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#and that it ‘’wasn’t their responsibility to keep track of’’
smoft-demons · 23 hours
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Hey, I've been reading your post for a while now andi absolutely love them. Before I got into OM I was already a big D&D person and love fantesty-romance novels. Although, that's besides the point. I was genuinely scared to ask this until I saw your headcanons, there so wholesome<3
But I was wondering if you could do a brothers + the others react to MC getting there period? I was planning on doing it on my own page but I'm a bit scared to publish my own stuff. Although, thank you if you do.
-H.M
Yeah, sure! As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I love writing all the comfort and fluff prompts. It’s like catnip to me lmao
This is gonna be pretty long, so I’m only gonna do the brothers.
Thanks for requesting!! I hope you like it :)
_______
MC is on their period
_______
You’ve been living in the House of Lamentation for a while now. You are, at this point, thoroughly and inextricably part of the family.
As a member of their family, your demons have no problem with helping you out. They can’t help but fawn over you a bit, as well—this wasn’t a familiar problem to them before meeting you, as none of them menstruate. Plus, any human condition of yours that highlights vulnerability and pain on your part makes them all get a tad protective.
In any case, they make sure to be helpful!
_______
Lucifer: responsibility -> rest
With your permission, Lucifer notes your cycle on the calendar he keeps on the kitchen wall. Tactfully, of course. It’s just a little red X in the corner of the box that marks the day you start until the day it ends. It ensures no one in the house forgets to be extra nice to you on those days. Plus, it serves as a way to remind you, in case it sneaks up on you.
In the week leading up to it, he checks up on your stock of human world products (and devildom ones too) for it. Painkillers, chocolate, tea, hygiene products, a heating pad, everything. If you’re running low, he will either take you to get more or take care of it himself, depending on how you’re feeling.
If you’re irregular, he takes extra care with tracking your cycle. Having records is important!
He takes you off the chore rotation while you’re bleeding. He wants you to rest. He will not make you expend your energy on chores while you’re in pain.
If you WANT to take some chores though, he understands and will let you, as long as you don’t make yourself suffer unnecessarily. He understands that some people cope worse with stress, illness, and/or pain when their routine is interrupted and they have no task to distract themself with. He would know! He’s one of them! So if you are too, he won’t force you to give up your tasks.
He does very strictly instruct you not to push yourself, however. You are to let him know immediately if you need to stop, so he or one of his brothers can help you out.
If you want somewhere quiet to hide, he’s got you. His study is a great spot for that! He won’t let anyone else in.
His room is another great spot for that, if you want a softer surface and dimmer lighting. You’re allowed to be in there without him if that ends up working out best (and he hopes you understand the level of trust in you he’s displaying by allowing that), but he has no problem with bringing his work out of the study and into his room if you want his company.
If he’s not on a time crunch, he won’t bother bringing any work with him though. Unless he has reason to expect you to feel guilty for taking up his time, in which case he will bring some and finish it in the room with you and then tell you he’s done for the day.
You end up lying on his bed with him, contorted in whatever weird position makes your cramps hurt the least. It’s the middle of the day, but for once Lucifer doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just lying next to you with his hand splayed over your uterus or lower back, applying light pressure and warmth to help the pain go away. Quietly talking to you about stuff that doesn’t matter.
There’s no concern for productivity. Nor for terrorizing his brothers into order. It seems the key for making Lucifer take a day to just relax is to request his company while you’re in pain.
See, Lucifer’s driving force is how much he loves his family. He will go to ANY lengths to keep them safe and happy. It’s his main priority. You’re part of his family now. You’re the youngest, even… and you’re in pain. So, he’s okay with pushing off the work Diavolo gives him for a day. For you, it’s worth it.
There’s no paperwork in any realm that he would prioritize over comforting you when you’re in pain. He hopes you feel all the love in that sentiment.
You know how huge a declaration that action is, because there is NO other way to get Lucifer to voluntarily lie around in the middle of the day.
_______
Mammon: devotion -> generosity
Mammon was the first one you went to for help during your very first period in the Devildom.
After a short, frantic conversation about what happened to you, why, and how you normally deal with this, he set you up in his room with some towels, a spare set of his own comfortably worn in clothes, and a movie as he rushed out to find some Devildom substitute for the hygiene products you’re used to. Just, SOMETHING to absorb the blood in the meantime before he can get you products from the human world!
He would have gone to the human world immediately, but he’s not allowed and he doesn’t have time to talk Lucifer into letting him up there yet!! You have NOTHING to work with right now, he’s gotta figure something out ASAP!
He didn’t even think about the amount of money he’s willing to spend, or how else he could be using it. He may not have been willing to tell you how much he cares for you at that point, but he has always come through for you when it matters. Even in the early days.
You find yourself contemplating Mammon’s contrasting demeanour while he’s out. This isn’t the first demonstration of his responsible mode that you’ve seen. It’s fascinating, the way he acts so careless and tsundere until someone needs him—at which point he drops that image like it’s nothing, revealing the softhearted and protective big brother he really is.
In those moments, you can see in his personality that he helped raise 5 little brothers (and one Lilith, though you don’t learn about her until later) and is actually pretty damn good at it. It’s clear that he loves you more than he’s willing to admit in those rare moments, when showing it genuinely matters.
Anyway. He came home with an assortment of items for you. No medicine yet because he doesn’t trust that Devildom painkillers won’t harm you, but he brought a BUNCH of snacks, and a collection of things that can be used to absorb the blood for now, until he can get Lucifer to let him go get the stuff you normally use from the human world. You can take your pick.
He even commissioned an enchanter to make you a custom heating pad, because he doesn’t trust the ones meant for demons to not burn your skin. He didn’t think about the price. Frankly, he doesn’t care. Maybe he’ll remember to complain about it to save face later. Maybe.
His main concern—making sure you’re okay—left no room to think of that in that moment. He waves off your concern about bloodstains on the stuff he lent you before he went out. Being reassuring in his usual irreverent way, saying something about how he’s a demon, and demons don’t tend to be squeamish about blood. Hell if he cares, he says.
While you’re in the bathroom washing up and dealing with the bleeding (with a SECOND set of Mammon’s worn-in, comfy clothes that he put in your hands before shoving you into the bathroom, not giving you a second to refuse), Mammon is texting Lucifer to find a way to get you proper period supplies from the human world.
When you come back to him, he tells you that you’ll have what you need before you go to bed, but in the meantime you should sit, because he’s putting on another movie.
He watches you shift around uncomfortably over the next few minutes. Cramps, you know. You’re not exactly comfortable sitting the way you are. Without a word, he pulls you to lie down with your head resting on his leg. He’s looking away from you, indistinctly mumbling something about “so lucky I’m lookin’ after ya” and “what would ya do without the great Mammon” and “MY human, damn it” as he carefully rubs tension out of your back.
“What was that?” You ask him.
“Shut up an’ watch the damn movie!” He splutters.
You stay like that until Lucifer shows up with your requested items. Pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, painkillers, whatever it is you asked for.
Later that night, as Mammon persists in rubbing your back as another movie plays, you find that your trust in him is stronger than it has ever been before. You understand exactly why Mammon is the best demon to be in charge of your well-being. Lucifer chose him for a reason, and it’s impossible to miss. Mammon is so damn caring under the tsundere façade.
You feel so loved. You ARE so loved. The pain fades away under the warmth of his hands. His lap makes a good pillow, and Mammon makes a great guardian.
(Every month after this, he leaves his door open for you in case you want a distraction from the pain. He’s ready with snacks and a movie. He’ll happily do this for you every time.)
_______
Levi: passion -> gentleness
Whatever it is that Levi notices first—be it the blood, the worse mood, the regular time spent with Mammon every month—he freaks out. He’s like “AAAAWTF WHY ARE YOU BLEEDING ARE YOU DYING???” Or like “oh noooo are you mad at me why are you randomly sad do you hate me now??” Or like “why can’t you reschedule with Mammon and do this time limited event with me, do you not wanna play with me anymore???”
Either way, bro is suffering.
Eventually, either you or one of his older brothers explains to him, and he feels bad. He didn’t mean to stress you out worse! Also, periods are real?? He thought it was just some creative plot point in the occasional anime! That’s crazy, why are humans built like that??
Anyway. Levi’s nothing if not passionate, and he’s gonna turn some of that passion towards finding ways to make you more comfortable.
He will find a way to order all the human world snacks you crave while you’re bleeding. He will be on the lookout for gifts, like games and merch and manga you’d want. He stockpiles them so he always has something ready to cheer you up when you need that.
He will even do his best to redirect the envy he feels towards Mammon and his established routine of movies and snacks in his room with you lying in his lap and getting free back rubs on the first day of your period each month. He wants that to be him, damn it! But he’s not gonna disrupt that for you.
He WILL claim hanging out with you on your day 2 though, AND will fill in every time if Mammon’s not available. The only thing that can beat out his shyness at the idea of having you using his lap as a pillow is the raging envy at knowing MAMMON gets to have that every month!
(Eventually, once you figure out that Levi wants to be invited so bad, you just invite him. It’s not like you don’t want him there! He’s very happy to sit next to you with your legs in his lap while he ignores Mammon’s stupid movie and plays a game on his phone. It’s nice to have two demon pillows. This one’s got built-in cooling!)
Levi understands not wanting to deal with lights and noise and craziness when you’re in pain. He will prevent any of his brothers from bringing any of that around you with all the determination and passion he brings to everything he cares about.
He is remarkably gentle, for someone who is usually so excitable. So considerate! You can see in the way he forces everyone to only argue over text, in the gentle movement of cool, nimble hands over sore calves and hips and ankles, in the presentation of snacks and gifts determinedly brought to you from the human world, how much he cares about you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.
_______
Satan: research -> comfort
The first order of business for nerd boy here is, of course, research. He is gathering information from all his relevant contacts—every human sorcerer and witch he knows, every demon with a pact-bonded menstruating human they care about AND the aforementioned human, every healer, medical researcher, librarian…
Yeah, he’s gonna end up knowing more about it than you do.
He comes back home after a few days, mumbling about human endocrine systems and nutrition and medical malpractice of menstruating patients and the mechanics of blood production and every phase of a menstrual cycle and how pain works on a chemical level. He’s got notebooks and everything. He’s got the whole history of menstruation since the beginning of humanity summarized in one of those notebooks.
… Maybe it’s a bit overkill. But you know how he gets when he’s curious, especially about something that hurts you! He’s gotta know everything!
So now he’s infodumping to you about every symptom you mention. If you’re the sort of person who finds that interesting and helpful, perfect! If you’re not… well, he won’t be offended if you get mad at him for effectively mansplaining your own body to you. Demon-splaining? Whatever, either way he will take that correction with grace and only tell you information you directly ask for. He’s learned enough about menstruation to be very sympathetic and patient while you’re in the middle of it. It seems awful to him, and he’s not about to make it worse!
He’s wise enough to know that he should ask before ACTING on any of that information though. He won’t try to optimize your nutrition or your painkillers or anything unless you ask him to. He knows that would be too far. He’s not prideful enough to override you like that, he’s not Lucifer.
If you get really angry when you bleed, he’s got you! He understands, he encourages you to yell and rant in front of him all you want. Throw around some destructive spellwork or just break stuff if you need to, he’s got a room for that. It’s all good!
Satan is so good with practical comfort. He’s big on venting for your health and sanity. He knows what buttons not to push, they’re obvious to him as wrath incarnate.
Of course, he’ll also give you hugs and drive off his crazy brothers if you need peace. He’ll bring you to the cats when you get sick of people. He’ll find you any answer you need. If your cycle is irregular or in any way atypical, there’s no better demon to have searching for answers for you—and he’d NEVER let no medical malpractice happen to you. Doctors are GOING to take you seriously, damn it!
To him, there’s no such thing as too much hassle to help someone he loves so much as he loves you.
_______
Asmo: luxury -> selflessness
As the Avatar of Lust, there’s no way Asmo doesn’t know the basics of how menstrual cycles work. No way. Even if demons don’t get them, it’s relevant to his whole domain.
Asmo’s got you. He’s gonna spoil the hell out of you. Massages with fancy oils, hot baths with magic muscle relaxant products added, masks to prevent any skin issues from fluctuating hormones, everything he can think of.
If anyone even tries to make you do anything you don’t want to, he will destroy them. This is a time for rest, he insists!
He relishes any opportunity to relax with you, have a self-care day, just chill and recharge together… but he’s prioritizing you. You get to see the rare responsible Asmo during this time! If you have non-negotiable responsibilities, he’s helping you. He wants you to get done faster!
He’s actually got a pretty great strategic mind when he’s incentivized to use it! He’s so efficient! Only because he wants you to be in his room relaxing as fast as possible, but it’s totally there!
At the end of it all, it’s completely possible that he forgets about spoiling himself too, just because he got so focused on trying to take as much of your pain away as possible. It’s wild that he doesn’t think he has any capacity for selflessness. Good thing you know better.
_______
Beel: perceptiveness -> caring
Beel smells the blood. Immediately. At first he’s concerned but minds his own business, trusting that Mammon’s taking care of you. But after you’ve pacted with him? Not anymore.
Beel becomes your warning system. He will notify you as soon as the hormonal shift starts to happen. Days before you even start bleeding.
You know it’s because he cares, and that he can’t avoid noticing the change in your scent whether he wants to or not. You choose not to think it’s weird.
He gets worried once he learns about what happens to you every month. His first priority is making sure he doesn’t eat everything that’s high in iron, folic acid, vitamin C and D, and omega-3s. All very good for you when you’re on your period. He makes sure that stuff remains available to you.
He invites you to exercise with him too, because he heard that can be helpful. He won’t STOP you from lifting if that’s what you want to do, but HE is choosing to focus on stretching and moderate cardio for now (stuff that should be more helpful for you) and if you want to join him, well… that’s what he’s doing. What do you mean he changed it on purpose? He just felt like yoga and a nice jog today! Don’t think about it too hard!
Beel is actually the best one to go to for massages. Sure, Asmo knows what feels good and he’s phenomenal at that. True. But Beel is the one who understands every muscle and tendon in a body, so if you want a full, functional reset, in which all the tension and soreness in you gets methodically, optimally pressed out, you go to Beel. It might not feel quite as nice—in fact it might hurt a fair bit—but it’ll be so effective. You will have no pain at all after. Plus, he’ll teach you stretches to prevent some of that tension coming back later, too. He’s so helpful.
_______
Belphie: laziness -> service
We all know Belphie is the number one advocate for rest. He will encourage you to sleep through as much of it as possible. Why would you want to be awake to experience pain? Screw that. He will actively keep you asleep as long as possible—unless you tell him in advance that there has to be limits so you don’t bleed on everything you’re touching. Even so, he doesn’t quite see the problem. He’s a demon, he’s not squeamish about blood. What biohazard?
But no, he’ll respect that. If he’s a lil shit about it, all you have to do is pull the “remember that time you killed me” card and he’ll do whatever you want lol
In the biggest twist of irony since The Incident, Belphie actually finds himself serving as your alarm clock. It has to be him, you see, because he insists on sleeping next to you. He wants to be there to ensure you sleep through the night, and don’t ever get woken up by cramps. So it’s gotta be him to wake you up when it’s absolutely necessary. Because you see, he does not trust anyone else to understand what’s absolutely necessary. Only someone who loves sleep as much as him gets it, he insists.
Belphie is nothing if not lazy. Obviously. But… he’s actually voluntarily doing work on your behalf?? He’s concealing bloodstains on your sheets from you so you don’t feel uncomfortable, and washing them for you. He isn’t even telling you about that, so he isn’t even getting any thanks for it! How very kind and un-demonic of him!
(Of course, he’s mostly doing it because he doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed and stop sleeping next to him while you’re on your period. He’s got selfish reasons. But… really, it’s not very selfish at all when you look at how that benefits you too. How could he be so surprised to hear that you think he can be kind and sweet when he wants to be? How’s he not seeing it??)
He may deny that he’s actually a sweetie, but you know the truth. When sloth incarnate is voluntarily doing secret chores for you, you KNOW he loves you. It might as well be spilling out of his soul, it’s so undeniable.
_______
You’re bleeding. It’s miserable. No one likes their period. It’s made much more bearable for you, however, now that you have this ridiculous family falling over themselves to make your life easier. All the pain, all the hormonal fuckery, all the bullshit your body puts you through is… well, actually quite tolerable when you’re loved this much.
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moviecritc · 22 hours
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like the movies ⋆ max verstappen
bonus track of my bewitched department
pairing: max verstappen x actress!reader
summary: even though you've been all your life acting, you never experienced a love like the movies, until max appeared in your life
word count: 1.7K
warnings: none, just pure fluff
a/n: I'm going through a max verstappen phase, so if you have any requests for a blurb or something cute, send them <3
english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes
masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd
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"Are you breaking up with me over the phone? While I'm on my way to your parents' house? Are you stupid or what?" With each sentence, Y/N's voice grew louder.
"Y/N, I'm really sorry. But…"
"But my ass! Don’t you have any common sense?"
She could hear her boyfriend sigh, and she sighed four times louder than him.
"You are too… cold-hearted for me," he finally said from the other end of the line.
Y/N stifled an exclamation. Cold-hearted? How could she be if she was an actress? She was the warmest person he had known.
"You're always focused on your job and yourself, I need someone…"
"Idiot!" Y/N interrupted him. "Just say you don’t have enough self-love to date an independent woman. You worthless piece of shit."
She hung up after her sentence, not wanting to hear her ex-boyfriend's response. She parked the car and ran her hands over her face. She looked at herself in the little mirror of her car, touching up her lipstick and reassuring herself that she was a good person worthy of love.
She got out of her car and went directly to the bookstore in front of her. She still had quite a few books in her apartment to read, but she didn’t mind. It was her third breakup in four months, and she was starting to wonder if she really was the problem, and the only thing that could distract her from that was spending money she didn't have.
She began to pile books on her arms, and by the fifth manuscript, she started to wobble.
"Do you need help?"
Y/N blinked and peeked her head out from the stack of books, meeting a blonde with a very un-London-like accent and skinny jeans who looked like anything but someone who worked in a bookstore. She didn't know that strangers were now offering help out there.
"No, thanks," She took a step and added a sixth book, enough for all of them to fall. "Shit!"
Y/N felt so embarrassed she even blushed. She knew everyone in the bookstore would be watching her, and that terrified her.
"May I help you now?"
Y/N looked up, having completely forgotten about the presence of the stranger, who was looking at her with a kind smile.
"If you insist…" She smiled a little while rolling her eyes, which made him smile too.
They picked up the books together, which were a bunch of rom-coms. For a moment she thought he would judge her choices, but he didn’t make any gesture.
"I'm Max, by the way"
Y/N blinked. She had no idea what was happening, it seemed totally unreal that a stranger would help her pick up her books and suddenly introduce himself.
"Do you like Sally Rooney?" he asked, holding the last book she'd picked.
Y/N realized that this guy wanted to keep a trivial conversation with her, like those you have in nightclub bathrooms with girls. But this time was a bookstore, not a library. And not a girl, but a Max.
"I’ve never read her, but I saw Normal People, the series, and I was left wanting more," she explained, with a shy smile. "Y/N, by the way."
"Nice to meet you," he showed her a gorgeous smile. "I read the book, I haven’t had time to watch the series yet."
"Oh, it's really good,"
The conversation flowed too easily. She wasn’t used to talking so normally with someone she had just met a few minutes ago and moreover without it being awkward, but that was how it was. Y/N told him about the books she planned to buy and the one she was reading now.
"Excuse me, we're going to close," an employee informed them. In London, shops always closed in the mid-afternoon, for lunch, and although Y/N had arrived around eleven-thirty, the clock was almost striking one. "Are you taking the books?"
"Sure, yes," said Y/N at once and turned to Max. "Hold on a sec."
Max waved his hand, telling her not to worry, that he would wait. She paid for the books and quickly returned to Max.
"Do you have plans for this afternoon?" Max asked directly. Y/N loved the confidence in his voice.
"No, I don’t,"
"Can I invite you to lunch?"
"I'd love that,"
Y/N went to leave the bag of books in her car and she and Max walked to a nearby restaurant, continuing their conversation. It still seemed extremely surreal to her, in what universe does she break up with her boyfriend and moments later meet the nicest guy she had ever known?
"What do you do?" Max asked, once they were seated in the restaurant.
"I'm an actress," she pursed her lips. She was still in the phase where it was hard for her to admit she worked in that field.
"I'm not much into movies," Max commented, scrunching his nose.
"Great because I do theater,"
"Really?" he leaned back in his chair, impressed. "I don’t frequent the theater either, to be honest."
They both laughed softly and Y/N sipped her drink. "And you?"
"I work with cars,"
Y/N furrowed her brow, waiting for him to specify a bit more. "In a repair shop or how?"
That caused a small laugh from Max, leaving Y/N even more confused.
"Yes, exactly. In a repair shop," he continued with a wide smile.
"Well, if you like cars, there's some Prix thing here this weekend. There are tourists everywhere, it's terrible," she complained, rolling her eyes a bit.
Max gave her a goofy smile. That was perfect. Simply perfect.
"Really?" he arched his eyebrows slightly. "I had no idea."
"They do it every year. A silly thing," Y/N shrugged, letting the topic pass.
They continued talking for a long time about how Y/N once almost knocked down the shelves in a bookstore.
"Just like in the movies!" Max said, laughing.
She nodded, also laughing. "I swear things like a character in a tragicomedy happen to me."
They continued laughing for a while, then Max squinted a bit, resting his head on the palms of his hands. "And don’t you think it’s very movie-like that someone picks up your books for you?"
Y/N looked around, with sudden terror. "Where are the cameras, Max?"
He threw his head back laughing with a soft scrunch in his nose. The sound of his laugh felt really warm for Y/N.
"I hope nowhere," Max was right. Too good to be true. Too good to happen to her. Her look darkened a bit, and Max noticed it quickly. "Something wrong?"
She looked up and shook her head a little. "It's just… Is this weird?"
"I don’t think so, unless you want to make it weird. I’m pretty good at that,"
Max got a small smile from her.
"It's just that I’m used to…” Y/N thought about that sentence. “To things like this not happening to me. I haven’t been doing too well in love this past year,"
"Oh, me neither," Max didn’t mention the part about being a famous person and everyone wanting to be with him out of pure interest and not because they really liked him. "It's complicated."
"Quite," she pursed her lips. "Anyway… I have a performance at a theater in Soho on Thursday, you could come by. If you want, of course."
Max bit his lip; he had his first free practice that day and likely several meetings and driver duties.
"Oh, I'd love to. What time?"
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They exchanged phones after the meal, which dragged on quite a bit, so that Y/N could send Max the location of the theater. And to exchange several messages throughout the day. They didn't see each other again until the day of the performance, but in that time, they had written dozens of messages. Y/N would tell Max about the series or movie she had watched that afternoon and recommended that he watch it, even though it was more than likely that Max hadn't turned on a TV in months.
Thursday arrived, and Max managed to sneak away from a meeting, arriving just in time for the play.
Y/N was nervous, and her co-star wasn't helping.
"Y/N!" Her co-star approached practically running. "I just heard that a famous driver is watching the play."
"Really?" She didn't care too much. She had been without news from Max for hours.
Luckily, he appeared at the door with a kind smile and a bouquet of roses. "Hi,"
Y/N flashed a smile and went up to him, instinctively wanting to hug him. Max, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, left a short kiss on her lips. She instantly blushed.
"Hello," Y/N greeted, with a silly smile. "Gorgeous flowers."
Max looked at her co-star, who was completely astonished.
"Lily, are you okay?" questioned Y/N, still hugging Max.
"Why didn't you tell me you were dating a famous driver?"
Y/N turned to Max instantly.
"What do you mean, 'famous driver'?"
Max pursed his lips slightly. "Aren't you going to call her out on the 'dating' thing?"
Y/N paused for a moment, trying not to laugh at what Max had said.
"Y/N, this is Max Verstappen. The Formula 1 driver!"
She lifted her chin and looked at Max again. "Formula 1 driver?"
Max scratched his neck.
"I think so…"
Y/N paused again for a moment. "And you let me mock your career just like that?"
"It's because you're strangely nice, what can I do," Max shrugged, causing Y/N to laugh.
"Well, I'm not one to deny it," she smiled a bit, then kissed Max's lips a second time. She placed a finger on his chest. "Though we're not dating, huh. We need to have a second date before we throw it all in for each other,"
Max burst out laughing. "Like they do in the movies?"
"Absolutely."
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taglist; @theseerbetweenus
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blkkizzat · 7 hours
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❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜
PART 2
part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' series
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⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 (IN STOCK NOW!!) | PART 3 (coming soon!)
⋙ product description (summary): okay so you finally realized how badly you fucked up. but is it too late? will choso even talk to you now? has he moved on for good or is it that you now have to worry about someone else moving onto him? ⋙ side effects (tw): more drama. more angst. teasing. jealousy. thirsting. mentions of sex and oral sex. intoxication with drug & alcohol use. sending nudes. y/n is still a brat. bitchy sorority sisters. party culture. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 8.2k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. i appreciate y'all liking this sm hope you don't mind i split this up more, but the second part was getting too unruly in length lol
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Plug!Choso who you thought forgetting about would be relatively easy. Overwhelmed with the sheer amount of new presidential duties, you had no shortage of various meetings to keep you occupied. Even so, Choso had a way of popping into your mind as the most routine things would remind you of him. 
Yet now you couldn’t even go get a fresh set of nails without expecting to see his tinted blacked-out sedan parked outside waiting for you. Scrolling socials had also become annoying as you’d see a post and immediately want to send it to Choso— your sorority sisters would think you were gross if you sent them mukbang videos. You couldn’t even bake anything anymore, especially anything chocolate, without reminding yourself of how much Yuji hated nuts in his chocolate chip cookies. 
Or even now when you had been walking across campus with your sisters and chatting about the massive proposal plan of next year’s activities. A daunting task on its own which you had to submit to your national chapter by the end of the month. In fact, there were a lot of tedious things you realized you’d now be responsible for as president. 
However, all of that flew out of your mind when a car sped by blasting a familiar rock song— one that Choso always played. 
Stopping in your tracks you whipped your head around but the music was coming from a completely different car. The disappointment in your chest felt like you were suffocating.
The song was the first one from Choso’s ‘stoner emo boy playlist’ that you’d actually admitted you liked so he made sure to play it whenever you came around. You didn’t think you were official enough to have a song, it felt like you did when you’d heard it just now. 
Although what pained you more in the moment was the fact Choso hadn’t even bothered to text you since the day of the brunch. Your pride and guilt kept you from texting him initially but after the first week you caved and did what you once thought was unthinkable— texting a guy first. 
You’d thought he’d answer instantly, happy you’d finally forgiven him for nearly ruining your brunch and you did want to apologize for missing Yuji’s game. But when 20 minutes turned into an hour and an hour turned into the entire day you realized he was ignoring you.
Choso was a dealer. 
He always had his phone on him. In fact, Choso used to respond to you so fast you wondered if he’d always kept your messages up on his screen.
The seriousness hits home when more of your texts go unanswered as the days go by. 
You huffed. 
Two weeks had passed since you first reached out and apparently Choso was still giving you the cold shoulder. Unconsciously chewing on your manicured french tips, your intrusive thoughts from painting the absolute worst scenarios. 
This was around the time of day he’d usually be on campus and you’d meet up in the empty garage. 
Would he be there now doing another deal? 
Or giving ‘discounts’ to another girl?
You shook your head. Choso wasn’t like that. 
You knew he wasn’t. Then again he had stuffed your guts in less than 10 minutes of knowing each other.
But you were the exception right? Choso wouldn’t move on just like that, would he? 
Rejection wasn’t something you had dealt with often in your life or well, ever. 
You’d gotten everything you wanted since you were little whether it was something you worked for or something given to you. 
So what if you didn’t have Choso?
You should be content with life. 
You had everything you’d ever wanted right now. 
You were pretty, got damn near perfect grades and now had the title of sorority president for fuckssake! 
Meeting someone like Choso was never part of your plans and didn’t fit into them either, so you had never really considered what the both of you were to be anything long-term. 
Nor did you ever stop to consider what he thought of your relationship. 
You thought he’d lick his wounds for a few days and forgive you. However with each passing day the thought he might really be done with you sinks in more and more.
Regardless of the legion of frat guys who would jump at the chance to date you, the only guy you really wanted right now apparently wanted fuck all to do with you. 
Ok so maybe you deserve the silent treatment. 
A lot. 
You never been that big of a bitch to him before. But you really had panicked when he showed up out of the blue with your parents on the way! Also if he didn’t go and threaten the DJ like he did???
You sighed. 
No, even under more peaceful circumstances the end result was you weren’t going to leave to go to Yuji’s game. You couldn’t blame him for being furious with you as you knew how protective he was of his younger brother but you at least wish he’d hear you out.
Just for one last time and maybe you could make it up to Yuji too? 
Get him a nice gift for missing his little league game and bake him chocolate chip cookies—without the nuts. You wanted to hear him adorably ramble on which would always be accompanied by animated hand movements while he gave you the rundown. Yuji often even roped in Choso, who would be all too happy to play whatever role or prop Yuji needed him for. 
Their identical grins, goofy and filled with joy never failed to put a smile on your face. A smile which came easy as there was never any demands put on you when you were with them. No pretending for the sake of appearances, no worrying about social standing and no expectations for favors. 
With them you were just you and they had accepted you.
But had you accepted them? 
Shit. 
Yeah you had fucked up big. 
You knew you needed to talk to Choso and If you weren’t all but certain Choso would slam the door in your face, you’d have half a mind to go pop up at his house. 
Although maybe if Yuji ans—
“—-Like HELLO!? Earth to Prez!”
Your train of thought abruptly comes to an end when one of your sorority sisters— Brianna— rudely snaps their fingers in your face. 
Bitch. 
She’d been bitter ever since she’d lost the presidency to you. 
Elections were over so you didn't have to worry about staying on everyone's good side like you had been doing for the last 3 years of being super sweet and non confrontational. Even so, snatching up a fellow sister certainly wouldn’t make a good impression for a newly appointed president.
“What IS it Brie!?” 
Turning to face her you had no choice but to keep your cool.
“Don’t give me attitude! You’re the one not paying attention, space case.”  
Brianna huffed accusingly. 
“Yeah, Brie’s kinda right Prez, you’ve been a little bit distracted lately.” 
Another one of your sisters chimed in—immediately looking down when your eyes narrowed on her.
“Don't tell me the pressure is already getting to ‘Little Miss Legacy'? Or—”
Brianna flips her hair with a sly smile before continuing.
“—is it just that you miss your burnout stalker boy?” 
“E-Excuse me!?”
Extremely disarmed by the allegation, you were not expecting in a million years the very person you were thinking of to be brought up like this by Brianna of all people. 
“You know—you’ve been acting off since the brunch a few weeks ago and we used to be practically swimming in za—way more o’s than we paid for. You must have been doing something to get all that from that future convict and he must be pretty pissed with you if you haven’t been able to get anymore since.”
The rest of your sisters were gagged at the accusations Brianna was tossing your way as it was  true that your supply had been dwindling. Their eyes darted between the two of you but mostly focused on you waiting for your response. 
You ignore them though as all your ire was on Brianna.
This whore had some fucking nerve speaking about Choso like that. 
The thought of knocking the smug look off Brianna’s face is almost too tempting —presidency be damned. 
Yet this time your own guilt stops you.
Too little, much too late for you to be standing up for Choso now the way you had dismissed him so harshly in front of Brianna and the rest of your sisters just a few weeks ago. You could only be mad at yourself, your own actions showed them how to treat Choso.
That didn’t mean you were going to let her get away with it without a proper lashing though. 
“Listen—Brie, Little Miss Legacy is busy juggling the presidency, a 3.8 gpa, volunteer work and planning every goddamn sorority event worth attending. As for you? Well I heard you’d been pretty busy these days juggling your creepy ass T.A. Noaya’s balls because you were going to fail Biology again for the third time—so do you really want to talk about pressure or whose fucking whom for what?”
Standing up for yourself wasn’t something you ever did in an effort to be likable and so Briana—as well as the rest of your sisters—were stunned into silence. 
Even if her fucking for grades had been no secret, it wasn’t something anyone talked about out loud and yet you’d gladly air her out again for insulting Choso.
“Urgh, whatever! Anyways while you were daydreaming we were planning Jeremy's birthday party on Saturday.”
You rolled your eyes at the inattention to some random frat guy’s bday being the reason for this whole confrontation.  
“Oookay and—?”
“—and we need you to get some more za from your stalk— er um, I mean your plug...” 
Brianna quickly corrects herself seeing your eyes flare.  
“Jermey wants a joint filled pinata and don’t have nearly enough right now to roll all those joints.”
You suck your teeth in annoyance. 
Of course it all had to come back around to Choso.
“I’m not talking to him right now. We’ll find someone else.” 
Well it was half true, more like he wasn’t talking to you. 
You tried not to pout and completely give yourself away at how much it really was affecting you you.
“Well start again, Prez! You know his stuff is the best!”
“We already promised everyone we’d have it!” 
“Please Prez!”
The rest of your sorority sisters chimed in.  
“Yeah Prez it shouldn’t be a problem. Send him an ass pic or something, I bet he would respond to that.” 
The rest of your sisters giggled in agreement. 
Little did they know you had already sent Choso nudes 8 days ago, which when you checked Snap last just 10 minutes ago he still hadn’t opened yet. 
You’d die before admitting that though.
“Fine. I’ll figure it out.” 
“Knew you would Prez!” 
Brianna tossed you a fake smile as she turned around and your sisters followed suit walking back towards the sorority house. The chatter now moves on to drink options as the previous conversation is instantly forgotten. 
You still flip the bitch off behind her back though before you catch up to join the conversation lest these dumb bitches skimp out on drinks for more decorations and have you all drinking Monarch vodka again—gross, much more so than a mukbang video.
Plug!Choso who later that night has you laying on your bed staring at your phone suspended over you, your finger hovering over the send button. 
What if he ignored you this time too? 
Worse—what if he had finally blocked you?
Well all your messages had gone through so far even though his read receipts were off. 
Choso hadn’t blocked you yet. 
Only two days had passed since you last texted him but scrolling through your history the wall of blue taking over the entire screen had you feeling vexed.
Hadn’t Choso punished you enough? 
Biting your lip in apprehension you hit send. 
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You almost dropped your phone on your face. Sitting up in your bed you stare at his text incredulously as the sticker shock of Choso jacking up the price by $150 hits you.
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You deserved that, you supposed. 
But fuck you knew you’d have to come up out of pocket yourself for the extra and you couldn’t admit to your sisters why the price had gone up so much again.
At least he was answering you though. 
You threw your phone across your bed. 
Well that went super. 
You’d hope you’d have the chance to talk about things while he was responding to you, maybe get him to video call you? You knew he still wouldn’t be thrilled with you but you didn’t expect his responses to be that short once he finally answered. 
Choso always over texted you if anything, sending paragraphs at times so these clipped messages were like tiny daggers pricking you with each one you received.  
You didn’t think you could handle him being mean to you like this for much longer. 
Getting a taste of your own medicine fucking sucked.
With a sigh you had decided to push it to the back of your mind. It was Tuesday and he wasn’t even coming until Friday.
That’s when you realized Choso implied he was coming to you. 
As in your sorority house. 
On Friday. 
The night of the Barbie’s Dreamhouse Kegger. 
Goddamnit.
Plug!Choso who shows up to your sorority house on Friday night just before midnight when the kegger is at its peak. Choso doesn’t give a single fuck this time around that he sticks out like a sore thumb with his dark tattered jeans, matching leather jacket, heavy eyeliner and metal piercings amongst all the colorful and peppy pastel attired party-goers. 
Choso waltzes right through the front door like he owns the place.
“Oh! It's you! Finally!” 
Flipping her hair behind her to show off her ample cleavage, your sorority sister Brianna bounces over to Choso who continues to look past her as his eyes scan the foyer.
To be honest he wasn’t even sure she was talking to him until she mentioned you.
“You’re the plug, right? Choso? Here for Prez, hmm?” 
Brianna appraised Choso with a flirty glance and a smile. 
“I’m Brianna, but everyone calls me Brie. She’s outside with her boys! I’ll take you there, kay?”
Her boys?
Brianna batts her eyes sweetly to complement her peppy demeanor. 
Choso simply nods, appearing unphased as Brianna grabs him by the arm of his jacket to lead him through the sea of people crowding the hall and out to the backyard. The very same backyard where you had rejected and humiliated him to save your own superficial social standing just a few weeks ago. 
Of course he hadn’t forgotten. 
Choso noted this time though the expansive yard had a completely different vibe from the pretentious scene he’d walked into before. The backyard was now filled with pink inflatable decorations and rose gold plastered party supplies, trading the expensive crystal for matching pink solo cups and decorative flower displays for shotskis. 
Yet Choso’s comparisons end once he finally spots you in the crowd. 
Playing beer pong with some frat fucks, carefree like you had zero concerns (or thoughts of him) in the world as you taunted your opponents. 
Choso’s eyes narrow when you—clad in a scandalously small pink sparkly tube top—brought a dainty manicured nail to your chest and seductively dragged it down your cleavage to tug at the hem of the fabric. The tops of your tits swell over the edge of the material provocatively as you tease the chance they might altogether spill out onto the table if you pulled any lower.
The plan worked and your opponents thoroughly distracted missed their shots much to your amused squeals and Choso’s growing irritation. His brow twitched as he noticed the rest of your outfit which barely provided any more coverage. 
The matching mini skirt you wore rested low enough on your curvy hips to show the very edges of your thong but high enough on your thighs that your cheeks were nearly peeking out just from the slight bend you took as you aimed to take your next shot. Your pink jeweled belly ring (that he’d bought you) and gem adorned nude fishnets lead down to chunky hot pink glitter pumps only calling more attention to your lower half as they were illuminated by the outdoor tiki lights.
Why were you dressed like such a slut and letting those greasy shitheads drool all over you? 
Your beer pong partner was clearly exaggerating his drunkenness for an excuse to feel you up as his hand rested dangerously close to the top of your ass as you took your next shot. 
Were you that clueless?
Choso’s jaw clenches as you allow yourself to be pulled in by the shoulder tits first into a celebratory hug after landing a cup off a bounce, thus removing two. The way you’d casually let those assholes gawk and grab at you when you wouldn’t even make eye contact with him in public pisses him off like none other and reminds him why he had decided to cut you off after all.
This time though Choso doesn’t march over, masking his resentment with nonchalance as he considers leaving altogether. 
Sure he needed the money—but it wouldn’t make or break him in the long run. 
Keeping the big picture in mind, Choso had Yuji to think of and he couldn’t afford to catch a case over your slutty ass in case he actually gave into the urge to knock some random frat fucker’s teeth out.
Yet Choso switches his attention back to Brianna when she returns with a beer filled cup for him and her sheer top unbuttoned even lower. 
Oh? 
Choso grins. 
Plug!Choso who you finally notice standing near the back door of your sorority house next to—Brianna?!…urgh! 
Her obnoxious high-pitched laughter loudly cut even through the music and party chatter to draw your attention over. 
What the hell was Choso even doing with her?! 
You grit your teeth as Choso takes the drink. You watch him as he reclines against the house and cheered cups together. Brianna is twirling her hair innocently as she flirts with him, giggling like an idiot. 
One without an ounce of shame at that. 
You seethe as she clutches onto his bicep pulling herself closer and resting her tits on his arm when she pretends to momentarily lose her balance. 
Stupid cunt ass bitch. 
You know it's just to spite you too. 
Of course Brianna still didn’t know of the true nature of your relationship with Choso for certain but a backstabbing whore like her would try to fuck him solely off an inkling. 
If anything just so she could say your ‘stalker’ was now hers.
She was just using him! Did Choso not see that?! 
Your beer pong partner slides his arm around you to tell you it’s your turn again but you don’t even spare him a backwards glance as you shrug him off. Abandoning the game and ignoring his puzzled calls after you. 
Truthfully it doesn’t even register as you are on your warpath with Choso and Brianna in your sights, stomping directly towards them like you were on a mission. You were too, as far as you were concerned, determined to break that shit up expeditiously. 
Especially now as you see Brianna airdropping her contact info to Choso.
Stopping directly in front of them you’re far too tipsy to prevent your souring mood from spreading all over your face when they both seem to not notice you right away.  
You loudly clear your throat.
“AHEM!”
Staring at Choso expectantly your lip curls when it's Brianna who greets you first instead.
“Oh Prez, my B girly! We didn’t notice you there!” 
“Whatever, Brie.”
You sneer at her. 
Although Brianna only giggles again, feigning innocence and leaning into Choso a bit more. 
The whore was still touching up on him.
“I was just keeping Cho here company until we found you.”
Bullshit, they were searching fo– Hol’ the fuck up—CHO?! 
Did this whore just call him Cho?! 
That was your fucking nickname for him! Only you and Yuji were allowed to call him that!
Oh Brianna was just begging for that ass whooping, dying for it even. 
Swaying on your feet, your buzz only intensifies your anger and folding your arms in front of you serves two purposes at the moment: 
To keep your balance as you try to prevent your heels from sinking into the grass— but more importantly— because the urge to yank a bitch was escalating to the point your hands were now twitching. 
You had drank way too much in your nervousness waiting for Choso.  
You thought a quick round of beer pong would settle your anxieties as you’d been hanging out near the front door all day and night not knowing when he’d show up. However time had slipped away from you and one game had turned into three. 
You didn’t even really know the guys you were playing with, just some random freshman!
Of course once you finally let your guard down Choso would not only show up but be hanging out with your biggest opp!
But what really had you about to crack—Choso was taking his sweet time in acknowledging you as he appeared to be more concerned with checking Brianna’s contact info than speaking to you right in front of him. “Ight, got it.” 
Choso confirmed and slid his phone back into his jacket before pulling out a joint as he finally made eye contact with you.
THE FUCK!? HE ACTUALLY SAVED IT?! 
Plug!Choso who stares at you with a condescending smirk as his eyes twinkled with sadistic amusement before exhaling smoke towards the sky.
You bite your cheek to hold back your angry tears, you weren’t about to give Brianna the satisfaction. She could fuck right the hell off as far as you were concerned, only wanting to speak to Choso who was currently looking at you like you were the one interrupting something.
“W-Why didn't you text me you were here?! I would have come outside!” 
Your words fumble out of you drunkenly, not sounding one bit as smooth and unbothered as you hoped.
“For why tho? Don’t you have me silenced anyway, Prez?”
You stiffened. 
Even if he wasn’t silenced right now you couldn’t deny you had previously silenced him before the last few weeks of trying to get him to talk to you. 
“Yea figured—so thought it’d be best to come inside…”
Choso exhales smoke through his nose this time, leering down at you as he passes the joint to Brianna who eagerly takes it.
“You really think I’m still tryna wait for you?”
Choso’s words are crushing as the double meaning behind them is not lost on you. Parting your glossed lips you couldn’t even form a sentence as your mouth had gone completely dry.
Brows raised Choso is practically daring you to challenge him. 
But you’re frozen. 
Ironic, because his eyes are all but intensely burning into yours as his accusingly cruel question penetrated you like a hot knife to butter. 
However, bringing you back, Brianna interrupts the moment—because of course she does—not being able to read the damn room nor handle the attention being away from her for 5 fucking seconds.
“You know Prez… You’re going to be pretty busy with all your responsibilities soon...”
Brianna taps her stiletto shaped nail to her lips in faux contemplation. Her smarmy expression gives away her true intentions resembling every bit of the evil bitch she is. 
“...Annnnnd it won’t look good for our lovely new president to put herself at risk by getting us drugs, right? Sooooo, I was telling Cho here how I’m going to be the one taking over for you now.”
Brianna coyly tucks a few loose strands of her long tawny locks behind her ear. 
“Who knows? I might be able to get a better discount than you too.”
Passing the blunt back to Choso she winks at him. Choso merely chuckles, shaking his head at the implications before taking another hit.
And yeah that’s what fucking did it alright.
More than ready to give Brianna exactly what the fuck she’d been asking for you wordlessly lunge forward to snatch her up by those raggedy ass microlink extensions she couldn’t stop touching.
However your trajectory is thrown when you feel Choso grab you by your wrist. Pulling you in towards him, the action confused both you and Brianna—who didn’t know how close she was to actually kissing dirt.
Choso passes the joint back to Brianna, telling her to keep it as a ‘sample’ he turns his attention back towards you.
“Come on Prez, I got places to be. Get me my money now before I charge your ass the full stack.”
You both leave Brianna standing there dumbfounded as Choso drags you back into the house. 
Plug!Choso guides you through the crowd of your sisters that are all now much too drunk and self-involved in their own good time to care about the pierced n’ scary dark haired man towing their president behind him. 
Reaching the staircase Choso motions for you to go ahead of him and you nod dumbly as you obediently climb the stairs trying not to trip. 
Urging you along, Choso is right on your tail— quite literally, as he tries to simultaneously avoid staring at your ass cheeks jiggling out from under your skirt—but more importantly tries to keep any other wandering eyes below from getting a peek as well. 
Choso places a hand on your waist, both to keep you from falling and to move you along quicker. Warm tingles radiate out from where his hands touch your bare skin yet he instantly releases you once you reach the top.
You can’t help but to pout at the loss of contact.
“Which one?”
Choso still feels all business though as he walks ahead of you like he can’t wait to wrap this up and get you the fuck out of his life again.
Plug!Choso who you usher into your room before closing the door. The party seems distant as only the faint sounds of the base bumping against the walls reach the sanctuary of your room. Still holding the knob you’re leaning with your back against the doorframe as your body is still pumping insane amounts of adrenaline through you. 
Nearly fighting Brianna, Choso finally touching you, on top of being drunk had your mind going into overdrive especially since it seemed like Choso would leave as soon as the deal was over.
Would he really take the money and go just like that?
Choso’s face is unreadable as he strolls deeper into your room and casually looks around. You had always come over to his place and he would have never in a million years dreamed of being able to see your room in your actual sorority house. 
It was so you though. 
Tidy and adorned in your favorite colors, your walls are decorated with pictures of celebrities, friends and various moodboards. Not to mention it smelled like you. The scent of your sugary perfume with notes of vanilla and saffron assaulted Choso's senses making it seem a bit warmer in the room than it actually was.
“Yo Prez, the money.” 
His patience for the situation is dwindling. He has to get out and fast. 
Choso doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t leave soon.
Yet you were plotting the exact opposite and you couldn’t let him leave so easily now that you finally had him alone after all this time. 
Armed with a plan you nod as you scoot by him and over to your vanity to retrieve the cash. Acting clueless as to which drawer you put it in, you search them all as you bend over to check one of the drawers at the very bottom. 
Choso swallows hard.
Your ass–with plenty of curves to spare–is on display for him as well as your sheer pink thong that teasingly pokes out between your crystal studded fishnets. 
You had to be doing this on purpose. 
Swishing side to side your skirt raises up a bit higher with every shift of your hips while your thong strains tighter across the print of your fat pussy lips threatening to snap altogether.
Akin to a seductive pendulum as you sway before Choso completely entrancing him. 
Only you could ever affect him in this way.
After what feels like years do you finally locate the money, a sizable stack of cash composed of 20 dollar bills.
“Found it! In the top drawer all along, imagine that!”
Smirking you plop down in your vanity chair crossing your legs not missing how Choso’s gaze lingered, even if just the tiniest moment, on your thighs.
“Took ya long enough…” 
Choso mumbles. There's no real bite to his words this time though. He’s holding his backpack close to hide his half chub while he removes 3 hefty bags of kush from his backpack to toss on the desk beside you.
Reaching for the cash his annoyance is evident on his face when you jerk away from him. Leaning back and fanning the bills across your chest, you wave them tauntingly in the air.
“Stop playin’ around. Not in the fuckin mood, I swear.”
“Playing?”
You question acting coy.
“This is just business right Choso?”
You sat up as if you were taking this seriously at all and Choso is unamused as he reaches for the money again. 
And you snatch it back yet again like a fucking brat. 
“I’m practically dropping a stack on this–thanks to your new “tax” and all. How do I know if it's any good?”
Clearly your plan is working as you continue to push Choso’s buttons pretending you aren’t excited from him towering over you now.
“Cut the games, Prez. Ya know my shit is always pressure.”
You act contemplative as your eyes lazily travel up his tense muscular form appreciating the view after not seeing him for so long.
“Hmmm, do I though?”
Choso scoffs, growing tired of your games. 
That’s all he ever was to you, a game.
“Like I said, just business. Or are you telling me you weren’t going to count the cash to make sure it's all there before you left?”
Damn. Well you got 'em there. 
Choso rubs the back of his neck before letting out a frustrated sigh.
“Tch—let’s make this quick then, Prez.”
Plug!Choso who after grabbing one of the bags of weed off your vanity takes a seat on your bed. He shrugs off his jacket to retrieve a pipe from the inner pocket and impatiently extends his hand hurrying you with a quick beckoning gesture.
“Gimme your grinder.”
Rolling your eyes you haphazardly toss it over to him. However, unbeknownst to you, the top was loose and crumbles of kush spilled out of it and onto your bed when he failed to catch it.
“Nice looking out Cho, great catch.”
Even though the poor throw and loose top had been your fault, the fact he apparently couldn’t wait to fucking leave along with you still pissed with how he flirted with Brianna makes you lash out. 
“You fucking serious right now? I’m always lookin’ out for your ungrateful ass.”
Obnoxiously you huff, crossing your arms and turning your head away from him.
Ungrateful? For what!? 
He hadn’t been ‘looking out’ for the last month, he’d been completely ignoring you! 
“Heh, like I didn't just stop you from turning that gouda chick into actual cheese from the way you went at her?”
You press your lips together firmly to keep from cracking a smile at his play on Brianna’s nickname. You’re honestly still salty he had even been around her at all getting so chummy. He’d always talked about how stupid your sorority sisters were, it didn’t make sense why he let her flirt with him like that.
You’re also mad he didn’t at least let you pop her one good time.
“The bitches name is Brie. You should know, you were ‘oh so concerned’ about saving her number and giving her a discount.”
Choso looks at you like you’re an idiot as he shakes his head. He stops packing the bowl to throw you his phone.
“Whose number?”
Frowning, you already know the passcode so you unlock it right away. 
Sure enough there was no Brie nor Brianna in his contact lists. Not even her number showed up when you searched his phone for it in case it was under a completely different alias. 
He’d never even saved it. 
The smug smirk on Choso’s face tells you he knew what she was doing all along and got you all riled up on purpose.
In fact, Choso had recognized Brianna’s ploy immediately. You had previously mentioned something about an annoying n’ bitchy rival. 
Besides, there was no other plausible reason for a dumb sorority bitch like her to be talking to him at all—much less throwing herself at him so aggressively.
“Doesn’t feel good now does it, Prez?”
Your face is on fire and you turn away from Choso totally humiliated. You had played right into his hands.
“Hmph! Don’t get cocky, I wanted a reason to beat her ass anyway.”
You puff your cheeks into a pout that Choso can’t help but to chuckle at, shaking his head at you again. 
You were a huge brat that's for damn sure.
“Well, it certainly looks like you found one.”
You’re quiet finally as you rake over his words in your mind. 
‘I’ve always been looking out for you.’
Not only did he not save Brianna’s number there’s a high probability he just kept you from being kicked out of the entire sorority and maybe school too. Fighting was a huge no-no and you could have gotten expelled. Apparently jealous with rage you were ready to risk it all at that moment without even thinking of the consequences. 
Fuck.
Choso had in fact still been looking out for you—even when you didn’t deserve it. 
Plug!Choso who accepts your silence is a sign of your defeat and after a few minutes you move from your desk to sit next to him on your bed as he finishes grinding and packing the bowl. 
“Brats get greens this time.”
I’m paying a premium for all this shit, I better get greens. 
But you hold in that thought, not wanting to give him any more lip in the moment as you’re the one left licking your wounds this time.
Like a gentleman Choso holds the bowl for you and lights it as you take a hit. He tries not to notice how well your glossed lips are wrapping around the phallic mouthpiece as searingly thick smoke flows into your lungs. 
Damn, this shit was dank as hell. 
You’re doing your best to hold it in but your lungs are burning as you watch Choso take a hit himself. Not being able to keep in your coughs for a second more you’re left signaling at Choso to ‘wait a sec’ when he holds the pipe out back to you.
Fuck, it was even stronger than what you remembered.
“See Prez? True pressure.”
You shrug at him trying to save face although your eyes are watering, already tinting a bright shade of red.
“Uhh duh, I always cough Choso. I’ll still need a few more hits to know for certain.”
Choso rolls his eyes.
You take another hit—a smaller one this time—before slowly falling back onto your bed.  
Your eyes close as your high settles in and you debate on what to say next without fucking things up even more with your slick ass mouth. 
However your concentration is diminishing quickly as your buzz makes your senses overly aware of Choso’s intense body heat radiating off him, your thighs practically touching. 
The weed swirling together with the alcohol in your system makes you all the more sensitive. Your mind floats away as your gaze is hyper focused on how the lean muscles of Choso’s toned back and broad shoulders ripple under the thin black tee he wears.
God, Choso is so sexy. 
Your legs squeeze together to calm the burning in your core just from the thought. You want nothing more than to drag him down to bed with you and melt into his embrace—but there's an invisible force field around him that you can’t reach. 
You’re almost certain he would recoil from you if you tried now. 
There’s a conversation you needed to have first but you didn’t know how to start it without fucking things up even more. 
The result is an awkward silence that uncomfortably settles in the room as Choso finishes the bowl off himself. 
Never one to smoke too much of his own product he’s only indulging now to temper his mood. 
Choso doesn’t know why he’s still here, all good sense in him telling him to take the money and get the hell out. Yet he knows he’s hoping for something–anything–to show him you’ve changed even though all signs so far tonight have been showing him you haven’t.
You’re still cowering away from any accountability and he is determined not to give you an easy out this time. 
And it’s for that exact reason Choso can’t look over at you right now.
Otherwise he’s sure to see your tiny pink top that had started to roll up exposing the glitter adorned skin of your underboob. Or how your slow exhales cause your soft stomach to dip temptingly showing off the pink crystal belly button ring he gave you. 
The sight of your fishnets brushing against one another out of the corner of his eye alone is enough to know he wouldn’t be able resist grasping onto your supple thighs. God how he would relish the way his fingers would indent into them. He wanted to rip those slutty fishnets right off of you so his head could push your skirt up even further on your hips while he drowned himself in your wet cunt—not even stopping when you would cry from overstimulation.
Plug!Choso, who is thankful his distraction at long last comes in the form of the faded gray blue fabric by your pillow. 
“Yo!..Is that my shit?”
Eyes opening wide, you pale upon seeing Choso reach for the crumpled up shirt. Choso unravels the tee to confirm it is in fact his shirt—one of his favorite band tees at that. 
“Oh, is that yours?”
Choso deadpans.
“So you listen to RHCP now?”
“Maybe…” 
You grab it from him and toss it to the side less you break down and confess to him you had slept in it most nights. Not only have you slept in it but you do in fact listen to RHCP now, especially when you workout.
However with this Choso has hit his limit. 
To him you hadn’t changed. 
Could you not even own up to the tiniest of things?
He couldn’t let himself get sucked back into your toxic web, not anymore. The longer he stayed the more likely that was.
“S’all good, Prez. Keep it.”
Choso grabs his jacket.
“Listen, I gotta g–”
“—w-wait!” 
You grab the other end of his jacket. You still find it difficult to find the right words but you had to say something. 
It was now or never.
“W-Wait… ah, at least before you go…l-let me know how Yuji’s game went?”
You meekly ease into the question but see Choso go ridgid at the mention regardless. 
For now he relents and stays seated. Although a few minutes pass before he speaks.
“He won, of course. MVP of the season.”
You smile genuinely at that but Choso isn’t looking at you— too pained by the memories that began to bubble up again like bile in his throat.
“Awe, that's so great! I knew he would! I’m so happy for him.”
Choso grits his teeth as he turns back to you, his anger evident in his entire being as every muscle in him tenses.
“Are you? So that’s how you treat someone you’re happy for? Really?!”
He doesn’t give you the chance to respond.
“Yuji’s a strong kid— much stronger than me. Honestly, I didn’t even think he minded you weren’t there as he was all focus and excitement to play that day—”
You let out a quiet exhale in relief though any consolation you felt was instantly shattered as Choso continued. 
“But when I put him to bed that night. H-He..He’d asked why you weren’t there…He asked if you were gone now like our parents. Yuji wouldn’t believe you’d miss it otherwise.”
Choso struggles to say the last bit and maintain eye contact with you. 
Every moment you gaze into his eyes though was pure torture as you’re racked with even more guilt.
“Choso I–”
“I’m so fuckin’ tired of all your fuckin’ excuses!”
You’re silent. It’s so strange to see him this upset you don’t know what to say.
“I’d ask you if you’d even considered the abandonment issues that kid already carries but you don’t. You don’t fill that fuckin’ superficial lil’ head of yours with anything beyond yourself!”
Finishing what he had to say, Choso gathers up his jacket and backpack, stuffing it full with the stack of cash on the vanity—not even bothering to count it.
Momentarily dumbfounded, you're scrambling from the bed to block his path. 
“C-Come on, Choso! I didn’t want to abandon him or you! I tried to call you and I texted you so much these past few weeks to talk!”
Choso isn’t impressed.
“And not one text actually had the words ‘I’m sorry’ in it. Not that it would have cut it this time.”
You're reduced to silence for the umpteenth time tonight. 
You wreck your brain knowing most of your texts had been focused on baiting him to respond to you but fuck—did you really not even apologize? 
“But I am sorry!”
Choso’s gaze is cold and distant, so foreign in comparison to the warmth you’d taken for granted before.
“Whatever you say, Prez.”
There it is again. You’ve grown to resent the title, the job, everything about it.
“Just stop calling me that, okay?!”
You’re trying hard to fight back the tears that threateningly pool in the corners of your eyes.
“What Prez? Why, it aint all that they cracked it up to be?”
“N-No… it’s n-not… I actually hate it and I hate being here.”
Your voice is hardly above a whisper as you direct your words towards the ground. You didn't want Choso to see your glassy eyes even if he’d noticed the cracks in your voice. 
Plug!Choso who regards you with skepticism but curiosity nonetheless. So at long last you decided to be honest with both him and yourself aloud for the first time.
But it didn’t mean shit if you wouldn’t do something about it.
“Then quit.”
Choso says to you like it’s the most obvious answer in the world as your head snaps up incredulously.
“H-huh? W-What?!”
“You heard me princess— quit.”
Could you really just quit? 
Truthfully, you had never considered it an option. The expectations put on you by your sorority sisters, your parents and the plans you had made for yourself had all led you to the commitments and responsibilities you had now. 
How could you just let them all down by walking away from it all?  
“Choso— I heard you..b-but I can’t, you don’t understand I–”
“—No, I understand better than you do, princess. You spent so much time with me and Yuji because you hate this sorority bullshit, you can’t stand any of these bitches and now you just agreed to be president of your own goddamn misery!”
Reading you for filth, Choso stares at you expectantly but you avoid his gaze.
Your nails suddenly becoming all the more interesting as you fumble with them.  
“–Ight then.”
Choso doesn’t want to argue with you any longer. 
You’re still full of excuses to his disappointment. If you wanted to be something you weren't that badly, then that was your own prerogative he decided as he brushed past you.
“N-No! P-Please, don’t leave Cho!”
There's clear desperation in your voice. You cling to him, burying your head into the middle of his back as your shaky hands weave their way around his midsection. 
Choso is mid-twist on the doorknob. 
He had all intentions of leaving if you still weren't being honest with yourself about things.
Still does. 
Yet his determination is wavering from your hot tears begin to seep through his shirt and trickle down his spine. The warmth of your body—now flattened against his—causes your pert nipples to poke into his back while your delicate fingers wretchedly grasp onto his taunt abs like a lifeline. 
Like you actually needed him in your life.
Fucking hell, you didn’t play fair at all.
But he couldn’t forgive you just to hurt him again and especially not Yuji.
“Let go.”
“No.”
“I said let go!”
“NO!”
Choso easily pries you off of him, spinning you around as your back slams against the door pinning you in place. His hands encircle your arms and extend out fully so he could put some distance between the two of you. 
He couldn’t think straight when you were all over him. 
Your world is a blur and in your crossfaded state you are left with vertigo at the sudden shift of positions. Both you and Choso are left panting at the intensity of it all.
“You don’t listen to anyone do you?! You just do whatever the fuck you want…”
Choso’s face is red with anger and your eyes—already reddened from your high—take on a deeper shade as you are now openly bawling in front of him.
“Tch, why are you the one crying? This is how you want things, right?!”
You shake your head, unable to communicate beyond your pitiful sobs. 
Choso grows more and more frustrated as the guilt he is feeling battles with his more rational mind prompting him to still be angry with you despite your tears. Back and forth his mind races until it all bubbles over and—
“—You don’t think I know I’m not good enough for you!?”
Your teary eyes widen at the sudden admission. 
Choso even startles himself with his own confession he’d been holding in all this time. 
“But not Yuji...He’s already so much better than me! He’s gonna actually be something one day. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.”
Your lip quivers and your pleas are almost unintelligible.
“I-I know…m’s-sorry…m-m’so sorry C-Choso!”
Choso exhales deeply and shoulders slump forward as he releases you, running a hand over his face and back through his raven locks.
You couldn't read his expression but you didn't want him to attempt to leave you again as you close the gap between you, arms encircling him once more.
Choso doesn’t push you away, yet to his credit he doesn't return your embrace either as he’s still torn.
“I-I missed y-you so m-much.”
Cursing the hold you have over him Choso can’t deny he still wants to be with you—but you both were at an impasse.
Nothing good would come from repeating the same cycle again. 
There is no resolution if you still want to keep up a front. 
“P-Please forgive me Cho—I-I love you.”
The sweet proclamation is accentuated by your pillowy lips spreading kisses over his chest while the tips of your fingers slip up his shirt to place feather light scratches at the small of his back. 
Love, eh?
An unexpected revelation dawns on Choso and he is now resolved in what he has to do. 
“Yeah princess, you really love me?” 
Oblivious to the danger edging in his voice, you nod as you continue to coo affectionate words and affirmations into his chest. One of your legs hitches around his as you mold yourself deeper into him thinking he’d finally forgiven you. 
Had he forgiven you though? 
Well, not exactly. 
A devious smirk appears across Choso’s features.
Choso had come to the conclusion that at the end of the day you were simply a terrible people pleaser. 
Your stuck up bratty nature was merely a front of false confidence. 
You tried so hard to become whatever anyone else wanted you to be, you'd lie to yourself and become utterly miserable in your efforts to appease those around you. 
However, Choso knew the version of you he’d gotten when you’d been with him and Yuji had been the real you. 
And he actually did believe you loved him— even if you had just forced yourself to say it in the moment so you could manipulate him into staying.
Sympathetic to your pitiful nature, Choso wouldn’t just abandon you. 
But if you couldn’t do what was best for you, he would make sure you would himself.
⋙ ©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.
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⋙ I'm about halfway through P3, its 5.5k already lol. stick with me though cause pt 3 is the nasty brat taming smut we all are waiting for! if i tagged you here i will tag you again for p3 but im still adding new people to tag list so lmk in comments or reblogs if you'd like to be added. trying to focus to finish this but my adhd might distract me into writing a quick gojo fic but if i do i will finish this right after!
⋙tags: (ps ty for all the sweet comments for those who joined my overall writing tag list yall legit had me in tears ilysm!) @nkogneatho @toji-girl-main @RoyaltyAndRoses @aydene @slowlyshycomputer @bontensbabygirl @yoonjinhusbands @anxious-chick @kashxyou @halosdiary @littlemochabunni @ryomens-vixen @buttercupblu @tonycries @lowkeyremi @strawberrygirl0 @crybaby-herbalist @rintcrous @bomboclakkk @anubisisthebomb @alwaysfreakingout @oeanonyme @chrys23 @spltbtch @uranometrias @officialsimpp @crispycatt @purple-obsidian my-jukebox @peachyharts111 @thedorklingqueen @sugurusprettygirl @scarasw1f3 @kgorethz @c1truswh4re @madaqueue
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justkending · 2 days
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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 5)
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Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)
A/N: I think we are staying on track for this to wrap up within two more chapters, but again, we are both in the dark if that's the case😂 Thank you guys for the love! If you are wanting to be tagged, please send me an ask. It's a lot easier for me to keep track of who's been added and who hasn't :)
_________
Y/N’s POV:
Okay, so maybe I blew up a little more than necessary, but I tried to chill out before he started chasing me, ordering that I didn’t walk away and talk to him. Let a girl try to get a hold of her emotions for a second big guy.
I’ve been anxious all day, waiting to talk to him about some deep seeded trauma, and then he comes and screws up all of it with a simple exception to an invitation. I know he didn’t mean harm by it, but he’s a trained professional. That was not a trained professional response. Plus, stepping out of my normal routine of being a bitch to him to keep him at a distance wasn’t just a switch I could flip.
Again, I could have handled that better, but now my brain is in mission mode, trying to reprogram what this night has set up for us. Considering the invitation was for tonight, it gave me little to no time to prepare.
“What time did she say dinner was?” I shouted from my bedroom, where I was going through our small, hidden arsenal of gadgets Tony had made for us.
“Six,” Bucky replied from his room down the hall.
Great, that was forty-five minutes from now… “Ok, I can do this.” Deciding it was best to keep some bugs on hand in case we could plant them in the house, and we would be planting them, I needed to consider sizes and placements.
“Should we bring over some wine or something?” Bucky’s voice was now in the doorway to my room, but I kept my back to him as I sifted through our tools.
“I made a pie earlier today. We can take that,” I answered absentmindedly.
“Why’d you make a pie?”
“Felt like it,” I shrugged and walked out of the closet with three small wires/ bugs in hand. When I looked up, I saw he had changed into a nicer button-up and was tightening a tie around his collar he hadn't been wearing earlier. “Why are you wearing a tie?” I examined him.
“Same reason you’re wearing a nicer dress. I want to make a good impression,” he shrugged, straightening pieces of his outfit.
“I’m wearing this because we were going to our ‘anniversary dinner,’” I made sure to put the lie in hand quotes. “I had a story that went with it, but this can pass as casual, too,” I motioned to my dress and moved toward him, placing the wires on the bed. “This looks like you’re about to give a sales pitch.”
Without thinking, I pop his collar up and loosen the tie to get rid of it. The whole time I’m focusing on untying it, I ramble about what the plan is for the night.
“I’m going to give you a wire to put wherever you see fit, and I’ll do the other two. I’ll excuse myself to use the bathroom and sneak it where it’s needed. I feel it’s important we look for cameras already in the house in case it’s a setup. We don’t need them having hard proof that we bugged their place. We want to come off as simple yet good assets if we want them to bring us on board for their work,” I struggle with a certain spot on the tie he somehow fixed in an efficient way I’d never seen. “Jesus, were you a sailor in another life? Might as well have knotted it.”
He doesn’t respond, but I get it off in the next two seconds and look at him to see he had been studying me intently as I invaded his space. I see my slip-up, push the tie into his chest, and take a step back.
“Sorry.”
“No problem,” he answers rather calmly, and I look at his eyes, seeing patience there. Always that damn patience. How did he still have it with me even with how I’ve treated him? “Listen-”
“About last night,” I say at the same time, and he seems shocked but gives a single nod to tell me to continue. “I want to say I’m sorry for being all over the place recently. From last night to thirty minutes ago.”
He seems frozen by my apology, and I became anxious enough that I start to word vomit.
“I took some time to think after last night and spent the day stressing, thinking how I was going to talk to you about it because I do want to. I want to get what I can out on the table if you’d be ok with that,” I look up through my lashes, and I see the most subtle turn of his lip as he watches me attentively.
“Are you hinting that there’s a chance I’ll get to see the side of you others are lucky enough to see?” he retorts, grin growing and taking a step closer to me.
His use of the word ‘lucky’ shortcircuits my brain, and all I can do is nod once, slowly, as my answer. He takes another step, and I match it with one back. I feel more vulnrable than I was expecting to.
“You can understand now why having our plans for the night changed made me slightly temperamental.”
“I think slightly may be an understatement.”
“I think you still should choose your words carefully,” I say, tightening my smile. However, it doesn’t shut him down like normal. Instead, he laughs under his breath, and the doorbell rings.
Both of our heads shoot toward the noise, and solemnity takes over the room.
“You don’t think that’s,” Bucky pauses as he turns back to me.
“How often am I wrong?” I take a deep breath in and smooth my dress out as I walk over, pausing beside him. “Hide the wires. I already did a sweep of the house while you were getting ready to make sure we didn’t have anything out of place. I’ll tell them you’re getting ready.”
I don’t need to open the door to know who it is, but when I do, the urge to yell, “I told you so!” in Bucky’s face is strong.
“Bethanne!” I smile kindly and immediately notice the dish in her hand. Reggie is behind her, holding two others, looking like he just got off work and had been dragged over here. “Did Beau tell me wrong? Are we not eating at y’all’s house tonight?”
She scrunches her face in a practiced motion and lifts the ceramic bowl up as she explains.
“I hate to ask this of you, but our oven is still the old rickety one. The new one had some faulty design, and we had to ship it back. Needless to say, it decided to give out on us today of all days,” she raised her shoulders. “I know we sprung the dinner on you suddenly, but would you two be willing to host if we provide the food?”
Not on the money of what I guessed, but pretty fucking close to the money if you ask me.
“Who is it, Doll?” Bucky’s voice carries from the hallway he’s now emerging from. The first three buttons on his dress shirt are undone, and he’s messing with the cuffs on the sleeves. “Hey, Bauers,” he smiles yet still holds shock in his features by the neighbor's appearance. “Did we get the time wrong?” he asks, looking at his watch before coming to my side, where I've now moved and am letting themselves in.
“No, no, no,” Bethanne shakes her head and hands off one of the pots to me as she takes one from Reggie, who looks more bothered to be here than happy. Long day human trafficking, asshole? “We had some appliance issues thanks to some of the renovations we were doing. I was just asking your wife if we can use your house as tonight's setting and possibly use your oven while here.”
Without hesitance, Bucky takes the dish from my hands and the dish Bethanne had swapped for and nods for Reggie to follow him.
“No problem at all. Let me help you ladies with that. Char," A nickname he had never used for my character before, but it seemed to work fluently. "Would you like to get some wine for the two of you while I get this organized in the kitchen?” he asks me, placing a kiss on the side of my head while his hands are full as he walks towards the other room.
I don’t know how he’s learned to play his role so well, but it’s convincing, even to me.
“Uh, yeah,” I almost stutter in my response as I motion for Bethanne to follow me to the wine cooler out in the garage. “Red or white with tonight's dish?”
"Do you have any more husbands like that in the back I can steal? What a gentleman," she coos, shoulder-bumping me.
___________
Half an hour of baking the food and getting it plated, and our conversation continued with questions mostly strictly about us, which would have been fine if not for the reason behind such invasive intentions.
They started off simple. How’d you guys meet? Who made the first move? What did we love about the town so far? What kind of hobbies and adventures did we take on before moving here? All questions we had prepared for, and if not, could easily improvise.
So far. No slip-ups. If anything, we sold the scheme far better than I’d imagined we would even when they became more personal. And our discussion on being the ‘prude couple’ last night seemed to affect Bucky’s actions a lot more than I was expecting.
An obvious hand on my thigh under the table and an arm thrown over my seat in a slightly possessive manner seemed to catch the eye of Reggie, who mimicked some of the moves as if it were a competition.
In addition, Bucky kept making small compliments about how I looked and how smart I was when they asked about my job. Dropping little comments about things I did (not my character) that he loved and appreciated.
“She’s always doing things like that. I almost never have to worry about making coffee in the morning because she has it all set up just to hit a button and go.”
“You should ask Charlotte about that! She’s the reason our house looks like a home. I’m sure she could give some advice on the kitchen backsplash.”
“She may not know how to boil an egg correctly, but her baking skills are unmatched. I've put on a few pounds now that we have a nice kitchen to spend time in."
I did my best not to act shocked every time he dropped a compliment, but the fact he could have made shit up for my character and used those details as conversation pieces, yet he went the honest way (although more convincing, of course), shocked me.
“Speaking of baking skills,” Reggie nodded his head back to the kitchen counter behind us and smiled at me. “I spied a pie on the counter. Any chance we can have that to finish off this dinner?”
I was still staring at Bucky from his last form of appreciation when I blinked out of my distraction and returned to our neighbor.
“Oh, of course! I was just about to offer,” I smiled, standing up, and Bucky quickly stood next to me, pulling my chair out. “Thank you.” I smiled at him and placed a hand on his arm as I moved around to the counter.
“How sweet. Oh, Charlotte, would you mind telling me where the bathroom is?” Bethanne asked, standing and giving her husband a look for not showing the same chivalry as Bucky.
I watched her, knowing that I would have used the same excuse to do what we planned to at their house. But I was two steps ahead of her.
“Of course! Beau, do me a favor and get some plates out for dessert. I’m going to show Beth-”
“Oh, I’m sure I can find it,” she waved off, coming around the table and moving to the hall promptly.
Yeah… Not without a chauffeur, honey.
“No problem,” I waved off, moving with her casually. “I need to grab some floss from my bathroom before dessert. I’ll show you to it.”
I can see the most subtle glaze of annoyance at my insistence, but she smiles and walks a step ahead of me.
I show her to the bathroom and make it seem I’m going into the master down the hall while she’s in there. And I do, but I keep an eye to make sure she isn’t snooping in any other room besides the one. We’ll have to survey it after they leave, but better that and the dining room than the whole house.
Once we’re back with the boys, no wandering to be done, Bucky helps me plate a slice of chocolate pie for each of us, and I offer to move the conversation to the porch. Any kind of redirection from the comfort of the inside of our home is welcome.
“I love how you’ve decorated your porch. It’s so cozy,” Bethanne notices, pointing out the colorful decorative pillows, hanging swing the size of a daybed, and loads of plants and decor that make the space more intimate. She and Reggie are sat on the two rocking chairs facing the front yard, and Bucky and I are sat close together on the swing, where he’s controlling the tempo we sway in.
“I always wanted a spot outside to escape. We didn’t really have that at our last home, and it was important for me to have this time around,” I replied.
My answer is actually very true. I loved being outside, especially when it was something as simple as sitting in the backyard or swinging on a porch. I had one requirement about this mission, one I’m not even sure Bucky knew about. But I asked Tony to supply a nice budget for the porch.
Call it cheesy, but growing up in such an unnatural and dehumanizing way, you crave a small part of that normalcy you see on the movie screens. For some reason, a porch I could escape on but still be within the comfort of my own home was a dream. And because it was, I thought I’d make this situation a little more bearable by granting that small wish I always had.
“Well, I may have to start budgeting for a new kind of renovation,” she patted Reggie’s back, and he gave her a tight-lip smile. "What do you say, Reg? Do you think we can get a swing like that one?” She smiled over at us just as Bucky pulled me into his side, his arm going around my waist and his hand resting on my hip bone.
“I have a feeling we might as well have built a home from scratch by the time you’re happy with the renovations we’ve taken on,” Reggie answered with a nod before taking a swig from his beer. “Get that recipe for the pie from Charlotte, and I’ll consider buying you a new porch,” he winked my way and turned back to the front of our lawn.
I instantly found Bucky’s hand tightening, and his thumb started rubbing in an up-and-down pattern along my hip. When I turned to him slightly, his gaze stayed on Reggie.
Before finishing cleaning up for the night, we said goodbye to our guests, and just when we thought we hadn’t made any headway in our conversation about work (mind you, we had dropped hints and notices about it all night, but neither of the two seemed to take the bait), Reggie stopped on the last step to our porch and turned to Bucky.
“You mentioned working in transportation, and by the sounds of your new job up here, if you’re interested in a more innovative place, I may have some ins for you,” he shook Bucky’s hand. “I have some coworkers around the states that could use some employees like you on their route.”
“I may take you up on that offer. It all depends on how this week rolls out,” Bucky answered perfectly. The Bauers said their goodbyes, and we watched them walk home before turning to each other.
In a silent celebration, we grinned at the invitation and then sent wordless glances to tread carefully when we got in before scoping the place for bugs…
_______________
Bucky’s POV:
I’m not surprised that the blonde sole cycle instructor of a neighbor was able to get a wire in our bathroom, but neither Y/N nor I were in the mood to remove it right away and give away our knowledge of it, so we each grabbed another drink for the night and debriefed subtly on the porch where the only bugs we had to mind were the crickets chirping their music for the night.
Bethanne was right. Our porch was nicely done, and I hadn’t even noticed Y/N had hung lights out here until she plugged them in.
“I feel like this spot is more put together than the rest of the house.” I noticed the details when we were out here earlier. Now, we both have taken up spots in the rocking chairs our neighbors had vacated.
“I may have focused more of my attention on this spot than the others,” she smiled as she brought a tumbler glass up to her lips. She had drank wine while Bethanne was here, but as soon as they were gone, the whiskey I had made a glass for myself was stolen out of my hand before I could take a sip. Now, we had each of our own.
“Was what you said about the porch a real thing? I mean, we have balconies at the compound,” I looked at her as I sat my drink on the small table between us.
“Balconies and porches aren’t the same. At least in my head, they aren’t,” she nodded, taking a deep sigh and resting her glass in her lap. “Did you mean what you said when you were complimenting me all night?” She lulled her head to the side to look at me.
I had been making compliments. It felt easier to use the ones I had picked up on than the ones I made up. Yet again, I think anyone should get the recognition they deserve when they excel in something. Y/N just tended to excel in more than I think she was aware of. And I was learning she didn’t seem to be used to people taking note of those things.
“Why lie?” I shrugged, starting to rock in a steady pattern.
“Because that’s this whole gig. A lie,” she answered, taking another pull of the hard liquor.
I considered her perspective and shook my head, looking out to the lights on the other side of the street. “I guess it gets tiring at points. Don’t really feel like doing it if the truth can be just as usable.”
She didn’t answer for quite a few seconds, and when I turned back to her, she was staring at me like she was waiting for another shoe to drop.
“How are you so patient? Seriously, is it a drug Tony made you before you had to deal with me on this mission? I don’t get it,” she laughs, but I can hear the genuine confusion in it as she sits forward and turns her body to me.
Honesty. I’m in a mood to be 100% honest.
“Want me to be real with you?” I asked, turning my own body.
“It’d be preferred,” she nods and rests both her arms on the armrest.
“I don’t know anything about your past, but I know most people have a reason for acting the way they do. It took years and a ton of patience before I felt like I was even close to who I used to be. I still struggle to come to terms with the fact I’ll never be who I was before the train incident,” I sigh and rest my head back against the chair as I look at her. “I guess I have understanding more than patience. I understand that you have a history of your own that I don’t know, and I can’t blame you for a lot of the things you do.”
“But you should. I’m an asshole to you,” she says, and the admission is kinda nice to hear, even if it is sad.
“Yeah, and I was hoping you’d be willing to share why that is,” I reply calmly.
She tenses some and sits back in her chair, pulling her legs under her to sit crisscrossed, the chair rocking with her movement and her dress overflowing past her knees.
“I guess now is as good a time as ever…” She looked at me sidelong before finding comfort in the view in front of her instead. “I didn’t really have a chance to develop a personality of my own because of my time in this lifestyle,” she motions around her, “started as soon as I could walk. So I had no identity to fall back on since I had to find it after I escaped.”
I had questions, but I found it best just to listen. Clearly, what she was talking about wasn’t something she brought up lightly, and being an ear to listen was what she needed right now.
“I was left behind by whichever no-good parent gave me up, and Adonis Hummel took me as his own and decided he’d try to recreate the famous assassin, The Winter Solider, from birth practically.”
The name drop came quickly and struck home. I didn’t know her whole story, but I had enough imagination and experience to believe where she was going.
“Wait, Hummel?” I started because the name sounded familiar, but…
“He was a low-level scientist who worked for Hydra when they were still using you under Pierce. He thought he had the brains and resources to create his own version of you. A version that would be more undetectable as a woman and a version he could tweak however he wanted,” she rolled her shoulders. “Lucky for him, I didn’t have to be brainwashed since I knew nothing besides the life of abuse, experimentation, and a shit ton of conditioning... " 
"To clarify, I say that for context, not sympathy,” she straightened, and I could see her shifting back to her unbothered disposition, but the truth was shining through the cracks. She may not have wanted sympathy, but something about the vulnerability seemed to lighten the load on her shoulders.
“As for why I may have built a wall around you, an unhealthy and senile wall, I felt as though…” She gulped as if the next part was harder for her to say than the abuse of her past. “I felt as though you had been my competition my whole life, and a part of me, a young and in-need-of-therapy part of me, thought it was best to keep you as far away as possible and hold onto that anger instead of work through it. It felt easier than facing the fear that I didn’t actually equate to you in any way. So that’s another reason why I felt everything with you was to prove a point.” She lets out a short breath after using all the air in her lungs in one swift swoop.
I-
It’s a lot to take in…
She doesn’t move her head back towards me after her confession, and I can’t seem to break my stare from her.
“This is where you say something like, ‘Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m actually an asshole either way, so we can go on hating each other for completely understandable reasons!’ or I don’t know? Anything but silence would be preferred, though…”
Her hand is gripping the arm rest unconsciously like an anchor keeping her on earth.
On instinct, I reach across and pull her hand into mine, keeping my stare heavy, enticing her to look at me.
She closes her eyes at first and takes another short breath before turning.
“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel unworthy of being on the team.” I feel like I personally am the reason for her suffering, even if I had no correlation with her before I joined the team. "You are more than an asset to the team and are your own kind of weapon. It's incomparable."
“Ugh,” she sniffles and rubs an eye with the heel of her free hand as if to disguise a possible tear as allergies. “This would be so much easier if you were a piece of shit misogynistic asshole, but you're part of the few good ones out there. Steve, Sam, and Clint included, not Tony,” she noted.
I smiled, thinking about how I’d make a team like that even if she had me believe otherwise for so long.
“What I’m trying to get at, B, is you’re not the one I should be blaming for my past. You’re just as much a victim as I am, but I took the easy way out of making it more manageable for me, and I only made it harder for us both in the end. And for that,” she turned and stared into my eyes fully, the hand she held squeezing my own. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve an ounce of the kind of cruelness I tried to bury you in. You are the opposite of what they tried to make you, and you’re genuine in proving that to anyone who meets you. I've been envious of the strength you have, and I can say confidently that I deeply regret ever blaming you for that.”
I once again have to process yet another collection of words I’d never thought I hear. From her. Ever. A part of me believed this was a dream, but the part that Y/N had a grip on was practically pinching me into reality.
Without hesitating, I stood up, pulled her arm up with me, and yanked her into my body in a crushing hug.
She froze at first… The motion was quick and surprising, but slowly, she unhooked our hands, brought both of hers tightly around my waist, and laid into me. I rested my head on top of hers and pulled her shoulders in with my arms, wrapping both of my own tightly around her.
I wasn’t going to let go until she did, and by the looks of it… She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.
Marvel Tags:
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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:
@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @learisa @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim @lovelybaka @heletsmelovehim @bubblegumbeautyqueen @mostlymarvelgirl @that-d-bitch @rabbitrabbit12321
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queerpdsys · 3 months
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no way i just saw a system shaming other systems for being upset when their friends refuse to acknowledge other alters & only use the body/host’s name and pronouns for them….
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strawhbrrries · 7 months
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Love and Lust
pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader
summary:
warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, oral (m receiving), creampie??, female pronouns, whiny mike, whiny reader, switch!mike??, teasing, overstim, hair pulling, nipple pinching, not proofread, porn with no plot
word count: 1.3k words
author’s note: this isn't as needy n whiny as I originally hoped so I hope you guys can forgive me!!! please send requests for what you'd like to see next! very dedicated to @mfdxz because queen has been WAITING for this one
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“Please.” He whined in your ear, licking and sucking at any of the skin on your neck that he could reach. “I need you, now.”
“I’m trying, I can’t get your stupid belt unbuckled.” You whined back, sitting up from your position on top of him to try and see the belt buckle better.
“Baby, I am going to cum in my pants if you don’t hurry up.” He relaxed his head against the pillows that lined the headboard, chest rising rapidly as he tried to regulate his breathing. 
On normal days when Abby was home you tried to avoid doing anything sexual, but the second Mike had gotten home the atmosphere shifted. He came up behind you in the kitchen, pressing your ass against the hard-on raging in his jeans, trying to slide his hand under the waistband of your sweats. His fingers made it as far as touching your clit before Abby stumbled in asking for more dinner, a small groan only loud enough for the two of you came out.
The clink of the buckle hitting the floor dissipated any frustration you had, your fingers immediately unzipped his jeans and threw them off somewhere on the floor. Today was one of the few days he’d chosen to go commando, both of you were now appreciating this.
You went back to straddling his waist, grinding down against his cock, your wetness causing your underwear to conform to your folds as you slid his cock between them. His breath hitched at the feeling, he turned his head to the side in an attempt to cover his mouth. 
“Fuck, baby..” Mike groaned, thrusting his hips upwards in an attempt to create more friction.
“Feel good, Mikey?” You teased, moving down his body to sit in between his legs.
“Baby..” Is all he could muster in response, anything else was lost the second you put the tip of his cock in your mouth.
The feeling of him in your mouth, hard and leaking from the need to fuck you, caused a moan to vibrate around him. He tried to close his legs at the feeling, you hadn’t even done anything and yet it was all too much already. Your hands pushed them back open, taking his cock as far as it could go, your nose was pressing against his pubic bone. You hollowed your cheeks as you pulled off of him, using your tongue to swirl around it as you went.
You climbed back up his body, straddling his waist yet again, and placing your lips against his. The kiss was needy and messy, strings of saliva connecting your chins together. His fingers found your hair, entangling themselves at the base and pulling your head back. He needed you, and he was tired of letting you have that control.
“I said, I needed you, now.” He grunted, nipping at your exposed collarbone.
Mike lifted your shirt and threw it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor, latching onto one of your nipples and rolling the other in between his fingers. You threw your head back at the sensation, trying to hold yourself up against him in an attempt to keep control. Any ounce of control that you had left disappeared when your hair was yanked backwards, causing a loud whimper to leave your mouth and Mike to slap a hand over it. 
The sound of Abby shuffling around in her room stopped the two of you in your tracks, the soft padding of her footsteps passed by the bedroom door. You exchanged a look, it was past her bedtime, and he was off to go check on her. Nights when Abby left her room after her initial bedtime meant she’d be more likely to leave more times throughout the night, sometimes she just wasn’t tired and sometimes she just couldn’t sleep, it’s how she worked.
You heard the two of them exchanging muffled words quickly followed by their footsteps back into her room. To save time, in the chance Abby did leave her room again, you threw your underwear into the pile on the floor.
“She needed water.” He mumbled, closing the door and locking it behind him, throwing off the sweats he’d put on in a hurry. 
The bed dipped as he climbed up you, kissing his way up your body. His fingers slid between your folds, collecting your wetness and bringing the fingers to your mouth. He tapped your lips, an indicator that he wanted you to open your mouth, and slid his fingers in when you opened them.
“How do you taste, sweet girl? Let me taste.” Mike removed his fingers from your mouth and leaned closer to kiss you, swirling his tongue around yours. “Fuuuck.”
Two fingers swirled at your entrance, pushing in slightly as his other hand covered your mouth just in case. He curled his fingers, brushing against the soft, spongy spot inside of you. Your body jerked against him, whining against his hand. 
“Shhh, I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He whispered in your ear, a low groan following behind it as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock.
The stretch was wonderful, stinging slightly at the lack of prep but an oh so delicious sting. A small whine escaped his throat, hips stuttering slightly at the feeling of your warm cunt stretching around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying to keep himself quiet and to stop himself from cumming so soon. There was just something about having to be quiet and the dire need to fuck you into the mattress was sending him into a spiral, his eyes were just as glazed over as yours were.
His hips thrusted in and out, fingers fumbling around your chest as he searched for your nipples. You brought your hands to your mouth, despite most of your moans and whines getting caught in your throat every time his hips pushed back in, the chance of being caught bringing an overwhelming sense of excitement.
“Baby, fuuck…baby.” Mike moaned, splaying one hand on your stomach and bringing the other to his mouth. 
He was holding on by a thread, orgasm threatening to spill all over your insides with every thrust, he’d been waiting for this all day and now that it was finally here he couldn’t even hold on. 
“I need to cum..” He whined, leaning over so your knees were against your chest and his mouth was by your ear.
“Inside..” You managed to choke out, keeping one hand on your mouth and digging the other into the skin of his bicep, small moon shaped indents appearing.
After you finished your one word sentence he painted your insides with a low groan, sweaty forehead laying itself in the crook of your neck as he continued to thrust in and out. The over-stimulation was too much but he was determined to get you off, he slithered a hand between your bodies. He drew figure eights over your clit as he continued his thrusting, sucking and licking at the skin of your neck.
“Mikey…Mikey..” Your words were breathy and almost inaudible, all you could think, hear, smell, taste was just Mike.
He was overwhelming your senses in the best way and all you wanted was to live in this blissful state forever, full of him. One more thrust had your mind reeling, body shaking, sharp white pleasure searing through your veins as your orgasm ripped through you. He slapped another hand over your mouth, continuing his thrusts to help work you through your orgasm.
“Mike? What are you doing to her?” Abby asked innocently, standing at the open door that didn’t latch when he thought he locked it.
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sillyblues · 11 months
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𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you overhear a couple of spider-people talking about you and miguel
ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by a scene of a drama i saw in tiktok at 11:30 pm whoops here’s a small scenario while i work on that hiding pregnancy with miguel fic
part 2
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You hummed to yourself as you walked towards Miguel’s room. You were so excited to talk to him about how your days went and if you were lucky, maybe you’d get to hear how his day went as well. It wasn’t like he doesn’t talk about himself, of course he does, you two were practically the bestest of friends now. It’s just that nowadays, he seemed more stressed and preferred to listen to you talk. Or at least you hoped so. He never really complained each time you rambled his ears off (which was like 83790134 times a day oops).
But a mention of your name in a hushed conversation stops your tracks.
“... [Name] is pretty close to Miguel, huh?” the conversation was actually a bit far from where you stood but thanks to your extreme superhearing, you were able to hear what they were talking about. You tilted your head. I wonder why they’re talking about me…
“Nah, I don’t think so. Miguel doesn’t even seem to like them.” You grumbled under your breath. That’s just what it looked like to others. They didn’t know that you know Miguel’s favourite empanadas are the ones sold by a Mexican granny on a stand right around the corner outside the building. They didn’t know that Miguel actually remembers what you say to him and even reacts to your stories. If that isn’t what you call friends in their natural behaviour, you don’t know what to call it.
“Yeah, it’s probably because they never stop talking. Their mouth just never know how to close for at least 10 minutes.”
“Miguel is probably annoyed at them. I wonder how he manages to keep his patience from running out with them.”
You bit your lip. Yeah, they were right…You admit that you talk a lot and you do feel a bit bad about it. But your friends haven’t told you to stop talking or that you were bothering them yet so you thought it was fine with them. If your friends said something about it, you would definitely stop and try to talk less for them. You were sure your friends would say something if they were uncomfortable, especially Miguel. You believe in them and you believe in him.
“I know right! If I was him, I would…” so you took a step forward and continued to walk towards your destination. Only this time, you weren’t humming.
.
.
.
“Hi, Miguel! Good afternoon! Such a lovely day, isn’t it?” you quirked up immediately as soon as you stepped foot into his office. As usual, he was on top of his floating station. Most of the time, he worked on planning and storing files with Lyla about which planets had been reported with anomalies. Sometimes, he watched videos of his daughter Gabriella and himself despite having already seen them countless times.
Miguel was lonely. You could see that. Sure, he had Jess and Hobie and Peter, but Jess was pregnant, Hobie was busy fighting against the government and being cool, and Peter had Mayday. You try your best to be with him because maybe he would feel less lonely with you around for him. Maybe he would be distracted by whatever you say from his exhaustion and his pain.
You swung yourself and landed on his platform. He was standing with multiple yellow screens hovered almost around him. His hands were on his waist and there was a glare on his face as he stared at it. He gave you a brief glance before turning his attention back to his work. Well, looks like today is a busy work day for him, huh. 
“Hey booo,” Lyla appeared in front of you and waved. You grinned at her. “Hey, Lyla! What’s up?”
“Ugh nothing much, except for Mr. O’hara on his red flood apparently.” She leaned and covered the side of her lips to whisper but it was no use to the said person with his abilities.
“I heard that.” His exasperated response was instant but he didn’t look away from the screen.
“Really? You did?” She asked with a higher and tightened voice with amusement. She then flashed a quick message to you. 
Miguel has been working even after you left three days ago. He wouldn’t take a rest no matter how many times I told him.
What? You looked at the back of his head in alarm. Worry immediately settled in your head and you furrowed your brows. Before you could convince him to stop, Lyla quickly made the message disappear and announced, “Oops, my power is running low. Gotta charge them now, byeeee.”
“I literally just checked your levels yesterday. Come back here—” he was cut off by her disappearing form.
He groaned and in his frustration, he swapped away the nearby items on the table. Most of them were papers but unfortunately, he didn’t notice he also swept away the teddy bear that you gifted him. It was similar to one Gabriella had and you knew this from the videos you watched with him. You thought how nice it would be to have at least a physical reminder of your love and not just ones you can see and hear. 
“I’ll get it, don’t worry!”
From his strength, the bear was flung high and without even thinking you walked backwards as you focused on its direction. You were being stupid because you forgot that you were on top of a floating platform and the floor wasn’t endless. The bear was almost near within your reach and with just one more step, you would be able to get it.
That one more step didn’t step on any solid floor but instead on air and so, you fell but not without the teddy bear in your hands. 
“[Name]!” Miguel shouted and you looked at him and finally, he was looking at you now. He ran at your falling figure with arms reaching out to you and for a second, you thought there was a tinge of panic and desperation laced in his hoarse voice and wide eyes. 
Sticky web was shot at your chest and you were quickly pulled towards him. You were hit against his figure and he caught you in his arms. You stilled and flushed, your ear was pressed against his chest and you could hear his roaring heart that beat so fast. He immediately shook you by your shoulders and yelled at you. “What were you thinking? Why weren’t you looking?”
“I mean, I was trying to catch it—” you flinched.
“Are you stupid? ¿y si te lastimas?” his nails were digging into your skin and his grip was beginning to hurt. You tried to laugh but came it off weakly.
“I just don’t want to see my gift get dirty. Besides, I’m fine—,” you tried to joke, hoping it would ease the tension and calm him down.
“Just shut up! Shut up!” he pushed you away with a growl, “Stop being so fucking reckless. I could have done it by myself. Stop annoying other people by doing stupid shit like this!”
He was breathing heavily, anger so deep in his eyes. Your eyes were wide and tears threatened to fall as you listened until it finally fell once he said his final word. Maybe the realization had finally settled in Miguel’s mind at what he had just said. His eyes widened in panic and reached out to you but you took a step back.
Your head hung low as you let his words sink in. Annoying? You couldn't even laugh bitterly like you usually do in situations like this. They were right. You were annoying him. You bit your lip. Had you been a bother to him all this time? How come Miguel never said anything?
Suddenly, his cold indifference to you was so clear and obvious now. Memories of him visibly annoyed with a frown flashed through your head. The sudden awareness made your head hurt and it burned your heart. It throbbed with a pang and you felt incapable of breathing, the pain overwhelming.
No, Miguel wasn't responsible for telling you this. You should've known better, you called yourself his “bestest friend”. You shouldn't have talked to him. You shouldn't have approached him in the first place.
You were annoying. You were a nuisance. You were a problem.
Stupid. Stupidstupidstupidstupid—
“[Name], I,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn't mean—”
“No, it's fine,” you wiped your tears and pressed the teddy bear you gifted him and wanted to catch for him. You wonder if this bear was also a bother for him. Maybe it was. Everything related to you is irritating. You were tiresome. “I should be the one to say that. I’m sorry.”
“I need to go now. I’m really sorry, again.” With a brief glance at him, you immediately turned around and swung down. You almost ran as you made your exit from his office. You did the know where exactly to go, only anywhere without him and far away from him. Strength had left you once you were outside his office and you walked and walked and walked. 
Maybe if you left, nobody would find you annoying anymore.
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getosbigballsack · 2 months
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Random Thought! Geto's is jealous because Gojo had sex with you.
Ps: I wrote this as one of the drafts for @noroi1000 , but I never liked it for her, so I scraped it and wrote something completely different.
Nothing hurts more than finding out that your best friend broke the “bro code” just to have his stupid fantasies fulfilled. That’s how Geto Suguru felt when he caught his best friend Gojo Satoru having sex with you.
He promised, they both promised not to have romantic feelings for you or to be in any form of sexual intimate relationship with you. Why? Simply because you’re also their best friend and you know that they have a track record of being whores since high school. 
So Geto thought it would’ve been best to keep you out of that part of their lives. And even if they both had feelings for you, it would be best to love you from afar, rather than to be selfish only to end up hurting you in the end. 
But I guess those were false promises coming from the lying lips of Gojo. Those same lying lips he saw stealing kisses whenever Gojo thought that he wasn’t looking. Those same lying lips that decorates your neck with nothing but love bites, those same lying lips he saw eating you up on the bed, the night he caught Gojo having sex with you.
He can still remember the sound of your voice cursing Gojo’s name, moaning so sweetly for Gojo as the white haired man eats you out as though you were going to be the last meal for a long time.
Call him a pervert for standing at the door for as long as he did, watching the sight unfold before him. Gojo’s hand sliding up your shirt, tweaking your nipples, pinching the pebbled bud to have you arching your back into Gojo’s hand.
Those dainty little hands of yours that would so often braid his hair were now grabbing Gojo’s hair and scraping at Gojo’s scalp. He knew how soft your hand was, so he could only imagine the sheer amount of pleasure it feels to have his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
None of you were aware that he saw that night, but you’ve both noticed how cold he was towards Gojo and how distant he became with you. 
You tried asking him, you did tried, but all you ever get in response was the light shrug in his shoulders before turning and leaving you to go fuck off with one of his many one night stands. It didn’t bother you that much that he would leave you for a hookup. At this point, you were used to it.
But it did bother you very much whenever he was in a mood with you, and you had no clue what made him that way. Unlike you, though, Gojo had an idea as to why Geto was cold towards him, but he kept it to himself, in fear that he could have been wrong. 
Weeks turned into two months since Geto had found out that Gojo broke the ‘bro code’ and slept with you, and his behavior towards you both has not changed one bit. If anything, he was even more cold towards Gojo, and Geto would just completely ignore your presence despite the three of you sharing an apartment together. 
Though it still hurts that your best friend stopped talking to you. You’ve learned how to deal with it and just stayed focused on your relationship with Gojo. You guys weren’t dating as yet, and you are still having a bit of fun and going on dates. Gojo would buy you gifts, flowers, and lots of tasty food. He’ll take you out during the day when Geto wasn’t home and spend a night or two with you between the sheets in a hotel. 
Gojo was having a great time with you, too. Breaking that so-called promise with his best friend has done him now better than harm. He was happy to be around someone who genuinely had strong intimate feelings for him. It made him feel thing he had never felt before, and fuck everyone else, Geto too because he’d be damn if he allowed anything to ruin what you both had going on. 
It was only a matter of time before Gojo officially made you his girlfriend. He was just waiting for the right moment. 
That moment is when Geto decides to cut the crap and speak his mind. 
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eupheme · 1 month
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— on the fence [into the fire, part ii]
part i | masterlist
cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader
rated e - 3.8k
tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, restraints, sex for favors, oral (m), exhibitionism, spanking, biting, hair pulling, light choking, sub/dom elements, PiV, irradiated creampie
a/n: hi! I had a couple ideas I wanted to explore, which turned into a mini-series. I have them all mapped out & I hope to have them up for you soon! 💖
“Why don’t you show me again,” He husks, “What you’re so good at.”
Your breath catches - eyes flicking warily towards the door, but he’s quick to call you back.
“Hey, now. Eyes over here.” The Ghoul snaps, “You need to worry ‘bout me more than anyone out there.”
(Or - the Ghoul gets you out of your Vault Suit.)
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You’re not sure you like the look of this town.
It sprawls wide and low across the desert, the inhabitants gathering in the shadows to escape glare of the sun. A low buzzing murmur that carries with you through the streets.
It feels suffocating, after the open miles before.
Following the dark figure of Ghoul, as you wind through the streets. Partly because you have to - that leash still pulled tight, wrapped around a fist.
Partly because you want to stick close, always.
“-don’t need you slowing me down.” The Ghoul gives the rope a yank, and you scowl, “You get hurt doing some stupid shit, and I’m leavin’ you behind.”
Your frown softens. His words still just as harsh, snarled out. But they’re a far cry from before.
Before, when you were certain he was going to hand you right back over to your Vault, in spite of how far you’ve come. Something significant passing in the journey through the desert, as he had taken what you wanted.
The taste of him has since faded, but he still lingers.
“Gotta earn your keep, too.” His head turns, eyeing you from beneath the brim of hat, “You good at anythin’?”
Unable to help it, you smirk - a brow raising. He scoffs in response, eyes narrowing.
“Anyone can be good at suckin’ cock, sweetheart.” He drawls, unimpressed, “’m not so bad at it, myself.”
Your lips part in surprise and he’s the one that grins, now.
The Ghoul picks up another bounty here. A shady, alley-way deal - keeping you close to his heels as he snatches the faded paper contact off a tattered board.
Running into another pair looking for jobs - a fresh scar splitting across the nose of a man who tries to start a conversation, before quickly retreating.
“Fuckin’ amateurs” muttered in reply to your heavy, silent judgement.
The client is tracked down for more information, after. Wasn’t hard to find the man with cage over the lower half of his face. Spikes that scream Raider with the way they jut through his clothes.
Fifty caps for the “goddamn no-good thief” that wiped out his stall in the night, taking every last bullet and can of cram. Last seen about two days ago, heading north.
Dead or alive, the client doesn’t care.
“Did you see ‘em?” The Ghoul frowns, “What they look like? Give me somethin’ to go off of.”
“Course I did,” The man huffs, “Looks just like me, don’t he? He’s my own damn brother.”
You can’t contain your own sideways look in disbelief, only to see The Ghoul returning it.
He bargains for a hundred, and gets it.
It’s hard not to wonder if he had taken your bounty this way. If your face had been scrawled across a piece of paper. Exchanged in a no-nonsense, disconnected way.
How much had your life been worth?
You never asked him. It’s something you’re not sure you even want to know.
The rest of the afternoon is spent stocking up. Caps exchanged for some more ammo. A couple bottles of watery chems, shoved deep in his bag to join the others.
A way the ease the cough that rattles him every few days. The smallest bottle kept out, wrenched open with a tight fist.
It snags at you - the way he swallows it like ambrosia the second he steps away. Gasping and groaning as if it’s air he needs to breathe.
“I’m good at medicine,” You tell his back - following again. Memories of the Vault pushing their way to the surface, “Could make that for you, if we find the stuff. Wouldn’t have to dilute it.” You almost run into him, with the way he’s gone still. The tilt of his head, a single sharp eye piercing through you under the brim of a hat.
Shifting over your shoulder. Narrowing.
His hand fists in the collar of your jumpsuit instead, hauling you down the nearest alley and into the shadows.
“Hey!” You protest, your back knocked against the wall. He cages you in, knuckles pressing into your jaw with his tight grip.
The vial is pinched between his fingers, dangled in front of your face.
“You can make this?” He confirms.
You’re able to confirm it now, never quite getting a good look before. RadAway. It would be simple, compared to some of the stuff you’d had to cook up.
“Get me to a lab, some supplies,” You nod, “And I will.”
“Huh.” He’s close - you can’t help squirming in his grip, as he considers you, “Ain’t that something.”
A second, before his grip eases - but he doesn’t let go. Your bound fists rest against his chest, but there’s no force behind them to drive him off.
“Could’ve just asked.” You huff, “You don’t have to man-handle me.”
He almost smiles - his voice coming low, with a tilt of his head.
“Don’t I?”
It flusters you, how his body presses against yours. Your heartbeat kicking up a notch, your chest brushing his with each short breath.
His thumb sweeps, ghosting against your skin. Those sunken eyes dropping to your collar, with a frown.
Another glance down the aisle, before they’re dragging over you - voice lowering.
“Need to get you out of this suit.”
His words make stiffen in his arms, a sharp inhale of anticipation.
“Not so smart, are you?” He husks, his gaze dragging from your parted lips, up to your eyes, “Runnin’ around like this. Downright advertising you’re a Vaultie, when someone’s lookin’ for you.”
He’s not wrong. He tracked you down easily enough. You nod is small, a pang of regret as his fingers drop - as he steps away.
“Come on, then. I know a place.”
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The place is an old saloon, the windows blasted out over two centuries ago. The gutted insides filled out with a patched-up bar, the mended tables and scattered chairs filled with patrons. Rooms to rent lining the first - and second floor - if you were brave enough to risk the staircase.
A few stalls set up alongside a wall - a barber ran by a Mister Handy with a looping stutter, the second by another Ghoul. Her few racks are filled with a patchwork of fabric, all in stained and faded patterns.
He gestures, a tilt of his head at the racks, “Pick something out, quick like.”
You’d gape at him, if you weren’t afraid he’d change his mind. Serious about your suit - you’re quick to grab a shirt in your size with only two holes. A pair of trousers, a rip at the knee.
“This ain’t for you.” The Ghoul clarifies darkly in your ear, “This is a trigger-happy town. Don’t need to be wasting my bullets.”
You hum in agreement - undeterred by his tone. The package clutched to your chest as he hands over a couple caps. Stuck over a full two weeks now in the same suit - you’re itching for the soft cotton against the skin.
Turning to leave, but then you’re halting. A couple of the patrons look familiar, hovering just inside the door. Something about that scar-
You’re trying to recall, in the crowd of people you’ve seen today - when a hand clamps down on your shoulder. Wheeling you around as the Ghoul turns to the shop owner.
“You got a room she can borrow?” There’s a change in his tone, almost a sticky-sweet edge to his drawl.
It must work - you’re shown to what used to be an old parlor room. An array of broken chairs, a heavy wooden table. The wallpaper torn and faded, the shades of cream long stained a dull, dirty yellow.
He fills the doorway - an arm propped against the frame, and you hold your wrists out to him dutifully.
You’ve worked at the knots before, to no avail - only to scowl now, as he undoes them easily with one hand.
A moment of silence hanging then, as you give him a pointed look - rubbing at sore wrists.
“You gonna leave so I can change?” You ask, “I’ll just be a second.”
The Ghoul steps forward instead, pulling the door shut behind him. An audible click, as he thumbs at the lock.
“Oh, I don’t think so, darlin’.”
A heat flares to life in your cheeks, “You’re staying?”
“That’s right,” He sinks into an old loveseat, propped up on concrete blocks near the boarded-up window, “Can’t leave you alone in a place like this. Fuckin’ vultures would swoop right in.”
You hesitate, watching him warily as an arm slings across the back, legs stretched out against the floor. If you didn’t know better then you think it was something almost akin to concern in his tone.
Or then again - he might just want to keep your bounty to himself. You had hoped you were past that, but-
“What?” His tongue pokes at his cheek, tone taunting, “Gettin’ shy again?”
The clothes are dropped unceremoniously on the table, your Pip-Boy following. A glare, as you reach for the zipper of your Vault Suit, starting to yank it down.
“Hey, now.” His hand raises, “Slowly. Got it?”
There’s an immediate urge to resist, to test him - but then, you’re catching the look on his face.
It’s hungry, beneath the brim of his hat. You start to feel like you did in the desert, and then the alley - intrigue, and desire, and an ache from his words, all melding together.
So, you take it slow. The zipper slipping from your throat, to breasts, then belly. A roll of your shoulders as you slip your arms from the tight sleeves.
His eyes follow, lingering on each inch of bare skin that’s revealed.
“Turn around.” He growls when you reach your hips, and for him - you do.
Bending at the waist as you unlace your boots and step out of them. Back arched as you wiggle, pushing the suit down past your knees. Down soft legs that part, so you can step out of them.
A glance over your shoulder, then. His head tilts, eyes sweeping from your ankles to fix on the crux of your thighs. They press together on their own, a thrill at being on display for him.
He catches you looking, his hand lazy as it drops to his lap. A lift of his hips as he adjusts, palming himself. The other hand leaving the revolver shotgun that rests on the cushion next to him.
Crooking two fingers at you, silently beckoning you over.
You fit between thighs that inch wider. His hands curl on his lap, before he’s slowly peeling his gloves off. Warm, against your hips, biting into your skin.
“Don’t make ‘em like you above ground anymore,” He idly comments, a flatness to his tone that betrays nothing.
Soft and smooth skin. You wonder if he’s thinking about ruining it - sinking his teeth in and taking a bite. Leaving a mark that you’ll carry.
You think you’d let him.
His grip dents your skin, before his hands are dropping. A heated look thrown your way, as his face tips up to yours.
“Why don’t you show me again,” He husks, “What you’re so good at.”
Your breath catches - eyes flicking warily towards the door, but he’s quick to call you back.
“Hey, now. Eyes over here.” The Ghoul snaps, “You need to worry ‘bout me more than anyone out there.”
It sends a heat rushing through you, knowing that he’s right. You’re locked in a room with the most dangerous man in the city, and it does something to you.
A boldness, in the way you reach behind. His growled out “fuck” when you let bra loosens - joining the blue and yellow suit on the floor.
The wood is rough under your knees. Letting your hands wander, lifting his hips while your work open his belt. Drawing down the rusted zipper.
You grasp at his hips, tugging the faded fabric until he’s free. Fingers tracing over thighs, just as rough and reddened at the rest of him. It’s still not much, but it’s more of him than you’ve ever seen.
Bare beneath the stained pants, cock already thick and full where it curves against his hip. All from just watching you - perhaps a strange thing to be proud of, but fuck, you are.
Your hands curl around his knees, as your head dips. Taking more time than you did before. Lips pressing against the taut base, as a hand twists in your hair again.
“Come on and thank me, sweetheart.” He growls - urging you upward, “Gettin’ those clothes for you. Make it worth my while.”
It’s different this time. A familiarity in the way your tongue presses against the flushed head. The taste of the salt on your tongue, before your lips are part around him.
A soft groan, when he’s filling your mouth again. You’ve thought about it often since last time. Wondering when he would have you on your knees again. If he’d want more, the next.
Your heartbeat thuds between your thighs, with the shift of his hips into your mouth - chasing his pleasure.
An urge to make him feel good. Without thinking - your hand wraps around his shaft, as your head eases back.
“Easy, now.” He grits, though his eyes are fixed on how your fingers curl around him. How it pumps, squeezing him with spit-slick fingers.
Jerking him into a mouth that parts so prettily for him. Your other hand slipping against his thigh, with feather-light brushes. A short inhale before you take him deep again, your fist sliding down to the base.
The next time you pull him from mouth for a breath, drool stringing from his cock to your lips, he hears himself growling out, “Stop.”
You’re being too tender, and he finds that he can’t stand it. Should have kept you bound, like last time.
The Ghoul’s fingers bite into your chin, your mouth glossy from how you swallowed him down.
“I’m taking you this time. Know you’ve been just aching for it.” He husks, his thumb pressing against your lip. Watching your tongue peek out to taste it, “Go on. Get up, and get your ass over to that table.”
Your desire nearly eclipses everything else. Pushing on his thighs for support, crossing the three steps to the side of the table.
“No,” He follows - the gun clattering on the table top, brought over from the couch. His hands at your hips, guiding you until you’re facing the door, “Right here, sweetheart. I’ll be keepin’ watch.”
It has you remembering where you are - that you’re just supposed to be getting changed. Wondering if you should worry that you don’t care - the thought of piping up, having the risk of losing this chance and denying pleasure again has you quickly adapting.
A hand presses at the small of your back insistently, bending you over it. You can feel him against the curve of your ass, sticky against your skin.
“Cross your wrists,” His thighs shift against yours, as you fix your hands that has flattened against the tabletop.
Making it easy for him to grasp at them with one hand - stretching them further, pressing them against the wood as he kicks your thighs further apart.
Leaving you on tip-toe, arched against him.
“Look at you, listening.” He almost coos, with another lazy rock. His cock shifts, fitting between your thighs, nudging against you.
“I think-” You start, but it’s punctuated by a moan, “Think you just like tying girls up.”
“Now you’re gettin’ it,” He drawls, “Though I don’t discriminate. Theres just something ‘bout havin’ you like this-”
The Ghoul leans over you then, his grip tightening. Pinning you firmly between him and the table, unable to do more than squirm as his free hand slips between your thighs, cupping you.
It’s the first time he’s touched you like this, and your muscles string tight - trying not to buck into his palm. Against fingers that rub against your clit, pressing the sticky fabric to your skin.
“Fuck.” He rasps in your ear. Nails bite into your hips, as he tears the fabric down to your thighs.
Coming back to press against your bare cunt, fingers slipping against your folds. You’re unable to help the soft whimper as he parts you, two fingers teasing at your entrance.
“Please,” You whine, as he pets against you. Smearing your slick up to your clit again, his fingers parting just as he reaches it.
His cock presses against your leg, thick and stiff. A roll of his hips until it’s pressed snug against your cunt - jutting between your thighs just below his hand.
“Your pussy is downright leakin for me, sweetheart,” He growls, “You need it that bad?”
You whine, your head turning to look - watching how he arcs over you. That blown-wide look in his eyes again, as you nod.
There’s a split second as his hand leaves you, before it’s cracking down on the meat of your ass. You gasp in shock as you go still beneath him, the pain unexpected and swirling with your heady need.
“Say it out loud,” He barks out, “Tell me just how much.”
Your skin stings, his fingers twitch before he kneads roughly at the flesh - the burn of it akin to way you ache for him.
“I need it,” You keen, “Need your cock. Want you to fuck me-”
The words cut off - a rough hum of approval before he’s lining himself up, a hand curving to grip your hip. The other flexes around your wrist, before he’s driving himself deep with a single, powerful thrust.
Your cry is loud, this time. Low and rough, pushed from your lungs as your pussy makes room for him.
“Fucking christ, you’re tight,” He grunts, unable to help the shallow buck of his hips, “Better than my goddamn dreams.”
It makes you moan - the gritted-out admission not lost on you.
Even with how wet you are, you still feel like you’re stretched wide. An ache radiating through you, sparking to life as he inches out, only to plunge deep again. The table bites into your hips, back arching as he sets a rough rhythm.
The sharp twinge starting to fade, as you begin to accommodate him. Growing accustomed to the heavy weight of him inside you, the steady stroke against your walls that has you starting to clench down around him.
Your breathing grows shorter, faster. Face turning to bury in the curve of your shoulder, muffling the moans that are pushed from you - until his hand is leaving your hip, twisting in your hair with a sharp tug.
Forcing your head back, his grip anchoring you.
“Don’t think so, darlin’. Know you saw those eyes on you,” He’s lost the steady edge to his voice, words turning rough, “Go on, be loud.”
The Ghoul’s hips pound harder, the rough texture of his cock stroking deep. Each sending a current through you, leaving your fingers and toes flexing, aching for just a little bit more.
“Saw you come in with me. Show ‘em who you belong to.”
“Fuck!” You cry, wishing you had a name to scream. Unable to muffle your ragged breath, the moans he pulls from you.
It fills the room, melding with the slick punch of his cock into your wet and needy cunt. Better than before, because his hands are on you now - leaving your hair, blunt nails dragging down your back. Ghosting across your hip, where your skin presses into the wood.
“Touch me.” You beg, again, “Let me touch myself, I can’t-”
His hand withdraws, and you whine - backpedaling. Afraid that he’s going to pull from you, finish himself across your back or your ass for asking.
“Please. Fuck, please. Don’t, I’m so close-”
He groans at your plea through clenched teeth.
Releasing his grip on you, only for his hand to slide to the base of your throat. His other arm looping beneath you as he hauls you against him, flattening against your ribs.
Palming at a soft breast, as you’re pulled up and pressed flushed to his chest.
“Listen to you, miss manners,” He grins - teeth bared, “That’s more like it, honey.”
The bandolier cuts into your skin, the wood into your thighs. And change in the angle that has your cries growing louder as his cock pounds against a soft spot inside you. Warm breath ghosting against your neck, deep rumbling growls in your ear.
Everything fades, growing hazy. His fingers tighten, but not enough to fully choke the air from you. An implication - your own hands wrapping around his wrist to anchor yourself to him. 
You can hear him inhale you, the scrape of teeth against your skin above the heavy press of his fingers. Salvation in the way the hand splayed beneath your chest drifts lower, his voice smooth in your ear.
“This is for listening,” He husks, “You understand?”
Relentless, when his fingers press against your clit. Slick and circling until you’re grinding into his touch, meeting the hard slap of his hips.
The gasping chant of “fuck, fuckfuckfuck,  please-” turning into mindless whimpers, his rough rhythm growing sloppy.
“Goddamn, you feel good.” It’s a ragged sigh, “Feel your tight little cunt squeezing me. Gonna make a mess, sweetheart?”
It sounds muted, layering with a ringing white noise. Your nails bite into his wrists as the swiftly building tides breaks. Almost missing the sweet growl in your ear.
“Let them hear how a pretty thing like you sounds coming on a cock like mine.”
You do, with the next swirl of his rough fingers - the sound broken as he rips it from you.
Bearing down around the cock that fits so deeply into you, with each blissful pulse of your release. Forgetting about the rest - about the outside world - as your nerves alight with pleasure.
His hand drops from your throat to brace against the table. Bending you flat again as he feels you flutter and gush around his length, crushing you against the top as blunt teeth close against the pulse point of your throat, biting down.
The sounds of his own orgasm muffled - a ragged groan as his cock throbs, as he fucks himself deep into you. Tasting the salt of your skin as you yelp, clenching around him - milking him until your walls are coated with his spend.
He hadn’t meant to - but the urge to pull from you had wavered the moment he buried himself in your cunt. Abandoned completely, after feeling you come so sweetly around him. An instinct lingers even now - to enjoy the soft press of your body against his, your warmth.
You shiver as his lips brush your neck, the closest thing to an apology as you’ll get - before he’s pulling away from you, leaving you clenching and empty.
A ragged hand slips between your thighs as you prop yourself up on your elbows, catching your breath. Pleasure still radiating from your core as fingertips swipe through the come that is just starting to leak from you.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” He laughs - the sound ragged, with a flash of yellowed teeth.
“Guess this means you better start cookin’.”
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The Vault Suit is left beneath the table, a crumpled up reminder that you’re happy to leave behind.
Your cheeks burn as you leave the saloon - the strangers from before cleared out. A definite wobble to your steps - something that The Ghoul certainly notices, the low tilt of his hat hiding the curling pull of his lips.
Outlining the path towards the next bounty as you find your way out, guessing where you might find a lab along the way.
And it’s only as the city starts to fade, that you realize -
He never bound your wrists again, after.
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I have the brainrot for this man for sure! Thank you for stopping by & reading 💖 (and I have also been reading so much about the new chem the Ghoul takes! For plot & smut reasons - I am going with RadAway, haha)
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theemporium · 2 months
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[1.7k] an early morning birthday treat for your boyfriend hours before the rest of the world needs either of you. (smut)
we are gonna ignore the fact i accidentally hit the post limit yesterday and pretend i actually posted this on his birthday
.
“Good morning, birthday boy.” 
Oscar let out a small hum of acknowledgement, a small smile working its way onto his face but he didn’t bother opening his eyes. Instead, he wound his arm around your waist and tugged you down until you were collapsing down on his chest. He sighed happily, nuzzling himself further against you whilst you wiggled in his embrace. 
“You’re ruining your birthday,” you commented, trying to nudge his arm away so you could sit back up. But Oscar didn’t budge a bit.
“It’s my birthday,” he grumbled, his voice still laced with sleep and his accent coating his slurred words a little thicker than normal. “I get to choose what we do and I choose sleeping.”
“That’s boring,” you retorted, twisting in his hold until you were facing him. You reached a hand out, pushing his hair back until you got an unrestricted view of his face squished against the pillow. 
“I happen to like boring birthdays.” 
You snorted, smiling fondly as you leaned down to press a kiss on the tip of his slightly scrunched nose. “You’re not even going to ask what I planned?” 
“If it includes leaving this bed before I have to head to the track, then I’m not interested,” Oscar mumbled, letting out a sigh as your nails began to scratch along his scalp. “I’m quite happy here. Very content. Very happy birthday boy.”
“And if I said your birthday plans start in bed?” 
Oscar paused for a moment. “I’m listening.”
You grinned, lightly poking his cheek until his eyes slowly fluttered open. “Hey.”
He flashed you a lazy smile. “Hi, baby.”
“Happy birthday,” you murmured before you leaned down, pressing a soft but lingering kiss on his lips. 
“Definitely happy,” he hummed in response, huffing a little when you pushed his shoulder so he was lying on his back. “You’re awfully bossy this morning.”
“You like it,” you teased, throwing one leg over his body until you were settled on his lap. In seconds, his hands were on your waist like the reaction was instinctive. 
“Maybe,” he replied, though the light pink painting his cheeks gave him away. His thumbs lightly swiped along your hip bones, slowly pushing the material of your (his) shirt up until he was met with bare skin. “I have to be at the track by ten.”
“It’s only seven,” you retorted.
“That means we could have had a solid two more hours of sleep,” he pointed out, his eyes still a bit bleary from sleep. He was just grateful enough that one of you remembered to pull the curtains shut last night. “You know, cuddling is good for dopamine and stuff.”
Your lips twitched. “Dopamine and stuff?”
“You woke me up five minutes ago, give me a break,” Oscar grumbled, squeezing your hips to emphasise his point. 
“I know something else that would be good for your dopamine and stuff,” you said, grinning a little as you leaned down to peck his lips. “Something for the birthday boy.”
“You keep saying that but—oh shit.”
You watched his eyes flutter shut, his grip on you tightening as you rolled your hips against his. You ducked your head down, lips pressing chaste, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and neck as you felt his skin flush under your touch. You felt his thumping pulse pounding, could feel the way his body was reacting to you. 
It was fucking intoxicating. 
“Do you still wanna go back to sleep?” You questioned, your voice teasing and a little patronising as you nipped the skin just below his ear.
“Nuh uh,” he breathed out, shaking his head in response. “This is good. This is better.”
You grinned against his skin.
And maybe it was still-half-asleep brain or maybe Oscar just didn’t want to assume, but he wasn’t really expecting more. It was still painfully early for either of you to be awake right now, especially considering how late you had managed to get to the hotel. And he was honestly more than happy to have this, to have his girl on top of him. To have your hands and your lips and your pretty words. To just have you. 
He wasn’t thinking about where it was leading, he was just stuck in the present moment of you, you, you.
His brain hadn’t even fully caught up until your kisses started moving lower, until a few chaste kisses along his collarbone started to move further down his chest. 
“Babe,” he rasped, his head still a little fuzzy with sleep as your breath fanned over the muscles of his stomach.
“Shhh, relax f’me, Osc,” you murmured between soft kisses, fingers tugging the edge of his boxers down as the urge to mark along his v-line overwhelmed you. 
“I—” But the words were lost in the back of his throat as the heel of your palm pressed against the bulge in his boxers, your lips mouthing at the sensitive skin along his hips. 
His eyes fell shut, his head digging back into the pillow as he let himself enjoy every single inch of his body that was being touched by you. The way his hips bucked against your hand, the front of the fabric already wet and stained with precome as you marked pretty bruises on his pale skin. The way your body settled between his thick thighs, nails grazing along his skin until he was squirming and whining underneath you. The way every cell in his body was just so, so responsive to you. 
A guttural moan escaped the back of his throat as you mouthed along his clothed cock, licking a thick strip over the fabric of his boxers as he helplessly buckled beneath your touch. He didn’t think a single thought in his head was about anything but you. He didn’t think he wanted to think about anything else but you. 
Your fingers curled around the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down his legs and throwing them somewhere off the edge of the bed, neither one of you all too bothered where it landed. Instead, you took his hard cock in your hand, not wasting a second before you sucked the tip in your mouth, lapping at the small beads of precome that were already leaking.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he breathed out, his hips bucking further into your mouth but your other hand kept his body planted on the mattress. 
He was fucking helpess. 
He was fucking helpess and he didn’t give two shits about anything other than you. 
There was a vague voice in the back of his head reminding him that it was early, that they had neighbours, that those neighbours were colleagues of his. But it was a passing thought at best for Oscar as he squirmed and wiggled and writhed beneath your touch. It was a problem for future Oscar to deal with. 
And it wasn’t often Oscar was vocal, not like this. But he was sleepy and caught off-guard and, fuck, your mouth just felt like heaven wrapped around his cock. He couldn’t help himself with the whimpers and moans he let out, your name like a mantra as it left his lips on a broken loop. 
Because Oscar Piastri was a weak man when it came to you. 
And when he lifted his head off the pillow to finally look down at you, he about lost whatever semblance of control he had left.
Your hands were placed on his thighs, your nails digging into his skin but the pain was biting and welcomed. Your cheeks were hallowed around his dick, a mix of come and drool leaking from the edges but it just made his stomach twist with a deep desire that he knew would haunt his fantasies for months to come. Your lips were red and swollen, your eyes were glossy and hooded and, fucking hell, the second he met your gaze, it was over for him. 
His hands were gripping the sheets of the duvet beneath him as he came, the pleasure white and hot and overwhelming in every sense of the word. He felt it all over like a hot flush, dancing along his nerve endings and racing down his spine as his body bucked upwards to be closer to you, your mouth, your everything. He was distantly aware of the little whiny noises he made as he came, the ones that were half muffled as he buried his face into his pillow as his orgasm washed over him whilst you lapped at his sensitive cock. 
He couldn’t really find it in himself to be embarrassed when he finally turned back to look at you, seeing you slowly lick your fingers clean from the cum that had leaked out your mouth with a huge grin on your face.
“You’re a menace,” was all he managed to breathe out, throwing his arm over his face to try and recover from mind blowing orgasm and the sight of you shamelessly tasting him. 
“Happy birthday,” you replied cheerfully, crawling back up the bed until you could press a chaste kiss on his cheek before nuzzling yourself against him. “Good start to twenty-three?”
He huffed out a laugh. “I think you might’ve killed me.”
“At least you died young, pretty and satisfied,” you joked, feeling his chest rumble beneath you and it made your stomach twist with something quite like delight. 
“And in love,” he added, his words a little slurred and his cheeks burning a little at his own cheesiness. But it still made you grin.
“I love you too, Osc,” you murmured back.
“I was talking about those sushi rolls we had last night, but yeah I love you too,” he murmured, letting out a short pained noise when you pinched his side. “Ow! What happened to birthday boy privileges?”
“Those ended with the blowjob,” you retorted. “You’re back to normal Oscar now.”
“Hm, that seems a little unfair,” Oscar commented as he wound his arms around your body, hugging you close to his chest like the two of you could melt into one person. 
“Tragic life of being twenty-three,” you teased.
Oscar smiled. “Thank you, seriously.” 
You laughed, lifting your head to look at him. “Did you just thank me for a blowjob?”
The sleepy smile returned. “Yeah, pretty sure I just did.”
“Never beating the polite cat allegations,” you said, lighthearted and sweet and joking as you leaned down to kiss him. “Never change, birthday boy.”
“Never in a million years, baby.” 
.
2K notes · View notes
illyrianbitch · 2 months
Text
What We Make of What We’re Made
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Pairing: Acheron!Reader x Azriel
Summary: When Azriel overhears Feyre's concern about your transition to fae life, he agrees to check on you.
Warnings: mentions of previous trauma and hardship, fluff :)
Word Count: 3k
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
“I’m worried about her, Rhys. Really worried.”
Although Feyre’s voice was quiet, Azriel could sense the worry that coated it from where he stood down the hallway, the sound of her voice leaking through the cracked door of Rhysand’s office. It was a quiet morning, lazy almost, as Azriel walked around the townhouse. His shadows danced along the walls next to him, matching the pace of his walking as he approached the open door.
“Worried about who?” 
Feyre let out a small sound of surprise, turning her head towards where Azriel now stood, a delicate hand flying to place itself above her heart. Even with the time that passed, she never quite got used to how stealthy the shadowsinger could be, how easily he was able to quiet the sounds of his own footsteps with the lively shadows he called his own.
“Oh, Azriel,” Feyre said, giving him a small, soft smile. “Good morning.”
Az gave her a quick smile back, dipping his head ever-so-slightly in a gentle greeting. His gaze bounced between her and Rhys, who gave him a simple raise of his eyebrows in acknowledgement.
“Who are you worried about?” Azriel asked again.
Rhys and Feyre exchanged a meaningful glance, and then Feyre let out a small sigh, turning to look at Azriel once more. There was a small furrow in her brow as she fiddled with her fingers.
"Y/n," she confessed.
Azriel’s face softened, his mouth turning into a small downturned frown. He felt a subtle shift in his shadows, as if they had responded to the sound of your name. Faintly, he felt their airy, cool, touch on his body as their large mass rose up his arms. He felt them settle at his shoulders, perched— alert, almost– as if they, too, were attuned to the conversation. 
"I see.”
"Feyre is concerned that she may be having a harder time becoming fae than she has let on," Rhysand explained.
The crease between Azriel’s brows grew deeper as his gaze flickered between the two before him. 
"Why?”
Feyre sighed again, giving a small shrug. There was a certain look in her eyes, a look that Azriel traced back to the day the King of Hybern turned you and your sisters into fae— forced you into fae. It was a look he was familiar with, one he often wore himself: guilt.
It was no secret that Feyre felt responsible for what had happened to you and your sisters. Although she spent those first few months away, Feyre felt it in her heart, the struggle you had all experienced. And she felt the guilt even deeper knowing that she wasn’t there to help. She didn’t hide it as well as she thought she did, that certain fear that she clung to of her sisters never truly forgiving her for what she felt was a personal betrayal. Or, perhaps, Azriel was just too good at his job. 
 "I've barely seen her,” she said, “I know that Nesta and Elain are having a difficult time, but at least I can see them. Be near them—as much as Nesta may hate it."
Azriel blinked. And then an unfamiliar feeling began to gnaw at his heart. Feyre was right. You hadn’t been around recently. Az had noticed, of course, as he tended to keep track of those in his circle, of the people he was expected to protect— at least to a degree. And you had, indeed, been gone more often than you were home. 
In fact, he struggled to remember the last time you sat with them for longer than a few minutes before rushing off. With a small exhale, Azriel sent a few of his shadows down his body and out the door, pushing them to check your bedroom and report back to him regarding anything that might be of use. 
“Well, maybe we could send Azriel to check on her?” 
The sound of Rhysand’s voice called Azriel’s attention back to the conversation, and he cleared his throat in hopes that the motion would clear his mind as well. 
Feyre's eyes widened slightly as she brushed a gentle hand across Rhysand’s forearm, turning to look at Azriel with a faint smile. "That's a great idea. You've been so sweet to Elain, Az. Maybe you could help Y/n, too. Would you mind?" 
Her voice held a note of hope and Az found himself nodding gently. 
"Of course not," He replied, "But if she's struggling, am I really who she would want to see?" 
Rhysand frowned slightly before looking down at his mate. But Feyre simply shook her head, offering a reassuring smile as she said, "I think you'd be a breath of fresh air.”
"And you could get a better read of where she's at,” Rhysand added, “Maybe how we can help.”
Azriel nodded once more. In the same moment, he felt a few of his shadows return, slowly snaking up his legs to join the mass near his shoulders. Your room was empty, as it turned out, and the bed was cold. Wherever you had gone, you’d left quite a while ago— and you left no notice of where it was that you were running off to. 
"I'll find her," Azriel affirmed. With a final nod to Rhysand and Feyre, he turned and left the room, his shadows trailing behind him. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
It was nearing the later months of the year now, and there was a cool breeze that filled the air, not quite chilly enough to make him shiver, but enough of a nip to make the warmth of his leathers comforting. Azriel loved this time of year, loved the way the breeze kissed his cheeks and how refreshing it felt against his wings. It was a good time of year, a time to take a breath and prepare to start new— he quite loved the second part, the promise of a new start, of a chance to be better than who he was before. 
Az slowly walked along the Sidra, his wings carefully and neatly tucked into his back. His posture was lazy, a small hunch in his shoulders as scanned his surroundings. He made himself as small as possible, not wanting to take up too much space, or worse, scare those around him. Specifically, he didn’t want to scare you if he happened to come across you.
But that was proving difficult at the moment. In truth, Az didn’t know where to look. His shadows were on alert, told to seek out any sign of you, any indication of where you might have disappeared to. He thought of all the quiet places nearby, of the corners in Velaris that may provide some darkness to shrewd in. But nothing quite came to mind. He let his thoughts wander as he continued his path.
Azriel felt guilty. 
Sure, you weren’t his responsibility, but you were part of his family now— a sister of Feyre, of his High Lady. You were his to protect. And while Cassian had been working with Nesta, or attempting to and being shot down, Az had been tiptoeing around Elain when he wasn’t assessing the court for any more help needed for post-war rebuilding. Things had been quiet recently. And he had assumed, apparently wrongfully so, that you and your sisters would be able to properly acclimate now, to learn how to live as fae. He couldn’t speak much for Nesta, as she had distanced herself as soon as she could, but Elain— Elain had made slight progress. She was moving around the house, tending to her garden.
But you. You, he had not truly analyzed. There had been Nesta’s anger, Elain’s helplessness and utter fear, and you…. you had been silent. And ever since, you’d found something to busy yourself with— perhaps some distraction from the pain you’d forced yourself to deal with alone, he thought.
He should have kept a better eye. He had failed you, had failed his family. 
He felt the faint, cool tug on his body, pulling him out of his thoughts. 
Azriel clenched his teeth in frustration, stopping in his tracks as he looked down at his shadows once more, watching as few slithered towards the edge of the shops that lined the Sidra, the other shadows dancing around his wrists as if enticing him to follow. 
He attempted to call them back, reel them in like energetic children, but they refused, continuing to veer off course and drawing his attention to a particular figure seated outside a quaint cafe. He threw the female a quick glance, taking in her sapphire coat and her hair tucked within it. He looked down at his shadows. 
Stop it, Az scolded. Stay on track. Find Y/n.
But yet again, his shadows danced in between the cobblestoned roads towards the female. 
She sat with her back to Az, her laughter ringing out like a melody amidst the chatter of the busy street. She was engaged in conversation with, who Az assumed was, the cafe owner, her gestures animated as the two talked. 
Azriel paused. And then the female was moving her hands to her neck, lifting her hair and freeing it from where it lay underneath her coat. Instantly, a small breeze kissed Azriel’s nose, and he was hit with a scent of sweetness that had his wings falling slightly limp behind him. 
It smelled like…you?
He slowly moved forward, brows furrowed together as he approached the female from behind. 
The shop owner's conversation faltered as she took in Azriel's approaching figure, the words she had been speaking instantly dying off her tongue. Her eyes went wide for a moment before her face softened, and she offered a polite nod of acknowledgment.
From in front of him, you turned around, your head tilting up to meet Azriel’s eyes instantly. 
And then you smiled. 
His confusion deepened as he watched you, his previous expectations shattered by the sight of what Azriel could only describe as…joy.
“Azriel!” You said, “What are you doing here?”
Azriel’s eyes flickered between you and the shop owner as he swallowed.
“I-” He hesitated for a moment. His shadows danced around him. Happy, Joy, Content. “Feyre sent me.”
Your face fell into a small frown and you turned your head to face the shopkeeper once more. 
“It was so nice talking with you, Liena,” you said softly, “And thank you so much for the treats.” 
You motioned to a small empty plate before you, and the female smiled at you, leaning forward to grab it with her small hands. “Please come by anytime. We’re glad to have you here.”
You smiled at her, watching as she retreated back into her quaint little shop. Then, you turned to look up at Azriel once more. 
“Feyre sent you?” You asked, “For me?”
Az nodded, eyes quickly flickering down to where his shadows seeped to trail near your ankles, he clenched his jaw slightly as he urged them to return, a sense of heated embarrassment filling his body— a sensation he wasn’t used to. Had never felt before, really.
“She's worried about you,” he finally managed to reply. 
Az took a step back as you pushed your chair out, gently standing up and turning to face him. There was a gentle smile on your face, but your brows were furrowed as you stared at him through dark lashes. You brought your hand to your chest, hovering it over your heart. Just as Feyre does, Azriel noted. One and the same.
“She is?”
There was a trace of concern in your voice, but it wasn’t in the way he had expected. You seemed concerned that Feyre was worried— concerned as if she had no reason to be worrying at all. Azriel took a moment to scan your features, taking in your face, the way you stood, the clothes that adorned your figure.
You were beautiful, Azriel knew this. He had noticed it when he first met you and your sisters, standing with his brothers and Feyre. But comparing that female he first met to the one that now stood before him… the similarities were almost hard to find. You were glowing. There was a pink tint that coated your cheeks, the faint blush that painted your skin from the cool breeze. Your skin was full of color that had been missing those first few weeks after you’d been Made, and you wore a gentle smile that held a heavy warmth to it. 
Happy, Joy, Content.
“She is,” he responded, “You’ve been gone a lot recently. She was concerned that you were struggling with being fae.”
You blinked, your mouth falling open slightly as you took in his words, and then your brows furrowed deeper.
“Oh my gods,” you said quietly, “I didn’t realize what Feyre might think.”
You let out a small sigh, gently tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. Azriel simply looked at you, his mind drawing blanks of what he could say. He couldn’t form the right words, at least not while his energy was being spent on pulling his shadows away from your body and back into his. 
‘I know my sisters are struggling. And I was too,” you quickly added, “but I woke up one day and suddenly the sunshine seemed brighter and its rays were warmer, and all the sounds around me were more melodic than I’d ever heard.”
You stopped for a moment, grabbing a strand of your hair in your hands to twirl between your fingers before you continued. “I don’t know how else to describe it. And I didn’t want to be so happy around them. It felt wrong— like if I was betraying them somehow, for enjoying what we had been forced to become. So I stayed out of the house. At least, at the beginning. But now?” 
You stopped again, but this time you made a soft gesture with your hand to your surroundings, too lost in your words to notice how a single shadow managed to hover around your extended hand. Azriel kept his gaze on you, unwavering and focused as you smiled once more, a small laugh leaving your lips. Without noticing, the corners of his lips turned up at the sound.
“Azriel, this city is beautiful. I would have never been able to experience something like this as human. We were unhappy, simply existing rather than living. But here? The food, the music, the energy.” 
You fiddled with your hands as you shook your head gently, the smile never leaving your face. 
“What happened to my family, to Nesta, to Elain, to Feyre,” you said, moving closer to look up at him. “It was cruel. And it wasn’t beautiful. But what I make of myself after it? That can be beautiful.” 
There was something about the words that you spoke, how genuine your face was as you stared at him, that made Azriel’s heart clench. He felt silly, truly, for the sudden rush of emotion that washed over him like a tidal wave. You were happy, thriving even, and you’d been too worried about your sisters to share the joy. It was a different kind of selflessness than what he’d grown accustomed to seeing, a kind that he’d only seen in one other recently— your sister. His High Lady. 
Happy, Joy, Content. His shadows sang once again. Happy, Joy, Content.
“I’m sorry Feyre sent you all this way for nothing. “
“No,” Azriel quickly said, much faster than he intended to. His gaze casted down towards the outstretched hand that he had instinctively placed on your shoulder. He quickly retracted it, not failing to notice the small frown that passed through your features. “It wasn’t a waste.”
You gave him a small laugh. “Well, anyways. I’m sorry for spewing that all onto you like some sick toddler. Thank you for coming to find me. It was very sweet.”
You cleared your throat, taking a step back.
“Please let Feyre know I’m alright and that I’ll be back tonight. But I’d like to explore a bit more. The weather is perfect today. Something about how…” You trailed off for a moment, looking up at the skies above you, closing your eyes for a second as a trail of wind swept past your face.
“The way the breeze kisses your cheeks?” Azriel said, his voice quiet and unsure. Where those words came, and what overcame him to say them, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t feel like questioning them— not now, anyways. 
You opened your eyes and looked at him once more. “Yes. Exactly.” 
A small cool touch drew your attention down to your feet, your eyes watching as small, opaque tendrils of black shadows danced between you and Azriel. You admired them for a moment, and Az took in how excited your eyes were as you traced their motions.
“Well,” you said, straightening yourself up. “Thank you again for coming to find me. I’ll let you get back to your day.” 
You gave a small nod before you were turning yourself around and walking towards the lively streets. As Azriel watched his shadows trail after you, he found himself calling out to your retreating form, “Y/n.”
You stopped. And then you turned to face him, arms now crossed against your chest. You tilted your head as he gave you a small, almost unsure, smile.
“Would you like me to show you around?”
You paused for a moment, as if you were considering the offer. He felt a flicker of fear in his gut, a new sense of embarrassment at the idea of you rejecting him. Perhaps he had intruded on your newfound freedom, placed himself where he shouldn’t be. But it was only an offer, was it not? And-
His thoughts died down as you smiled at him, your cheeks raising at the movement. 
“Well then, what are you doing standing all the way over there for? I expect a full tour.”
Azriel let out a small chuckle, a fluttering sensation filling his chest as he followed the trail his shadows led to you. 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria
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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months
Text
Ryomen Sukuna getting on his knees for his wife
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Pairing: Sukuna x wife!reader
Word Count: 1,2k
Synopsis: For more than 500 years, you waited for your husband's return. When he finally shows himself again in Shibuya, he can't help but worship his wife the way she deserves it
Warnings: no smut but this is a tease y'all, language, violence, Jogo (lmao), this is just Sukuna hehe
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You can’t help but smile to yourself, the intoxicating smell of death and agony filling you with nothing but joy. Oh, how much you long to finally see your husband again, to feel his arms wrapped around your body. How long has it been since you’ve last seen him? A few hundred years, maybe more. They were too keen to keep him from finding a new vessel, to come back into your open arms. But you’ve waited.
A huff escapes your lips. And now is finally the time to greet him again.
Without gifting them a single look, you walk past all those disgusting humans begging for their lives, the floor plastered in crimson. Is he responsible for this?
“Such a mess”, you mutter to yourself, a shiver of excitement running down your spine.
It has to be him, without any doubt. When you heard about his awakening, felt the fear that ran through the jujutsu community, you knew it was Sukuna. Good that brat decided to swallow his fingers you preserved so carefully for this exact moment.
You stroll into the train station of Shibuya that radiates so much unpromising energy that it’s hard to keep your cool composure. Where is he? What is he doing? Surely, he has a masterplan in his head already. But where is he?
“You.”
With a swift motion, you pin the strongest curse nearby against a wall, staring right into his widen eye.
You. Jogo has no idea who you are and where you came from. But he didn’t feel your presence until know, wasn’t even able to see you with your movements being so fast. Are you a special grade curse?
No, you have to be way above that level – way above him.
“Who are you?”
“You’re not in the position to ask questions. Where’s Sukuna?”
That threatening tone in your voice along with the sheer power you radiate. You…You…
Are you the queen of curses, Sukuna’s wife?
“I’m…I’m searching for him as well.”
It’s a miracle Jogo was able to press out a response, given the way your eyes are darted towards him. There were always rumours about your existence, that the king of curses himself has in fact a wife. But no one ever saw you, no one really believes that someone like him would fall for something pathetic like love.
“Then go ahead. I’m waiting.”
But oh he does. Your sheer presence is proof alone. His feet carry him down the hallways of Shibuya train station by themselves, the frightening sound of your sky-high heels against the floor sending shivers down his spine in waterfalls. One wrong movement, one unthoughtful word, one change of mind and he’s dead. Wiped from this earth forever with a swift motion of your little finger.
“Why are you searching for him, curse?”
Jogo swallows hard, thick fear running through his veins. What is he supposed to do? Lying? No, the chance of you knowing immediately is too high. He can’t afford your resentment.
“I would like to ask him to fight on our side.”
A cruel laughter escapes your lips before he even finished his sentence, cold eyes glaring at the back of his head.
“Listen sweetheart, Sukuna doesn’t do things like favours. But you know what? If you manage to find him, I’ll talk to him about this. After all, you’re here to kill these jujutsu sorcerers, right?”
He doesn’t reply when it hits you with full force. The stinging presence you missed so much these last decades, the unpromising change in the air. You and the curse in front of you stop in your tracks at the same time, eyes darting towards two girls who kneel on the ground.
Above a pink-haired boy, feeding him fingers.
His fingers.
Finally.
“Get away from my husband, girls. He’s already taken.”
A little movement of your fingers is enough to shoot them right into the next wall while you make your way to the puny figure leaning against the wall.
“Take care of them, curse. I need to look after my husband.”
Your usual composed heart almost beats out of your chest when you come near him, the power vibrating through his body becoming stronger and stronger every second. This is it, the moment you’ve been waiting for.
“Wake up, Mr. Drama. Your wife missed you”, you purr while placing your hand around his delicate neck.
Oh, the way his blood pumps through his veins, the feeling of his useless heartbeat against your tingling fingertips.
“I’m getting impatient, Sukuna.”
Your nails dig into his tender flesh until a trail of blood runs down his neck.
“So impatient…”
Suddenly, you find yourself pressed against the wall Sukuna was laying against just a moment ago, a hand wrapped around your neck.
And then you meet his eyes. The stone-cold red eyes that already caused so much pain, eyes that make every human cry out in sheer panic.
The eyes you longed for every lonely night.
“But I will forgive you. After all, I was gone for quite some time. Right, princess?”
“I’m not your princess”, you mumble against the force of his hand.
Your wrap your longing arms around his neck, pull him even closer, let him choke you even harder. Oh, you want to swallow him whole, want to feel him as close as possible. With a swift motion, you tear away the fabric that hides his upper body from your gaze.
“I’m your queen.”
Sukuna doesn’t waste another minute. His lips find yours. Longingly, passionate, so intense that you threaten to lose balance. His tongue re-discovers your mouth all over again, teeth nibbling on your lips so roughly that blood spills.
“Oh, how much I missed you”, he mumbles against your lips.
His hands roam around your body, hold your waist in place while he gets lost against your intoxicating mouth. The mouth he thought about all this time, the mouth that is capable of doing way more than talking.
“How much I longed to see you again.”
The king of curses gets on his knees, presses his head against your belly, cups your butt with his needy hands.
“Let me worship every inch of your body.”
“Just like you should for keeping me waiting”, you breathe out, a satisfied smile decorating your puffy lips.
“I will make it up to you, darling. When I’m done here, I’m all yours again”, he promises with low voice, still kneeling in front of you.
The world around you goes silent, both girls and Jogo staring at the scene in front of them in sheer disbelief. Is this the king of curses, kneeling in front of a woman and apologizing? This is absolutely impossible, almost absurd.
“You’re always mine, Sukuna”, you reply before pulling him up and getting a taste of him all over again.
“But before that, we should kill everyone around here, am I right?”
His breath caresses your cheek in sheer excitement, eyes soaking you up.
“That’s my wife.”
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1K notes · View notes
igotanidea · 4 months
Text
Almost there: Anthony Bridgerton x reader
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part 1: Too much
part 2 : Not enough
***
„One of those days you will get us both in trouble, Eloise.”
Due to some miracle, Y/N and her second-in-age sister in law managed to escape the watchful gaze of all, lady Danburry, Violet and Daphne, and rushed forward on the promenade. It was generally frowned upon, that the married lady strolled in the presence of a girl, who wasn’t even a débutante yet, but neither of those two seemed to take much interest in ton’s opinion.
“Trouble from merely speaking the truth?”
“Shall I remind you that this virtue is long forgotten in the society full of hypocrisy and deceit?” Y/N whispered taking Eloise’s arm to at least keep the pretences of being discreet. It would be unwise to let anyone else eavesdrop on the little exchange of words between close friends.
“It’s almost like you don’t trust me, my dear sister-in-law.” Eloise chuckled feigning the pompous tone.
“Please don’t ever call me like that again. You were my friend before you were my family. Don’t put the distance between us now. ”
“If anything I’d dare say I’m the reason you met with Anthony and –“ the sentence was cut out abruptly, as Eloise realised that Y/N was currently in the middle of a heavy argument with her husband. An argument that made her flee the house and turned out on the doorstep on the other Bridgerton’s house announced, in search for a friendly soul to talk to. And now she actually realised that all that may have been her fault from the beginning. If Y/N and Anthony have never met, they never would have fought and never—
“Stop overthinking it, dear.” The current viscountess chuckled observing her friend’s slightly hazy gaze and recognising it instantly. Clearly Eloise was getting lost in her own head.
‘Do not call me that!” the girl’s eyes became sharp and conscious again “I can hardly stand being called that affectionately by my mother, let alone by you.”
“Worked just as planned though.”
“Well, my biggest congratulations on being effective in the matter. You are almost as good at me with it.” 
“Oh, almost? From what I can recollect I taught you most of those tricks.” Y/N smiled brightly.
“Really?” Eloise raised an eyebrow “I can’t remember. Hey what do you say we run away from our chaperones and have a proper, meaningful discussion on what’s troubling you?”
“I wish it was that easy. But I’m a wife now and apparently –“
“Viscountess Bridgerton!” a sudden voice came from in front of them and Y/N felt like actually taking Eloise advice and rushing off. It was almost like the whole world decided to prey on her misery on that particular day. First lady Danburry, now lady Featherington. “How lovely to see you! Marriage serves you well. You are beaming, dear.”
Y/N gritted her teeth in hardly hidden annoyance at such obvious show of nosiness and lack of tact. She knew instantly that she had to cut the conversation short before another wave of unwanted questions about her blessed (or not) state would come.
‘Lady Featherington. Pleasure to see you there. Are your daughters accompanying you or are they occupied with their upcoming prenuptial agreements? I surely hope they would be as fortunate with their future husbands as I am with mine. And speaking of which, if you excuse me, I need to discuss a very urgent matter on the subject with my family.”She put an emphasis on two last word and not waiting for response, abandoning all the rules of the lady behaviour, tried to drag Eloise away almost sighing deeply in frustration.
„Oh, but viscountess, once Penelope weds Colin, we will be a family.” lady Featherington stopped both girls in their tracks before they managed to escape.
„I beg your pardon, what now?”
‘Oh, you didn’t know, viscountess? Your brother-in-law is about to marry my youngest daughter. By some miracle, clearly, since Penelope--” Portia started rambling without a care in the world.
„Oh I know about that part.” Y/N faked a smile that didn’t reach her eyes „I merely have the deep conviction that us becoming family is rather an improbable claim.”
„But--”
„Dearest lady Featherington, do not push my hand here. I would rather stay in amity with you. A very fragile alliance shall you pry into my private matters. I dare say you have a certain interest in using those bold statements? ”
„I beg your pardon?”
„The viscount, is still in the charge of his famliy’s - our family’s finances. And that shall include the future fortune of Colin. Shall you insist on intruding me during my leisure time I might have a word with my husband.”
„You truly do not  disgrace yourself with being modest, do you, Y/N? Has social advancement changed you so much? I clearly remember you being a scrawny child with no aspiration and position and look at you now. A snake in a sparkish dress.”
„She can at least choose the colour that highlights her beauty and doesn't make her look like--”
„Thank you Eloise.” Y/N cut her off before she could cause some more havoc. Lady Featherington was an onerousness but her gossiping nature was something Y/N did not need in the current situation. „I shall believe lady Portia will keep our little conversation in mind for the future purposes. Hers and her daughter’s.
„Actually if the viscount is around --”
„Unfortunately, matters of utmost importance kept him at home today.” Y/N responded with the most patience she could gather at the moment. There was always a possibility of farewelling the unwanted company, but as previously stated - there was no need of spreading the rumours of some discrepancies between the newlyweds. This hydra had to be beheaded immediately before the news spread throughout London.
„Such a shame you were left to tend for yourself then viscountess.”
„I shall believe I’d receive the most warm welcome back once my husband free himself of all the duties and occupations.”
***
While Y/N was having a lively discussion with indefatigable Portia Featherington, someone was observing her closely from behind the tree, staying unnoticed themselves.
 “Are you spying on her now?”
“I’m not spying!”
“Oh really? Then tell me brother, why on Earth would you hide in the bush instead of accompanying your wife on the promenade? If I were you –“
“Good thing you are not.” Anthony muttered grumpily keeping his eyes fixed on his wife’s silhouette. Even with her cheeks reddened from the indignation and eyes sparkling with cunning intelligence she was the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on. If anything, those characteristic may have only been adding to her charm.
he viscount may not have heard all the words exchanged between two ladies, but the way Y/N was keeping lady Portia at bay, standing her own ground and not wavering in the slightest was admirable and worthy of a viscountess. Serving as a reminder that his wife was not a fragile bird who was - in his opinion- in dire need of his protection and care, but rather  a capable, strong woman, who would survive on her own.
Which brought him to another conclusion - that she didn’t rely on him as much as he expected her to. That she was proud enough to get the audacity to leave his home, leave him and decided (solely by herself!) to pay a visit to his sister.
“If I were you—“ Benedict grinned mischievously “I would run and drag Y/N away from Eloise before those two officially call you an idiot and make a plan for Y/N to leave you for good.” apparently the second son was capable of reading his older brother’s mind and pointing out all the worries that were already inside viscount’s head
“She would never.”
“I am unaware of the scope of your failure, but given the fact your wife rushed to Eloise, out of all the people must have been immense.”
“That’s it!’ Anthony hissed, almost crawling out from behind the tree, ready to clear this misunderstanding immediately.
***
„Oh, my dear!” Lady Featherington placed her hands on her hips as if she wanted to emphasize her higher position and knowledge of male-female relations. „Do not occupy yourself with the romance fantasies. Courtship is gone once the knot is tied. And after a child is born--” her gaze landed on Y/N’s stomach „you put all the efforts into keeping the family afloat and secure the future of the offspring.”
„I believe--”
„Viscountess, you are so young. So naive and innocent. Fed on the novels and stories.”
„Most of which cover the topic of history, literature and medicine rather than Shakespeare plays.” now the young woman was getting angry her cheeks flushing  „topics which I boldly presume are far from your interest.”
„I beg your-”
„I kindly forgive you, lady Featherington. Now if you excuse us - I shall wish you a good day.”
„I am not--”
„Lady Featherington.”
The sudden deep voice coming from behind made all the ladies turn around at once.
„Viscount.” Portia bowed slightly „I was just having a little chat with your wife.”
„Educating her on the specificity of marital relations?”
„Giving her some of the knowledge that her prematurely deceased mother - God rest her soul - did not have the opportunity to teach her”
„How kind of you.” Anthony almost smirked and Y/N had to muffle the chuckle forming in the back of her throat looking down. It was like she saw the old him. „However I suppose that once I am here, you shall be free of your educative duties?”
„I--”
„do not preoccupy yourself my lady. My wife shall not lack the company from now on.” having said that, Antony walked right to Y/N offering her an arm and - a sight truly unexpected - bid the older lady goodbye while leading the viscountess away.
„I didn’t need you to save me.”
„such a shame I happened to be around then.”
„My undoing indeed.”
„Unforunate event that you might have to keep the externals for the duration of a stroll.” Anthony held her tighter and closer to him while nodding head to the acquaintance.
***
„Did you gather some intel on the current situation of our brother and his lovely wife?” Benedict, who followed the two of them without any hesitation, asked Eloise.
„I am Y/N’s confidante, I shall never-”
„You cannot trick me sister.”
„Anthony is an idiot.”
„I had quite a feeling you would say something like that. Now- shall we interfere or remain passive observers as Antony makes a fool of himself begging for her forgiveness?”
Eloise smirked as they continued their following.
She and Benedict always understood each other without words.
Edit: part 4 Stuck
@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @cat-lockwood @pr3ttyfac3jaelyn
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luvjunie · 6 months
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miles “i got it” morales earth 42 miles 591 words
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Between the both of you, Miles is always the first to stand up when the bell rings at the end of class. With all the textbooks you bring to school, he knows your backpack is just one mechanical pencil away from hitting a ton and for that reason he never lets you carry it yourself. In fact, he makes it his mission to pick it up before you do. With his own backpack on one shoulder, he’ll watch for the exact moment you’re done tucking your supplies away just to interrupt you as you’re mid-reach so he can scoop it up into his free hand by the top handle.
“I got it.”
Miles always pays for you guys’ dates. You knew this wasn’t abnormal when it came to relationships, seeing as he’s the guy, you’re the girl, and that’s just the ‘societal norm’ or whatever. It’s how your dad told you a male should treat the girl he’s with, and based off how Miles acts, you assumed his own father had given him the same speech as well before he passed. But even when you two take a stroll to the corner store to pick up some cheap snacks for a study session—the total coming out to as little as $4.37 for some sunchips and sour gummy worms—he still won’t let you pay.
He’s already getting his wallet out before the cashier can read the total off. And when you try and protest, he’s all—
“I got it.”
When your laces have come undone and you hadn’t noticed.
“Ma, your shoe’s untied.”
You’ll stop in your tracks and look down at your loosened laces, prepared to hand your phone off to him so you can bend down to tie them, and like always—
“I got it.”
When the pizza you ordered an hour ago finally shows up at the door and you get the ‘arrived’ notification on your phone—which he’s already seen because he’s always looking over your shoulder as you scroll your time away on tiktok, watching them with you as an excuse to be all up on you—you can bet your life on what his response will be.
“I got it.”
You knew he only wanted to be a gentleman, but at this point, you were convinced ‘I got it’ was his middle name instead of Gonzalo.
For a while now, Miles has felt like he has to take responsibility and do everything even when something isn’t asked of him, and you wanted him to know that same sentiment didn’t have to apply to the two of you. So you started trying to beat him at his own game.
Brushing past him and rushing down the concrete steps of his apartment building to make it to the passenger side door and open it for yourself before he can.
Keeping your backpack on the opposite side of your desk so you can have the chance to pick it up before him, even if it earns you a subtle glare each time. And while some days it really is too heavy for you to carry—heavy enough to make you question exactly what point you’re trying to prove here—you remain determined.
Having cash ready and smacking it down on the peeling countertop of the bodega before your snacks have even been rung up, and regardless of how insane you look and how the clerk squeezes his face at you to confirm that, the triumphant grin you give Miles (who’s struggling to contain a smile of his own) doesn’t falter.
“I got it.”
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webslingingslasher · 11 months
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peters nerdy side>>>> can we get more hot nerdy peter pretty pleaseeeee
nerdy peter makes me feral.
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Peter Parker was finally rewarded for all the shit he deals with. 
A teen, who was a silent walker in school, but a near lethal hero at night, one that has to deal with more stress and traumas than any other kid at seventeen. Night after night, his spirit being broken down a little more each bad guy he’s put away. 
Queens see a hero that keeps the streets clean. 
Sometimes, all Peter could see was someone’s dad, or husband, or son he was putting away. 
All that bullshit he’s been dealt, the bullshit about power and responsibility, was washed away when he finally got something good, something he really thought he deserved. 
He got you, and that’s why he’ll stop at nothing to keep you. 
“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”
Was it dumb to listen to Flash of all people? Maybe. 
Does he know more about girls and has a better track record at keeping them? Yes. 
But of course, just like how you were the one to approach him, ask him out, kiss him first and ask for him to be your boyfriend, he should’ve trusted you. Could you really blame him though, not totally trusting he can have a purely good thing with no consequences? 
He couldn’t, that’s why it shocked him when you made it clear you only wanted him. 
You wanted Peter Parker, however he came. Science facts, nerdy hobbies, tirades and all. 
—---------------------
Have you ever built up an idea of who someone was in your head, and when you date the other shoe drops and they’re nothing like you thought? 
That was you with Peter Parker. 
He was adorably perfect, noticing him when sharing a history class. Peter sat three seats up from you on the left, perfect position for you to watch his habits. The shake in his leg, tapping pencils on his desk, blowing a breath every time someone answered incorrectly, sitting up and leaning over his desk when something catches his attention, chewing his bottom lip while going over notes, poking his tongue out when he takes a test. 
Peter Parker was the constant subject on your mind, starting in history and causing you to look for him in other classes, you only shared one more, typing class. He was three rows behind you, there wasn’t a good way to look at him, instead having to rely on his quiet murmurs when the teacher stands behind his computer. 
After two weeks of pining you couldn’t stand it, stomping over to his table at lunch you sit down right next to him. His friends paused at your sudden and aggressive entrance. 
“Hi. We haven’t really talked but we share typing and history. For two weeks straight I’ve been watching you and I can’t get you out of my head, and I would really, really like to go on a date with you.” 
You can see it on his face, how he goes from shock to excitement, then as he looks you over his face falls. He thinks you’re fucking with him, you don’t know how to make him believe it’s real. 
“Here,” you pull at your backpack and rip the front pocket open, you pull a sharpie out and with a slight tremble you grab his arm, pushing his sleeve up you uncap the marker with your teeth. Scribbling your number onto his skin, “think about it, let me know.” 
Before you lose your steam you scramble to stand and grab your bag, “okay, that’s all. Um,” you nod at his friends, silence deafening as everyone at the table takes in the scenario. “Thank you, and… enjoy lunch?” Cringing, you turn to leave, whispering an ‘oh my god,’ to yourself while pressing a hand to your cheek. 
Peter is sure in that moment you were a hundred percent serious and you just mortified yourself, spilling your guts and being met with nothing.
 Six steps away he calls out, “yes!” 
You pause, then turn, “what?” 
“Yes! I’ll go on a date with you.” 
Oh, that’s a new feeling. It felt like your heart had wings, your stomach felt like you were on a rollercoaster, flutters everywhere. You couldn’t even try to play it cool, the guy you’ve been crazy about just as interested and curious as you were. A toothy smile overtook your face, eyes lit up. 
Taking a few steps closer, you felt giddy. 
“Really? You will?” 
Peter’s smile matched yours, he laughed through his answer, he can’t believe you actually like him that much. “Yeah.” Biting your bottom lip you pull it together, “cool, text me and we’ll plan something?” 
“You got it.” 
Nodding you walk off, Peter’s riding on a high like never has. He’s never had such a pretty girl like you like him, want him, notice him. He felt like he’s been rewarded, that he does deserve a good thing. 
Flash scoffs when you sit back at your table, immediately talking and watching faces gasp and squeal. 
“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”
The last thing he wants to do, before he even gets you, is send you off. So, he listens and promises to be someone that should be with a girl like you, someone that isn’t really him. 
—---------------------
You figured it was first date nerves. 
That or just the fact you’ve never been alone with each other, especially under the guise of a date. It wasn’t like he was weird, but he was off. The person you watched in class was goofy, using his body to express himself, confident when speaking because he could back every word up. 
This Peter was quiet, guarded and almost… boring. 
You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, he just had some jitters. Maybe if you kissed him it would settle him, you could prove that you liked him and he had nothing to be nervous about. Trying to look past his awkwardness you took the night as it was, wishing he was making you laugh like he had in class, or wishing he would ramble on in a story like you’ve watched him do with his friends at lunch or at his locker. 
It may have been different than you thought but he’d come around after a date or two surly, you’d kiss him and after another few dates he’ll open up and be his true self. It was hope, but you were riding on it. 
Peter ended the night by walking you home, conversation slowly dwindling as you approached closer, falling flat when you were  in front of the building. Waiting for a moment you looked at his mouth, he made no reaction, you hadn’t expected him to sweep you off your feet but to not offer anything made you feel unsure. 
“Can I kiss you?” 
It was obvious from the look on his face that he wasn’t expecting anything in the slightest, but he licked his bottom lip and nodded softly, “yeah,” leaning in you wait for a moment, he makes no move, he has to be extremely nervous, no other option. You kissed him, you pressed into him and grabbed his face, his hands gently hovered and you pulled away. 
Maybe he just pitied you, just agreed because you put him on the spot. 
“Um, you know if you didn’t want-” 
“Can we do this again, please?” 
And just because he asked, and because it seemed like he realized he acted off and he wanted another chance, and because you really do believe in first date jitters, you say yes. 
—--------------
The first time you went over to his house his room was oddly clean, empty spaces on his bookshelf and shelves, almost like he’d put things away. Eyeing a bin by his closet you walked closer, “you collect comics?” Hoping you wouldn’t find, but still opening the top and starting to look through the ones on top. 
Peter took a deep breath, “as a kid, kinda stupid now, don’t you think?” 
You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head, looking back down at the comic in your hand. You thought when you started dating he’d open up more, instead he got more closed off. 
Clearing your throat you place the comics back in, in the exact same order and putting the lid back on. “No, I don’t think they’re stupid. I was hoping you had some new ones I could catch up on, but if you think they’re stupid now I guess I’ll have to get ‘em myself.” 
If he had known you like comics he would’ve never said that. It’s his fault for leaving them out, he should’ve put them away like everything else that screamed ‘nerd alert’. 
“I didn’t mean they’re stupid, just you know… collecting them as an adult… is.. weird?” 
The lamest excuse you’ve ever heard, but you keep your patience. It hasn't even been two weeks, he’ll come around. You know it. 
—------
Surprising Peter with a hug he budged against your weight before supporting you, talking to a friend while he wrapped his arms around your back. Picking up on pieces of the conversation you nudge your head up, interested in his words. 
The Peter you like, the one that’s animated and rambling, moving his hands across your back as he talks. You place a kiss at the bottom of his neck, “whatcha talking about?”  It sounded like a new program that was going to change the future of computer engineering, when you questioned he blew you off. “Nothing important.” 
You had tried, you tried to be kind and patient and understanding but he just wasn’t who you wanted. You wanted that person, the person that’s excited about new technology and collected comic books. 
Peter closed off when you asked, guarded back up, you wished it could’ve been different. Maybe one day he’d open up more, you didn’t want anything but his true self. 
You gave it a month before you had to accept that Peter Parker wasn’t the person you thought he was, today, you had to accept that you were breaking up with Peter Parker. Pulling away you grab his arm, silently telling him to look at you. 
“Can I come over later?” 
“Yeah, of course. Wanna come with me after school?” 
“Sure,” you wondered if he could see through your smile. It doesn’t seem like it, he leans down and gives you a quick kiss, you pull away and back away through the halls. 
He has no idea what’s coming. 
—------------
Gently pushing Peter’s shoulders down to coax him into sitting on the edge of his bed, you grin politely when he follows instruction. Dragging his desk chair to sit in front of him you pause to think about what you were going to say, clearing your throat you begin. 
“So, I like you a lot, and I’ve enjoyed having you as my boyfriend for the past month-” 
Peter’s eyebrows furrow, he holds his hand up, “enjoyed? Are you breaking up with me?” 
You bite your lip and nod solemnly, “I’m sorry, Peter.” 
The silence is unsettling, you look away from him, his figures deflated and his mind races. 
“Why?” 
Taking a deep breath and blowing it out you shrug, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Peter. But, uh, you’re just… not what I thought you’d be like.” 
How could you not like him? He’s done everything right. He was the perfect suitor, he acted like the typical non nerd male. The kind of all american guy every girl wanted. 
“I don’t… what does that mean?” 
You laugh, “I have a type, and you’re not it. I like nerds, like, straight up goofy, funny guys that know something about everything and collect comic books and get excited at new, humanity altering technology. I thought you were that guy, but I guess not.” 
Oh my god. 
He’s fucked it all up, he was dumb enough to believe you wanted something else. 
He can show you he’s a nerd, he’s been one his entire goddamn life, he’s about to nerd olympics the hell out of you. 
Peter jumps from his seat so quickly it startles you, his hands come down on the armrests of your chair, the seat tilting backwards as he pushes his weight towards you. 
“I’m the biggest nerd you’ll ever meet.” 
Your seat jostles when he lets go and opens his closet, pulling out a box he sets it on his bed. 
“This is everything I put away when we started dating,” he turns with three rubik’s cubes, each one in various sizes. “,these are my rubik’s cubes, I can finish the standard in forty three seconds, the six by six took me about thirty minutes and this baby?” he bounced the biggest one in his hold, “, this is a twenty one by twenty one, it took me about three hours.” 
Peter dropped them to the bed and continued, “and this is my national championship trophy for chess club,” he shoves it in your face before he keeps digging, a small picture frames come next, “this is when I won the states most innovative science fair project,” frantic digging, “, this is a figurine of my favorite video game,” two large disc sets next, “lord of the rings and star wars,” 
He spins around, flying past your body where he picks up his comic book container, “remember when I was late to our date last week? I was getting these,” three new additions of an old comic you had just started to pick up, “, and currently?” Peter moved to his desk, tapping on his keyboard until his screen woke up, code covered the screen, he pointed between the monitor and a notebook, “I’m learning to read binary code.” 
You felt like the grinch because your heart grew the times the size, adoration blossomed, you could feel your chest crack and glow. The Peter you wanted, the person you thought he was from the start, was real and in front of you. 
This was who he was, so why was he hiding it? 
“Why did you hide that from me? Peter, that’s like, the entire reason I wanted to date you. I liked who you were, then you turned into someone else.” 
Peter rested against his desk and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I figured a pretty girl like you wouldn’t want some nerdy guy, it might be cute at first but when I’m stoked about something I read on wikipedia and make it my thing for a day and talk your ear off about it, you’re gonna wish you had a boyfriend that just watches sport clips for fun.”
That’s the point you were trying to make, “that’s what I want! I was literally dumping you because you weren’t that.” 
“Well, I am that. So there’s no point in breaking up, right?” 
You hum and spin in his chair, “I dunno… you dragged me along for a month, hiding yourself from me, making me question everything. I mean, you have a lot to make up for, parker.” 
“C’mere,” you’re not given an option, he reaches forward and pulls the chair towards him and pulls you from the seat, flopping himself down and tugging you into his lap. Your stomach clenches, this was the confident Peter you wanted, it was confidence in himself. 
His pointer finger taps on the monitor, “you read binary from right to left, and you separate them into groups of eight. Now the key is knowing that each one and zero mean-” 
Your mouth on his, cutting his words off with a kiss, you held his face tightly, never wanting him to separate from you. Caught off guard he froze for a moment, then wrapped his hands around your middle. Pressing into him, separating for air but giving small pecks. 
“Baby,” kiss, “, I’m sorry,” kiss, “, I shut,” kiss, “, you out,” kiss, “I didn’t,” kiss, “, know it meant,” kiss, “, so much,” kiss, “, to you,” kiss. 
“You’re so much smarter than me,” a chaste kiss, “it’s so hot,” you look into his eyes, he’s flushed out and breathing harshly. “You’re so hot,” another kiss, Peter feels like the room is spinning, he’s never felt so wanted, so needed, the way you can’t stop kissing him, how tight you’re holding him to you, how blown your pupils are, the way you’re gulping him like water. 
“I mean if you,” he grunts when you kiss down his neck, biting into his collarbone. “, if you want, I could show you how quick I can solve my rubik’s cube.” Your hands drag up his hair, gripping and tilting his head away, better access to nibble and lick the skin. “Or, recite the first seventy nine numbers of pi.” 
Attention caught, “you know the first seventy nine numbers of pi?” 
“Mm hmm, I could also tell you” a whimper,  “, all the elements. Want me to start rattling them off?” 
Kissing the middle of his throat you hum, “I’d rather you take your pants off.” 
For the first time in Peter Parker’s life, memorizing the periodic table got him laid. 
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gyusrose · 6 months
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➵ their reaction when you call them another member’s name prank -> enha
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⚠︎ angst? lil bit of fluff ? just the boys getting angry real quick, mild cursing
someone requested this but i accidentally deleted the request i’m so sorry 😭‼️‼️
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heeseung -> you know you shouldn’t pull such prank on hee, knowing how jealous he gets you were pretty much starting something you won’t be able to finish. you were feeling silly that day and decided to do it , why the hell not?
heeseung was sitting next to you on the bed you guys shared. he’s just gotten back from practice so he was very touchy and clingy. kissing all over your face and neck repeatedly , completely missing the camera facing the both of you. this was the perfect time. you giggled as he kissed you trying to push him away slightly.
“sunghoon stop-“ you said in between laughs.
the moment that name fell out of your mouth, he stopped. his whole demeanor changed in a matter of seconds.
“what did you just call me?” his voice was deep and serious.
“heeseung? that’s your name isn’t it?”
“no no no you said sunghoon, i heard it clearly, the fuck’s going on with you and him hm?” you looked at him like you were confused on what he was talking about.
“ what? nothing! i said heeseung you’re just paranoid.” he scoffed, now getting out of bed and made his way out of the room.
you giggled as you grabbed the phone recording and ran up behind him.
“babe !! it was just a prank, don’t leave!” he looked at the camera and rolled his eyes, facing anything but you.
“aw come on hee, it was funny !! you should’ve seen your face”
“don’t you scare me like that.”
sunghoon -> you and sunghoon were driving around the city. it was such a nice peaceful night. the two of you were just talking about your days when you thought of a not so great idea.
when sunghoon wasn’t looking you pulled up the camera app on your phone, knowing you’re gonna want this reaction saved. propping your phone were the two of you were on frame but also not making it obvious.
sunghoon was talking about something when you butted in.
“yeah that’s i’m saying jake- hoonie…sunghoon.” sunghoon stayed silent, side eyeing you slightly while still watching the road. you also stayed silent after your ‘mistake’ , waiting for his response.
the sudden break of the car startled you.
“say his name one more damn time..” sunghoon sternly said, now facing you.
“it was a mistake, you know i meant sunghoon!”
“you both are not even that close, we’ll not that i know of, why did his name come out of your mouth before mines? your own boyfriend?” his eyes never left yours, low key making you scared, you could feel his anger.
“you’re overreacting, just keep driving.”
“if you like the fucker so much then go be with him since-“ he stopped his tracks as he saw the small camera from your phone pointing straight at him.
it all immediately clicked in his head rubbing his temples and shaking his head in annoyance. you in the other hand couldn’t contain your laughter.
“smile you’re on camera” you said giving him a peck on his cheek.
“you had me thinking jake was better than me or something.”
jongseong-> going into the kitchen, smelling the enchanting smell of breakfast was the best feeling of the world, even more so, seeing the sight of your gorgeous boyfriend making it.
“ my princess is awake! sit down it’s almost ready.”
you sat down on the stole in from of him, watching him make the omelette on the skillet.
although you just woke up, you couldn’t help but think about this one prank you’ve been wanting to do on him for a while now. what a perfect way to start the morning right?
you started secretly recording as you continued the conversation with him like normal.
“ you look so fine right now heeseung, you’re perfect.”
jay’s hands dropped the fork he was using and slowly looked up at you.
while you looked at him with wide eyes ‘confused’ .
“ i’m sorry?” he was very offended, how could you even compare him to heeseung? what does heeseung have on you that would make you say his name all of a sudden?
“what ? you don’t like me calling you perfect?”
“you know what you said, y’all got something going on or?” he was not standing with his arms crossed, the most serious expression i’ve ever seen on his face.
“oh my god no jay! what makes you think that! i don’t even know what i did!”
“my name doesn’t even sound close to heeseung’s! you know what, i’m calling him right now an-“
“no no no babe stop stop it’s a prank look!” you showed him your phone recording.
his head leaned back letting out the biggest sigh.
“ it’s too damn early for this, don’t do that to me ever again.”
jaeyun -> “ babe let me teach you this new dance pleasee..” you said panning up the camera ask as you started recording.
jake sat up from his seat making his way to where you were standing. he was more than pleased, he loves this stuff.
“alright so you do this, then lift your arms up and then..” you kept explaining to him the made up dance you’re making him do, him following your every move. jake’s never seen this dance before, nevertheless he continues to copy you.
“but do this part really fast.” jake nodded at you doing the part you told him to do. now’s the time.
you shook your head, “ no jungwon, not that fast, like this!”
jake stood still, looking at you intently. “what? you did the move too fast now we gotta restart.”
“stop playing with me, the fuck did you just call me? jungwon?”
“ugh jake you’re probably mishearing, i said your name.”
“not at all i heard it very clear, what up with that?” he was annoyed and mad. what does jungwon have to do with any of this?
“jake calm down, i just mistook you guys, there’s a lot of you so-“
“but i’m your boyfriend! or is he? i don’t know what to believe anymore!”
you should’ve been laughing but you weren’t, you felt bad. you pulled jake into a tight hug catching off guard.
“it’s a joke, look. you know i love you and only you jakey.”
jake didn’t respond and kissed your lips passionately, you could feel the anger dissolving as the both of your lips connected.
sunwoo -> the two of you were occupied building a lego set. you loved spending time with sunoo like this, you were both pretty good at it.
y’all were conversing as you build your tower. sunoo was never in a bad mood with you, his smile is always present with your presence, so arguments almost never happen.
you shouldn’t have wanted to do this but you wanted to see how he would get, how would jealousy look on him. obviously not too harsh as well.
“ jay- i mean sunoo could you pass me the red piece over there.” you said signalling.
sunoo just stared at you in confusion, did he hear that correctly ?
“ say what?”
“could you pass me the piece?”
“no before that..”
“sunoo could you pass me the piece?”
“no, you said jay could you pass me the piece, then sunoo. why jay huh? “ his voice got louder making you startle.
“erm-no i just- i meant you. not him.”
he rans a hand through his hair sighing in annoyance. jay? really?
you couldn’t hold it in anymore and pinched his cheek. his eyebrows furrowed at your actions. how dare you do that after you pretty much cheated on him.
“it’s a prank baby, the camera’s right there! don’t be mad at me…” sunoo just sulked and pouted on his seat. no matter what, he always managed to look adorable.
“that wasn’t funny.”
jungwon -> the two of you were cuddling in bed watching television. every friday night would be spent like this and you weren’t complaining. having barely anytime for the two of you, times like these were immensely enjoyed by the two of you.
you didn’t want to ruin it but curiosity got the best of you. as jungwon’s eyes were on the television, you placed your phone on the nightstand to get at least the view of jungwon.
“ri-ki could you turn up the volume? “
his hands that were once tangled around your waist, disappeared hearing what you just said.
“ excuse you? i’m not ri-ki, since when are the two of you close like that? “ he sat up on the bed looking straight at you anticipating for your response.
“i meant to say jungwon, you. i got nothing with ri-ki.”
jungwon scoffed, “his legal name even, you’re not fooling me, what’s he to you?” your eyes widened at his demeanour. he was very angry. it was a rare sight to see.
“calm down, i just made a mistake. that’s it end of story.”
“you know what maybe you should be with him instead of me since apparently he’s more important than you own boyfriend.” he said getting up from the bed ready to leave.
“wonie! i’m just kidding, it’s all a joke.” you said showing the phone recording.
“oh my god you’re evil !! why would you do that? also why didn’t i notice the obvious phone looking straight at me?” he rolled his eyes walking back to the bed.
riki -> “don’t cry if you lose again.” niki said as he grabbed the controller and pressed the rematch button.
you rolled your eyes at his words. you were not bad but not good at the same time. he should be making you feel better instead of just laughing at you every time he kills you. as the two of you fought the last round, showing the K.O on the screen you sighed in frustration.
“babe just admit it, i’m just too good.” he chuckled, you weren’t going to take it. you smirked at the idea that just popped in your head, grabbing your phone and discreetly started recording.
“one more time.” you said, niki shook his head at your stubbornness but agreed on it anyways.
as you were fighting, y’all were just yelling stuff at each other trying to make the other lose.
“sunoo, can’t get up?” you said loud enough for him to hear you over the game.
his thumbs left the game controller giving you more than enough time to beat him and win (for the first time)
as you cheered, you looked over at niki and saw an emotionless face on his end.
“aww someone’s mad they lost!”
“it’s not about that, at all.” he glared at you.
“oh really?”
“sunoo? are you for real?”
“what are you talking about?”
“you called me sunoo, don’t play dumb. do i look like sunoo to you?”
“no ni-ki, you must be mistaken, i said ni-ki.” you said emphasizing his name.
he rubbed his forehead in frustration, he’s getting gaslighted right now.
“so you and sunoo hm? how’s it going for y’all?”
“ni-ki what? you know sunoo’s like a brother to me!”
“yea that’s what they all say..” he said under his breath.
“i’m not staying here, i need some space.” he said not before you grabbed his hand and engulfed him in a hug. ni-ki, though, pulled away.
“ask sunoo to give you a hug.”
“ni-ki!! it’s a joke! a prank you know? there’s my phone, right in your face!!”
ni-ki was still annoyed, he hated pranks on him.
“don’t prank me like that! it’s not that funny.” he said looking at you laugh in his face.
“so you can prank me all the time but i can’t?”
“exactly .”
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