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girlgenius1111 · 2 months

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all of my past i tried to erase it

part 3 of family line tensions are still high between Ingrid and her sister. Mapi tries to keep the peace. Solstråle tries to pretend she's fine. Ingrid tries to pretend she isn't going insane not understanding what is going on. cw: mentions of poor mental health / panic attacks. ingrid is pretty worried about solstråle and whether or not she is safe.

-------

It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Mapi bringing her parents to the match shouldn’t have gotten to you the way it did. You didn’t really have an explanation for it, either. You saw Ingrid talking to Mapi’s mom and it felt like everything that had gotten marginally better in the last few days had miraculously disappeared.

You were 8 again, sitting in the office at school, fielding pitying looks from the office ladies. Both of your parents were busy watching one of Ingrid’s matches; at just 16, she was playing for Rosenborg. Your mom was supposed to bring you to watch, too. She’d forgotten.

You were 10 again, lying to the school nurse that your parents hadn’t known you’d hurt your hand. She said it looked broken, and you pretended that you hadn’t asked your mom to take you to the doctor the night before. You pretended your mom hadn’t told you to stop faking injuries when the attention wasn’t on you for one minute.

You were 13 again, sobbing into your pillow, while everyone celebrated just down the hall. Ingrid was leaving to play in Lillestrøm. 5 hours away. She was leaving you behind.

You were 16, having just been dumped by your first girlfriend. You’d come home in tears, and when you told your dad what was wrong, he told you it was for the best, that a girlfriend was just a distraction. He warned you not to bother your sister with this, because she was busy with much more important things in Barcelona.

You were 17, so drunk you could barely speak, walking home on a dark road in the middle of the night because neither of your parents had answered the phone to come and get you from the horrific party you already regretted attending. It was dark, a windy road you were walking along, and if a car came, you weren’t sure your reflexes would be quick enough. You were 17, stumbling over the smooth pavement, the depression you’d been trying to drown in alcohol making a reappearance. You were 17, thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it all ended there, just like this.

You were 17, standing in the airport with your parents, preparing to board the plane to Spain. You leaned in towards your mother for a hug. She avoided it, pinching your cheek lightly, and reminding your father that they had a dinner reservation to get to. You watched them walk out of the airport from your place in the security line. Your vision was blurred with tears, but you still could tell that they didn’t look back at you once. You were 17, and your mom hadn’t told you she loved you before you moved across the continent.

In a second, all of these memories that you’d fought so hard to keep locked away deep inside your head were flooding out. Tears were pricking your eyes, and you cursed yourself for being so stupid. Ingrid didn’t care. Mapi didn’t care. You weren’t worth caring about. How had you forgotten that? How had you let yourself forget that, after everything?

Ingrid didn’t see your expression change, too busy thanking Mapi’s parents profusely for coming to see her play. Mapi did, though. She watched as you caught sight of your sister talking to her mom, and she watched as you flinched like someone had swung at you. She watched as you slipped out of the crowd, speed walking into the building. Mapi was torn in 2 directions, Ingrid on one side, and you running off the other way. You needed Ingrid, most definitely but Mapi didn’t like the look on your face as you ran off, like all of the emotion had been sucked out of you, and all that was left was exhaustion.

Someone else had noticed your disappearing act, though. Caro stood, staring after you, before her gaze fell to Mapi, raising an eyebrow. The defender nodded, and Caro followed after you, while Mapi turned to her girlfriend. She pulled her away from her parents with an apologetic smile, appreciating that Alexia walked over and picked up the conversation where it had left off.

“Ingrid, vamos,” Mapi whispered urgently. Ingrid looked at her, confused and unmoving.

“What? I was in the middle of a conversation, María,” the Norwegian scolded.

“I know, it’s your Solstråle, though, she’s upset, come on,” Mapi insisted, pulling on Ingrid’s hand, who finally seemed to feel a sense of urgency, and let Mapi lead her into the building.

“Upset? Why? Did something happen?”

“She saw you with my mom and just looked really upset.” Mapi explained. A bit of understanding washed over Ingrid’s face, and now she was the one leading her girlfriend, rushing down the hall and beginning to open door after door in search of you.

Caro, meanwhile, had found you pretty easily. You were on the floor of a room she often came to when she was overwhelmed, although that happened much less these days. You knew Caro, obviously, and she knew you, had known you since you were pretty young. She had a calming presence, and the minute she sat next to you, and extended her hand in your direction, you took it gratefully.

“Mapi is bringing Ingrid.” She told you, but didn’t say anything else. She just sat next to your trembling form and held your hand. It was enough for now, enough until your sister arrived.

And when Ingrid did arrive, it was with a loud bang as she threw the door open, sighing in relief at the sight of you. Though, that relief quickly dissolved back into worry at the state you were in. She quickly took Caro’s place at your side, hesitantly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your sister was surprised when you turned and threw your arms around her neck, crying silently into her shirt.

“Jeg har deg, kjære. Det er greit, du er ok.” She murmured, looking worriedly at the other two women hovering in the doorway of the room. Mapi nodded at her encouragingly, and Ingrid refocused, rubbing a hand slowly up and down your back.

“Thank you,” Mapi muttered to Caro, as they both stepped into the hall to give you some space.

“Of course.” Caro said easily. “She having a hard time?”

“Which one?” Mapi asked wryly. “Yes. It’s… it’s a work in progress.”

“She’s a good kid.” Caro noted, Mapi nodding her head in agreement. “Well, Marta and I are around if either of you need anything.”

“Thank you, Caro. Really.” Mapi said, squeezing the forward’s shoulder. Caro just shrugged like it was no big deal, and headed back out to the pitch. When Mapi reentered the room, you were tucked perfectly into Ingrid’s lap, although you seemed to have calmed down some. Ingrid was speaking to you in hushed Norwegian, and something she said had you lurching away from her and to your feet, stumbling blindly to the door.

“Solstråle, wait,” Ingrid called, not really sure what she said to upset you, but well aware that it had been something. You fell right into Mapi’s arms, and though she looked a little startled, she easily pulled you close.

“Okay, it’s alright. We’re all okay.” She murmured, noticing the rather heartbroken expression on her girlfriend’s face at the fact that you had fled from her right into Mapi’s arms. After a few minutes, you said something quietly that neither girl could hear. “What was that, nena?”

“Can we go ho- back to the house?” You asked, correcting yourself quickly, and pulling away from the comforting embrace Mapi had you in. Ingrid felt like you’d stabbed her, honestly, when you didn’t let yourself call it home. You were stoic again, though, your face void of emotion, wiping roughly at your cheeks to rid them of tears.

“Kjære,” Ingrid said, hating the way you forced all evidence of your breakdown away. You’d been so upset, about something, but now you were acting as though nothing had happened. Your sister would have climbed into your brain if she could’ve, just to understand what was going on in there.

“Let’s go home.” Mapi said easily, shooting her girlfriend a meaningful look. Ingrid wasn’t supposed to push you, she knew that. It was just getting harder and harder to not do so, especially when she could see how much pain you were in. She couldn't understand why you wouldn’t just talk to her, and you couldn’t understand why she was so concerned or why she was so desperate to hear what you were feeling. And considering it was the two of you, the situation was bound to blow up into an argument. It was just a matter of time.

-------

Ingrid knew what was coming before her phone rang, but she still desperately wanted to avoid it. She was quite comfortable at the moment, curled up on top of Mapi in their bed, a show playing softly in the background. Mapi was scratching lightly at Ingrid’s scalp with one hand, and tracing lines over her back with the other. The movements made Ingrid’s entire body relax, which had definitely been Mapi’s goal, but it was all interrupted when her phone went off from next to her.

She sat up off her girlfriend, glancing at the screen, her expression hardening.

“Your mom?” Mapi guessed, pulling Ingrid back down into her when the Norwegian declined the call.

“Yes.”

“You haven’t talked to her since Solstråle’s letter, have you?”

“No.” Ingrid said. “I think I hate her right now.”

Mapi was surprised, only because Ingrid didn’t hate anyone. If there was going to be a person, though, it would be someone who had hurt you. Because Ingrid didn’t like to kill spiders she found in the house, but Mapi knew she would kill a person for you without a second thought. “That’s okay. You can hate her.”

“I miss her.” Ingrid admitted after another minute, her voice cracking. Her forehead was scrunched with sadness, and her hands gripped Mapi’s shirt tight in her hands.

Mapi sighed, wishing she could take Ingrid’s pain away. And yours too, for that matter. “You can miss her too. You can feel whatever you need to feel.”

“No, I can’t, not when Solstråle is so upset,”

“How your sister feels does not limit how you feel. You can be hurt, and sad, and frustrated too. It doesn’t take away from pequeña’s feelings. Just like her feelings don’t take away from yours. You are both upset. That’s alright.” Mapi said confidently. “This isn’t just happening to your sister. It’s happening to you, too, and you can be sad, mi amor. You can cry.”

Ingrid hadn’t even known she’d been about to cry until Mapi said that, but suddenly there were tears running down her face, and she was clutching tightly to the Spaniard underneath her, who did not seem surprised at all at the sudden emotion.

“I know, baby.” Mapi husked, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of Ingrid’s head. She knew Ingrid needed this, and was content to let her cry it out until she heard a sharp breath from the doorway. You were standing just outside the room, frozen and horrified.

“I’m sorry, Ing,” you mumbled, having come in to say goodnight, rather stunned to see your sister so distraught.

Ingrid could only cry harder, now furious with herself for letting you see this, but too upset to do anything but squeeze Mapi’s hand, wordlessly begging for her to do something.

“Ven aqui, nena, it’s alright.” Mapi said, gesturing you over to the bed. You looked skeptical, but you did so anyway, carefully sitting on the bed next to your sister.

“I’m really sorry, Ingrid, I don’t mean to stress you out.” You whispered. You were in a guilty mood, it seemed, not an angry one, and Ingrid felt that somehow, she preferred when you were angry to this.

“Don’t apologize, pequeña. You haven’t done anything wrong. Ingrid is upset, and you’re upset. It’s okay to be upset, and it’s okay to cry.” Sometimes, Mapi felt like she was teaching preschoolers how to identify and express their emotions when she talked to the both of you, though that might be an easier task.

“I’m not upset with you, Solstråle, I am upset with mom, and I am upset with myself. You don’t need to say sorry. Not for having a panic attack, for having a hard time, for any of it.” Ingrid managed then, taking your hand in hers.

“I’m doing my best.” You said. “I know I’m not making it easy, but I promise I’m trying.”

“We know you are. You’re doing so well, nena.” Mapi said enthusiastically, with so much excitement at you saying something remotely positive about yourself that you and Ingrid both cracked smiles.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ingrid asked after a minute. At that, you withdrew, pulling your hand from Ingrid’s and rising from the bed. Both your sister and her girlfriend repressed sighs at your sudden withdrawal.

“No, I’m really tired. I came to say goodnight. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You rushed out, before bolting out of the room at a speed that could barely be considered a walk.

Ingrid sighed once you were out of earshot, settling back into Mapi. “She’s so difficult.”

“She’s stubborn. Like her sister. She’ll come around, just give her time.” Mapi assured her.

Giving you time, though, was a lot harder than it seemed.

-------

Your whole life, you had been encouraged by your parents to be smaller, to take up less space. If you were upset, you should keep it to yourself. If you were angry, you should calm down. You were taught that your needs always came second to everyone else’s. You didn’t like to be vulnerable with people, and you didn’t like to put your emotions on others.

So when you woke up the next day, it was the feeling of intense shame swirling around inside of you. You’d ruined what was an impressive win for your sister, and a nice moment with Mapi’s parents. You’d upset Ingrid, so much so that she had cried about it.

Too much. You were being too much.

You resolved yourself to be happy today. If not happy, content. Mapi and Ingrid probably needed a day off from your ridiculous, all over the place, emotions. So today, you wouldn’t feel. You’d be perfect, you’d be small, and you’d cause as little trouble as possible.

What you didn’t expect, though, was for that to be the opposite of what Mapi and Ingrid wanted from you. They didn’t care if you took up space. They just wanted you to talk. More than anything, they just wanted you to be okay, no matter how inconvenient that process was for them.

It was a day off for both girls, due to the match the day before, and they were able to let you sleep in. Ingrid was worried you were sleeping too much, but Mapi assured her that angsty teens always needed a lot of sleep, and depressed teens going through a rough time needed even more sleep. Pair that with the intense panic attack you’d had the day before, you were bound to be exhausted.

When noon rolled around, though, and you’d yet to make an appearance, Mapi relented, much to Ingrid’s relief, who had half a mind to check you for a pulse. Mapi made a coffee to bring up to you, opening your door quietly to find you out cold under the covers.

With Snø clutched tightly in your arms, your nose pressed against the soft polar bear, you looked so young.

“Pequeña, despierta,” Mapi murmured, sitting on the edge of your bed and pulling the covers away from your face a bit.

You blinked up at her groggily, an adorably sleepy expression on your face, and Mapi couldn’t help but push some hair out of your face and smile down at you. You looked slightly suspicious, as you couldn’t remember being woken up like this in the entire time living in Spain, but Mapi just handed you your coffee, and settled on the edge of your bed.

“Morning,” you said after a minute and a rather large sip of coffee.

“Afternoon.” Mapi corrected, a little confused when your face turned red at the comment. “It’s 12:15.”

“That’s weird. Normally Ingrid comes to make sure I’m breathing if I sleep past 10.” You noted.

Mapi chuckled. “We’re working on some of your sister’s annoying habits.”

“Don’t get rid of too many, or there won’t be anything left.” You said, your lips tugging up into a smirk.

“Okay! I will just go through this chocolate croissant I made for you in the garbage!” Ingrid scoffed from the doorway, turning on her heel and marching back down the stairs.

If there was any surefire way to get you out of bed, it was to present you with a breakfast pastry.

Within 90 seconds, you had kicked Mapi out, thrown some clothes on and bounded down the stairs, in search of the promised croissant. It was sitting on a plate at the counter, waiting for you, next to your sister who was glaring at you slightly.

“Thank you, Ing,” you said sweetly, throwing her a charming smile. She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless.

You hit Mapi’s hand playfully when she reached for your croissant, and she withdrew it with a laugh. “You’re like breakfast pastries the way Ingrid is about coffee.”

“Reasonable? Reasonably attached to it? Is that what you mean, María?” Ingrid asked with a frown.

“Of course, mi amor.” Mapi said with a smile, kissing Ingrid’s cheek softly. You averted your eyes, but you couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t make you happy to see your sister loved so well.

The morning, or afternoon, was going exactly as you’d hoped. No attempts at conversation. No feelings. Of course, it couldn’t last. Once you’d finished eating, Ingrid perked up and seemed to prepare herself for what she was about to say, which instantly made you weary.

“We should talk about last night, kjære.” Ingrid said calmly.

You froze, slowly putting your mug back on the counter. Both other girls watched the way your whole body tense, the way every ounce of emotion was wiped off your face.

“I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about.” You said stiffly.

“That is not true. Something upset you, and we should discuss it.” Ingrid argued.

“Ingrid, it’s fine. Just leave it. We don’t need to talk about that. We don’t need to talk about anything.” You replied defensively.

“It’s not fine!” Ingrid said, raising her voice, and shaking off Mapi’s gestures to calm down. “None of this is fine. We need to talk about last night. We need to talk about the letter you wrote. We need to get you in therapy. These are all things that need to happen, solstråle. We’ve given you time, now we need to do this.”

“I am not going to therapy.” You declared, standing up with a scoff and crossing your arms across your chest. “Ingrid, I am fine. I don’t need to talk and I don’t need help.”

Ingrid grew visibly more angry with you at that, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration.

“Amor, take a breath.” Mapi said quietly, sighing to herself when Ingrid did not do so.

“You don’t need help? That is the most untrue thing I have ever heard. You do not write the things that you wrote and then turn around and say you’re fine. You. Need. Help.”

“Ingrid. I am not going to therapy, and I am done talking about this.” You said, your voice dangerously quiet.

Your sister wasn’t phased, stepping closer to you with her eyes narrowed. “You will go to therapy if I say you will, and this conversation is not over until I say it is.”

In retrospect, even Ingrid realized that this was decidedly the wrong thing to say. You didn’t take well to being told what to do. Your reaction really should have been worse; Ingrid had gotten off easy.

“Jesus, Ingrid, do you hear yourself? You sound just like mom.” You spit back, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the hurt that flashed across your sister’s face. “I don’t want to talk about this, especially not with you.” You spun around and began stomping towards the stairs. “Don’t fucking follow me.” You warned over your shoulder, causing Ingrid’s jaw to drop.

“Do not-” Ingrid began, starting after you.

“Amor, leave her.” Mapi said, intervening before Ingrid got very far, and pulling her back.

“She is the most frustrating person on the planet.” Ingrid huffed, slamming a hand down onto the counter. Mapi looked unimpressed.

“She is probably thinking the same thing about you right now. I told you not to push her.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Could you be on my side here for once?” She asked bitingly.

Mapi very calmly shook her head, opening her mouth to explain when Ingrid’s eyebrows flew up on her forehead. “No. I am on your sister’s side, and you should be too. No one has been for a really long time.”

The Norwegian deflated at that, sinking down into one of the stools at the counter. Mapi continued speaking, pulling Ingrid’s hair gently out of the bun it was in, and running her fingers through it. “You’re looking at this wrong, mi amor. She doesn’t need you to talk her into therapy. She’ll get there on her own, you just need to give her time. That girl has a long way to go before she admits she needs help, believe me.”

Ingrid sighed deeply. “Can you go check on her? She’s mad at me, I just need you to make sure she’s okay and she isn’t going to do anything stupid.”

“Of course.” Mapi said, delicately kissing Ingrid’s lips. “I love you.” She reminded the Norwegian with a soft, almost shy smile.

Ingrid wanted to cry at how sweet, how perfect, how helpful and kind and funny and beautiful her girlfriend was. “I love you, so so much.”

Mapi headed for the stairs, and Ingrid made yet another cup of coffee, a coffee she wouldn’t drink.

Because Mapi came running back down the stairs a minute later, an apprehensive look on her face as she approached her girlfriend.

“Mi amor, she isn’t up there.” She said carefully.

“What do you mean she isn’t up there,” Ingrid asked, rising to her feet and feeling panic rise within her.

Mapi just shook her head, putting her hands on Ingrid’s shoulders. “She isn’t up there. Her window is open, I think she snuck out.”

Ingrid felt like something inside of her was collapsing, leaving behind a chasm that was quickly filling with anxiety. “Where… what? She… she’s gone? She…we have to-”

What had you left to do? Only horrible, life shattering options of where you were and what you were doing were flying through Ingrid’s head, and she reached out, latching on to Mapi’s outstretched hands.

“Amor, breathe. Calm down. We’ll find her. Where would she go?”

Mapi hoped, with everything in her, that Ingrid had an answer. Because she had to be calm right now, for Ingrid, but Barcelona was a big city. And if you didn’t want to be found… Mapi didn’t know what would happen.

Ingrid’s mind was racing, but one thought pushed to the front of everything else. “The lake, there’s a lake in Melhus she would always go to when she was upset. She’d go to water, a body of water.”

Mapi nodded. “Okay, there are 2 beaches in walking distance, in opposite directions. We’ll go to one, and we’ll send Frido to the other.”

Privately, Mapi hoped Frido found you first. She wasn’t quite sure that you wouldn’t bolt away from Ingrid, but you wouldn’t be expecting Frido to pop up.

-------

A quick call to Frido later, Mapi was directing one very frazzled Norwegian into the car, and setting off for the beach. Ingrid was deep in thought, and Mapi kept her hand on her girlfriend’s leg, softly and soothingly rubbing her thumb back and forth. It was only a few minutes to the beach, and Mapi knew Ingrid would talk before they arrived.

“Do you think she’d do something stupid?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her hand covering Mapi’s and gripping tightly. The Spaniard didn’t need her to explain what she meant; she knew this question was coming, really.

“She said she wouldn’t.” Mapi said calmly.

“She said she wouldn’t ‘do that to me,’ that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t do it, especially now that she’s mad at me.”

“This is a little fight. She wouldn’t… do that. Not over this.” Mapi reassured her, but Ingrid remained unconvinced.

“I don’t know what she’s thinking, María, maybe she was lying before.”

“Ingrid, mi amor, calm down. You have to trust her. Even when you’re scared, and even when it feels like you should take her bedroom door off the hinges and implant her with a GPS chip. You have to trust her not to hurt herself.”

“But what if she does?” Ingrid asked softly, as if saying the words loud enough would somehow will it into existence.

“We can’t think like that. Promise me you won’t think like that, okay?”

“Okay.” Ingrid agreed faintly. Both of them knew she was lying. It was all she’d been worrying about for days, and all she would worry about for many to come.

--------

Frido found you first. When she drove by the beach and didn't see you there, she got another idea. There was a rock climbing place nearby; Ingrid had said you always used to go to a lake back home when you were upset. Though Frido didn’t want to say so, it had been a long time since Ingrid had lived with you, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if your habits had changed. And the Swede knew from your instagram that you spent a lot of time rock climbing. She told Mapi where she was headed, and sped over to the gym.

Sure enough, as soon as she walked in the building, she spotted you in the middle of the hardest wall, seemingly only using the smallest holds to get yourself up. You were breathing hard, and the worker belaying you looked a bit concerned.

Frido pulled her phone out, shooting off a quick text to Mapi. “She’s here, she’s okay. Let me talk to her, don’t let Ingrid come in. I’ll bring her out.”

Ingrid probably wouldn’t help the situation, if you were as angry as you seemed. The blonde spoke quickly to the front desk attendant, and headed over to where you were.

She stood, just watching you. You were a few feet from the top now, luckily for your hands, which you clearly had not put enough chalk on, and were beginning to really hurt. With only a bit to go, you took a risk, attempting an impressive, one armed pull to get your other hand to the next hold. You just barely missed, falling away from the wall.

“Fuck,” you cursed, swinging back towards the wall and smacking it with your hand. You were lowered down, clearly fuming, and Frido took the opportunity to step in front of you, giving the girl attached to the other end of the rope a look.

“Again,” you requested, avoiding Frido’s gaze.

She took your hand in hers, though, inspecting the tear in your skin, shaking her head. “No, that’s enough Solstråle.”

“Leave me alone, Frido.” You snapped, trying to pull away from her when you felt the rope fall slack. You turned, seeing that the worker had abandoned her harness in favor of going to help someone else, no doubt at Frido’s direction.

You rolled your eyes, quickly regretting it when the Swede raised an eyebrow at you. Ingrid could be scary sometimes, but she had nothing on Frido.

“Are they here?” You asked, loosening the harness and stepping out of it with an exasperated sigh.

“They’re outside. You terrified your sister.” Frido said, pulling you over to a bench and making you sit down, before handing you a bottle of water.

You looked unimpressed. “I’m 18, I can handle myself in the city for an hour.”

“She wasn’t worried about that, she was worried you were going to hurt yourself.” Frido said bluntly, sitting down next to you. She ignored how stiff you’d grown and how uncomfortable you seemed, reaching for your hand and looking at it critically.

“That wasn’t on purpose.” You said defensively, wrenching your hand away once again. “And I told her I wouldn’t do that.”

“Can you blame her for worrying, Solstråle, really? And maybe you didn’t do that on purpose, but you came here to push yourself instead of dealing with your feelings in a healthy way.”

You really hated that she was right. Frido was always right. It was simultaneously her worst and best trait.

“Are they mad?” You asked in a small voice, suddenly looking very much your age. Frido stood and held out a hand to help you up.

“Not right now. Just worried. Ingrid’s going to give you a hug and you’re going to let her.” Frido instructed. You supposed that was fair. And really, you could use a hug. Hugs from your sister always made you feel better, even if you’d never admit it.

As you exited the building, you instantly spotted your sister and her girlfriend by their car. Mapi was leaning calmly against the Cupra, while Ingrid was pacing frantically, speaking fast and gesturing wildly with her hands.

“Did I do that?” You asked quietly.

Frido laughed. “I think she was born like that.”

As you neared the car, Ingrid turned as Mapi pointed at you, her face melting with relief at the sight of you. It really hit you, then, how worried she must have been, to still be so anxious even after Frido had likely told her you were okay. You weren’t making this easy on your sister.

She practically knocked you over with the force of her hug. “You’re okay.” She murmured into the top of your head, leaving a kiss there.

“I’m okay.” You reiterated, letting yourself hug her back tightly, even if it was just for a moment. She felt you tighten your arms around her almost unconsciously, and made a note to hug you more often. Even if it seemed like you weren’t very interested. After a minute she pulled back, placing both hands on your cheeks and making you look at her.

“Next time leave through the front door? And tell me where you’re going? Please?” She asked. You appreciated that she didn’t tell you to do this, leaving it more as a request, although you knew it was a reasonable rule for her to put in place.

“Promise.” You said quietly. She nodded her head, satisfied, before pulling Frido into a hug that also looked to be too tight. Mapi was looking at you, rather unimpressed. You knew she was not happy with you for upsetting your sister so much, and though it annoyed you a bit, you knew it was deserved. And you appreciated that your sister had someone that was so protective over her.

“In the car, nena. I want to talk to you when we get home.” Mapi instructed. You got in the car with no argument, the fight having gone out of you a bit. It had nothing to do with the hug Ingrid had given you, nothing at all. Definitely not. Instead of anger, you only felt apprehension, because Mapi looked dead serious about whatever she wanted to talk about.

-------

You were nothing short of shocked when Mapi opened the door to the garage and gestured you inside upon arriving home. Ingrid watched on anxiously, and you pretended not to see the way Mapi whispered some reassurance to her and kissed her cheek, before pointing her towards the kitchen

You’d never been in the garage before; it was Mapi’s space. You were already invading her home, you wouldn’t invade the one place of the house that was really hers, too. You knew she worked something out there, knew there was a reason both cars parked in the driveway instead of in the garage.

Mapi followed you into the room and sat down on a stool next to the large motorcycle in the middle of the garage. It was clearly in the process of being restored. You hadn’t known Mapi rode motorcycles. Well, you hadn’t known that your sister let Mapi ride a motorcycle. You stood awkwardly in the door as Mapi inspected 2 different wrenches, until she pointed at the stool next to her.

“Ven aqui, nena.” She said.

You took a seat, not really enjoying the tense silence that washed over the room. “Are you mad at me?” You asked after a minute. For all your anger, and all your bravado, you didn’t like it when people were mad at you. Especially not people you looked up to, people you admired.

“No. Not mad, nena. Never mad. I wish you hadn’t snuck out your window, but I understand why you did. I wish sometimes you thought a bit more about how your actions affect me and your sister, but I know how hard that is to do when you’re as angry as you are.”

“I’m not angry.” You said defensively. Mapi rolled her eyes, handing you a couple of tools and beginning to tighten something on the bike.

“You are angry. You’re so angry that you feel like you’re going to explode sometimes. You’re so angry that sometimes you forget that you’re sad, too. You’re angry, and you’re hurt, and I cannot blame you for that. If anyone has a right to those emotions, it’s you.” You didn’t really enjoy being perceived so well, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “I know angry, nena. Do you remember when I hurt my knee?”

You nodded. The first few weeks of Mapi's injury hadn’t been a fun time, your sister beyond stressed with dealing with Mapi’s injury and her new role in the team, and you’d tried hard to be on your best behavior.

“I started working on this bike a year ago, when everything happened with the Spanish federation. It was Ingrid’s idea, a way for me to distract myself. When I hurt my knee, it had been a bit since I’d worked on it, but suddenly I was back in this garage until all hours of the night. It’s nice to be able to control something like this, when everything else feels out of your control. That is how climbing is for you, yes?”

You relaxed a bit at the turn the conversation was taking, and Mapi wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t just the topic; it was the fact that she wasn’t staring at you, putting pressure on you to give her an answer she wanted to hear. You were just talking. Casually.

“Yeah. I’m in control, and I don’t have to think about anything else. It’s relaxing.”

“It’s good for you to have an outlet like that.” Mapi stated. “This bike was Ingrid’s idea, when we first got together. Do you know what her other idea was?”

You were pretty sure you did, and you grimaced at the thought. “Therapy?”

Mapi snorted, handing you the wrench she was using and taking the screwdriver from your hand. “Yes therapy. You don’t have to look at it like that, though, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“It’s not for me.” You said decisively.

Mapi just shrugged. “I didn’t think it was for me either.” She paused, knowing your curiosity would get the better of you, and you’d ask for more information.

“What changed your mind?” You asked after a minute.

“Your sister did. After the euros, I had a hard time coming back to Barça and playing. Those weeks were some of the hardest of my life, trying to find my rhythm again but trying to recover from the stress I’d been under that summer. I was a mess. And Ingrid was right there with me, through all of it. I’d had a really bad day, and I asked Ingrid to come home early from a lunch she had. She came home, calmed me down, and afterwards, she asked me if I trusted her. I said I did. And she said that she really wanted me to try therapy. That I didn’t have to feel how I felt, and I deserved help. I deserved to not be miserable. She asked me to try it, for her, just give it a try.”

“And you did.”

“And I did. Because she’d done so much for me, I couldn’t refuse her request. Not when I knew she just wanted the best for me. I gave it a shot, and it helped, more than anything else had helped. It wasn’t a fix all, but it helped. It made me feel like I was doing something to get better.”

Mapi abandoned her work on the bike, looking at you for the first time since you’d entered the garage. You could only see sincerity in her gaze. Not anger, but annoyance. Just sincerity. “You deserve help, Solstråle. No matter how you feel about yourself, Ingrid and I know you. And we know you deserve help. You’re a good person, and you deserve to be happy.”

María sounded so sure. So completely convinced. You looked away from her, blinking hard.

“You don’t have to agree to anything now. Keep an open mind about it. Think about it. Okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed quietly, grateful that Mapi didn’t make a big deal out of it, only nodding slightly.

“One more promise?” She asked.

“What?”

“Talk to us. Or just me, or just Ingrid. We’re a little lost here, nena. It feels like we were just kind of plopped down in the middle of this. We had no idea anything was going on, not really. And all of a sudden we’re reading that letter, and realizing we missed a lot. That’s on us; we should have noticed sooner. We don’t have the whole picture, though, and that makes it really hard for us to figure out how to help you. We’ll both worry a lot less if you talked to us, just a little bit.”

That was reasonable, you had to admit. When she put it like that. You’d spent so much time being annoyed that no one had noticed, then being annoyed when they finally did notice, you hadn’t really spent a ton of time thinking about how little they knew. There was no context to your behavior, aside from what you’d put in the letter. And that just barely scratched the surface. You supposed they deserved an explanation. At least a bit of one.

“I’ll try.” You promised.

Mapi grinned at you this time, an infectious smile. “Bueno! Come here with that wrench. No, that one. Put it on this bolt. Twist.”

And just like that, the conversation was over. Easily. You got the feeling that Mapi would have let it go if you’d insisted on it, but you miraculously felt better. Talking, listening had made you feel better. Mapi had made you feel better.

-------

You both emerged from the garage around an hour and a half later, when the smell of baking cookies became too strong to resist. Ingrid had clearly been stress baking, one of your favorite of her habits. There were at least 3 different types of cookies on the counter, some done baking, some still in progress. It smelled so distinctly of home in the house, it was almost overwhelming.

“I have something for you,” Ingrid said, drying her hands and stepping away from the counter when you walked into the room.

“I can see that.” You said, nodding to the cookies appreciatively, but Ingrid shook her head.

“No, something else.” Ingrid said.

“OH! I do too.” Mapi said excitedly, and they both disappeared in different directions. You stood bewildered in the kitchen, not quite sure what you were about to be given.

They returned simultaneously, each holding what looked to be 2 frames. “Mapi’s first.” Ingrid directed. “I haven’t seen it yet.”

You looked surprisingly at Mapi, taking the present and beginning to unwrap the wrapping paper. “What is this for?” You asked.

“Your birthday.” Ingrid said quietly. You froze momentarily, an unreadable expression flashing across your face. “I know it seems like we forgot, but we didn’t. We got the dates messed up, but we had presents, and we had dinner reservations, just… for the 25th. Not the 15th.”

“Oh. I thought you’d forgotten.” You said slowly, seemingly slightly emotional.

“Nope, just bad at remembering dates. Now open your present.” Mapi said impatiently, bouncing on her feet like an overexcited child.

You unwrapped it slowly, as if you were slightly weary of what it might be. When you pulled the frame from the wrapping paper, though, every wall you’d put up fell instantly, your jaw dropping open at the piece of art in your hands.

It was a map. Not just a map, but a map of all the hiking trails in Barcelona. It was textured, detailed, labeled. It was intricate, all neutrals and earthy colors. It was so you. From the contents to the design, it was like it had been made just for you.

“Mapi…” You whispered, staring, stunned, at the map. “Where did you… how did you… what?”

“Ale’s sister Fresa went to school with this girl that hand makes maps like this. I got her name from diablillo, and I told her what I wanted. Do you like it, do you like it?” Mapi asked excitedly.

Mapi got her answer when you handed the frame to Ingrid, and launched yourself the few feet between you and Mapi, wrapping her in a tight hug. Mapi beamed at Ingrid, who was trying very hard not to cry. She hadn’t even given Mapi any advice on the gift. It had been all her girlfriend’s idea, she executed it all by herself, determined to get Solstråle the perfect gift.

“It’s perfect, thank you María,” you mumbled. The ridiculous smile on Mapi’s lips didn’t falter at the use of her real name, only squeezing you tighter.

“Te amo, Solstråle.” She said back. For once, you believed it. When you pulled away from the hug, it was to see Mapi looking smugly at your sister. “INGRID I DEFINITELY WON.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “She hasn’t even opened my present yet.”

“Still. I won.” Mapi smirked.

Now it was Ingrid’s turn to hand you your gift. It was wrapped in the same paper, and you tore it off, almost cautiously, not quite sure what Ingrid would have gotten you.

You were, once again, speechless at what you saw. This time, your eyes filled with tears immediately. Ingrid wasn’t as excited as Mapi had been, instead looking at you anxiously.

It was a painting of a waterfall back home not far from your house. It was so distinct, you knew Ingrid must have paid a ridiculous amount of money to get someone to hand paint it. Each individual stroke was so precise, blending perfectly into the image it was supposed to be, but if you focused hard, you could pick out the greens and greys and blues and whites that you’d grown up with.

It felt like home. It felt comforting. You could almost smell the trees, feel the cool sting of wind on your cheeks. It was a little piece of home just for you, and it was perfect. So beautiful and artistic that you weren’t sure you were worthy of it, but you looked at it in awe nonetheless. You wiped at your cheeks, not able to control the tidal wave of emotion washing over you.

“Kjære? Is it okay?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her eyes searching your face, trying to figure out if these were good tears or bad tears.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Okay? Ingrid… it’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s… perfect. Thank you.” You said, turning to her with a look of complete shock. And even though it pained Ingrid that you were so surprised to receive a nice gift for your birthday, she pushed that feeling down. Instead, she pulled you in towards her, placing the frame on the counter so she could hug you properly. You were happy with it, now, and that was all Ingrid had control over.

After a few seconds, Ingrid moved to pull away and break the hug, but you kept your arms wrapped around her, not quite ready to let go yet. Maybe it was the homesickness, or maybe it was your sister making you feel so known, and so loved. Whatever the reason, you just wanted her near you for a minute more, holding you nice and tight and safe against her.

“I love you,” she whispered, hearing you mumble the words back, your voice thick with emotion. When you did pull away, a minute later, it was to wipe at your face in an almost embarrassed manner.

Seeing how desperate you were for the attention to be off your tears, Mapi spoke up, her voice light and easy. “You can put them up in your room, you don’t have anything on the walls.”

You looked at the ground, then, almost sheepishly. “I didn’t know I could put anything up on them.” You admitted.

The room fell quiet, but even though you could tell that what you said had hurt Ingrid and Mapi, they just shook their heads softly. “It’s your room, for good, you can do whatever you want to it.” Ingrid told you.

You were about to thank her, and try to move the conversation long when Mapi let out a dramatic gasp. Both you and Ingrid whipped your heads to look at her, confused at the mischievous grin on her face.

“Ikea. WE CAN GO TO IKEA AND GET FURNITURE FOR SOLSTRÅLE’S ROOM.”

“María, calm down. Maybe she doesn’t want to redo her room.” Ingrid looked at you hopefully, and you knew it had nothing to do with your room, and everything to do with her not wanting to take Mapi to ikea.

You simply smirked back at Ingrid, who sighed and shut her eyes for a minute.

“Okay. Ikea.” She said finally. You and Mapi cheered, comically loudly, completely ignoring the rules she was setting in favor of high fiving each other and going to get ready to leave. “María, you are not building anything. Solstråle does not need her bed to collapse under her in the middle of the night. And kjære, please, please, don’t let Mapi talk you into a loft bed, you’ll fall off of it and break your arm. Amor? Kjære? ARE EITHER OF YOU LISTENING!” Ingrid shouted after you, rolling her eyes at the chants of ikea echoing around the house.

Mapi in Ikea was a handful. You, too, were a handful at the store. Together? She was going to lose one of you, she was sure of it. It had been a long day already. And it was only set to get longer.

--------

fluffy engen-león family trying to put furniture together in the next part?

yes, that IS all i have to say about this chapter thank you for your time.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #sol☀️#🍓☀️

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lipringlrh · 9 months

Text

give you a show | LN4

summary: when your roommates that good looking it's hard not to stare

pairings: roommate!lando norris x fem!reader

an: not posted in a little (sorry) but i actually have a lot in my drafts but i’m grouping them together so i need to finish them all off before i post them :)

word count: 800

warnings: none i don’t think

feedback and reblogs appreciated !!

…

You hadn't been roommates with Lando very long, only a few weeks, and each day you couldn't tell whether you were regretting it or enjoying it more each day. Today included both.

You opened the door to your apartment only an hour later than you left after picking up a few things you needed. You quickly took your shoes off by the door and headed further inside, announcing a quick, "I'm home," as you led your jacket down on the top of a chair, a bad habit both you and Lando formed, but it was just easier.

"Kitchen," a reply came from your left.

You headed towards the kitchen door, briefly pausing as you stepped inside before recomposing yourself and carrying on. You sat on a bar stool seat in the corner of the room, Lando in perfect view, before unconsciously taking your phone out.

You weren't focused on it at all, not when Lando was standing there, looking like that. His body was faced sideways away from you and his hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions, but he still pulled it off well. Grey sweatpants hung off his hips very lowly and he wasn't wearing a shirt at all. He was either chopping some food or mixing something - you weren't sure, you weren't focused on what he was doing anyway.

A few minutes pass, he's moved around a bit but always returning to the same place no matter what he's doing. You weren't really sure what he was doing but you weren't complaining. The more he seemed to stand there, the more his arms seemed to flex too. You were loving it, completely unaware of how obvious you were, or what you were meant be to doing, you couldn't think straight anyway.

You were too concentrated on him and his arms that you didn't hear him call your name the first time - or the second. It was only the third time he said it that it knocked you out of your daze. Your eyes met his face again, tracing over every detail. Luckily he wasn't looking at you, you thought, he was still focused on whatever he was doing.

"You've been watching that for an awful long time," he spoke, a smirk taking over his features. He was right, you realised. Looking at the phone, you noticed you'd opened tiktok and had just been letting the same video play on loop since you sat down.

You stutter for a moment, thinking of an excuse. "I was reading the comments." You said, lying through your teeth way too obviously.

His smirk never faltered, instead just grew, "took you a while to tell me that. Don't worry, I don't mind when you stare."

You didn't really know how to answer that so you just stayed quiet, your eyes still trained on his face as he turned around and stepped much closer to you.

He was right in front of you now, the only thing separating you was the marble of the kitchen bar worktop.

"What? You think I didn't notice? I cut up way more salad than I'd need in a week, waiting for you to notice." He grinned, putting his arms on the counter and moving his face down to the same height as yours and ever so slightly closer.

"So you were giving me a show?" You reply before you have any time to think about it. You watch as he falters at your response, giving yourself a little ego boost. You cock your head to the side, almost as if you're challenging him for a reply.

He quickly gains his compose back, brushing off the slight embarrassment of you getting him flustered - it isn't the first time but it's the most obvious.

"Well, when there's a pretty girl in front of you, always." He whispers as though it's obvious, in an attempt to again fluster you more than how you flustered him.

"So you think I'm pretty?" You try to hide your grin but fail miserably. Lando also fails to hide his when he sees yours.

"Very much so," he smiles back, moving a hand up to brush some hair off of your face. "Now," he says, slapping his hands down on the counter and flexing slightly, "what kind of roommate would I be if I didn't give you a full show? Anything else you'd like to watch me do?" he says, almost playful, almost serious, liking the idea of being ogled at by you quite nice.

"Well there's a watermelon in the fridge," you tease, tracing your hand down the prominent veins in his arm.

He smirks, watching your hand in motion, "perfect." He doesn't move though, he stays there, absorbed in the way your hand touches his arm.

"Get to it!" you joke, watching as he moves instantly towards the fridge.

In his rush, he doesn't forget to turn back and give you a cheeky wink, followed by a "yes, ma'am."

…

feedback + reblogs appreciated and requests are open :)

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etherealyoungk · 2 months

Text

soft, shy wonwoo falling in love for the first time wonwoo x reader/ fluff/ 855

wonwoo sees you for the first time at a mutual friend's party, he thinks you're the prettiest person in the room. he finds himself looking across the room where you're standing, looking lost, like you didn't want to be there and he's mentally trying to build up the courage to say hi to you. until you spot him looking at you and he fumbles when he's caught and gives you a small wave in panic before he looks away. so that's how you find yourself making your way towards wonwoo and you introduce yourself.

wonwoo would slowly fall in love and he wouldn't even know it until he was completely in love with you. he'd find himself thinking about you more often, and look around for you during lunch breaks on campus. he'd leave little snacks and drinks by your locker or your desk when you were passing by and they would always be your favourites.

wonwoo becomes a fumbling mess with his words when you approach him and strike up a conversation with him and he's barely listening to what you're saying because he's caught up on how pretty you looked. his heart beats a little too fast as he watches you smile that gorgeous smile and the way you laugh after telling him something, watching the way your eyes light up when you speak.

wonwoo walking you home when he finds out you were working a night shift and he comes to the store when you're closing, trying to act like he was just passing by, telling you that he was just in the neighbourhood and saw you so he thought he'd come and say hi. you smile when you see him and he offers to wait as you finish the closing shift and walks you home, draping his jacket on your shoulders when he notices the small goosebumps on your arms from the chilly air.

wonwoo letting you copy his notes because you were stressed about the exam and missed the class. mingyu watches, bewildered because wonwoo never let anyone copy his notes or ever offered it. so the fact that he was letting you was something life-altering in mingyu's eyes.

"you like yn don't you?", mingyu probes wonwoo when they're back at their shared apartment.

wonwoo doesn't deny it, the silence being his answer as well as the soft smile on his face at the mention and thought of you.

"you should tell them", mingyu encourages. "you know the other day, i saw someone else hitting on them, don't lose your chance buddy", mingyu tells wonwoo, whose ears perk up at this information. but little did he know that mingyu was lying. he just wanted his shy, quiet friend to do something bold for once.

so that's how wonwoo, a man who is usually reserved, quiet and shy finds himself looking for you with a determined stride as he walks to your part-time place the next night. except it's early, so it's still full of customers. you're surprised to see wonwoo again and he smiles softly at you, his soft, fluffy hair falling over his forehead, his glasses resting on his handsome face.

it's when you're walking back with wonwoo a few hours later that he finally decides to tell you what's been weighing on his heart and mind for a while.

"you don't have to come over every night", you tell wonwoo, having noticed he came by on purpose to walk you home and the gesture and thought made you smile at his soft and caring affection.

"i like to, i want to", he tells without missing a beat as he glances at you. "i like being with you", wonwoo adds softly, and there was something about the way he said it, so sweetly, that makes your heart flutter for a moment.

wonwoo musters up the courage to ask you, unsure, but he still does because it was either now or never.

"are you free this weekend?", he asks, hopeful.

"i am! why?", you ask as you glance at wonwoo, who seems to fumble with his next few words.

"can we go out? for dinner-or- wait-maybe coffee because dinner sounds too straightforward", he says in a rush that you chuckle and he runs a hand through his hair, feeling nervous.

"can we maybe go out for coffee sometime?", wonwoo asks again. "i mean do you want to?", he corrects and you stop walking, facing wonwoo as he looks at you flustered, feeling shy.

"god i don't know how to do this", he admits, letting out a nervous chuckle, his glasses falling forward a bit as he looks down, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat, feeling like he just blew his chance, feeling hopeless.

"i'll be more than happy to go out for coffee with you", you tell and he quips his head up to look at you. you're smiling that smile he's fallen in love with and his heart skips a beat.

"really?", he asks and you nod.

"even if i am a mess?", he asks and you laugh even more. "yes, even if you were a mess because you're adorable", you tell which somehow seems to console wonwoo and ease his racing heart.

he smiles at you, giving you a bashful grin before you both continue to walk, the evening breeze stirring through the air.

taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @blue-jisungs @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @wootify @n4mj00nvq @joshuaahong @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii

#i love wonwoo <3 #k-labels #caratlibrary #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen soft hours #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt soft hours #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo x reader

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vendetta-ari · 3 months

Note

So, I was wondering if you could come up with some head cannons on what would cause the winged characters' (i.e. Lucifer, Lute, Adam, Valentino) wings to suddenly unfurl?

Heyy this ask was a lotta fun and I hope you enjoyy! I also added Vaggie to this bc she has wings too- either way, hope you like it anon!!

(Word count = 1255)

WARNINGS!! [probably our of character for vaggie, I've never written her before, SUGGESTIVE PARTS WITH VALENTINO, LUCIFER AND ADAMS, kinda angsty and cringe??

Vaggie

》She can usually control her wings just fine, they don't usually unfurl without warning and they always stay hidden

》However, when she's upset they usually fly out

》 during an argument with her, she started getting all quiet before lashing out and yelling at you, her wings flying out

》Such beautiful wings too, a shame it had to happen at a time like this.

》She realized what she had just done and felt awful, a gut wrenching awful. she got misty eyes before tell you she needed to be alone for a bit

》 after a few hours Vaggie came running back to you, embracing you into her arms and hugging and holding you tightly

》her wings wrapped around you before she let out a bunch of incoherent sobs

》 “I-i'm so sorry I'm sososo sor-ry sorry- i-i really didn't mean to I jus- I just … I'm so sorry..” she was really broken up about it.. it was a big argument after all, so it made sense.

》 You sighed, taking her into her arms, and dragging her to the couch, accepting her apologies and telling her “It's okay, it wasn't anyone's fault. tensions were just high and- it's okay just let it all out m’kay? dear?” you said, your voice was shaky

》You'd be lying if you said Vaggie's crying didn't affect you, you tried hiding your tears, trying to be strong for her before a few tears slipped and you both laid on the couch.

Valentino

~ Like vaggie, he has good control of his wings and rarely use them

~However, his wings are a lot more sensitive.

~ his only real weak spot actually, that's why he usually just keeps them tucked away

~ poor you though, you didn't know, it's not really your fault for being so clueless.

~You were just done filming, and you stayed after. you and val were good friends and weren't ever really on bad terms so you always chilled with him after scenes and certain sets

~When you looked behind him his wings caught your eye, you almost forgot he was a moth and had wings, so you were pretty intrigued.

~Oh but how curiosity killed the cat. walking up behind him you brushed his wings and ran your hands up and down them

~He shivered, turning around quickly to see you messing around with his wings. he was pissed, hes fucking killed bitches for pulling such bullshit stunts like this.

~But he didn't really wanna kill you, at least not yet, he chuckled as an evil smirk spread across his face. “Were these what you wanted to see mi vida?”

~His wings spread out, largely, they were probably double your size, you looked at them with awe before Val grabbed you by the wrist “Now. you should know not to ever touch these again. but since your so fucking dumb, I'll just have to show you a lesson hm?”

Lute

*Lute, unlike the other two usually always has her wings out

*She likes showing em off, she thinks they're pretty

*And well, she's not wrong they are some of the most beautiful wings you've ever seen

*but the thing is, she always has them out. like to let them stretch and what's the point of hiding them? Shows how she's an angel, exterminator, and a bad bitch.

*So a better question really is, what makes Lute hide her wings? since she always has them out when and why does she put them away? two reasons.

*Well first answer is pretty simple, when she's in front of someone greater and higher than her role she'll put them away for the time being. It's just proper manners after all. Plus if she had her wings out in front of someone higher, they'd realize how much better she and her wings are, and let's not make others insecure now Lute.

*The other reason is a bit more complicated

*When lute is feeling sad or down, shell curl up her wings behind her and wrap her arms around her knees and just curl up into a ball

*You found her like this once, and god were you so confused- you tried asking her what was wrong but to no avail, she barely gave you a response let alone an answer to your question

*You sighed, assuming she just didn't really wanna talk about it. so you sat down next to her and rested your head on her shoulder, grabbed her hand and smiled “I'm here for you Lute.” you spoke softly. and you swear you caught a glimpse of lute blushing and smiling, but who knows- she denies it every time anyway.

Lucifer

☆ Lucifer is 50/50.

☆While he usually has his wings kept tucked away behind him, he's no opposed to having them out, he doesn't really care

☆Whether his wings unfurl or not is usually random too, he doesn't even notice when they're out half the time too.

☆He'll usually use them to get things high up or travel from place to place, only for convenience purposes

☆He doesn't like looking at his wings though, he's insecure about them, being a constant reminder of what he's been through, the poor fallen angel.

☆He has good control over them, they don't ever “accidentally” unfurl out when he gets mad or anything like that. he uses them only when he needs to

☆But you? oh no you're different. it's almost like their your wings with the way you have such control over them

☆By just a light touch the fluff up and out, they're usually unkempt by the way Lucifer doesn't like his wings too much, but you'll always fix up his wings for him, preening and brushing them for him

☆They will always fly out on cue when you two both end up on his bed after a long day, making out and leaving hickeys all over him

☆Fuck him infront of the mirror with his wings out

Adam

-Adam is a lot like lute, where he'll have his wing our all the time, except it's even less likely for him to ever hide them

-For being the first man he is kinda unkempt though.

-you always have to preen him and take care if his wings for him, keeping up his handsome and pretty wings

-If it weren't for you this idiot would just be walking around with messy and gross unkempt wings.

-He should really be thanking you though, he makes preening him so goddamn difficult

-He always squirms and moves around, and he keeps his wing close to you, barely letting you touch them let alone preen them

-Adam hates when people touch his wings. he won't let anyone do it, your the exception however

-and even being the exception he will be so stubborn with letting you touch them despite the countless times you've both done this, he will always be stubborn and difficult and he will never fully sit still and let you help him.

-He growls as you touch his wings, folding them around himself making it harder for you. as you groan in annoyance he reluctantly moves them a hit, making things easier for you “Just be fuckin careful bitch..” he mutters under his breath.

-Unlike Lucifer though, Adam will surprisingly try to hide his wings during sex. As said before he doesn't like people touching his wings so there's no real point for them to be out like that, he will fail though, and when he cums they spread out for a bit, before the post but clarity hits and he hides then once again, you can never win.

-xoxo Ari

#lute x reader #adam x reader #lucifer x reader #vaggie x reader #valentino x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel comfort #hazbin hotel romantic #lute #adam #vaggie #Valentino #lucifer

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nanamikeento · 2 months

Text

im a mess (but im the mess that you wanted)

s.: you've been with nanami for few months, but he never stays the night. could he be lying to you? (or: the one where you find out about nanami's secret) (nanami kento x f!reader

w.c.: 5.6k (i got carried away srry)

t.: suggestive at the beginning, developing relationship, hurt/comfort, smut at the end! see spoiler tags on ao3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

His lips trace your neck in gentle kisses, body still glued to yours, sweat glistening on his skin. The sheets on your bed are soaked, but you don’t mind as his body is on top of yours and he looks down at you with his beautiful brown eyes and smiles softly.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking his thumb on your cheek, looking into your eyes. You lean in and kiss him, the dizziness from your pleasure fading away.

“Yes,” you answer, smiling, “that was amazing, as always.”

Nanami laughs softly, a light shade of pink painting his cheekbones.

“Come on, let's clean up.”

It's been five months since you've been seeing your coworker, Kento Nanami.

It's easy to be with Nanami, you found out. He doesn't mind your unorganized self. He doesn't care if your makeup is smudged or if your hair is tangled. He even told you he liked it. Although you have to pretend nothing is happening between you and him at work, he often gives you rides back home at the end of the day. He invites you out often, and takes you to the fanciest restaurants in the city, usually at night.

“Will you stay the night?” You ask as he pulls you up by the wrists.

He looks at you and seems to think for a moment.

“I can't. Sorry.”

You can see his shoulders sag a little as your heart sinks.

“Okay.” You whisper and stand up, walking towards your bathroom. Then, he calls your name, making you turn around to face him. His brown eyes meet yours, almost taking your breath away.

Nanami opens his mouth, then closes it. It's clear that he's nervous, that he wants to say something, but he just sighs quietly.

“Are you okay?” He asks again.

A smile spreads across your lips, even though you want to cry. “Of course.”

You watch as he nods and then enters the bathroom.

He never stays the night. He never invites you to his apartment either. He never asks you out during the week, or on your days off.

I wouldn't be surprised if he had a wife.

The thought makes you gasp out loud, the sound covered by the water of the shower. But what if he had a wife and you're just his mistress? What if he had a family, someone waiting for him every night while he fucks you into oblivion in your bed?

You suddenly feel sick. You have to ask him, you have to know. It makes too much sense. It would explain why he never takes you to a picnic, or invites you to lunch.

When you leave the bathroom, hair up in a bun and a soft towel wrapped around you, you see that he changed the sheets and made your bed while you were in the shower. He's dressing his clothes in a hurry, phone in hand.

“You're not gonna shower?” you ask, watching as he hastily buttons his shirt.

“No, sorry. Something came up.” He says, looking up at you.

You look at the clock on your nightstand. It's two in the morning. What does he mean something came up? Your heart only sinks further. No words are exchanged while he finishes dressing and gives you a kiss, before leaving.

“I'll call you tomorrow, alright?” he says at your doorstep. Tomorrow is Saturday.

You nod, “Take care.”

After he leaves, you put on the massive t-shirt you call pajamas and hop into your bed.

It's only when you rest your head on the pillow, that the tears come.

…

He doesn't call you all weekend. And doesn't show up at work on Monday.

You resist the urge to text him. Part of you doesn't want him to be in trouble with his hypothetical wife, even though he's the one who's allegedly cheating. The thoughts drown you and you can’t focus on your work.

On Tuesday, he shows up looking like death. Dark, deep, bags are under his eyes and an exhausted look on his face. He doesn’t meet your eyes, not right away. It doesn’t soothe your anxieties when a coworker teases you about wearing mismatched shoes to work – your head was so jumbled in the morning that you didn’t realize you grabbed two similar shoes that belonged to different pairs – and he interrupts the interaction, telling them to go back to work.

Later, near your usual smoke break, you get a text message from him.

You okay?

Swallowing, you take a deep breath, trying to push away all doubts and questions, you type an answer:

Yeah. Meet me at the roof in 10?

Of course.

When you push the door to the roof open, he’s already there. The sunlight momentarily blinds you, a contrast to the artificial lights of the office. You walk towards him, hands shaking. He looks at you, once you’re near enough, and smiles, letting out a relieved breath. His hands reach for you, pulling into a tight embrace. It’s like he’s relieved to finally get a moment alone with you. It warms your heart and it makes you forget about your worries for a second.

“You didn’t call,” you say, wrapping your arm around his neck.

“I’m sorry.” He buries his face on your neck, inhaling your scent. The scent of your deodorant and something he can’t describe, but it smells like you , “Had a family emergency. This weekend was crazy.”

“Oh.”

A family emergency.

That could mean anything. Maybe his brother was in an accident, or his grandmother tripped and fell, or his cousin got sick, or… Or he has a family, and you’re just a secret. Just a way for Nanami to release his stress from work and then go back to the family waiting for him, lie in bed with the woman he actually loves.

Your eyes sting with unshed tears and you hear your own voice asking,

“Are you married?”

Nanami’s body tenses before he releases you, searching your eyes.

“What?”

“Are you married?” You repeat, vision going blurry now. When he doesn't respond, you continue, “I mean, you– you never stay the night,” great, now you’re sobbing, “and you never invite me to come over, and– and–” your eyes are like an open faucet, “and you didn’t call me on Sunday and didn’t come yesterday, so, please, if I’m just your mistress, please tell me.” You sob, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your cardigan, “Please.”

Kento cups your cheek and wipes your tears, looking into your eyes.

“I’m not married,” he responds and then pulls you in a hug, kissing your hair and tucking your head under his chin, “I’m sorry my actions made you believe I was.”

You sniffle, feeling stupid now, “Okay.”

After a brief pause, he speaks again, “Would you like to come over tonight? For dinner?”

You look at him, pulling away from his embrace, “Kento, I didn’t mean–”

“I know.” He interrupts you, “I still want you to come.”

Nanami’s eyes are warm and he doesn’t care that you’re a snotty mess right now. So you nod, looking away from his perfect face. He pinches your chin gently, bringing your gaze back to him and then presses his lips against yours. Your heart leaps.

He’s never kissed you in the office before. Well, technically, you’re outside, but he never showed a sign of affection like this out of fear someone would catch the both of you. Somehow, you’re not worried about that.

“Meet me at the garage floor when you clock out.”

…

“I’d like you to meet someone,” Nanami says, as you click your seatbelt off.

The ride to his apartment was filled with soft conversation, but when you entered the apartment complex garage, he spoke with a careful voice, as if he was afraid of your reaction.

“Oh?” You wonder what's this about, since he said he wasn't married.

He leads you to the elevator and presses the button to the second to last floor, placing a hand on your lower back. Your heart is hammering inside your chest, as you get closer to his apartment. Then he guides you to the door, inserting a key and opening it.

“Papa!” a flash of pink hair runs towards Kento and hugs his legs.

“You're home early– oh.” A second voice makes you look up from the little boy attached to Nanami.

A teenage boy with dark hair stares at you. Then, Nanami calls your name.

“This is Yuuji, my son,” he says, “and that's Choso, his brother.”

You don't know where to look. To the little boy in Kento’s arms, or to the grumpy teenager that's staring with suspicious eyes at you. Nanami then introduces you to the boys. Yuuji smiles politely, but you can tell he's a bit shy.

“Um… hi,” you say, looking at them.

Choso scoffs, “That explains a lot.”

“Choso–” Nanami starts but the boy just waves a hand at him.

“Yeah, I know. I have to go, though. Got too much homework to do and this little devil kept me busy.” He ruffles his brother's hair who giggles. Then he looks at you, “Nice to meet you. Your shoes are mismatched.”

You look down at your feet, even though you know you have different shoes.

“Choso.” Nanami sighs, “Be nice to your mother.”

The boy just waves a hand at him. You look back at Nanami and Yuuji.

“Do you want to come in?” He asks, smiling. Yuuji looks at you curiously, but still apprehensive, clinging to his dad's shirt and tilting his head until it rests on Nanami’s shoulder.

Oh, fuck.

You feel so stupid right now. He clearly has a family, but he doesn't have… a wife? Choso has a mother, so he’s only Nanami’s? Then why is he leaving?

Sensing your confusion, Nanami touches your arm. “I'll explain everything. Come inside.”

For some reason, you oblige. His apartment is big as you enter the foyer and observe the living room.

“You have to take your shoes off.” Yuuji’s voice stops you from taking another step into the apartment. You look at him, surprised.

“Of course,” you answer, toeing off your – mismatched – heels, revealing the chipped black nail polish on your toenails.

Should you have dressed better for this? Maybe if he told you beforehand…

No, this isn't fair on him. You're the one who cornered him and asked about his personal life.

“Are you feeling better?” Nanami's voice is soft as he talks to his son, walking inside the apartment. It hardly seems like the man who talks obscenities to you in bed.

Suddenly, you feel like an intruder. His home is clean, neat, save from a few toys on the living room floor. The open kitchen is pristine, it seems like the counters and stove were cleaned with one of those expensive products your mom used to use at home. The massive TV is turned on, on some children's program.

Panic sets in your throat. He has a son, a family. And you’ve… you've never wanted kids. You're not good with them, they don't smile at you when you talk to them, always hiding behind their parents. You're too serious, too stiff, for them.

Kento calls your name and you look up at him, blurry vision. He's got a concerned look on his face.

“Yuuji, why don't you go get your new shoes to show our guest?” He sets the kid down, who nods and runs to another room – his bedroom, you suppose. Kento approaches you, gently taking your hand and maintaining eye contact with you.

“I'm sorry,” he says, “I should've told you.”

“No, no!” You're quick to say, “I– I shouldn't have…”

“Asked?” he finishes the sentence for you, “Sweet girl, it’s perfectly understandable why you asked.”

Your heart skips a beat at the endearing name. He cups your cheek, pressing his lips on your forehead.

“Kento… I’m not good with kids…”

He smiles at you, “Don’t worry. You’ll find out that Yuuji is easy to impress.”

As if on cue, Yuuji runs back to the living room and ends up tripping on his own feet, falling to the ground. You gasp, expecting tears, but he just stands up and resumes his run to you.

“Look!” He stomps on the floor and his shoes light up, colorful lights blinking.

You raise your brows, actually impressed by them.

“Oh, wow. That's… actually kinda cool.”

Nanami smiles softly at you, even though you're not looking. You didn't force a baby voice, or crouched down to meet Yuuji's eyes, but the sincerity in your voice is real.

“What do you want to eat?” Kento asks you, carefully.

“Ramen!” Yuuji says, giving you a toothy grin.

Nanami snorts, scooping him up quickly. “I didn't ask you !”

Yuuji giggles loudly as his father holds him upside down, Nanami smiling at the sound. You've never seen him smile like that.

“Ramen is fine, actually,” you say and they stop, looking at you for a second before Kento puts Yuuji down.

“Go put your toys away, Yuuji.” He commands, voice soft and calm. Looking back at you, the man approaches, hesitantly takes your hands, and pulls you further inside the apartment, “He got sick on the weekend. I had Choso take care of him, but he got worse on Saturday night and we had to rush him to urgent care.”

You feel your eyes widening, eyeing the kid gathering his toys in the living room.

“His fever broke yesterday morning, but I decided to take the day off just to be sure.” Nanami continued.

“Oh.” If you felt stupid before, now you feel like an idiot. The guilt blooms inside your chest, making you swallow hard and look away. And, with a tiny voice, one you don’t expect him to hear, you say, “I’m such an idiot.”

To your surprise, he laughs softly, cupping your cheeks and kissing your eyebrow.

“You aren’t.” He pulls you in an embrace, “You couldn’t have known.”

“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, though.” Your voice is muffled against the fabric of his suit. Nanami’s fingers intertwine in your hair, so, so gently. So different from what you’ve experienced with him. The action makes a soft, fuzzy feeling jump inside you.

“It’s alright.” He then pulls away from you and smiles. “I would’ve too.”

You blink at him as he turns around and enters the open kitchen, leaving you to think about his words. If the situation was reversed, if you had a kid that the man you were hooking up with didn’t know about it, you’d be sure he wouldn’t bat an eyelash about it.

But you’re talking about Kento Nanami here.

The stoic, cold faced, man that is your coworker. The man who always focuses on the tasks that need to be done. The man that’s showing you he cares, that he’s soft, a totally different side of him, and, little by little, tearing down the walls around your heart, making you feel… special.

A little hand pulling on yours interrupts your train of thought and you look down to see Yuuji pulling you to the living room.

“Do you want to see my new toys?” He asks, already urging you to sit down in front of the coffee table.

“S-sure.” You look back at Nanami, but his back is turned to the living room.

There are a bunch of plastic toys scattered on the table: little trucks and cars, plastic bugs and dinosaurs and a few superhero figurines. He looks very proud of his collection, smiling and looking at your reaction as he shows you the things his dad and big brother gave to him.

Then, he hands you a toy phone. You reluctantly pick it up.

“Nanamis’ office, how can I help you?” You say into the fake phone, making Yuuji laugh, “oh, he’s not available right now, his schedule is pretty tight– Sir, please calm down, no need to yell.” Yuuji laughs more, but your face is so serious that Kento wonders how you do it, “Alright, sir, I’ll ask, just a moment.” You place a hand on the ‘receiver’ and look back at Yuuji, “Sorry, Yuuji, but Mark from sales wants to speak with you, do you have time?” he has a toothy grin plastered on his face. You resume your fake conversation, “Uh, he’s really busy, doing important things, you’ll have to call later. Would you like to leave a message?”

A deep laugh interrupts your play and you look up to see Kento smiling at you. Your cheeks burn as you put the fake phone down.

“You’re funny.” Yuuji says, leaning on your side. You look back at him.

“Thank you.”

Kento, then, places a sousplat on the coffee table, following with a bowl of ramen in front of you. He does the same for him and Yuuji, warning the boy about the temperature. The little boy sits between you and Kento, happily grabbing the spoon and scooping the warm liquid. You watch as he brings the spoon to Kento and waits for him to blow on the food.

Your heart does that funny thing again.

Deciding to ignore it, you take the spoon and bring the soup from the ramen to your lips. The high temperature burns your mouth, making you drop the spoon, clattering on the ceramic bowl.

“Shit” You mumble, bringing your hand to your lips.

“Shit!” Yuuji exclaims, with a toothy grin.

Widening your eyes and looking at him, then at Nanami, you feel your heart drop. You did not just teach a little kid to curse, did you?

“Shit!” The boy repeats. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

“Oh, no.” As your heart beats faster, Nanami smiles at you, laughing softly.

“Choso taught him how to curse last week.” He explains, reaching to the jar of water on the center of the table and pouring you a glass.

“Shit, fuck!” Yuuji continues.

Surprised, you let out a nervous laugh.

“Yuuji.” Nanami scolds, gently. “We have a guest tonight. Be polite.”

Yuuji giggles and takes a bite of his food, like nothing had happened. Nanami is still smiling softly at you, lingering his stare. His brown eyes are soft, as if he holds a certain admiration for you.

The rest of the night goes with conversations with a kid, helping Kento to tie up the kitchen and putting Yuuji to bed.

Nanami sighs as he closes his son's bedroom door and walks over to you, back in the living room. You stare at each other with soft smiles for a moment, prolonging the time; you avoid saying that you have to leave, wanting to stay longer in his company, in his home.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” He asks, and your heart warms.

“It's a weekday,” you argue.

“I know.”

Then you nod, feeling the heat creep on your cheekbones. Nanami pours you a glass of red wine and guides you back to the couch. He crosses his leg, supporting an ankle on a knee, and stretching his arm on the top of the couch. He turns to face you, taking a sip of his red wine. Accepting his invitation, you approach him and snuggle on his body, his warmth radiates to you.

“How old is he?” You ask, after a moment of silence.

“Four,” he answers, rubbing circles with his thumb on your shoulder. When you don't say anything, he continues, “his… his mother is not in the picture.”

“Oh.” Your heart breaks a little to think of him and Yuuji abandoned by a faceless woman.

You feel him swallow hard and pull away to look into his eyes, “You don't have to tell me if you don't want…”

Nanami smiles softly, brushing a strand of your hair away from your face.

“It's alright.” He whispers. “I want to.”

You sit with your legs crossed on the couch as he tells you all about it. He tells you how he met Yuuji's mother at a bar and had a one night stand that resulted in her getting pregnant. He tells you how she wanted to get rid of it, and how he even drove her to the clinic, but felt an urge to convince her to keep it.

“I told her it was her choice, and hers only,” he says, “but if she wanted to, I'd support her in any way possible. She already had Choso and being a single mother is very hard. In the end, we decided I'd get the baby and she'd pay for child support. I told her it wasn't necessary, but she insisted.”

A valid reason, you think. Maybe this woman was so hurt in the past that another kid wouldn't do well for her.

“It's been Yuuji and I, ever since. At least until Choso found us last month.”

A smile creeps on your face, “He seems… nice.”

Nanami almost barks a laugh, holding himself to not wake Yuuji up.

“He’s a teenager. But he's very protective of Yuuji. I guess he's always wanted a brother, that's why he looked for us.”

You nod, reflecting on what he said. You can't help but feel compassion for Nanami, imagining it must have been hard for him in the first moments. Taking care of a newborn, on his own, and still going to work… you feel your heart squeeze.

“I know it's a bit overwhelming,” he says, interrupting your thoughts, “I-I… I won't blame you if you don't want this anymore…”

There. The insecurity is clear in his eyes, that avoid yours, in his stuttered words – have you ever heard him stutter before? –, in the way he leans his elbows on his knees. You can't help but feel sorry for him, but a deeper feeling takes over you.

Something strange, unfamiliar, but comforting. You don't know what it is yet, but you'll soon find out.

But it's something that drives you to uncross your legs and lean forward, against him. Gently, you take his chin and guide him to look at you. Without saying a word, you bring your lips to his, in a soft kiss.

“I don’t know how to deal with children,” you say, touching your forehead with his and closing your eyes, “but you can teach me. I know I’m clumsy and I have problems paying attention to what I wear to work, but if you… if you both give me a chance to let me in, I’ll do my best.”

Nanami cups your cheeks and leans forward to kiss you, before murmuring on your lips,

“You’re already in, sweet girl.”

Tears pool in your eyes as you kiss him back, not paying attention to the half empty glass of wine in your hands, only when it spills all over your blouse and on the couch.

“Fuck,” you whisper, quickly catching the – now empty – glass and standing up, “I’m so sorry!”

He stands up as well, never minding the stain on the couch, “I think that’s on me this time, darling.” Looking at your blouse, wet and stained, he inhales deeply. “You uh… That’s gonna stain if you don’t wash it soon.”

You look at him, knowing damn well the blouse is gone, the white fabric forever stained red. There’s a blush on Nanami’s cheekbones that makes you snicker.

“Should I take it off, then?” You ask, feigning innocence.

“Yes.” He answers too fast and you know what’s to come.

Untucking the blouse from your skirt, you cross your arms at your front and pull it over your head. Nanami’s breath hitches and he closes his hands in fists when he sees your black bra. It’s simple, not even lacy or anything, but the sight of your breasts in them makes him want to lose control.

You hand him the blouse with a smirk on your face. He says something under his breath that you can’t understand and takes it from you, “This will probably take all night.”

“I can stay as long as it takes,” you reply, “if that’s okay–”

“It’s okay.” Again with the quick answers, “There’s a shirt in my bedroom. It’s at the end of the hallway. I’ll throw this in the washing machine and be right there.”

You can tell he’s holding himself by the strain on his voice, but you put that aside, because now you’re excited to see his room. Walking through the corridor, you pass Yuuji’s bedroom and what looks to be Nanami’s office. His bedroom is neat, organized, which reflects on the kind of person he is. It’s bigger than yours, with floor to ceiling windows, and a king sized bed – that looks so soft you’re afraid to sit on it–, a walk-in closet, and a big mirror leaned on the wall.

The windows are what catches your attention. You’ve never seen a city like that, lit up in the dark, you can only see the lights of other buildings and the cars down there. It’s beautiful.

Two hands snake on your waist, making you jump. Nanami’s lips brush on your shoulders from behind as he pulls you closer, your back against his chest. Relaxing your muscles, you lean back on him, touching his arms.

“The view is beautiful.” You tell him as he peppers wet kisses from your shoulders to your neck.

“Hmm, this one too.” he says softly and you smile.

He starts to run his hands on your body, squeezing the flesh of your hips, cupping your breasts and hiking your skirt up to caress your inner thighs. Nanami moans in your ear.

“These damn lacy thigh highs.”

“Kento…” You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder, “What about Yuuji…”

“I guess you’ll have to be quiet tonight.” He caresses your back and your neck until his hands are in your hair, giving it a tug that makes you whine quietly, desire coursing in your veins.

His mouth finds yours in a desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue, and it’s like he doesn’t kiss you in years . Nanami unzips your skirt from behind and pulls it down, turning your head, making you look at your reflection on the window.

“Do you know how hot you are?” He whispers, a feral look on his face. You don’t have to look into his eyes to know his pupils are dilated with lust.

“No…” You sigh. “Tell me… Show me.”

A hand dips between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side, and wasting no time in coating his fingers with your wetness. You hear him groan and say something, but your mind goes blank when he messily rubs your clit. A moan escapes your lips and he lets go of your hair to cover them.

“Shh…” Nanami says, “Be a good girl and I’ll let you come tonight.”

Oh, god. You love when he takes control like this. It’s how you know he’s going to fuck you good.

Without warning, Nanami sinks two fingers inside you. You’re so wet that they glide in easily, making him chuckle.

“Kento…” you mumble, voice muffled by his hand. “Please…”

He moves his hand from your lip to your neck, “What’s that, sweet girl?”

“Please…” you repeat.

“Please what? Use your words, princess.”

Your breath hitches at the endearing name, “Please, fuck me.”

Nanami smiles and it takes a second until he guides you to bed.

“Take these off,” he says while unbuttoning his shirt, “keep the thighs on.”

You know he loves when you wear high thighs, especially the lacy ones. Reaching behind you, and unclasping your bra, a smile graces your features when he takes his shirt and pants off.

It never gets boring.

Nanami grows impatient and helps you pull down your underwear, spreading your legs after. The anticipation and excitement make you lose your breath, as he softly runs the back of his fingers on your inner thighs, tracing the lace and the soft skin of your upper thigh, getting closer and closer to where you want him to touch you the most.

“Kento…” your breath hitches when one of his fingers barely touches your center, “don’t tease.”

He laughs, smiling at you. “Now you want to tell me what to do?”

“No!” You shake your head, closing your eyes, “I just… Need you.”

Without warning, he kneels between your legs and latches at you. You whine, falling on the mattress and tangling your fingers on his soft hair. Nanami eats you like a starved man, like if you're someone he’s been missing for a long time. Your breath gets heavier by the second and, particularly, when he inserts two fingers inside you again, using his thumb to circle the most sensitive part of you.

“Love the way you taste,” he says, eyes hooded and cheeks flushed. You don’t answer as you feel your orgasm building up slowly on your lower stomach.

“Hmm, don’t stop.” You manage to say.

“Anything for my good girl.” He mumbles, putting his mouth on you one more time.

The compliment is what makes you come, your hand over your lips to muffle your moans and whimpers. Eye rolling to the back of your head, you try to close your legs but Nanami doesn’t stop, riding out your orgasm like he does so many times.

When he’s done, he leaves a trail of kisses up on your stomach until he reaches your face, hoovering above you.

“You look so pretty when you come.”

Laughing, you try to hide your face, but when Nanami pries your fingers apart, he kisses you softly. Your moans, muffled by his lips, are quiet when he sinks in you, starting a slow pace; he buries his face on your shoulder and you wrap your legs around his hips, hugging him closer – as if it was possible – to you.

It’s not enough.

“Kento,” you whisper in his ear, “fuck me harder.”

Nanami grunts and pulls away from you, slipping out and roughly flipping you on your stomach.

“Ass up.” His voice is commanding and you oblige, moving to stay on all fours, “you asked for this, sweet girl,” he thrusts into you hard, “now take it like the good girl you are.”

He hits a spot inside you that makes you see stars; you can’t help to think how full you are, how complete you feel with him inside.

“ Shit .” Nanami’s voice is a hoarse, breathy, mumble. His fingers dig on the skin of your hips. You can feel the pressure of his blunt nails and it only makes you shudder. Your eyes rolling back, a strangled moan leaves your lips.

“I-” you try to speak, but Nanami grabs your hair by the roots, pulling you up so your sweaty back meets his hard chest. “Fuck, Kento!”

His mouth finds your ear, breathing hard as his hips meet your behind, “You like it when I pull your hair like this?”

Words escape you when he hits that spot inside you again, taking your breath away. It only makes Nanami pull harder on your hair, your scalp stinging pleasantly. The all too familiar sensation on your lower stomach starts to emerge.

“Do you?” he insists, his pace becoming slower, teasing you.

“Yes, fuck-” you gasp.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Mr. Nanami ! I love it when you pull my hair!”

He hums satisfied, “Good girl.”

Nanami lets go of your hair too soon, pushing your face against the mattress, but you don't have time to whine as he starts thrusting faster and harder inside you. Your knees almost give in and your legs shake. Trying to warn him, mumbling as he pistols his hips with no mercy. It’s only when the pad of his thumb presses against the tight ring of muscles behind you that you let out a raspy moan, letting it all out.

“Fuck, you little slut ,” he groans, coming together with you, releasing his spill inside you, “look at the fucking mess you’d made.”

Your senses are out of control, you’re seeing double and you barely register the soaked sheets as Nanami rides your and his orgasms out. When he finally stops his pace, you let out a shaky breath. You feel him pull out of you with a groan, leaning against your back once more, planting kisses on your face. The sigh that leaves your lips in relief is replaced by a yelp when he turns you on your back, pressing his lips on yours.

“Make up your mind, am I a good girl or am I a slut?” you smile on his lips.

He lets out a laugh, his smile making his eyes wrinkle at the corners.

“You’re wonderful,” he replies, out of breath, “You okay?”

“Yes.” you nod. “Sorry about the mess.”

Nanami shakes his head, “I love your mess.”

Lips parted, you pause at his words and absorb its meaning.

“Do you want to shower?” He asks, as if nothing has happened.

“Yes, please.”

Nanami guides you to the bathroom and gives you toiletries, kissing you one last time before you enter the shower. You use his soap, so uniquely him , and the extra toothbrush he gave you to brush your teeth. Then, when you leave the bathroom, he’s wearing his previous boxers and has already changed the sheets. As usual.

When he looks up at you, he smiles, “Will you stay the night?”

Warmth blooms in your heart. You nod quickly, not saying a word, afraid you’ll tear up.

Then he hands you a pair of pajamas. “Sorry, I only have men’s pajamas.”

“It’s okay.” You whisper. “Thank you.”

Nanami presses his lips against yours in a short sweet kiss, “You go ahead and lie down. I’ll take a quick shower.”

Nodding again, you smile to yourself as you dress the blue pajama he gave you and get on bed. Everything about this night was perfect. Meeting Yuuji and having dinner with both of them. Learning more about Nanami’s life, him showing an important part of him.

And you can’t wait to wake up next to him tomorrow.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jjk smut #gabiwrites.txt

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ghostlychief · 4 months

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tattooed heart

the one where you ask Ghost about his tattoos

---

You’re lying in bed with your head on Ghost’s chest, able to feel the rise and fall of his breathing as you examine his tattooed arm. Your hands hold up his (surprisingly) heavy arm in order to study the designs more effectively. You’ve been asking him the story behind each tattoo for the past half hour, intrigued by what inspired them. And Ghost has answered you thus far, quelling your wonder in the history behind his now full sleeve. Some have more in-depth stories than others, or are more meaningful to him, but he never fails to answer you earnestly, always giving you a good story behind each one.

You can’t exactly explain what prompted you to sit down (rather lay down) with Ghost to get the details and pick his brain about his sleeve. Maybe you secretly just wanted to run your hand up and down his arm, tracing his tattoos while also being able to feel his solid muscles underneath them, and so therefore you needed an excuse. Maybe you just wanted to feel closer to him somehow, anyway you could, and this is what you came up with that night. Whatever the true reason, you will always look back at this memory fondly, as you spend the night together, learning more about each other.

“Mm what about this one?” You’re pointing at the American traditional skull and snake tattoo on his upper bicep. Ghost chuckles lightly at your pondering, finding it cute that you were so invested in the story behind each and every one of the tattoos on his arm.

“What’s the story behind it?” you ask again. Your fingertip runs gently over the design, tracing the pattern, the action making goosebumps arise on Ghost’s skin. Your soft eyes glance up at him, catching his gaze as well which makes him smile at you. His other arm, that’s not being investigated at the moment, tightens it hold around your shoulders and he lets out a nostalgic sigh before answering you.

“Well to be honest, it was as cover up for another tattoo I got many years ago.”

You let out a hum of understanding before asking, “What was the other tattoo? How bad could it have been for you to get it covered up?”

You and your questions.

Letting out another sigh and with regret coating his voice, he finally answers you. “I lost a dare with my friends and had to get the cliche, heart with ‘mom’ written in it. And obviously that doesn’t really fit the vibe of what I was going for, for my sleeve, so I eventually just got it covered up.” He nonchalantly shrugs after finishing his explanation, subsequently making you shift on his chest.

You prop yourself up a little so you can see him better. “Aww is Simon a mama’s boy?” You have a knowing smile on your lips as you look up at him, and see his eyes roll to heaven and back at your teasing.

“Alright, that’s it. You’re done asking me about my tattoos.” He pulls his arm out of your grasp, although not too roughly, and gently pushes you back onto the bed and rolls on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head propping him up and caging you under him.

“Are you done?” he asks while lowering himself slightly so he can nudge your nose with his, your lips just a hair’s breadth apart.

You close your eyes at his gesture, already forgetting about your questions, your thoughts quickly consumed by Simon being on top of you, being this close to you. You nudge his nose back and hum, “I think I could be, if you can take my mind off of things.”

You open your eyes then and see Simon smirking down at you. “Say no more.”

---

#Simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley fluff #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley fanfiction #simon riley imagine #simon riley fluff #cod ghost x reader #cod ghost x you #cod ghost imagine #cod ghost fanfiction #cod ghost fluff

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chaos-in-deepspace · 7 days

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LDS: "Watch This!" | Crack

So I dunno about you, but I'm one of those idiots who seldom drink water and sometimes forgets to eat for like two days. So when I stand up too fast it's like a moment of "Oh look the lights went out." So anyway that's the entire idea for this. Everyone experiences this, right? This is a normal human thing to experience when you stand up? Just standing up and almost (or actually) peacing out? Anyway, I never said my writing ideas were good but I they're there.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Fainting, Crack Fic, Reader can't take care of themselves, Zayne is stressed as your doctor, Rafayel might have a heart attack, Xavier just assumes you died, Rafayel does as well but he's dramatic on a good day

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

"Xavier, I promise you I am totally fine. I just got a little dizzy because of the heat." You tried assuring the blonde man as he looked around his apartment. He had already gotten a cold compress and thrown a glass of water in your hands for you to sip on. This was all because you guys had gone on a small jog together to prepare for the latest event in town and you had gotten a bit woozy. He had insisted on carrying you back to the apartments and here you where.

"Your face went as white as a sheet." He pointed out and you scoffed. Impossible. You don't even think it's possible to turn that color with how hot you had felt. If he said you looked like a cherry tomato or something from how red your face had gotten from the exertion it would've been more believable.

"Xavier, would an unwell person be able to do this?" You asked as you went to stand. As you jolted into a standing position you then remembered a key detail. The water he had given you was the first thing you had to drink today...and you don't think you had breakfast either.

The thought flashed through your mind as you felt the blood pounding in your ears and your vision darkening. Your only thought was 'Oh sugar, we're going down, down.' before you collapsed in on yourself.

Next thing you knew you were lying on the ground, a soft lap underneath you as Xavier fanned you off. You groaned as you came to, staring at Xavier's face. The man looked like he had just witnessed your death as he stared at you with wide eyes.

"Oh good morning." You managed to murmur out. Xavier's eyes narrowed as he glared down at you.

"You said you were fine then immediately fainted. I was about to call an ambulance." He scolded you, his tone harsh as he shifted your head on his lap. You noticed his free hand was holding a cell phone.

"Oh don't do that please. I'm okay."

"That's what you said last time."

"How about this...you get me something yummy to eat and I drink some water and if I'm still fainting after that then we can consider maybe going to see a doctor."

"Do you swear?"

"No..."

"We're going to the hospital." You then felt your world shift again as you were tossed unceremoniously over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You beat his back, begging him to let you down. Alas, once Xavier had his mind made, there was nothing you could do to stop him.

Zayne

"Have you already eaten today?" It was a simple enough question as you sat at the end of your check up with your favorite doctor. Your legs swinging over the edge as you put in some thought to that question. Zayne sat there, waiting patiently as he looked up and quirked an eyebrow in question.

"That is a brilliant question that I don't have an answer to." You might've eaten something today...or perhaps that was yesterday? The days sometimes blurred together in the most confusing ways.

"Have you drank any water?" Oh that was an easy question. No. The answer was no.

"You know the first ingredient in an energy drink is water."

"No..." Zayne said, pinching his eyebrows together in frustration. How you managed to still be alive is a miracle. Not even science could explain how you didn't just kneel over on any given day with how little care you put into your health.

"Zayne, I can promise you, I am totally healthy. Watch this." You stated before jumping up off the examination table. Immediately you felt the world shifting under you like the floor decided to become sentient and move like a damn treadmill.

Next thing you knew, you were waking up in the arms of the best cardiac surgeon at Akso hospital. You grumbled a bit as the light was bright. You looked up to see Zayne's not amused expression, in fact you might even call it a frustrated look.

"How long was I out?"

"30 seconds too long."

"Am I in trouble?"

"You're going to the cafeteria with me right now to get food and water. If you faint again I'm admitting you for the night and hooking you up to an IV."

"So you're saying fainting gets me a dinner date with the Doctor Zayne, and a possible sleepover?"

"Why are you like this?"

Rafayel

You made the realization that you could only entertain yourself by playing on your phone for so long. Rafayel had promised that as soon as he finished some light detail work on his latest painting, you could go out to town and grab some dinner.

That was well over six hours ago as you laid on his couch. You had already finished a book you had downloaded on your phone, scrolled through all your social media, checked out new memes, and caught up on videos of people you followed. As you looked over you saw Rafayel was still sitting on his stool, painting away.

You groaned, rolling yourself off the couch you had been glued to for those entire six hours. You plopped onto the floor, noting that he really did need to clean this studio up a bit. Normally Rafayel would at least be talking to you, but he had been so quiet and boring today.

"Raf...I'm dying of boredom here." You finally called out to him. The man in question looked over at you then looked outside. The sun had set a long time ago and he paused in what he was doing.

"I promise, I'm almost done." He said with a sigh and you groaned again. Then you remembered a little party trick you had up your sleeve. You'd admit you were actually hungry on account of being too busy to eat and then being promised food earlier, you opted not to have snacks. Not to mention water was gross for drinking so it all accumulated into the perfect way to get his attention.

"Rafayel, I'm fading away. I'm starving. I might die. I'm so weak." You called out from the floor and Rafayel finally turned in his stool to eye you up and down.

"I'm sure you are." His tone was sarcastic as he looked at you. He seemed to be entertained by your antics, "I can always order you some food. I also have snacks in the kitchen." He pointed out.

"That won't work, Raf. I'm too far gone. I mean...just watch this." You said, jumping up from your position on the ground. As soon as you were in a standing position, your body fought against you. Your ears were ringing uncomfortably and your vision went in and out. You could barely hear Rafayel calling your name in concern, followed by a him cursing as things clattered.

You collapsed, fainting just like you knew your dumbass would. You knew your body and knew the perfect conditions for going lights out, after all.

When you came to, you saw Rafayel almost in tears as he tried getting you to wake up. You murmured something that not even you could decipher as Rafayel's shoulders sagged in relief.

"I thought you actually died." He looked shaken up as you raised a hand to touch his cheek.

"Can we get food now like you promised?"

Rafayel was silent for a moment as he calmed his heart down and looked at you, "Did you faint just so I'd stop painting and take you to dinner?"

"Well did it work?"

"...Yes, but never do that again."

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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months

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Holiday Spirit

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: You don't have travel plans for the holidays

Running away to play football in a foreign country wasn't one of your smartest moves but it was certainly one of your best.

You just wished that it didn't mean fielding questions of what you were doing for Christmas.

"When do you need to get back?" Lucy asked you one morning as you changed. She was leaning against your locker, typing away at her phone.

"Where? Home? I've got homework to do later. I think Mapi told Alexia that she would come over to supervise me. I can't go out with you."

"No, I mean for Christmas. When do you need to be back in England? Me and Keira are looking at flights. We're happy to take you back with us. Give you over to your parents when we land."

You laughed awkwardly. "Thanks but I don't need to fly back with you guys."

Lucy gave you a weird look before she nodding. "Your parents are flying out to spend Christmas here. That's nice."

You didn't have the heart to tell her that you hadn't spoken to your parents since they gave you permission to go to Barcelona and then promptly kicked you out. So, you just didn't answer her.

You were sure that it had been swept under the rug after that but Lucy must have brought it up in conversation because, as you pushed your lunch around your plate, Paredes slumped into the seat next to you.

You gave her an odd look. Irene didn't tend to sit on this side of the room. She usually kept to the older girls while you usually ended up squished between Ona and Salma - though both of them had been kept behind for media.

"Er...hi?"

She narrowed her eyes at you, like she was trying to work something out.

"Hello? If this is a test to get me to work on my Spanish, it's not going to work. I can sit in complete silence."

"When are your parents flying out?" She asked.

Your stomach plummeted and you placed down your fork. "Who told you my parents were flying out?"

"Lucy said that you didn't need to fly out with her and Keira."

"I didn't tell her that my parents were flying out," You insisted," Just that I didn't need to fly with her and Keira."

Technically, you weren't lying. That was what you told Lucy. You were already at rock bottom. You just had to get the pickaxe out and keep digging.

"Hmm," Paredes said, staring at you for a long while," You're an unaccompanied minor. Someone would have to drop you off at the airport. If you want one of us to take you there that's fine but Lucy and Keira would be the safer bet."

You just laughed awkwardly, not entirely sure how to bring up that you definitely weren't going home and your parents definitely weren't coming to you either.

"Ha, I guess so."

Paredes looked at you for a moment longer. "I want your travel plans by the end of the week. If you don't want to travel with Lucy and Keira, that's fine, but we need to know who's getting you to the airport."

Safe to say, you never did get back to Paredes about your non-existent travel plans. You hunkered down in the little apartment the club paid for and wrapped a blanket tightly around your shoulders.

Usually, the building was full of your international teammates but with Christmas in a week, everyone had already gone home - except for you.

You were content though, with all your lights off, dressed in fuzzy pyjamas as you cradled a cup of hot chocolate. A movie had been put on for background noise but you were busy skimming through tiktok on your phone so you weren't really watching it.

A knock sounded at you door.

You ignored it. You never opened the door when someone randomly knocked. Everybody knew to text you first.

Case and point: The banging got louder and louder and, honestly, you just hoped that the drunkard outside your door would realise they had the wrong apartment soon.

Your phone screen lit up with an incoming call.

You frowned.

"Hello?"

A sharp suck of breath came from Patri. "You're alive." She raised her voice. "She's alive! Where are you?"

"At home? Why?"

"Which home?" She asked urgently.

"What do you mean which home? To my knowledge, I only have one."

"Spain or England?"

"Spain. Patri, seriously, you're freaking me out here."

"Open your door."

"What?"

"Open your door right now!"

You didn't really want to, not with the drunk guy outside of it but something in Patri's voice made you obey her.

You swung open the door.

A body slammed into you, an arm around your shoulders and a hand cradling the back of your head.

"You're okay," Alexia said, sounding slightly choked up," You're okay."

You peered over her shoulder, seeing a group of your teammates behind her.

Patri.

Pina.

Paredes.

You could just about see Aitana and Marta making their way down the corridor too.

"Why...wouldn't I be okay?" You asked.

Alexia didn't release you, holding you close so it was Paredes that answered.

"Because we asked Keira if you had gotten back to your parents safely but she said that you never flew with her. So, we asked Mapi and Ingrid if they dropped you off but they said you hadn't even mentioned needing to go to the airport."

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared, peering into your dark apartment.

"And I don't see your parents anywhere."

You glared back at her. "I never said anything about meeting my parents."

Patri and Pina winced and you knew that it was the wrong thing to say when you felt Alexia tense. She pulled back and looked at you.

"What do you mean you never talked about meeting your parents?" She asked sharply.

"Why would I meet with my parents?"

"It's Christmas!"

"Technically, it's a week before Christmas."

"Don't sass me!"

You shrunk a little under the weight of Alexia's glare and you wondered briefly if you could shove everyone out of your apartment and swing the door shut in your face.

But, given the way that Alexia was holding you, and the way that Marta and Paredes were guarding your door, you gathered that that wasn't a good idea.

Aitana, Patri and Pina (the little rats) had all made themselves comfortable in your house, flicking on the lights and helping themselves to your slightly lukewarm mug of hot chocolate - leaving you completely at the mercy of the older players.

The combined weight of Marta, Paredes and Alexia's stares had you awkwardly chuckling.

"Sooo...It's kind of late. I should probably head to bed, huh? We should talk tomorrow. Good? Good."

"And let you sneak out of that conversation too?" Paredes said," Not a chance. Where are your parents?"

"England, I assume. Unless they've fallen off the face of the earth which, admittedly, would be pretty cool."

"And why are you here and they aren't?"

You shrugged. "Because?"

"That's not an excuse," Marta said warningly when it look like steam was about to come out of Paredes and Alexia's ears," The truth, now."

"Why I'm here and my parents aren't? I don't know if you've noticed but that's always the case."

Patri, Pina and Aitana snickered on the sofa, flicking through your Netflix account for something to watch.

"No more sass," Alexia said firmly," I mean it or you're going to be in some serious trouble." She sounded pretty serious too so you just sighed.

"I...I'm not going back to England for Christmas."

"Obviously," You heard Patri mutter but you ignored her.

"And your parents?" Alexia probed.

"They're staying in England for Christmas."

Silence reigned through your little apartment although you knew that everyone had already suspected what you had said. It was just different when it was finally said out loud.

"Why isn't your Mama coming to see you?" Paredes asked, a mother herself so you gathered something like this hit close to home.

You shrugged. "We don't talk. I don't talk to either of my parents. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal? Not a big deal!"

Alexia looked like she was about to burst into tears on your behalf which was something that you didn't quite understand but just kind of rolled with.

Aitana gently guided you over to the sofa like she thought you were about to break at a moment's notice, squishing you between her and Pina while Alexia, Paredes and Marta took refuge a bit further away on your armchairs.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Marta asked when it looked like Alexia had finally gotten a hold of herself.

"What's there to tell?" You said dismissively, swatting at Pina until she surrendered your hot chocolate back to you. It was practically cold now but you had made it using milk instead of water and you would be damned if you let it go to waste.

"Maybe about why you're avoiding seeing your parents?"

To your credit, your voice was more steady than you felt. "We don't talk anymore. They said it was either football or them." You gestured to your apartment, to the teammates scattered around your living room. "I chose football."

"And your parents were okay with that?" Marta asked.

"Well, clearly not, seeing as we're all sitting here, having this conversation." You scoffed in amusement. "In fact, I think my dad even said that if I ever showed my face again while playing football that he would swing at me."

It sounded harsh in the ears of your teammates but to you it wasn't. Your father always threatened bodily harm even against the most mundane of things like a driver cutting him off in traffic.

Alexia, in particular, looked stricken at your confession. You kind of understood. You knew that her father had been her biggest supporter and that each and every time she stepped on the pitch she wanted to do well in his memory.

You...not so much.

Anytime you stepped onto the pitch, it was a like a big middle finger to your parents (although you knew that they wouldn't even be bothered to watch any of your matches).

"That's not funny," Paredes said firmly," You father shouldn't have said that to you."

You just shrugged again, rolling your eyes. "Is this meeting of the Spanish Inquisition over? I've got a show to watch."

There was silence for a moment before Aitana spoke, sounding completely heartbroken.

"You're spending Christmas alone?"

"Yeah? Sorry, did I not make that clear?"

"Don't be silly," Alexia said though, talking over you completely as she typed on her phone," Of course she's not spending Christmas alone."

You glanced over at Patri and Pina, just in case they were privy to something that you weren't but they both just look as confused as you.

"Er...No, I am. I just said that."

"And I just said that you're not."

You cocked your head to the side. "I-I don't think that's how it works. You can't just speak stuff in existence."

"I'm not. You're spending Christmas with me."

"I don't remember agreeing to that."

"You didn't need to." She held up her phone. "Mami already agreed. She's asking if you're allergic to anything?"

"Um, no...Wait, hey! You can't just kidnap me! I'm fine being on my own."

"You're sixteen," Marta said," Go back with Alexia. You can have a proper Spanish Christmas. Her mum makes good food."

"I don't need a proper Spanish Christmas and I don't need good food. Everything I need, is right here."

"Oh, yeah?" Patri teased," Powder hot chocolate and microwaveable meals. You're eating like a queen, really taking care of yourself."

You stuck your tongue out at her before looking back at Alexia. "Honestly, I'm fine here. Your mum doesn't need to make me food or anything."

"Funny," Alexia said though her tone made it seem anything but," I don't remember this being a discussion. Besides, I already told Mami. She'll be very upset with me if I don't bring you along."

You huffed, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this now. "You didn't have to do that. I was perfectly fine by myself."

"You're sixteen," Alexia replied," You shouldn't have be 'perfectly fine' by yourself. Aitana, help her pack her bags. Patri, Pina...I know you were planning to do it anyway but raid the fridge. Make sure nothing will go off while she's away."

"Wait, we're going now?!"

"Si, now. You said it earlier. It is late. You should go to bed. The sooner you're packed, the sooner we can go."

"Can't you just get me tomorrow?"

"No." She waved a dismissive hand as Aitana dragged you away. "Off you go. And remember to pack a scarf!"

#woso x reader #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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cupid-styles · 8 months

Text

silk and rope 2

ddlg harry and submissive/little y/n

in which feelings start to grow, y/n is impatient, and harry has to punish her (and someone says something they shouldn't).

word count: 6.7k

content warnings: daddy dom and little/sub y/n dynamics, smut!!!! (anal play, squirting, dirty talk, doggy style, cream pie/a little bit of cum play, use of a collar, y/n in her little space). as stated in the first part, there may be some things pertaining to bdsm/daddy dom relationships that are wrong, but I did my best with researching!!! pls don't hate me if something isn't right!!!!!!

masterlist | read part one

talk to me

. . .

The next morning, Y/N wakes up to an empty bed.

She's sweating, though, and she realizes it's because her body is covered in almost every fuzzy blanket in her apartment, including her comforter. With her eyes still shut, she stretches her legs out and rolls to the side, only for her face to be met with a piece of paper on the pillow next to hers.

She hums in confusion as she wiggles her hands out of the burrito of blankets she's encased in, flipping open the note.

Y/N,

Good morning, I hope you slept well. I had to leave early for work, but I checked your calendar downstairs and saw that you don't have to go in until 2, so I left you sleeping. (Just so you know, I slept on the couch — we hadn't spoken about boundaries after sex so I didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way.)

I assume your body is probably still sore from last night, so there's a heating pad on the coffee table and a few cold compresses in the freezer I made before leaving. I'm sorry I'm not here to take care of you but please text me when you're awake. I'd like to talk through everything we did and see how you felt about it all.

Have a good day xx

Daddy

Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth to avoid a grin from breaking out onto her face. She feels like a teenage girl, the way she clutches the handwritten note to her chest, butterflies readily swarming her stomach as she thinks back to the previous night. Memories start to flood back — she'd allowed herself to go under, further than she'd gone in a really long time, but Harry... he'd gone beyond her wildest dreams.

She's lying if she says she hadn't at least contemplated what he's like in an intimate setting — he's beautiful, for Christ's sake, and Naomi mentioned once that they drunkenly made out once, describing it as "one of the best kisses I've ever had" — but it felt as though he'd been crafted just for her. He had worked her up and up, teasing her, pushing her limits but always making her feel safe and cared for. She'd never came that much with a dominant before either, which certainly wasn't a downside.

And when it was over... when she was still so floaty and moony-eyed over him, he tucked her into the safety of his body. He ran them a warm bath and washed her skin and hair, put new bedding on her mattress, and pulled sweatpants and a tee-shirt over her form. If she's honest, she hardly remembers much of the aftermath, but she does recall feeling completely and utterly peaceful.

Y/N doesn't know if she's ever felt that way in her entire life. There's a part of her — a rather big one, if she's honest — that wonders how Harry, of all people, the sweet guy in her friend group that's always too busy working to hang out, managed to get her there.

She shakes her head in an effort to rid herself of the thoughts, not wanting to over-think everything so early in the morning. She'd had such a good time last night and she hopes it had been the same for him, so she's eager to leave it at that.

As requested, though, she grabs her phone from her nightstand (she doesn't remember plugging it in last night, but she assumes Harry did) and pulls up their conversation, firing off a quick text to let him know she's awake. It's not even two minutes before she's receiving an incoming call from him.

"Hello?" Y/N answers, her voice slightly scratchy from using it for the first time that morning.

"Hey," Harry greets. She knows he's at work, but it sounds like he's outside somewhere, faint sounds of cars going by in the background. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Where are you?"

"Work," he replies easily, then pauses. "Well, I came downstairs to call you. Didn't want everyone to hear my conversation with you."

"Oh. Isn't it cold out?" Y/N hasn't checked the weather yet but there's already a frosty chill in the air of her apartment, and she's sure when her feet touch the floors, her body will immediately recoil.

"A little. I'm wearing a sweater, I'm fine. Are you feeling alright?"

She hums as she quickly takes inventory of her body, stretching her limbs out, though her movements are softened by the blankets she's under.

"I'm a little sore, but otherwise good. Someone put like, 20 blankets on top of me so it's a bit hard to tell."

Harry snorts at that, "Yeah, babe, your apartment is fuckin' freezing at night. I think there's something wrong with your thermostat."

"Mhmm. It's been broken for months, I've been bugging the landlord to do something about it."

"I'll take care of it. There's no way I'm letting you go into winter like that."

Her body warms at his assertive tone, her fingers finding a loose thread on her tee-shirt to play with.

"So, we don't have to talk about this all right now — I know you just got up and probably need some time to digest, but I just want to make sure everything we did last night was alright." Harry says, the sound of a car whizzing by serving as a punctuation to his sentence.

"It was great," Y/N replies, perhaps far too quickly for her own good, "Really. You were, um... really good."

"Yeah?" he chuckles and it makes her cheeks flush even more. "You were really good, too. I had a nice time with you."

"Do you... would you wanna continue this?" she asks, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She hasn't really entertained a version of this where Harry doesn't want to be her dominant, but she supposes that she could do with one night if he didn't have an interest in continuing.

"Of course," he murmurs easily, his voice noticeably dropping a lower tone, "Do you?"

"Yes. Yeah. Absolutely."

"Lucky me."

She nearly chokes on her own spit on that, but just manages to keep it together, hoping he didn't hear her visceral reaction over the phone.

"You go in to work this afternoon, right?" Harry asks, moving on way too quickly that it makes Y/N's head spin just a bit.

"Yeah, I'm 2 to 8 today."

"Okay. I packed you a lunch this morning before I left, it's in the fridge. Do you want me to pick you up again or are you fine getting home on your own?"

Her heart almost bursts at him making her lunch, though she forces herself to focus on his question, contemplating it. She's usually pretty exhausted at the end of a closing shift, even if most of her work doesn't consist of taking customer orders. She'll probably be too tired to do anything sexual, but she now knows that her relationship with Harry stretches beyond the bedroom. It's what she's always wanted, but now that she has it—well, what did she want?

"How about this," Harry interjects her hamster wheel of thinking, "You text me when you get home—I wanna know when you're back safe, anyway—and let me know if you want me to come over or if you wanna be alone, hm? Either one is perfectly fine for me."

Y/N breathes out a sigh of relief (one she didn't even know she was holding) and nods, even if he can't see it.

"Yeah, that sounds perfect. Thank you."

"'Course, bunny. That's what I'm here for, yeah? Make those big decisions for you."

She swallows at the nickname, instantly transporting back to the previous night. His tone has a teasing lilt to it but it still warms her entire body.

"Gonna be good for me today?" he continues and Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, "No touching, remember? Those orgasms are daddy's."

"Mhm," she squeaks out. "No touching."

"Good girl," she swears she can hear his smirk through the phone, "I have to get back to work, but text or call if you need anything, 'kay?"

"Okay. I will."

"Bye, bunny."

The line goes dead, and Y/N immediately smushes her face into her pillow.

. . .

Y/N doesn't have a good day at work.

She's basically floating in on pink fluffy clouds when she begins her shift, a dopey smile wiggling its way onto her lips every time she thinks of last night. There's a dull ache between her thighs and her wrists have slight marks from being tied up, but you'd never be able to identify them if you didn't know they're there. It's like her own dirty little secret, and her entire body heats up when she catches a glance at them when she's piping frosting on cakes or kneading dough.

Her rose-tinted glasses fade away within an hour, though, when she accidentally lets a few loaves of sourdough burn because she's taking care of customers in the front while her coworker is on a break. It's a waste of a few days work and ingredients, and the guilt and disappoint creeps up and gnaws at her.

After that, she messes up on decorating a wedding cake — she's normally aces at making roses, but the buttercream she made splits, and she can't seem to get anything right — but the final straw comes in the form of a father coming in with his bratty kids who press their noses up against the glass displays. Y/N politely asks them to take a step back, that she's more than happy to give them samples of whatever they'd like, but the dad chews her out, calls her incompetent, and leaves Y/N with watery eyes.

Thankfully, she only has 30 minutes left of her shift after that, and she's able to hide in the back and work on peanut butter sandwich cookies by herself. After that, she bids a quiet goodbye to her coworkers, bundles herself up in her jacket, and allows the tears to free fall as she walks the short distance to her car. She just wants to go home, shower off the flour and frosting that she's sure has seeped into her pores, and go to sleep. And really, that's the plan, because Y/N has a bad habit of isolating herself when she's feeling down, until she parks outside of her apartment and glances down at her locked phone to see a message from Harry, received two minutes ago.

I hope you had a great day at work. Let me know if you need anything. If not, can I come see you this weekend? xx

And she's just so... not used to anyone checking up on her after work that she bursts into tears on the spot. Sitting in her idle car, clutching her phone to her ear as she listens to the dial tone, awaiting the sound of Harry's voice on the other side.

"Hello?"

He picks up after three rings and there's a twinge of surprise apparent in his voice, but it quickly melts to concern when he identifies Y/N's sniffles through the receiver.

"What's wrong, baby?" He immediately coos, "Did something happen? Are you alright?"

"I had such a shitty day, Harry," she cries into the phone, haphazardly wiping salty tears from her cheeks.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. What do you need? Do you just need to vent?"

She sniffs and knuckles at her eye. "Would it be too much to ask you to come over?"

There's some shuffling in the background that Y/N can't make out, but Harry's voice resurfaces quickly.

"Of course not. I'm bringing you leftovers for dinner, just sit tight until I get there. I won't be more than 10 minutes."

"Thank you," she peeps out, gazing down at her lap, "And... Harry, is it okay that I don't wanna do anything tonight?"

The background noise stops, a period of quiet overtaking the line. She gnaws at the skin of her bottom lip anxiously until Harry responds not a moment later.

"That will never be a problem with me, Y/N."

Her heart rate slows instantly.

. . .

There aren't many things that give Harry anxiety.

If he had to list them out, it would look something like this: Getting stuck in traffic on the way to the airport, a messy home, when someone says "can I talk to you?", and, on the occasion, when he's had to fire people at work.

Today, he discovers, Y/N calling him crying lands at the very top of that list. The second he heard her teary voice on the line, he threw himself out of bed and pulled a pair of sweats on. He didn't even know if she wanted him there and yet, he knew in that moment that he needed to be close to her, to fuss over and take care of her.

He tells her he'll be there in 10 but it's really just shy of 7 since he speeds there, a to-go container of eggplant parmesan riding in the passengers seat. He doesn't even bother to text her or knock on the door; somehow, he knows she's left it unlocked for him, and when he finds her defeated, crumpled body slouched over on the couch, his heart breaks.

"Oh, my sweet little cry baby," Harry murmurs as he takes large strides over to her, instantly wrapping her up in his arms. "Poor baby, had such a shit day at work."

She nods into the crook of his neck as the tears start up again. His face crumbles and he kisses her hair, stroking his palm over her shoulder blades.

"There you go," he encourages, the sullen sobs from her chest beginning to slow, "That's a good girl. Just breathe. Daddy's got you."

When Y/N is finally done crying, she's embarrassed by the puddle she leaves on Harry's tee-shirt, but he doesn't say a thing. Instead, he scoops her up and fluffs a blanket around her form before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Gonna go heat your dinner up, alright? Pick something good to watch on TV."

Wordlessly, she nods as he hands her the remote. She settles on Jeopardy, which of course makes Harry chuckle when he reappears with a warm plate of homemade food.

"Who knew you were such an old lady?" He teases, setting it in her lap, "Be careful, okay? It's hot, don't want you to burn yourself."

They sit in silence on Y/N's couch, tuned into Jeopardy with Harry occasionally murmuring out wrong answers. It makes them both laugh, and when Y/N finishes her serving, she crawls into his lap with a full belly and an even fuller heart.

Neither of them want to admit it in the moment, but they both know there's nowhere else they'd rather be.

. . .

It's a few weeks more before Harry decides to have an official check-in with Y/N.

"This sounds like I'm receiving a professional review," she grumbles, sitting across one another in Harry's favorite coffee shop. They're both wearing cozy sweaters now that the weather is finally starting to chill, though Y/N still wraps her lips around the straw of an iced matcha. (Harry replied by asking if she was an ice witch.)

"Shush, don't be dramatic," he says, leaning forward and flipping his palm up. He motions for her to place her hand in his, so she does. "I just want to make sure we're both content and happy in this still. If there's anything more I could be doing, I want to know."

"You've gone beyond any of my expectations, you know that," Y/N replies easily as she crosses her legs. "No notes on my end."

"What about in bed?" He asks, lowering his voice to a quiet murmur. "Is there anything you're unhappy with? Anything you want to try?"

She shrugs, thinking back to the many scenes they've had since they began their relationship. She knew from the first night that she trusted Harry implicitly, but that trust only blossomed the deeper they went. She fell into her little space nearly every time they were intimate, even if it was just Harry licking into her at the end of a long day. And while there were soft, slow moments, the intense ones seemed to be more fulfilling for both of them — the evenings when she was gagged and tied up, when he edged her for hours, when she was down on her knees as he fucked her throat and refused to let her swallow his cum until she was drooling down her chin.

She'll never admit this out loud, but she wonders if Harry was somehow handcrafted just for her.

She clears her throat, playfully rolling her eyes at the knowing smirk on Harry's face — one that says I know what you're thinking about, and she pinches the fleshy part of his hand in response. He chuckles and wrinkles his nose at her before taking a sip of his espresso (it came in a ridiculously small cup, and Y/N had to resist making fun of him of it).

"I think we can move on to things that would require more trust," she says carefully, casting her eyes down at the table. Harry makes a faint tsk-ing noise with his mouth.

"Eyes on me, bunny." he instructs softly, "Tell me what you want to try."

Y/N wiggles slightly in her seat, readjusting her position as her thighs clench at the use of his more dominating tone.

"Um... a collar, maybe," she murmurs, pausing to take a sip of her matcha as Harry nods, "I would like if we experimented with anal."

"Have you done that before?"

"Mhm. I like it a lot."

Harry straightens his posture and swallows harshly. She wonders if he decided to have this conversation in public as some sort of test for both of them. They're keeping their voices low enough so only they can hear one another, but Y/N knows it's turning both of them on.

"I have toys and such," she continues when he doesn't reply. He squeezes his eyes shut and she bites her bottom lip, leaning forward over the table. "A few plugs... I have one that's nearly too big, I always have to work it in."

"Enough," he mutters, giving her hand a warning squeeze. "We'll... we'll do that, yeah."

She lets out a giggle and he grumbles, releasing her hand and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Is there anything else you want to do?"

He rolls his lips into his mouth and she can tell that he's mulling over something, though she doesn't know what. They've always been quite open with one another, so for him to be in a state of contemplation feels silly.

"You know you can tell me anything," Y/N murmurs, occupying her newly freed hand with the condensation leaking from her cup. "No judgement."

Harry nods, matching her posture as he places his elbows on the wood table of the booth. "This is an exclusive relationship, right? You're not sleeping with anyone else."

She nods her head. "Of course."

"Neither am I," he says, glancing up at her, "I was wondering if you'd be comfortable with forgoing condoms."

Y/N's eyebrows shoot up. She's never gone bare with anyone before, not even with people she slept with for long periods of time. It's a big ask — they're both aware of that, otherwise he wouldn't be bringing it up in this context.

"Can I ask why?" she questions. The thought of feeling Harry without a barrier is... overwhelming at the very least, but in the best way possible. Her stomach flutters at the thought of it, actually, especially considering the trust she has in him.

"You don't have to say yes if you don't want to or you feel uncomfortable. I just... I was thinking, and I decided that I would really like it. To be with you — inside you — in the closest way possible. Does that make sense?"

It does — it makes a lot of sense, and she's nodding her head in agreement automatically without even giving it much thought. She doesn't need to think about it, but now she's confirmed that her body works on autopilot when it comes to him, giving her away without giving her a chance to overthink it.

"Yes," Y/N answers, affirmatively and with confidence, "I'm— I'm on birth control and I'm clean. I got tested after Todd ended things."

"Seems like that's the only thing he was good for," he says cheekily, and she gently kicks at his foot under the table, "I'm clean, too."

"Okay. Good."

"Very good."

"Do you... are you free for the rest of the day?" she asks, her eyes moving to the window they're sat next to. Rain is falling steadily, fat drops of water painting the glass.

They both know what she's asking. It's a more polite way of saying, do you want to come over and have unprotected sex and maybe choke me and play with my bum, too?

Harry chuckles, leaning across to swipe his thumb over her cheek. She revels in his touch.

"I have to run a few errands, but I can come over this afternoon if you're free. Does that sound okay?"

"Mhm."

"Alright. Let's get you home, then."

. . .

After Harry drops Y/N at home, she falls into her little space.

It's not even on purpose — it's just the context of the conversation they had at the coffee shop. They'd only played once or twice this past week because she had an opening shifts at the bakery (a 3 a.m. wakeup call simply wasn't enough for her to sleep off her soreness from their most recent scene), so they'd resorted to quickies on Harry's lunch hour. On Monday and Wednesday, he sped over to Y/N's just as she was getting home from her own job, bounced her on his cock, gave her two or three orgasms, and came down her throat. While she peed, he ordered her lunch, then wrapped her up in her favorite blankets, tucked her in on the couch, and pressed a kiss to her forehead before heading back to work.

So, given all that, it kind of makes sense. She's craving the sweet, floaty feeling and with thoughts of Harry making her his (in every sense of the word), she slips. She doesn't tell Harry that it happens, instead just toddling up to her bedroom to change out of her clothes and into one of her favorite pale blue lingerie sets, complete with thigh high socks to keep her warm while she waits for him.

But she's not in the right headspace.

And she doesn't know when Harry's coming back, because he didn't say.

She's panicky and teary eyed, missing her dominant, but more than that, she's horny. She's so turned on that she's pacing around the length of her apartment to rub her thighs together and create some type of friction, the arousal leaking from her core creating strings between her legs. And even in her little space, she knows she's not supposed to touch herself, but it's been days since Harry made her cum.

In a sudden decision, she goes back upstairs and rifles through the box underneath her bed. It's filled with a few butt plugs, vibrators, and dildos. Despite the temptation, she avoids the clit stimulation toys and grabs her mid-sized butt plug. It's not for pleasure, she tells herself — it's because it's been ages since she's had someone fuck her back there and she needs proper stretching. If she puts it in now, by the time Harry gets back, she'll be open enough for his cock.

Y/N lays back against the fluffy pillows and blankets on her bed, propping herself up with her plug and a bottle of lube in hand. All of her plugs have pretty little jewels on the end, but this one in particular is her favorite — it has a pink heart on the end with a glass body, and she's so excited to show it off to Harry.

She's done this process many times, both on her own and with a partner. When she reaches between her thighs, she's already drenched, unsurprisingly so, and she uses some of her leaking arousal to press a finger into the tight rim of muscles. She initially gasps, pleasure quickly fizzling up inside of her and making her feel fuzzy and warm.

When she drizzles some lube on to her hole, she gets up to three fingers and by the time it's a comfortable fit, she's craving the plug. With a cautious amount covering the glass orb, she slowly pushes it in, a satisfied moan garbling deep from her chest. It feels so good, a fullness that she's never been able to achieve otherwise, floating her up and up onto cotton candy clouds.

She resists the overwhelming urge to toy with her pussy while she lays there for however long. Every time she shifts her position, she feels the plug move ever so slightly, eliciting a harsh gasp from her throat, her eyes fluttering closed. She's so gone — so, so gone that she doesn't even notice Harry's text, nor does she realize that he's at her house, knocking on her door and, when she doesn't answer, uses the key he has for emergencies to let himself in.

(After Y/N accidentally locked herself out one night at the end of a closing shift and the locksmith didn't come until the following morning, forcing her to stay over at his per his demand, the whole key exchange thing was kind of a given.)

She really, truly doesn't realize it until he walks into her bedroom with frazzled eyes, worried that's somethings wrong, only to be met with his sweet little submissive sprawled out on the bed, a plug wedged between her ass cheeks and her gleaming pussy on display.

"Daddy!" She exclaims, rising to her knees, "When did you get here?"

Harry walks in and sits on the edge of the bed, taking her cheek into his large palm.

"Just did, sweetheart. How are you?"

"Mm, really good," she giggles, wiggling her bottom, "I did something— nothing bad, I promise, I didn't touch myself."

"No?" He murmurs, stroking the soft skin of her cheek. "What'd you do, angel girl?"

"Can I show you?"

He already knows what she did — he saw it the second he stepped through the doorframe, his throat immediately going dry at the sight. But when he notices how blown out her pupils are, the wide eyes and her high-pitched voice, he realizes that she must've gone to her little space somewhere over the past few hours, and he feels like a shitty dominant.

As soon as Harry nods, Y/N flips over and pushes her bum towards him, showcasing the pretty jewel. His hands find the thick of her ass, rubbing gently.

"So pretty, baby doll," he murmurs, and he means it — she looks gorgeous, all stuffed up for him. He taps the plug gently and she whimpers, making him smile. "Did you do this for daddy?"

"Mhmm," she hums, pushing her tummy down to the bed. "Missed you so much, just wanted to get all ready for you."

"I missed you more." Harry says softly, wrapping a hand around her hip and tugging her back up so he can see her face. "Are you feeling little, honey?"

She nods.

"Yeah? When did that happen?"

She thinks for a moment, trying to remember the hours she spent after he dropped her off at home. "I think a little after you left. I didn't know when you were coming back."

"You know daddy will always come back, right?" He asks, brushing some of her hairs out of her face. "And you can always call or text me if you get nervous."

"I don't wanna bother daddy."

"You're never a bother, baby. You're my princess, hm?" He punctuates his sentiment with a kiss to her nose, making a small smile appear on her lips. "You're my good girl and I'll do anything to keep that pretty smile on your face. Okay?"

Y/N peers up at him through her eyelashes. "Really?"

He smiles. "Of course."

She wiggles into his lap and he chuckles, wrapping his arms around her waist. She hugs him tightly as he presses a series of light kisses to the crown of her head.

"Got you a present today." He murmurs into her hair. She glances up at him with wide eyes.

"What'd you get me?"

"Why don't I show you?"

Reluctantly, she moves off of his lap and lays back against the bed, squeezing her thighs at the slight movement of the plug inside her. He jogs downstairs and returns with a dark red box.

"You mentioned wanting one earlier and I couldn't get the image out of my head," he admits, sitting back down next to her and opening the box. Inside, there's a black leather color attached to a silver hooped leash, the word daddy's embroidered in light pink across the material. "What do you think?"

"'S pretty," she mumbles, reaching out to run her fingers over the leather. "For me?"

"Yeah, baby, it's for you."

A grin breaks out across her face and she sits up, baring her neck to him. "Put it on me, please?"

He nods and complies, a pleasant feeling washing over him at her willingness to immediately wear it. He clips the leather around her neck, tugging gently on the chain. A whimper sounds from her lips and he smirks.

"Filthy girl," he mutters, wrapping the chain around his knuckles. "Now, I know you said you didn't play with yourself, but that includes toys. You couldn't wait to put your pretty plug in until daddy came back?"

She swallows. "I... I guess I should've."

"You should have," Harry echoes with a nod. "I know you're desperate for me to own your cute little asshole, but you should've waited, bunny."

"I'm sorry, daddy."

He hums, tugging on the chain to bring her head down to the bed. She gasps at the sudden movement as he maneuvers her hips, raising them so her ass is in the air. He can feel himself thickening in his jeans — she wasn't wearing anything on her lower half except for those god forsaken thigh high socks, and they're going straight to his cock. His limits as a dominant have never been tested as hard as they are with Y/N; normally, he's able to control his powerful facade without a blink, but she, of course, makes it difficult. And she does it all without even trying.

Harry holds in a sigh as he runs his hands over the expanse of her hips, giving them a small squeeze. She's so far under and desperate to be touched that something as minuscule as that has her slowly rocking back into his grasp, yearning for something to take away the persistent ache between her thighs.

"I'm gonna have to punish you," he mumbles, though it's apparent in his tone that he's forcing himself to do this. If he wasn't so hellbent on maintaining a proper dominant-submissive dynamic, he would already have his prick balls deep inside of her. "Nothing too bad since you didn't technically disobey, but you did touch yourself, and I'm sure you got a lot of pleasure from it."

His pants continue to tighten as the image flashes across his brain — his sweet girl spread out on the bed, knees to her chest, two fingers knuckle deep in her ass as she moans and mewls over the prospect of being filled up back there. It's enough to make him shudder, her small and pathetic whimper from below the only thing that takes him out of it.

"It was for you, daddy." she insists, and he notices that her posture has fallen slightly, her face now down in the tufts of her bedding with zipped up thighs to show off the curves of her ass.

"Mm, but you didn't ask, bunny. You know better, don't you?"

A beat. Then, "Yes, daddy. I know better."

He hums and pinches at the crease of her thighs. She's expecting a spanking — if she has to guess, maybe 15 or 20 — but instead, Harry maneuvers back in front of her and tugs on the chain, lifting her head to look at him. His hand finds her chin and he squeezes gently, his eyes roaming over her warm and sweaty face.

Y/N is patiently waiting to be thrown over his knee and a firm slap to come down on her ass. But much to her surprise, he lets the chain go, stands up from the bed, and makes her watch as he undresses. Under ordinary circumstances, this wouldn't be as lusty as it currently is, but the tension is thick between them; Y/N feeling incredibly needy and Harry unable to stay away from her.

"Aren't you gonna punish me?" she asks as he pushes his jeans down, palming himself through his briefs. He nods curtly, avoiding her wide eyes.

"This is your punishment, pet," he murmurs, freeing his cock from the confides of the material, pumping once, "You're going to sit there, on your knees, and watch me jerk myself off. I'm not going to tie you up. You have to practice self control."

Her jaw drops open as he spits into his hand and begins to stroke himself. He's so hard that it hurts a little bit, so he can't imagine how desperate Y/N must be feeling. Her hands are twitching at her sides as she zeroes in on his prick, how thick and long and perfect it is, her stomach stirring as she watches him.

"That's not nice," she mumbles, swallowing harshly, "Please... I-I've been waiting for you all day."

He can see her eyes beginning to well up and his heart cracks just a tad, but it's not enough to get him to stop. His balls are throbbing, the length of his cock wet with spit and pre-cum as he continues his strokes, top to bottom, over and over again.

"Ah, but you didn't, did you?" he says, dribbling down another bit of spit down to his cock, landing at the base. "You put a plug in that pretty ass. You stretched it out, didn't even let daddy get a taste before you did it."

"I'm s-sorry," Y/N blinks the free-flowing tears away, "Please daddy, I've wanted you all day, please—"

"Keep begging."

She's nervous that he'll cum before she even gets a chance to feel him, but little does she know he has no plan to. He knows how to edge himself, and he plans to do just that — he'd be a true masochist to allow himself to cum all over his fist without sinking inside either one of her holes.

"I need it so bad, please. It aches daddy, it hurts, I feel like I'm gonna explode, please—"

"And what do you want?" he presses, giving his balls a squeeze, "You can pick one hole for my cock to fuck and cum in. Which one is it?"

She pouts, her bottom lip jutting out with teary eyes. He wants to reach across the bed and squeeze her cheeks together, pressing kisses all over them, but he restrains. It's part of the punishment, the dominant part of brain reminds him.

"You have five seconds to decide or you get nothing."

"My pussy," Y/N blurts out, and it looks like she maybe even surprised herself with her answer. "Please. I want you to cum in there for the first time."

His cock twitches just at the words and he nods, taking her chain back into his hand. He shuffles back onto the bed and pulls her down, laying her down against the pillows.

"Are you gonna take my cock like a good girl?" He asks, spreading her thighs open and hovering over her.

"Yes, daddy," she answers obediently, licking over her plushy lips, "I— am I allowed to keep the plug in, daddy?"

"Is that what you'd like, baby? All filled up in both of your holes?" He peppers kisses over her chest and up to her neck, and she gasps lightly at he nips the skin. "Tell me now, yes or no."

"Yes," she breathes out, "I want that."

"My dirty girl."

He yanks at the chain again, sitting her up before flipping her onto her tummy. He props her hips up so her ass is high in the air, her face pressed down against the fluffy pillows.

"You know what word to say if it's too much, right?" Harry asks as he pumps his cock, nearly twitching knowing he's so close to being inside of her.

"Yes, daddy— p-please, put it in—"

He certainly doesn't need to be told twice. It's but a moment more before he's pressing his cock into her weepy hole, her wetness making a mess between her soft thighs. They both moan in unison when he enters without a barrier for the first time ever, his mouth dropping open at the sight of the pink jewel fitted between her cheeks. He pumps slowly at first with a hand pressed into her lower back, allowing her to get used to the deep angle, her whimpers from below egging him on.

"What a good little girl," he mutters as he begins to speed up, sliding his hand down to the plug and pulling at it gently. She gasps and mewls, meeting his hips as she rocks back against him. "My little anal whore, yeah? Just love being filled up in both of your pretty holes."

"Yes, daddy!" She squeals beneath him. He already feels her clenching around his cock, her muscles tightening as he continues to pull the plug out in centimeter increments before slowly pushing it back in.

"Tell me when you're gonna cum," he demands through harsh panting, "You know the rules."

She winds her hands back around to each of her ass cheeks, spreading them. He groans out loudly and watches as his prick pumps in and out of her pussy, rings of her wet arousal covering his length.

"Gonna cum, gonna— please!"

Y/N doesn't need anything else for stars to explode between her eyes, and she hardly notices the liquid gushing from her pussy as she comes. Harry withdraws and rubs at her clit, her moans music to his ears as she squirts all over the bed, her hole visibly pulsating.

"Fucking nasty girl," he grunts when she stops, pushing his cock back inside. She gasps at how quickly he goes back to roughly fucking her, her eyes rolling back into her head at the overstimulation and fullness.

"I want your cum," she pants out, "Fill me up daddy, please, I need it."

"I know, bunny, daddy's gonna give it to you," he replies through a tight jaw, burying his cock deep inside her pussy. His balls are throbbing at the tightness of her hole, especially with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She's drooling onto the bedsheets, a wet mess beneath him covered in squirt and sweat with a leather collar snapped around her neck — he's never seen anything more beautiful, and the vision itself has him at his end.

"Fuck— I'm fuckin' coming, baby," he groans, pumping warm ropes deep into her pussy. She moans all the way through, immediately obsessed with the way it feels. She can feel his prick throbbing inside of her as he releases and it's the most delicious sensation.

"That's my girl," Harry mutters as he slowly pulls his cock out, groaning to himself at the sight of her dripping pussy. "Push out for me, baby, let me see."

She does as she's told, using the little strength left in her muscles as she pushes out the thick cum he pumped into her. It's the first time either of them have done this, but it's apparent that it won't be the last. She whimpers at the sensation, wishing she could see what it looks like, but Harry's already using two fingers to push it back in. It's not enough to make her cum again — she thinks she's finally too sensitive for another orgasm to crawl up her body — but it still feels so good, knowing he wants to keep his load deep inside.

When he's finally done, he works slowly to remove the collar from her neck and lower her down to her stomach.

"You okay?" He asks softly. She hums against the fluff of her bed and he's not sure if it's a yes or a no. "I'm gonna take your plug out, okay? Can you tell me if that's alright?"

She tilts her head to the side and murmurs out an mhm, so he makes quick work to gently remove the butt plug from her hole. He bites his lip at the visual, placing the toy on her nightstand to wash later.

"Bath time, angel girl," Harry murmurs, rubbing his palm up her back. "Daddy will clean you up."

She nods and he smiles gently, though he knows her brain is melted beyond belief. He tugs her body up and helps guide her to the bathroom on shaky legs, placing her on the toilet to do her regular post-sex pee. As usual, he looks away, but he knows this time will be a bit longer since the scene was messier. As she sits there, he fills the bathtub up with warm water and her favorite bubblebath.

When they lower into the water together, her muscles feel like jelly. He knows it's been a long day for her so he's not surprised at her quietness as he lathers body wash over her skin. Sometimes she slips out of her little space in the bath or when he's feeding her after a scene, but he expects her to maintain a near-silent demeanor from the intensity of the past few hours.

He helps her out and wraps her up in a fluffy towel, drying her skin off as she smiles softly at him. He gives her a granola bar to munch on as he changes the sheets, and when they're finally in bed together, exhausted from the day, he swears he hears her say the faintest words.

Then, once more, they fall from her lips: "I love you."

697 notes · View notes

wolfish-trickster · 29 days

Text

I would've chosen if I could've

Gojo x fem!reader, Geto x fem!reader

Part 3

Previous part

Word count: 3.2K

Summary: after a talk with Geto Gojo realizes few things and even though he plans on doing better he decides to give both himself and you a little break before trying to ask for forgiveness. Geto however has a plan of his own.

Warnings: bad grammar (possibly), typos, angst, very little comfort

Taglist: @ilovebattinson @catobsessedlady @tqd4455 @nanao4k

@abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz

By the time their little "therapy" ended the sky outside changed from clear blue to cloudy gray. One would think rain will fall any minute now. The only thing that fell however was the air preassure.

Since Gojo was always one of the sensitive ones he quickly fell asleep. Geto offered him his big bed to take a nap in but Gojo proclaimed "he deserved to sleep on a floor for what he did". They settled on a compromise in a form of a couch. As Gojo was snoring away, more mentally tired than physically, Geto got into thinking. His entire conversation with his best friend took a mental toll on him too.

Thinking back to his relationship with you, he never really spotted any problems. The amount of times Geto spaced out while Gojo gushed about you at the begining of the relationship made it seem like he would set the world on fire if you as much as hinted you felt a little cold. He just couldn't wrap his head around how Gojo could fuck all of that up in the span of one day. Or several years. Has he been like this since the begining? When did Gojo start lying about you being too busy to hang out with him and Shoko? Was there a breaking point for Gojo? Did you do something that made him realize he just isn't the type for serious relationships?

For the first time in his life Geto Suguru couldn't answer any of these questions about his best friend.

Sun began to set. First raindrops hit the window. Soon a soft rain turned into a heavy storm. And yet even that couldn't wake Gojo up. 'He must be so exhausted,' Geto thought as he pulled a thin blanket over his sleeping figure. Even unconscious Gojo looked hurt. Geto was as well. Both from what happened and what he's about to do.

It has been a tough day on your mentality. After packing majority of your clothes into your favourite backpack you ran out the apartment with no real plan in mind. Nowhere to go either. You roamed the city for hours until you saw a short haired brunette girl smoking in the distance. After running up to her it turned out to not be Shoko to your disapointment. But it wasn't pointless. Noticing the girl made you remember Gojo and Geto's friend.

You walked to her place as if on autopilot, letting your muscle memory carry you. What would you say once you come to her door? She was the one to help you get together with Gojo in the first place. Did she know something like this would happen? She has known him for as long as Geto did.

The thought of Geto made you shiver. If it wasn't for him none of this would've happened! You were sure he was just enjoying pulling Gojo away from you, keeping him to himself and himself only. Did he ever planned on making you and Gojo break up? If so, he succeeded masterfully. You wondered if Gojo was sad even a little bit about you leaving, and if so if he was calling Geto about it, telling him he needs more time without him. You smiled. It would be nice if that was happening. Such a shame you won't find out.

Soon you arrived at a small house with old dark brown door and a worn out mat. The only thing that changed from your last visit was one of the windows at the front. Its glass was new. At the begining of your and Gojo's relationship Shoko and Geto wanted to have a small sleepover to get to know you better. Shoko was really warm and welcoming, so was Geto, even though in a lesser extent. He didn't touch you in any way, no hug nor hand shake, and when it came to laying out sleeping bags in the living room he placed his as far away from you as possible. Gojo then started teasing him and after all testosteron fully kicked in they ended up breaking one of the windows. You panicked and quickly looked over at Shoko. She just lit a cigarette and told you you'd get used to it.

You smiled. It was a nice memory. Back then when everything was simpler and somehow calmer. Still, one thing was weird to you. How Geto was pulling away from you since the begining.

You shook your head. First he started occupying your relationship and now your thoughts? No fucking way. He doesn't get to win. (A/N if you understood the reference you get a cookie 😉)

Your hand hovered a little above the old wood of Shoko's door but in the end decided to softly knock. You heard shuffling behind the door before surprised Shoko opened it, definitelly expecting someone else instead of you. She was dressed casually in jeans and some basic T-shirt, but you could tell she was trying to make herself look a little nicer than just 'casual'.

"Hi, what happened?" she asked and reached out to caress your cheek. You must've looked horrible.

You sighed and as best as you could explained the gist of what happened. Somehow you could do so in just three sentences and no crying. Did you already run out of all your tears?

She accepted you into her house and made you some calming lavender tea. "You can sleep over if you want," she said.

"Thank you. And sorry for bothering, I just... I had no other place to go," you admitted and sipped on the purple steamkng bevarage. You never had a lavender tea. Tasted like a hug in a mug. Something you desperately needed in these tough times.

"Don't worry about it," she rubbed your back comfortingly, "that's what friends are for."

You smiled at her and leaned into her hand. "You don't have to stay and take care of me. You were just about to go out, right?" You gestured at her face half covered in make up. Realizing you must've ruined her most-likely date made you feel even worse about yourself.

Shoko just waved her hand. "It was just a movie thing with Geto. It's fine tho, you need me more now."

She mentioned two things that broke you: Geto and you being put above all else. You collapsed into her arms and cried out bunch of apologies and words about ruining her chance at finding a relationship for herself. You weren't fond of Geto at all right now, but you knew Shoko and how single and alone she must've felt with her two male friends being always away.

Now that you think about it, you were surprised she even went above and beyond to help you. They were three before. Then came you and took Gojo away. And then Gojo took Geto away from her too. You felt sick. She was all alone because of you.

You must've said all of this out loud tho, because Shoko pulled you from a tight hug to an arm's length away from her and made you look into her eyes. "Don't. Just don't. You didn't make anyone leave me. Me being alone isn't your fault. If anything I should be thanking you. Those two have been hogging my free time for a long time and with them finally focusing on other things I had more time to study and got my grades from 'barely passing' to 'top of the class'. Besides, I was always more into femboys," she winked which made you laugh. Such a shame not everyone was like Shoko. She was truly a ride or die kind of girl.

You hugged her as tight as you could and just held her. Feeling another body's warmth brought you calmness, no matter who it belonged to.

Unfortunately, not every good thing lasts forever. And neither did this moment.

Shoko's phone vibrated. She pulled it put of her backpocket and looked at it. "Shoot, I almost forgot. Would you mind if I-?" she pointed at her phone with Geto's contact shining brightly on her screen.

You shook your head, even though seeing Geto's relaxed smile in that contact made your chest hurt. That bastard doesn't even know what he did.

Shoko smiled and walked into her bedroom to make the call. You stayed sitting her kitchen, sipping on your tea, looking around. There were little peaces of paper with some medical notes written on it taped on random places all around the place. You figured it must be her way of studying.

After a while she came back from her bedroom and sat across from you. "Gojo's at Geto's."

"Of course he is," you scoffed and went in to take a sip from your tea only to realize you've drank it all.

Shoko sighed. "Geto told me he'll speak with him," you rolled ypur eyes, "and quote 'take care, both of you'," she added.

You looked back at her surprised. "He what?"

Shoko smirked. "Not even gonna ask about your beloved boyfriend?"

You frowned. "Shoko, please stop."

"Sorry, I just wanted to lighten up the mood."

"And he's an ex."

Shoko raised her eyeybrows. "So, it's official now?"

"Yeah. I mean, packing your things and leaving couldn't be taken as anything else, right?"

It felt weird saying that. Ex boyfriend. You've had few in the past, but most of them were in your youth while you were still figuring out your place in the world. To be honest, you were still figuring it out but now you were a little closer to finding it out than before. You thought you would be able to find out completely with Gojo by your side. He wanted someone else by his though...

"Right," she answered.

The rest of the day was pretty calm. You talked, cooked something together, and then watched the rain drops race on a window. It felt nice. Not thinking about what was happening in your life.

As the night time approached so did tiredness. The entire day did its number on your psyche and you desperately needed to sleep it off. Shoko offered you her bed, making up an excuse she needs to study fro her upcoming exams, but you weren't having it.

"Listen girl, if you really want me to stay in my bed we can be in there together and cuddle," Shoko smirked as she helped you prepare the couch for the night.

"You snore so no thanks."

She stuck out her tongue at you and you giggled. It felt like having an older sister.

You both said goodnight and went off to sleep, her in her bed and you on her couch. You have slept on many couches but Shoko's was by far the softest. So warm, so comfy. You were minutes away from falling completely asleep when you heard a small ding, startling you wide awake.

It came from the kitchen. What dinging thing did Shoko have in the kitchen?

You turned on your side, thinking it was just a one time thing. Right as this thought bloomed in your head you heard two more dings.

Annoyed you dragged yourself to your feet and using your phone's flashlight tiptoed into the kitchen.

The noise source wasn't even trying to hide. Shoko's phone was shining like a lighthouse right under a window, where you both had your droplet race. You picked it up just as its screen turned black. You wouldn't want to read the messages as to not invade Shoko's privacy. Even if the curiosity was stronger.

Even though... it could be something from her school, right? It wouldn't hurt just to check. You'll bring it to her right after. Yeah, that's what you'll do!

You turned the phone on and you nearly puked. There was a notification about 3 new messages from Geto Suguru.

Do you want to know?

Yes you do.

You unlock the screen and went straight into messages.

hi, i just wanted to tell you i had a talk w/satoru and he's doing rly bad. he has no idea what he wants in life, but he also swore he never wanted to hurt Y/N. he also promised to become better and have a talk with her, so dont be surprised if he shows up at yours tmrw

oh and btw how is she doing

You stared at the phone. Should you reply? Should you just pretend you saw nothing and go back to sleep? As if you'd fall asleep after that. As horrible as it sounded you were kinda glad Gojo was doing bad. It showed he cared about you. And Geto saying he's willing to change for you? One part of you was glad things would go to normal. And the other one was screaming at you to notice the next sentence of Geto's message. Gojo has no idea what he wants in life. That little fact could be interpreted in so many ways.

Before you could think of any the phone in your hand dinged again. A new message.

y are you silent? i can see you reading this

Oh crap, you forgot he could see if the reciever read the message or not.

It was time to act. Pretend to be Shoko and find out stuff they would never tell you or admit you're you and risk losing the spicy information you could pull out of Geto.

As much as you hated to admit it Geto was really important for you right now.

"I'm so sorry Shoko," you whispered as you typed away.

I was just thinking, that's all. What exactly did Satoru tell you?

promise you won't tell Y/N? it would hurt her even more

Geto Suguru... cares about you?

Okay, I won't tell.

good, good. well basically he told me he has no idea what to do. that he doesnt want to choose any of us in fear of losing the one he doesnt choose. worst thing tho is i think he isnt really ready to be in a relationship. said he felt trapped but also not. idunno, it was messy

oh and did you know he lied all those times? everytime we invited both of them he said Y/N was too busy to attend, he told me he just wanted to feel like old times again.

They what? Invited you? You ahve to think fast. If you weren't you but Shoko, what would you reply?

Damn.

Yup, the only sensible thing coming to mind.

It worked though.

yeah, my thoughts exactly. how is she doing by the way?

You thought for a while. Then you began typing.

She's better. I made her a tea, talked with her, had fun.

okay, thats good

He wasn't replying for a while. You thought this was the end of it but then another message popped up.

i'm kinda surprised youre not saying anything

Check the clock mister, I'm tired.

i didnt mean that

Then what did you mean?

cheering me on in pursuit of Y/N

What the actual? Pursuit of you? In what way?

Your legs couldn't take it anymore so you sat down on the cold kitchen floor, head resting against one of the table legs. After your heartbeat slowed down a little you were ready to find out more.

As I said, too tired.

so all it took for you to stop teasing me about my crush was being too tired? where was this info three years ago?

Crush? Your fingers began to shake. This can't be. Geto Suguru, the source of your anxiety, the reason for your break up, the best friend of your now ex boyfriend has had a crush on you this entire time? And Shoko was teasing him because of this?

You have to keep a calm mind.

I don't think it's a good idea to act out right now.

yeah, no shit

what i said still stands tho

satoru is my best friend. and even if the girl that has been haunting my dreams the past few years is single now i cant possibly do it to him

You said it yourself, didn't you? Satoru doesn't know what he wants in life. What if he didn't want Y/N either?

You had to play these cards in order to find out more. More about Geto's crush, more about what Gojo really told Geto.

after what i heard today i think theres a possibility for that. but look, this is the first real relationship he has. that boy has been sheltered half of his life. tomorrow he will come to yours and have a chat with Y/N. the rest is up to her.

And what if she chooses to get back together with him? It would break your heart.

wouldn't be for the first time.

besides, as much as id want satoru to be single for a while to figure out his shit on his own i cant really wish Y/N told him to gtfo. at the begining she looked so happy

Geto...

yeah

You waited for a while but no more words came from Geto's end. The conversation died and you were even more confused than before.

Morning came. A sleepless night now behind you, Shoko's phone still in your hands and bunch of questions in our head. As well as anxiety.

What will you tell Shoko? Sorry girl, your phone wouldn't shut up so I impersonated you and texted with the best friend of y ex and also the reason why he's my ex in the first place and by the way when did you want to tell me he has had a crush on my and that's why he was acting all hot'n'cold with me ever since we met?

Even more, will Gojo really come and try to win your trust again? Before yoi read Geto's messages you would be even willing to try, but after? You weren't sure anymore. Especially after one specific sentence that kept you up all night. 'After what I heard today I think there's a real possibility of that.'

Shoko's bedroom door creaked open and in came a half asleep Shoko. Blindly filling up the tea kettle she turned to you. "Do you want some coffee?"

"No thanks," you said and placed the phone on the table infront of you. This will be bad. "Hey, Shokoy I have to tell you somethi-"

You were interrupted by loud knocking on the front door.

Both you and Shoko looked at the door than at eachother. Rubbing her eyes she walked over there and looked through the peep hole. "It's Gojo. Do you want me to let him in?"

You hesitated. Adrenalin was running high in your system, anxiety was clawing at your chest like never before.

And against all your better judgement you nodded.

A/N: i'm so sorry for ending it like this but it's really fucking late and i only have time at night to be creative... i don't know when the next chapter/chapters (i have at least three more planned) will come out but i promise i will try my best to post them by the time next monday comes. See ya ✌️

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo satoru angst #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk geto #jjk geto suguru #geto angst #geto suguru angst

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a-soft-hornytiny · 1 year

Text

Lecture.

Summary: Your roommate Mingi decides to tease you and you take your revenge.

Word count: 2.8k+

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Mingi x female!reader

Warnings: blow job, hand job, teasing, cum, cum swallowing, oral, dirty talk, bit of voyeurism ig (Let me know if I missed something) be careful while reading.

Notes: this has been chilling in my ideas for a looooong time. I think one of my moots made me write this down, sadly don’t remember who. And hello~ im kinda back?

Taglist: after the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

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Unfortunately you had started studying right when covid hit and now you were stuck in this university dorm with your hot but annoying roommate Mingi 24/7. You shouldn’t really be complaining, you knew that. He took care of his stuff, did his chores and cleaned after himself. Yes he was a bit loud sometimes when he was recording some of his rap tracks in his room but that was not why you were annoyed.

You were annoyed because you didn’t know if he knew what he was doing when he walked out of the bathroom. Just a towel around his waist. Little water drops running down his chest.

And he decided to always shower right when you had an online lecture.

You couldn’t escape it either since the living room table was the only place in the dorm where the internet was good enough to survive a whole hour and a half lecture. And the bathroom door led to the living room, which led to his room.

Of course he didn’t do anything wrong in particular but how were you supposed to concentrate on “The basics of marine anatomy” when you had “The basics of human anatomy” walking right in front of you.

But you couldn’t say anything until you figured out if he was doing it on purpose or if his extremely innocent image was real. But you weren’t sure how.

Your first attempt was lying about when your lectures were. You told him they were earlier than usual and waited for him to come out of his room, but he didn’t. He went to shower at the same time as usual, which meant it still collided with your schedule. You couldn’t actually skip a lecture just to prove that your roommate wanted to make you horny.

And just as you were nearly convinced that he just had a weird daily schedule of showering at exactly 9:15am, your schedule changed and your lecture was delayed from 9am to 11am. And suddenly he started going to the bathroom at 11:15am.

There was no way that was a coincidence.

And with that little theory you decided to jump into the cold water and the next time he came out of the bathroom, hot as always, you bluntly stared him down.

“Like what you see?” He raised one eyebrow while walking into the kitchen, not even sparing you a glance. But you could swear that you saw him smirk.

You didn’t answer. You let your eyes wander from his short pink hair, which he was sloppily drying off with a towel, to his defined shoulders over his long torso and his slightly visible abs.

“I think you should get back to your lecture or your professor will wonder what makes you drool.” He said while picking up an apple from the counter and walking over to his room. Before he closed his door he gave you a quick wink. And that was all the proof you needed. He was doing it on purpose.

And you were gonna get back at him.

Shortly after your first lesson ended you started creating your masterplan. Fight fire with fire they say.

Not only did he know about your schedule but you also knew about his. So right before his evening lecture you decided to take your best underwear and run to the bathroom. You waited a few minutes until you heard him settle down at the living room table before you started your shower.

oh he will regret this you thought while stepping out of the shower and putting on a very revealing bra and fitting panties. You dried yourself off just enough to not make a mess and took a step towards the door. While grabbing the handle you realized how nervous you were. But you wanted him to feel the consequences of his actions and opened the door.

Mingi had just finished a sentence when the bathroom door opened. He thought nothing of it at first but when he saw skin in the corner of his eye he couldn’t help but look up. And there you were.

You tried not to look at him directly while walking to the kitchen sink to get a glass of water but you could feel him staring. The feeling of being scanned from top to bottom gave you goosebumps. Was that how he felt when you stared at him?

Just as you finished your glass of water, you turned around. You had expected him to be subtle. To glance at you from time to time. But you were wrong. So wrong. He had turned towards you on his chair, his legs were spread and his eyes were completely fixated on you.

“Like what you see?” You imitated him while walking to the living room. “I think you should get back to your lecture before your prof-“

“My camera is off and I’m muted.” He interrupted you with a huge smile on his face. But it wasn’t a happy smile, it was a dirty one.

You felt shivers run down your spine. Fuck. It felt like he was a predator and you were his prey. Suddenly you could feel every single centimeter of your exposed skin. And it was burning. His hands were resting on the inside of his thighs. You couldn’t do anything against it when your eyes decided to lock on his crotch. An all too familiar tickling feeling appeared in your stomach as you imagined what may be lying underneath his pants. But he noticed.

“Well you must be down bad for me if you put so much effort in just to get my attention.” You answered while leaning on the table right across from him, giving him a good view of your cleavage. He gulped. Success.

“You could’ve told me instead Mingi, honey. Now we’ve wasted so much precious time.” You grinned at him before turning around and slowly, really slowly walking towards your room. You could feel his eyes on your curves as they moved from side to side.

But before you even realized it, you heard the sound of a chair and felt arms wrap around your waist. You inhaled sharply as he pressed his body against yours. You couldn’t see him but he rested his head on your shoulder and whispered against your neck.

“Oh Y/n, please stay with me a little longer… My lecture is getting boring.” He exhaled against your ear and hugged you even closer. You could feel his desire for you… and you could feel his.. oh my god.

You didn’t even realize that you had held your breath until he let go of you and walked back to the living room table. He was giving you a choice. You could either go to your room, get dressed and forget what happened or you could turn around, possibly risking your perfectly platonic relationship and see what happens next. And both sides had their perks. On one hand you were still burning in embarrassment and wanted to hide in your room for the next week or so. But on the other hand you could feel the little puddle in your panties and the excitement in your bones.

You decided to turn around.

He didn’t say anything while you walked towards him, only giving you a small smile. But it seemed genuine. He seemed genuinely relieved that you decided to turn around. You wanted to sit on his lap but he stopped you.

“Wait a bit, I have to present some of my assignments results soon and I have to turn my camera on for that.” He scratched the back of his head, sorry on one side and upset on the other. He pointed to the chair next to him instead.

It was good that it was midsummer, otherwise you would’ve been cold. But this way it was fine. You sat down next to him, still feeling his eyes on you.

“Mister Song, please present your results now.” You heard the voice of his professor through his laptop. Mingi then unmuted and turned his camera on. While he started talking you tried to take in every detail of his flawless face. He had really sharp features which were a big contrast to his soft image. Your eyes scanned his body as he seemed to be uncomfortable with something. And then your eyes landed on his crotch again.

There was not much left to imagination anymore. You could clearly see the outline of his hard dick in his pants. And he was squirming, obviously bothered by the tightness of his pants. A quick picture rushed through your mind. No, you can’t do that. Or maybe you could? You felt your cheeks heat up as the image got clear in your head. Fuck it. You had nothing to lose.

Without much hesitation you slipped off your chair and kneeled down under the table. Right in front of him. You could see his eyes widen as your hands fiddled with his belt. He started stuttering and his ears turned red.

“And that's when I found a study proclaiming th-that-“ he cleared his throat and sat up straight. You couldn’t help but chuckle slightly as you finally managed to open his pants and pull out the massive tent in his underwear. Mingi cleared his throat again before he continued talking. There was already a wet patch at the top of his dick showing how aroused he actually was and you couldn’t help but touch it softly.

He sharply inhaled, interrupting himself mid sentence. “Is everything alright Mister Song?” His professor asked, making him blush profusely. “Yes sir, I’m good” he answered, his voice still shaking. The vibrations of his deep voice sent shivers down your spine as he continued to elaborate on his studies.

You loved the power you had in this moment. His whole body reacted to everything you did, even if it was just a nervous rush of his eyes. Time to make it worse.

You grabbed his underwear and slowly pulled it down until his cock sprung free. You watched it move as your mouth filled with saliva. Fuck he was huge. The tip of his dick was slightly wet and it stood tall. You wanted to suck him off so bad. And as you were kneeling in front of him you realized that you wanted to do this for a long time.

But as he did for you, you wanted to give him a choice. When he had a short break in talking you looked at him with big question marks in your eyes, your mouth hovering over his dick by just an inch. His eyes were big and a bit puffy as he looked down but he didn’t answer. All that he did was softly taking the back of your head in his right hand and pushing you closer.

That was a yes.

Without any hesitation you opened your mouth widely, allowing him to guide his dick into your mouth. Then he let go.

He tasted amazing. You closed your mouth around his tip and let your tongue run over it a few times. Goosebumps formed on his whole body but you decided not to move. Until he started talking again.

Right when he opened his mouth to start another sentence you wrapped one hand around the shaft of his dick and let your head slide down. You could take about half of him without having to deepthoat, the other half was in your hand. He let out a quiet but pathetic moan before collecting himself and starting anew.

You looked up at him with a mischievous light in your eyes as you started to move your head up and down in a steady rhythm. You hum slightly, the vibration intensifying his pleasure. His breath was heavy but he managed to stay still and keep talking. You moved your hand with your mouth to feel his whole length.

In the corner of your eyes you could see that his thighs were slightly shaking as you stopped and gently licked his tip again. You felt how much he held himself back. He wanted to buckle up his hips, he wanted to moan your name and grab your head to push you deeper. But that had to wait.

“To conclude, my research successfully proved the given statement.” His voice was getting lower and lower and his eyes darkened as his professor thanked him and called on the next in line. You never had someone shut his laptop so fast. You stopped.

“But Mingi, your lecture still goes on for half an hour..” you wanted to protest but he had already pushed the table back to get a better sight of you.

“Who fucking cares.” He said before grabbing your head and pushing you closer. You immediately opened your mouth, willing to take him as deep as he wanted. You felt his dick enter your mouth and touch the back of your throat. You took a deep breath through your nose before you pushed your head down further, taking him completely.

Mingi let out a deep growly moan and looked at you in disbelief. “One one ever took me completely..” he groaned before throwing his head back. “Fuck.”

You felt high. The adrenaline rushed through your veins as you felt his pre-cum leak down your throat. You were good at this. You knew that. His hand was buried in your hair but he didn’t put any pressure on it, he let you do your thing. And you did your thing.

After giving yourself a few seconds to adjust, you started to move your tongue around his base while slowly picking up speed. His moans were angelic. He clearly wasn’t afraid of being loud and it was obvious that he didn’t care what people think. The walls were thin.

“God Y/n why did you never tell me how good you are at this?” He asked, completely out of breath. You couldn’t answer, still having his pulsating cock inside of your mouth. But he didn’t need an answer. All he needed was your wet mouth around his dick.

“This is the exact outcome I had hoped for.” He chuckled, taking a deep breath after. “Fuck I’m already close.” He whispered as his grip in your hands got stronger. A feeling of superiority overcame you as you felt his dick twitch. Then you slid back, continuing your movements with your hands but giving him a dirty smirk.

“If I had known you wanted me to do this, I would’ve done it way earlier..” you grinned, making him moan. “Such a big dick but not brave enough to make a proper move on me.” You were teasing him. You wanted him to feel what you felt. Even though you knew there may be consequences for that.

He let out a small whine. “I’ll return the favor I swear but please don’t let me wait much longer.”

You chuckled and let some salvia drop on his tip before taking him again. You could taste the salt on your tongue. A clear indicator that he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Cum for me handsome..” you whispered under your breath before picking up speed again. His moans got louder, more frequent as his hips began to shake. His right hand was still caught up in your hair but his left hand was grabbing the chair. And he was squeezing the wood so hard that if you didn’t know any better you would think it was about to burst.

“Please Y/n, let me fill you up..” he groaned, getting closer to his high with every little movement of your tongue. _With pleasure_ you thought carefully sucking on his tip.

He started shaking uncontrollably, his head thrown back. “Fuck fuck fuck!” He moaned as his cum started filling your mouth. It tasted amazing and you gladly gulped down every drop of it, still moving slowly to help him ride out his orgasm. His whole body was in high tension as you swallowed the last drop of his cum and let go of him.

His body immediately collapsed on the chair and his breathing started to get more and more regular. You didn’t move. Still kneeling in front of him.

When he finally opened his eyes he gave you a dark smile.

“I think we should move this into your bedroom”

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Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez story #ateez smut #smut #kpop smut #kpop imagines #ateez mingi #song mingi smut #song mingi #mingi #mingi x reader #female!reader #🔥

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neonghostlights · 11 months

Note

I saw you got your first request! That’s so sweet and lovely I love your writing :)

I was wondering if maybe I could request something pretty please? Angstyyyy and fluff

what if eddie has substance abuse problems like rockstar!eddie or Eddie needed something to cope with the events of s4 but it’s wrecking him and your relationship and you love him and have tried to help him but is basically like it’s me or the drugs

My second request ever! Thank you so much (: I went with Eddie coping after the events of season four and tried to leave it open to him using either drugs or alcohol. I've watched someone struggle with addiction before so I based it a little off of that.

Warnings: Substance Abuse, Addiction, Rehab, Established Relationship, Intervention, Angst, Fighting, Sad Uncle Wayne, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, 18+ only

Wordcount: 2.2k

Pick And Choose

It started with him being late to everything and then he stopped showing up completely. Phone calls became few and far between. He didn’t even play DnD anymore. Then it was the fighting, the lying, and the stealing.

It all came to a head last weekend when you drove around town looking for Eddie, who had fought with Wayne over his behavior and disappeared without a trace. Steve eventually found him passed out in someone's basement at a party with no memory of how he got there. The fight that took place between the two of you the next morning was the worst you had ever gotten into.

You hadn’t talked to him since then. A week of complete silence on your part. Eddie had called you a few times and left you some unintelligible voicemails that you didn’t respond to.

You had watched Eddie slowly wither into himself. At first, you didn’t allow yourself to believe what you were seeing. The happy and healthy man you knew was decaying right in front of you.

The last six months had been hard on Eddie. From watching Chrissy die, to almost dying in the upside down and then waking up to a town that wanted to lock him away forever.

The charges were dropped and the physical wounds healed but Eddie still wasn’t okay. You knew it, Wayne knew it and your friends knew it too.

You made excuses for Eddie whenever Dustin, Mike or Lucas wanted to see him and he wasn’t answering the phone. But they were starting to pick up that something was wrong. They were smart kids and you couldn’t lie to them forever.

Wayne opened the trailer door for you when you knocked, letting you in silently. He nodded his head towards Eddie’s room, the new one since the old trailer had been destroyed.

“Has he been up at all today?” You asked quietly, not wanting to risk Eddie knowing you were there yet.

Wayne shook his head with a pained look on his face.

You let out a deep sigh, setting your things on the counter.

“Maybe we should call that Harrington boy up here too. Just in case he tries to fight,” Wayne suggested.

You thought for a second. Steve was able to be some of a voice of reason when Eddie went too far but there had also been times when Steve sported a black eye after Eddie lashed out. Steve had already been hit far too many times over the years and had such extreme headaches that you didn't want to risk it.

“I-I think we should just do it. Just us. I don’t want him to feel cornered,” you finally said. “If it goes too far we’ll back off and try again another day.” The thought of having another day with Eddie was wishful. You woke up everyday terrified that you would get a phone call informing you of the inevitable. He could only go on this way for so long.

You grabbed the pamphlets out of your bag and handed one to Wayne. He stared down at it, not opening or reading it, just observing.

A loud bump and crash could be heard coming from Eddie’s room. You looked at Wayne who was still staring at the pamphlet. It was show time.

You sat down on the couch alone. “Wayne?” You asked, breaking him out of his trance.

The man slowly sank down in the recliner across from you.

Eddie’s bedroom door crashed open, hitting the wall and surely adding to the dent that was already there. You watched as he stumbled into the kitchen, sweatpants and t-shirt baggy on his thinning form. When he noticed you on the couch he paused suddenly, swaying slightly.

“What are you doing here?” He croaked, eyes squinted like he couldn’t see you.

“I’m here to talk,” you said, keeping your voice light.

“Come sit down with us, Eddie,” Wayne spoke up, craning his neck to turn and look at his nephew. You could see the slight wince when he took in Eddie’s shape.

“Okay?” Eddie said, dropping down on the couch beside you.

Up close you could see just how bad he had gotten in a week. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed red. His hair hung in lifeless strands surrounding his face. His cheeks were hollow and pale. You just wanted to wrap him up in your arms and heal him with everything you had. But you weren’t a superhero. You didn’t have the powers to fix this.

Eddie looked away when he noticed the look on your face.

“What’s up?” He asked, like this was some sort of friendly neighborhood chit chat. At least he was in a good mood for now.

You took a shaky breath. “I love you, Eddie.”

His eyes softened slightly at this. “ If this is about our fight I don’t really want to talk about it right now,” he said, gesturing towards his uncle who sat with a stoic look on his face.

“We need to talk about it though. I’m worried about you,” you said.

Eddie let out a humorless chuckle. He leaned his head up against the back of the couch. “I’m fine. We’re fine. Everyone is fine,” he muttered.

“No. Everyone is not fine. I think you should go get some help,” you informed him in a soft voice.

Eddie’s head snapped up to look at you. “If you’re here because you think you can tell me what to do then you can just leave. I don’t want you here anyways.” His mood changed in a heartbeat when he was like this. The second he felt like he was being criticized he snapped.

You swallowed, trying to fight the harsh sting of his words. You had to remind yourself it wasn’t him talking. He didn’t mean it.

Eddie used to be so full of life. He never would have spoken to you like that before this. Sometimes you wished you could crawl into a time machine just so you can have old Eddie comfort you the way you needed. You’d give anything to hear him tell you everything would be okay again.

You pulled the pamphlet out from under your leg and handed it to him with a shaking hand. “Um, I got you a bed here. They’re ready to take you tonight if you’ll go.”

Eddie snatched the papers out of your hand and ripped them in half without even looking at them. He stood up now, his form trembling with the effort. You wanted to ask him when the last time he ate or drank anything was but now wasn’t the time.

He pointed a finger into your face. “You think you can just show up here after abandoning me for a week and tell me what to do. You just think you are so goddamn perfect all the time. Everything would be fine if you would just shut up and let me do what I want to do.”

You clenched your hands into tight fists, fighting the anger and hurt. The counselor at the facility had told you this might happen. It was very important not to engage in this behavior.

“Eddie,” you said softly, a stark contrast to the tone he had used to speak to you. “We can’t keep doing this. You have to choose either me or the way you’re living. You can’t have both. I can’t sit here and watch you die.” You started to cry then at the thought of this killing him. You turned your head, quickly wiping the tears off of your cheeks.

You could hear Eddie take a trembling breath. “If that’s what you want then go. Get the hell out,” he demanded.

You looked up to him to see his eyes wide, nostrils flared and hands balled up at his side. You weren’t going to get through to him. You weren’t going to be able to save Eddie like you thought.

You stood slowly, giving him the chance to change his mind. He just stood there, staring at you as you went to walk out of his life for good.

A few sniffles had you pausing your journey to the front door. You turned to see Wayne with his head in his hand and his shoulders shaking violently. You had been so caught up in talking to Eddie that you had forgotten that he was even there.

Eddie’s expression crumbled as he watched his uncle sob.

“Wayne,” he stammered, placing a hand on his uncle's shoulder. “Why are you crying?”

“Because I can’t do it anymore, Eddie. I can’t sit here and watch you end up just like your father.”

Eddie winced like he had been struck. “But I’m not like him.”

Wayne looked up at him with red swollen eyes. “You are though. This is exactly like he was. I can't sit here any longer and watch history repeat itself. And watching the way you just spoke to someone you’re supposed to love. That’s exactly how your father spoke to your mother.”

You watched silently, waiting for Eddie to snap back at his uncle or lash out but he never did. He collapsed onto the couch, folding into himself as he wrapped his arms around his waist. He slowly started to rock his body back and forth.

“No,” he denied, looking at you now. “You know I didn’t mean it right. You know I love you. I just don’t feel good.”

Eddie was crying now too. His uncle's words making some sort of breakthrough. It was now or never.

“Then go get help, Eddie.” You approached him slowly, sitting down beside him carefully. “It’s already all set up for you. You just have to go.”

“And how are we going to afford that? I can just get clean here,” he argued.

You shook your head. “No. Don’t worry about the money it’s already taken care of.”

He would blow a fuse if he found out Steve had given you a significant loan to fund Eddie’s treatment. Steve insisted you wouldn’t have to pay him back but you were going to work the rest of your life to make sure he got every penny.

Eddie chewed on his already chapped lips before he took another look at his uncle's tear streaked face and started to nod.

Ninety days came and went in a blur.

Eddie’s room had been cleaned out prior to his arrival home. Anything that wasn’t good for him was tossed out.

You leaned against the side of Wayne’s truck while he went inside to collect Eddie. The warm breeze swept through, warming your skin. It was a beautiful day for Eddie to be free again.

You and Eddie didn’t speak for the first thirty days of his treatment. He was in worse shape than you thought when he first got there. There had been a few times when he almost left. Around day thirty five he called you to let you know that he was okay and that he would be sending you a letter he wrote.

It was a letter of apologies for everything he had done and said since he started using. With promises to get better. He told you that he loved you and he never stopped loving you even when things got rocky. That the addiction made him act that way and he would do anything possible to never hurt you again. You sobbed when you read it. You kept it folded up in your nightstand for when the nights got really lonely and you needed a reminder that Eddie was going to get better. And that he still loved you despite the way things were left.

The glass doors to the facility opened to reveal Wayne with a tall figure following closely behind him. You pushed off the truck to get a better look when he started speed walking towards you.

You didn’t have time to react before you were being lifted off the ground in a tight hug. You melted into his arms, savoring the feeling of him.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Wayne called out as he approached.

Eddie put you down, holding you out at arms length so he could get a good look at you. His skin was no longer sunken in but healthy with a glow. His hair shined in the sunlight. Two brown eyes full of life stared back at you.

Words escaped you. Part of you didn’t expect him to look better. You had expected to still see the sick and crying Eddie you had dropped off three months ago, not the one grinning at you now. The counselors had told you that this wasn’t a cure and he had to work hard for the rest of his life but it was a start to being better.

“Holy shit,” you blurted out.

Eddie's smile turned shy, his hands reaching up to cup your face. He looked at you for a second, making sure what he was about to do was okay. You nodded slightly, leaning in for your lips to meet. Eddie kissed you like he had been away for ninety years and not ninety days.

When you finally broke apart, he whispered into your ear the words you wanted to hear. “Thank you for saving me.”

#tw addiction #tw substance abuse #eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson request

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