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littlexdeaths · 7 hours

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scotty doesn’t know - e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: no use of y/n, cheating, protected piv sex, light degradation kink, spanking, phone sex kinda?, shitty boyfriend behavior, mentions of alcohol/partying, some angst, all characters are 18+!

series masterlist

based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra

a/n: i’ve worked so hard to spruce up this series and i’m so excited to be reposting it for you all. be on the lookout for the next two parts. this fic is my actual baby, and it means so much to me. i hope you all enjoy xx.

word count: 4.3k

It had started out as mostly a joke, a proposition that he never imagined you’d actually take him up on.

You always thought Eddie Munson, the town ‘freak’ was incredibly attractive, not that you’d ever voice that opinion to anyone. Mostly due to the fact that you had a boyfriend, who in the eyes of everyone in Hawkins— was the definition of perfect.

Scott McGuire was a great boyfriend… on the surface.

He was a star basketball player, friends with the most popular people in school. His family was loaded, despite being from a small town like Hawkins. He drove a Mercedes, and made you feel so special. When he had asked you out halfway through your junior year, you were over the moon.

And in the beginning of your relationship, you were beyond smitten with him. But after a year of dating him, you’d come to realize he was nothing you had wanted.

Scott was arrogant, vain and downright cruel. His biggest flaw being that he took absolute pleasure in causing pain to others. The main target of his rage was Eddie and his band of ‘freaks’. His best friend Jason was right by his side, constantly tormenting the group. But always Eddie more so than anyone else. You never enjoyed it, always finding a way to escape the moment an insult (or a punch) was thrown his way.

Despite all of this, you felt pressured to stay with him.

Your parents absolutely adored him and so did your friends. Most of which were the girlfriends of his friends. Your lives had become so interwoven you felt trapped. So to appease everyone else in your life, you continued the relationship. Even though you knew you didn’t love him.

In your eyes he was, all around, the worst boyfriend you could have landed… especially when it came to sex.

Scott was terrible in bed.

He only wanted you on his terms, only caring about his wants and needs. And in the year you’d been with him, he’d never made you come. Not once. At first you thought something was wrong with you, that you were broken.

But the more you talked with your friends on the cheer squad, the quicker you began to realize it was a Scott problem. Not a you problem. So you started faking it, your little act becoming so good that you even deluded yourself into believing it sometimes.

But that was how you got yourself into this predicament in the first place.

You were at a party at Chrissy’s, a celebration for the basketball team making it to the state championship. Initially you wanted to stay home, as parties were never something you enjoyed. But you knew how bad it would look if you didn’t show. So you went, swallowing your pride with a fake smile plastered across your face.

You let yourself fall into the role of the proud, doting girlfriend. You knew how to play it well, as it was second nature to you at this point.

At some point during the night Scott had pulled you into a random bedroom, with the promises of rocking your world. Those promises fell short, as they always did. Scott had you propped up on the unmade bed, gripping your hips as he pounded sloppily into you. The fake moans that left your lips somehow had convinced you both that you were enjoying yourself.

That is until the door swung open and a semi-tipsy Eddie Munson stumbled upon the scene. He was originally looking for the bathroom, much to the embarrassment of you both. You couldn’t hide the shame that flitted across your features, or stop your moans from faltering slightly.

Scott miraculously didn’t notice the intrusion as he continued to thrust into you, your fake moans continuing to fill the small bedroom. Your eyes were locked with Eddie’s as he stood frozen in the doorway. The two of you just stared at each other for a few moments, before he snapped out of whatever stupor he was in and quickly left the room.

You figured nothing would come from it, except for a new found embarrassment every time you saw him in class. But what you didn’t expect was for him to seek you out in study hall that following Monday.

You were in the library, searching for a new book to read when he cornered you. His curls were wild, that faded Hellfire shirt hugged his broad shoulders nicely. A playful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as you tried not to stare. But those brown eyes seemed to look right through you.

“You know, I’ve seen better acting in pornos.” He spoke softly, as not to embarrass either of you.

Or to alert Ms. Hall, the school librarian.

She was such a hard ass, especially when it came to talking in the library. You had hoped that maybe Eddie would’ve been too drunk to remember what happened at the party. Or both of you would ignore the situation.

But that clearly wasn’t the case. You can feel the embarrassment coursing through you as you actively avoided his curious gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Munson,” you sneer before turning on your heel, grabbing a random book off the shelf in the process.

You clutch the paperback closer to your chest as you quickly try to escape the conversation.

He doesn’t let you get very far though, trailing behind you before taking a seat next to you at one of the study tables.

“I mean it must be frustrating, faking it all the time,” he continues nonchalantly, resting a ringed hand next to yours on the table.

His fingertips drum against the faux wood, as you struggle to think of a reply. But your continued silence and flustered appearance spoke volumes as you began to fiddle with the frayed hem of your dress.

Eddie leans in closer, letting his breath fan across your face. The smell of his spicy cologne and a hint of smoke engulfs your senses, making your head spin.

He hums softly, keeping his voice low, “Just doesn’t seem fair. Any decent guy would make sure you were being treated well.”

You could feel his body heat due to the close proximity, biting your lip as you stopped yourself from leaning against him.

“He does treat me well,” you whisper back, glancing down at the book as you begin flipping through the pages.

Eddie scoffs at the notion as his hand reaches out to close the cover again. His fingertips brush against yours in the process, the small touch sending tingles down your spine.

The male glances around the mostly empty library before he leans in closer. His lips nearly graze the shell of your ear as you hold your breath in anticipation. Eddie chuckles deeply, enjoying just how flustered he’s made you.

“Well, if you want to know what it’s like to be properly taken care of…” he trails off, as you let out a shaky breath. “You know where to find me, sweetheart.”

The promise behind his words instantly makes your thighs clench together. Watching in stunned silence as he quickly gets up and strolls out of the library.

Those words sat with you for days, taunting you.

Finding yourself utterly frustrated, in more ways than one. You just couldn’t shake how badly you wanted to take him up on that offer. Morally, you knew it was wrong— you had a boyfriend.

But there was something that felt so right about it.

Despite your initial reservations, you very quickly found yourself in the back of Eddie’s van. Your legs were flung over his shoulders, your fingers tangled in his curls as his tongue had you seeing stars. It became blatantly obvious from your first time together that there was no way this could be a one time thing.

So you compromised, agreeing to meet up once a week. But only on Sundays, when you could give Scott the excuse of going to church with your parents. Ironically your family was not the church going type, but your boyfriend never questioned it.

However the longer you snuck around with Eddie, the more insatiable you became. Until it was almost a daily occurrence that you were under him, begging him to show you everything you were missing out on. It had surprised the both of you, but Eddie was more than happy to oblige.

But the constant sneaking around meant you couldn’t exclusively fuck in the back of his van anymore. Causing the both of you to become more creative in the process.

More than once you’d pull him under the bleachers in the gym once basketball practice ended. His ringed fingers tangled in your hair as you dropped to your knees. Or he’d bend you over the table in the drama room after a Hellfire campaign, dice and crushed cans of Mountain Dew falling off the table with each thrust of his hips.

But it still wasn’t enough, which led you to take more drastic measures.

You were on all fours, fingers clutching your floral bed sheets as Eddie pounded into you from behind.

Your parents were gone for the weekend to celebrate their wedding anniversary. Which left you with the house all to yourself, something that didn’t happen often. So this was an opportunity you didn’t want to pass up. Dialing his number before you even got out of bed that morning.

Regardless of his not so stellar reputation, it didn’t seem to sway a lot of women in Hawkins. And despite what Scott might have told you, Eddie has had plenty of sexual partners before. As many jumped at the chance to see if the rumors about the local freak were true. Which only seemed to fuel more rumors about the metalhead.

But out of everyone he had ever slept with— you were by far the neediest of them all.

Eddie couldn’t deny that he loved it. Knowing he was the only one who could turn you into a crying, blubbering mess. Not even seemingly perfect Scotty McGuire could make you feel this way. He would pay to see the look on his face if he could see just how wrecked you were.

Tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks as you begged the town freak to fuck you harder.

“Look at you, such a needy little slut,” he chuckles, condensation lacing his tone. “Couldn’t even wait a whole day for my cock, huh?”

Eddie was by far the biggest guy you’ve ever had, and he certainly knew how to use it. His cock reached places inside you that you didn’t know existed until now. So it was no surprise that you didn’t want to wait another day to see him again.

But deep down you knew that wasn’t the only reason you had called him over. However, you weren’t entirely ready to have that conversation with yourself yet.

“I… shit,” you mewl, finding yourself at a loss for words as he increased his pace.

Pathetic whines spill past your lips with each thrust of his hips, your walls gripping him tightly. Pleasure coursed through you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. A mixture of your arousal and his spit was smeared across your thighs. A reminder of where he’d been slotted between them earlier.

“Aww, come on, sweetheart,” he teases, nipping at your ear as he slows to a more gradual pace. “Be a good girl and tell me who’s making you feel so good.”

The orgasm that had been building in your abdomen suddenly fizzles out as he stills his hips at your deepest point. You nearly cry out in defeat as he lands a harsh slap on your ass.

You knew the rules by now, he needed to hear you.

“Y-You… fuck you are, Eddie.” He hummed in response, guiding your hips forward.

“That’a girl.”

The drag of his cock has you whining, the sound quickly being drowned out by the phone on your bedside table. You fully intended to ignore the shrill ringing as you began grinding your ass back against him. But he grips your hips to stop any further movement.

“Answer it.”

Your eyes widen as you glance over your shoulder at him, bewilderment crossing your features. There’s a smirk playing on his lips as he lands another slap on your ass, “That wasn’t a suggestion, sweetheart.”

You quickly fumble for the phone, not wanting this to end so soon. You’d come to realize just how much Eddie enjoyed teasing you the more you slept together. But you’d had enough teasing for one day.

So you place the receiver against your ear, trying to calm your erratic breathing, “H-Hello?”

You mentally curse yourself for the way your voice shakes, feeling your stomach drop at the voice on the other end of the line.

“You alright, babe? You sound winded,” you can hear the slightest bit of suggestiveness in his tone, having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

This was something you’d come to expect from Scott, the male always finding a way to bring sex into every conversation. Despite knowing he was actually spot on this time, only it wasn’t your fingers that were buried inside you.

But what you didn’t anticipate was for Eddie to start thrusting back into you at a leisurely pace. You bite down onto your lower lip for a moment before you laugh, the sound not at all genuine. But Scott couldn’t tell the difference, he never paid enough attention.

“I’m great, Scott.” Your breath hitches in your throat as Eddie’s lips graze over your shoulder, “J-Just in the middle of a… workout.”

You hear Eddie laugh softly behind you, the male on the other end blissfully unaware of the kind of workout you were currently engaged in. Despite your initial reservations about answering the phone, you couldn’t deny the rush it gave you. Almost wanting to be caught like this.

“You still swinging by the party tonight?” Scott asks, as you continue to pulse around Eddie’s thick shaft.

His thrusts deepen, slipping a hand between your thighs to rub your sensitive clit. Your thoughts are completely jumbled as you try to stay engaged with the conversation. But it’s proving to be difficult.

“P-Party?” You breathe out, gripping the receiver tighter in your palm.

You can hear your boyfriend’s annoyed sigh, knowing he was rolling his eyes as your own rolled into the back of your head. Eddie grunts softly in your other ear as he rams into your sweet spot. It took every bit of your remaining self restraint to not moan directly into the phone.

“It’s Tommy’s birthday. I told you about it last week,” he huffs, clearly no longer amused.

You vaguely recall the conversation, but lately you’d found yourself tuning him out more and more. Having much more important things to occupy your attention.

“Right! No, I remember now.” Your words come out whinier than you intended, but Scott doesn’t seem to notice.

You were getting close, and Eddie knew it too.

“So? Are you coming?”

Eddie stifles another laugh at the unintended joke.

He quickly wraps his ringed fingers around the base of your throat and lifts you, so your back is now flush against his sweaty chest. The new angle allows him to slip even deeper inside, causing a gasp to escape you. You quickly disguise it as a cough, before answering your boyfriend.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Listen, I-I gotta go. See you tonight.”

You hang up the phone before he even has a chance to respond. The loud moan that was trapped in your throat is finally set free, earning a groan from the male behind you.

Eddie’s disheveled curls began tickling your face as he leaned toward your ear again, “Bet he didn’t suspect a damn thing, huh?”

You can hear the smugness in his tone, whimpering as he puts more pressure on your clit.

“Cause he can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he, sweetheart?” You frantically nod your head before letting it fall back onto his shoulder.

You know you can’t hold out for much longer, and judging by the way his cock twitches inside you— Eddie won’t either.

His lips attach themselves to the curve of your neck, sucking harshly as you tremble in his arms.

“Ed… f-fuck I’m gonna—” you are unable to finish your thought as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you.

He nearly growls as you cry out his name again and again, the sound being his undoing. He spills into the condom with a grunt of your name, his chest heaving as he buries himself at your deepest point. The sounds of his erratic breathing mixes with yours, filling the now quiet space of your bedroom. Feeling utterly weak in the best way possible.

And if his arms weren’t securely wrapped around your waist, you would’ve collapsed face first into the mattress.

You stay entangled like that for a few moments while you both come down from your highs. Enjoying the way his lips press against the curve of your shoulder.

Eddie’s actions are gentle now, carefully guiding your hips up to slip out of you. He coaxes you to lay on your back, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you gazed up at him. As amazing as the sex was, what came after was just as enjoyable.

Emotionally, your boyfriend was always unavailable.

Especially after a round in the sheets, he was particularly cold. In the year you’d been together Scott had never once held you or comforted you. It always left you with an overwhelming sense of shame— of feeling used.

So naturally you had expected the same kind of treatment from Eddie, as you had never experienced aftercare before. After that first time together you had begun to put your clothes back on, attempting to leave right away.

But he stopped you with a soft, “Don’t go.”

It didn’t take much convincing as you laid your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He kept you tucked in his embrace for hours, fingertips dancing along your hip. From that moment on it was the same treatment. His affection only increased the more you fooled around.

Your eyes follow him as he rises from the bed to toss the condom in your trash bin. Giving Eddie the opportunity to finally take a look around your room.

You suddenly felt nervous as he made his way over to your record collection, flicking through the vinyls with the utmost care. While your popularity status had recently changed due to dating Scott, you always felt out of place amongst them. You could never be your full authentic self, in fear of rejection from your peers.

Eddie seemed to find a record that he liked, sliding it out of its sleeve and placing it on the turntable. It is quiet for a moment, the crackle of the record is almost comforting. Soon the beginning notes of the Labyrinth soundtrack fill that silence. You instantly feel shy, not expecting him to choose that album in particular.

Your boyfriend had teased you relentlessly for your love of David Bowie, always complaining about how weird he was. It made you feel ashamed to talk about any of your interests, most of which you’d hidden away in fear of being mocked.

But with that small act Eddie had proved, once again, that he was superior to Scott in every way imaginable.

He begins to hum along to the opening track, grabbing his boxers from the pile of your discarded clothes on the floor. Sliding the checkered material back over his legs, the fabric hanging low on his hips. You bite your lip as your eyes drift over his pale skin, zeroing in on the patch of hair that descended into his waistband.

“Keep giving me those eyes and we’re gonna have a problem, princess.” He teases, his smirk widening as he catches you ogling him.

You feel your body flush as he shoots you a playful wink before slipping into your adjoined bathroom. You hear the tap turn on, the rush of water mingling with the sultry baritone of Bowie’s vocals. You allow your body to relax against the mattress, a sense of calm washing over you.

Eddie wasn’t gone for long, emerging from the bathroom with a glass of water and a damp washcloth. He sets the glass on your nightstand, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. The male carefully parts your legs, pressing a kiss to your knee as he cleans up the mess of salvia and slick that has dried onto your thighs.

You let your eyes linger on his face, watching him in complete admiration. His cheeks are tinged pink, no doubt from the weight of your gaze. He’s also not used to being regarded with such gentleness.

Eddie sheepishly avoids your eyes as he stands, tossing the used cloth into your hamper. You scoot into a sitting position to take a few sips of water from the glass. Blatantly checking him out as he bends over to grab another piece of clothing from your carpeted floor.

“Arms up,” he instructs, allowing him to pull your oversized shirt over your head.

He quickly joins you again, causing a small giggle to escape you as he squeezes himself onto your twin sized mattress. The male grins, allowing you to drape your body over his. You tangle your limbs together, instinctively resting your head on his chest.

Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to the steady beat of his heart in your ear. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head.

In moments like this, it was easy for you to pretend that Eddie Munson was all yours.

There were no worries about being caught, or what anyone in this god forsaken town had to say about it. But the more time you spent with him, the more you began to realize that you wanted him all to yourself.

You knew it was incredibly selfish, he didn’t deserve to be someone’s secret side piece. So you kept these newly emerging feelings to yourself.

“You feeling okay?” His voice cuts through your thoughts, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “I wasn’t too rough or anything, was I?”

Eddie’s tone was vastly different from how he’d spoken to you earlier, and yet it only made your adoration for him grow. Knowing he truly cared about your feelings, it wasn’t just a courtesy.

His hand gently caresses your sore ass, his fingertips continuing to ghost over the curve of your spine. The tenderness of his actions made you shiver as you nuzzled your face back into his chest.

“It was perfect.” You hum, voice echoing your contentment, “You were perfect.”

Gentle, rough or anything in between— you’d be grateful as long as it was with him.

You were sure he could feel the warmth that had begun to seep into your cheeks at your admission. Reaching out his hand to delicately grasp your chin, tilting your head up to meet his curious gaze.

But it wasn’t just curiosity that shone through his eyes.

There was something else. Something deeper simmering beneath the surface of his irises.

This was uncharted territory for you, as no one, not even your boyfriend had regarded you in such a way before. But that single look alone made your heart flutter rapidly against your ribs.

You both begin to lean in without realizing, lips brushing together as you cradle his jaw. This was something completely new for both of you. While you’d kissed plenty of times, it never happened after the sex ended.

This was quickly becoming a dangerous game, one neither of you had any intention of losing.

And as hard as you tried to avoid your feelings, you knew you were starting to fall for him. Which was the most dangerous game of them all.

Your lips continued to move against each other for what felt like forever, only breaking apart to catch your breath every so often. Kissing Eddie was just as addicting as every other part of him, and you never wanted it to end.

So you stayed like that for hours, stealing kisses in between gentle words. He told you about his home life with Wayne, how he’d listened and memorized every single chord of Master of Puppets until he got it right. Little things that made you understand exactly who Eddie Munson really was.

But time seemed to pass by in an instant, the evening sky bathing the walls of your room in a golden hue. A signal that it was time for him to leave.

You felt a tug on your heartstrings as you watched him slide open your bedroom window, desperately wishing the circumstances were different.

“Wait!” you call as he was already halfway through the window, flashing you a grin as you bounded over to him.

You press a searing kiss to his mouth as he cups your cheek, neither of you quite willing to be the first to pull away.

“I gotta go,” he tries to mask the disappointment in his tone, pressing one last kiss to your lips before slipping out of your window completely.

You watch as the male clumsily jumps down from the second story, his wallet chain jingling upon impact. Eddie takes a moment to steady himself before he turns back to glance up at you. Giving you a little bow before he’s off, cutting through your neighbors yard to get back to his van.

You can hear the blaring guitar of Quiet Riot as he starts up the engine, the rumble echoing in your ears as he takes off down the empty street.

Taking a little piece of your heart with him.

tagging some peeps who seemed interested 💕

@xxbimbobunnyxx @vamp-bunny @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lokis-army-77

and a special shoutout to my bby @undead-supernova for always being my lil cheerleader ily 🫶🏻

#the freak writes 🫧#my series: scotty doesn’t know 🫧#eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson angst

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 3 days

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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fifteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6.5K (I got carried away again)

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Crying, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

**************************************

Present Day *Reader POV*

The shopping bags that hung from your arms would have been heavy for the average person, but for you it seemed like a bag full of pillows. It was the day after you saw Rosemary and said goodbye. Despite the almost excruciating hangover you had this morning, because it'd been almost forty years since you last had a drink, you dragged yourself to the mall to try and find outfits for your trip to Russia. You were satisfied with the few outfits you found, but you were worried because the plane left in a few hours and you were no where near ready.

Mentally or physically.

As much as you wanted to go help Ben, you still were apprehensive about the whole situation, not just about going in blind, but wondering what the hell you were going to do when you saw Ben. You wanted to hold on to your anger, but you were afraid that the moment you looked into his green eyes you would forgive him.

I am not going to forgive him. I'm going to break him out then tell him to fuck off and I never have to see him ever again.

Despite your apprehension, you knew that you had to do this, that you had to go help him even if you still hated him because you couldn't bear the thought of the boy you grew up with being tortured over there all alone. It was the alone part that hurt the most. You knew how much Ben hated being alone. He never had to say it out loud, but all the time you'd spent together in your bedroom before and after the injection spoke volumes.

Of course you still had no idea where you were going, but figured that if you went to the Kremlin you could get some answers, which meant you'd either have to lie your way in or just kill anyone in your path. Which would be messy, but necessary. You try to shake off the guilt of exposing yourself again and what that could mean for Rosemary and Lou. You made sure that Rosemary knew to pack a bag for herself and for Lou and told her to wait for your call.

You wanted to be there to escort them out of the city, didn't want to split up and have them get snagged while you were waiting for them at the rendezvous point, so you told Rosemary to take a few days off and lay low.

When you get to the outside door of your apartment building toting the bags, you notice that it's been broken, as if someone tried to pull it off its hinges.

Well that's great. Hopefully the building manager noticed that.

Your mind drifts back to Ben as you step into the elevator.

What if he isn't alive when I get there? It was an unwelcome thought, but it meant that you wouldn't have to talk to him.

Maybe if I knock him out when I get there and just leave him in a Russian motel somewhere, I won't have to talk to him. You pause. Will he want to talk to me?

The memory of the last time you spoke flashes through your mind bringing an unmeasurable amount of rage and heartbreak back over your body. The dam you built to keep out everything that happened was reaching capacity, especially given the recent events with Countess, and you knew that the moment you saw Ben it was going to burst open. You hoped that you'd be able to keep it together long enough to get out of the lab or wherever the hell he was being held, before you lost it. But it was doubtful.

As you walk down the hallway to you apartment, you notice that your front door is open and you stop walking. Apprehension spikes at the back of your mind as you examine the door. The lock is broken and door is cracked just enough for you to hear people talking inside in hushed tones. You creep forward and look through the crack.

You've got to be kidding me. You groan to yourself noticing Butcher and Hughie standing in your living room.

Great. Just what I need. Right when I'm going to leave they show up. Guess that explains the mystery of the broken door downstairs.

You think about walking away, of going back down the elevator and hoping that by the time you come back they would be gone, but you knew you had to face them and you still had to pack. So you push open the front door of your apartment and step into the room.

"You know when I called saying that I had something else to say about Soldier Boy, I assumed you would call, not break into my apartment." You sigh before moving to the right side of the counter that divides the room between the living room and the kitchen and depositing the shopping bags on the stainless steel top.

"Maybe you shouldn’t leave your apartment unlocked poppet. Anyone could walk in." Butcher replies with a grin.

"Hmm. Sure. You guys here for more coffee?"

"Go shopping did you?" Butcher ignores your snark eyeing the bags.

"Yeah I needed a few new outfits for my art show next month." The lie is easy, but you know that the sudden appearance of the two of them probably meant you were caught red handed. Of course now with everything that happened with Countess, you didn't care anymore if Butcher and Hughie knew who you really were. "You doing okay there Hughie?" You raise an eyebrow as you notice how his heartbeat has spiked since you entered the apartment.

"Good." He says, but he looks uneasy.

Well, guess he's afraid of me now.

"Huh. And here I thought you were replacing your jacket." Butcher throws your ruined jacket onto the floor between you.

You look from the jacket to Butcher. You hadn't bought a replacement and hadn't wanted to throw it out. You were still hoping that the scorch marks looked like you had "distressed" it. It didn't and you knew that, but you loved that coat so much.

"See, I think it’s a big coincidence that Countess got right fucked after we came and talked to you." Butcher smiles.

"Probably the same coincidence as Gunpowder dying before you showed up here the first time." You breeze with a tight-lipped smile.

Where was he going with this? Was he here to kill me? You think about what Legend said about Butcher killing supes.

"That looks bad." Butcher gestures to the jacket. "You have a little spat with your good friend?”

"Let's just say she said a few things that upset me." Your eyes skate from Butcher to Hughie sizing them up. "If you're here to kill me, you're welcome to try. Oh sorry, 'arrest me'." You make air quotes around the words. "But we both know you're not government agents, you reek of Compound V and the last time I checked there was that whole, no supes in the government thing."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to get this out of the way the first time?" Hughie asks.

"I didn't want to be involved." You shrug your shoulders.

"Then why you'd buy a plane ticket to Russia?" Butcher takes a step towards you, but you hold your ground.

You weren't afraid of him.

"I hear it's nice this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. Very pleasant." You snap back at him eyes narrowed, before you look down at the antique watch on your wrist. "Look I'd love to have a heart to heart, but I just don't have time to do this little dance with you. So we can either get to the part where you try to kill me or-" You raise your gaze from the watch to glare back at Butcher, but then your eyes focus on the hallway behind him and your heart stops.

Ben is standing there in the shadows looking at you the same way he always has, with those wonderful piercing green eyes that makes all other memories of them be put to shame. He's dressed in modern clothes, wearing a dark green shirt that hugs his perfect muscular chest and is the same color of his suit, your favorite color and the one you can never look at without thinking of him because damn it, it's also the color of his eyes. He looks the same, but different. His hair is longer and darker than it was the last time you saw him and his cheeks are covered by a trimmed but thick beard. It was unusual given that you'd never seen him with more than just a little bit of stubble and annoying because it makes him look even more ruggedly handsome, but despite the piercing way his eyes follow you, you can see a haunting memory of the last forty years.

You're upset that the one of the first thoughts you'd had beside staring at him open mouthed is that you wished you were wearing something more flattering than one of your pairs of paint splattered overalls over an old band t-shirt. You were going to Russia to get him and yes maybe you were shopping for things that you could move in, but you had picked out a particular revenge outfit that you believed would make Ben regret everything he did to you and also might have been paired with a particularly badass set of boots that made your legs look very long. The outfit that made you feel beautiful and sexy was unlike the one you were wearing at the moment. Also because you hadn't brushed your hair today and had just stuck it up in a messy bun at the back of your head.

You're struck with the urge to run to him and kill him at the same time, but you can't move and you can’t think.

Apart of you believed that you would find him dead in Russia, a sad thought but it meant that you wouldn't have to relive everything all over again. Everything that went to shit the last 24 hours you spent together that you relived with Countess the other day and now you were reliving when you looked at him standing there looking better than he should.

Because damn it, only Ben could be tortured in a lab for the past 40 years and walk away looking like a GQ model. I've never hated anyone more.

"Ben?" Your voice is no more than a hoarse whisper.

Ben pushes past Hughie and Butcher, taking careful steps towards you like he doesn't want to scare you away. "Y/n." The sound of your name on his lips fills you with an inescapable amount of warmth.

Traitor. You think to yourself at your body’s reaction.

He's standing so close to you now that you can smell the same shampoo and aftershave he always used and it brings back memories of the nights he spent in your bed with you laughing and talking like nothing had changed making you feel alive again for the first time in forty years. Before everything went into the blender set to puree.

Ben's eyes trace your body like he can't believe you're standing in front of him making you wish again that you're wearing the outfit you picked out so that you could look as good as he does. And just as he raises his hand towards your face you remember why you hated him, remember that night, remember what Countess said that caused her to lose her head.

Your hand flashes out so quick you don't think Ben notices it until it lands with a resounding slap against his cheek that sends him reeling back from you. Your strengths were similar, almost identical, and if he hadn't been invulnerable it would have ripped his perfect jaw from his face.

"What the fuck was that for?" Ben snaps, green eyes blazing as he looks back at you.

"You've got some nerve coming back here after all these years." You spit, the anger rising in your chest with wings of fury that beat against your ribcage. "Did you really think that you could just say my name again and make me forget everything that happened Benjamin? I am not one of those trashy women that you used to fuck and the fact that you think you can show up here, give me the fucking puppy dog eyes, and think that I’ll swoon, is ridiculous!”

There goes the dam.

Your gaze levels on Hughie and Butcher who look just as stunned. "And you two. Why did you bring him here? I didn’t want any part of this!”

"Why did you pretend to be dead!" Hughie shouts back.

"Did you think that maybe that was me trying to tell you that I didn't want to be involved? Or are you two just that fucking stupid?"

"Why did you buy a plane ticket then?" Butcher asks again, raising an eyebrow.

Ben is watching you with anger burning in his eyes. It's difficult for you to look at him. Every time you do you think about your last night together, the morning after when he pushed you away, and finally the night where he ripped out your heart and stomped all over it.

How did I ever think I could look at him again when I got him out of Russia?

"Because even though I hate him. He doesn't deserve that. The Ben I knew would have come to get me, and I wasn't going to leave him to rot in some fucking Russian prison." You snap back. "Now get out of my apartment."

"Sweetheart-" Ben begins to say.

"No. No. No. I don't want to hear it from you. Nothing you can say can make this better. I’m glad you’re free or whatever, but go. Get out." You push past him, but Ben's hand flashes out and grabs your wrist with enough force that you feel the bruising of your skin.

"No." He towers over you.

"Let. Me. Go." Your eyes narrow shifting to bright purple. The entire room begins to tremble, the glass windows shake in their panes and the glass jars full of paint brushes on your studio table begin to clink against one another. But he doesn't remove his hand.

"Not until you listen." Ben's own green eyes have hardened into a emerald.

You latch onto the wrist that is holding you and break his grip, before spinning and throwing him backward across the room away from you. Ben's body flies past Hughie and Butcher who watch with wide eyes as he hits the back of the couch and pinwheels over it with a loud thud as he lands on the cushions. You would have rather thrown him into the brick living room wall, but you restrained yourself.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say Benjamin. You said enough that night and apparently you were saying lots of things to Countess about me. So get out." Your eyes skate across Butcher and Hughie. "All of you."

Hughie is still watching you with wide eyes, like he can't believe that just happened.

Join the club kid.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben shouts, standing from the couch and straightening his clothes. You don't need to be a psychic to know how angry he is. In fact, you're surprised he's not throwing you out the window or at least throwing a punch. Ben didn't tolerate it when anyone put him in his place and it definitely looks like it's taking him an extreme amount of effort not to attack you, given the way his hands are clenched into fists and the way his jaw is tensed so tightly you can see the muscle flexing.

"She told me what you said about me. That you threw me a pity fuck because you felt sorry for me, that you were bored when we had sex because I was so inexperienced."

"It's not true."

"Isn’t it?" You're trying desperately not to cry, but the angry tears have already begun to well up in your eyes. "The last thing you sad to me was that I was pathetic and that you never would love me, never could love me. That you fucked me because you felt bad for me and you wished I would just fuck off. That I was just another warm pussy and that I meant nothing to you. So forgive me for not believing you."

"Oh shit." Butcher mutters under his breath.

"Damn." Hughie echoes.

"I know what I said to you, Y/n. I've spent the past 40 years regretting it-" Ben begins to say, but you interrupt him.

"Oh I'm so sure. The Great Soldier Boy actually has a conscience, let me just alert the media." You spit back. "Oh wait, sorry you wouldn't want that getting out would you Ben? Because that would mean you aren't a man."

"Y/n-" He growls.

"You don't get to come in here and apologize and act like you did nothing wrong. You're not here because you feel sorry, you're here because you want me to dote on you, to follow you around and give a shit like I did for 40 fucking years.”

“Y/n-“

"Stop saying my name like that!" You shout and the glass sugar dish on the counter flies off the counter and smashes into the floor sending shards of glass everywhere.

Hughie flinches.

"Like what?" Ben exclaims.

"Like you care." You cross your arms over your chest staring him down because you don't want to keep crying.

"I do fucking care about you-" Ben snaps running his hand through his dark hair frustrated.

"No you don't. You never did. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

"Yes I do."

"Please stop talking."

"What else do you want me to say?" Ben shouts back, moving towards you. "I'm trying to fucking apologize-"

"I don't want you to say anything and I don't want to hear your half-assed apology! I want you to leave. You and your creepy friends." You gesture back to where Hughie and Butcher are watching with open mouths, who are unsure if they should leave or watch the show.

"They're not my friends."

"And neither am I! Which means I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say!”

"Y/n please-" His teeth are gritted together.

“I'm not some fangirl Ben. I was your friend, your friend before any of this. Before any of this fucking supe shit. I cared about you. I had been in love with you since I was 8. I had taken care of you since the night we met." More tears squeeze down your cheeks as a lifetime of happy memories before everything went down the drain wash over you. The wonderful times you'd shared together at the park, in your bedroom back in Philadelphia, dancing in the dancehall, at baseball games and Ben walking you home all the while you wobbled down the street drunkenly and sang off key. All the blissful little moments that you thought maybe he felt the same way about you and then followed by the moments you spent together the night of your birthday, when you felt more special and loved than you'd ever had. It makes the knife he stuck in your back even sharper.

"That night we spent together meant everything to me. I thought it was special and I thought you loved me. But you don't. You just fucked me because you were bored and you found the first person who said yes.” Your body turns away, but he grabs you by the shoulders to make you look at him.

"I do love you damnit!" He shouts. "I didn't want to-" Ben's jaw clenches in frustration, looking back at Butcher and Hughie. "Can you two just fuck off?"

"I wish you all would." You say, trying to loosen his grip on your shoulders, but he doesn't let go. You think about throwing him across the room again, because it made you feel a lot better.

"Fine. We'll be outside." Butcher says tugging Hughie away.

"Are you sure?" Hughie asks looking from you to Ben as if he's worried to leave the two of you alone.

"You want to be here? Because they're either going to kill each other or start fucking." Butcher responds.

"We are not going to start-" You begin, but they're already out the front door of your apartment leaving you alone with Ben, who is still holding on to your shoulders.

"Please listen to me." Ben says looking deep into your eyes. "When you said that you loved me it-" He stops looking for the right word as if he can't say the next ones that come out of his mouth. "Oh fuck it, it fucking scared me. Okay? It scared me, Y/n, and damnit I'm not a pussy! I'm not afraid of anything!"

“Oh no you could never be a pussy could you? Soldier Boy could never admit that he had real feelings for someone.” Your voice wobbles, tears trailing down your cheeks as you poke him in the chest to emphasize every word. “And now you’re just saying what I want to hear, because you want to have another quick fuck!” You push your hands against his chest trying to push him off of you, but he won't let go. "You're just saying it because its been forty years since you had sex and you thought, huh might as well find the most pathetic person I know, Y/n won't say no if I pretend to be everything she wanted again."

He doesn't mean it. He doesn't love me.

"I’m not lying to you! And I’m not pretending! I wasn't pretending that night either!” Ben roars so loudly you flinch. “That night I felt things with you that I had never felt with anyone else. It wasn't cheap sex or a quick fuck-" His jaw tightens as if he's embarrassed to admit it. "Damn it.” His teeth are gritted together. “We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I’m ready now, I’m not scared anymore. I love you!”

He's saying everything you always wanted him to, but you're scared. Scared that he's just saying it, that he thinks it's what you want to hear and this is the only way that he can get you back into his life because he needs someone to follow him around, because he can't be alone.

You stand there for a minute taking in his stance. His head is slightly bowed in shame, shoulders tight, body leaning towards you. But then you catch his eye, you see the sorrow, frustration, and pain in his gaze. Ben was not big on sharing feelings and for him to admit all of these things aloud was shocking enough without the obvious emotions flashing in his eyes. It was so different than the stoic or pissed off attitude he usually had when he was Soldier Boy. The look in his eyes is so earnest and Ben has never been a good liar, not to you anyway. You always knew what he was thinking.

If I forgive him then what does that mean? I forget the past 40 years like they never happened? I forget all the tears when he broke my heart? Forget how broken I was? How broken I still am?

You think of all the times you missed him, all the times you forgot about what he said to you and remembered the good, all the times you wanted him there with you and Rosemary because you knew he would love to be there. All the early memories together, all the missions, everything that lead up to the falling out and Ben’s supposed death. Ben's admission of guilt and his confession of love for you was shocking. Especially because the Ben you knew 40 years ago would have rather dropped dead than say the words "make love."

No. I won't give in. I can't do this, I can't do this all over again. I was better, I was moving on, he doesn't have the right to come here and mess up my life all over again.

"No." You shout, shoving him away with all your strength. Ben stumbles backward, his eyes wide as if he wasn't expecting you to push him away, because of course he wasn't. “You don’t know anything about love. You’re just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear, what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”

He still doesn't understand how much he hurt me. And he doesn't deserve my forgiveness.

“I’m not just saying that, it’s true. Please y/n-“

"I don't believe you. And when I said I never wanted to see you ever again I wasn't lying. So get out Ben!" You shout.

"No. I love you and I'm not leaving." Ben says back determined.

You weren't prepared for what those words did to you. You weren't prepared for the floodgate of emotions that exploded the moment those words passed through his lips or the way it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. Because despite wanting to throw him across the room again, those three little words made you want to run into his arms and hold him close, made you want him to take you to bed and make you forget all the shitty things that happened forty years ago, make it like he never left.

But you couldn't do it. As much as you wanted to forgive him, you couldn't because you didn't trust him anymore, you didn't trust that he could give you what you wanted.

“Too bad! I won’t do this to myself again. All I did was care about you, help you. I stood by you and made excuses for the person you became and I held on to this picture of the boy you used to be. The one I fell in love with. The one that used to climb in my window when things were hard. The one that took me to my first baseball game. The one who danced with me. The one that made me feel like less of a freak because he understood me. And the one that begged me to leave Howard and everything I knew and come with him. That night we were together I saw that boy again. I loved that boy. I would have done anything for him and I did. But he’s not here anymore. And I hate myself for holding on to him as long as I did.”

"But I told you I loved you!" Ben exclaims.

“Just saying that isn’t enough, not after everything that happened!” You shout. "You're forty years too late Benjamin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted and I’m going to go to bed. And I don’t want you to be here when I wake up.”

"Y/n please-" You hate how he sounds when he says it, like he's broken, because Ben has never once sounded that way in all the years you'd known him. You hate how he looks. How his dark hair is falling forward into his face and he looks so much like the boy you used to love that it makes you want to scream, because you wanted to believe that he was gone, but all you see when you look up at him is that boy. There is not one shred of Soldier Boy in the way he looks right now and you hate that. You hate that you wanted to forgive him, that all it took was him looking like at you like that. But you still can't do it.

"Just go." Your throat thickening as you say it, fresh tears trailing down your cheeks. "I don't want you here. I never want you to come here ever. I never want to see you again.” You lie pushing past him and walk down the dark hallway, slamming and locking your bedroom door behind you. Your body sinks to the floor as you pull your knees up into your chest, sobs shaking your body and tears pour from your eyes.

How many tears can I spend on one man? How do I still have any left after all these years? How could I have been stupid to think that I was over him? That I could just go to Russia, break him out, and then push him out of my life so easily? None of what just happened was easy.

Your face presses into your knees. You want to call Rosemary, call her and tell her what happened, but your phone is still on the counter and you couldn't go back out there, because you knew he was still there. Standing in your living room looking too perfect after all these years and saying all the things you always wanted him to and you don’t want to go out there and forgive him.

So you stay. Your back pressed against the door, crying into your knees and hoping that this will just all end.

Because it’s got to one day right?

***************************************************

*Soldier Boy POV*

He hadn't meant to reach for you, but all he wanted was to feel the gentle swell of your cheek beneath the palm of his hand, the smoothness of your skin against his rough fingertips, and to memorize the planes of your face with his touch. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. Your curves perfectly accentuated by a pair of cute paint splattered overalls that made him smile, and your hair pulled away from your face in a messy bun but still made you look effortless and striking. When he saw you standing there, it was like taking a punch to the gut. He knew that he missed you, but seeing you there warm and alive made him want to crush you against his chest and never let you go ever again.

He had laid himself bare before you, allowing himself to push through the urge to shove all his emotions back beneath the surface as his father taught him, and spoke, instead, the words he wished that he had said all those years ago.

Ben's shoulders tense when he thinks of what you shouted back at him, how broken you looked. His heart falls into the pit of his stomach when he remembers the tears in your eyes. Ben hated it when you cried. He also hated that the first time he saw you in forty years he made you cry, again.

He didn't know how to fix this. Ben thought that his apology would be enough to make you at least try to forgive him, but it hadn't. You had shoved him away from you, refused to let him touch you or comfort you-

Why is she so damn stubborn? I apologized! I told her that I loved her! Isn’t that what she wanted?

He grits his teeth together thinking about how you threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. If anyone else had done that to him, Ben would have killed them, but he knew that he deserved it. He knew you would be mad, but he thought that you would at least want to hear everything he had to say instead of cursing him out and slamming the door in his face.

When you slammed your door behind you, he had stood outside of it for an hour listening to you cry, heard your soft muffled sobs. At one point he leaned his head against the door and wished you would let him in so he could hold you while you cried, even though the thought made him feel like a pussy. He wanted to comfort you. He wished you had forgiven him, allowed him to take you to bed, allowed him to show you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. He wished that you let him help you forget the last shitty forty years that you spent without him, forget what he said and what he did to you that night.

The harsh words you yelled at him make him flinch, when you told him that you didn't want him there and never wanted him to come back. They were the words that he always feared you would say to him when he climbed in through your window at night or when he showed up at your apartment when you were still on Payback. And hearing you say those words felt worse than anything those Russian fucks did to him. Because Ben didn't know where he belonged if he wasn't with you, he didn't know what to do if you weren't in his life, you were the only thing that mattered.

How could I fuck this up this much?

Ben looks back at the clock on the wall in the kitchen which shows he'd been there for three hours waiting for you to come out of your room, but you hadn't. He knew it was because you fell asleep, he could hear your heart beat, your soft breath against the pillows, and the almost silent sounds you made when you slept. They were exactly the same as when he would fall asleep next to you and damn it he didn't realize how much he missed them until this exact moment.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How do I fucking fix this?

Ben stands from the couch and walks down the hallway for the millionth time to stand outside your door preparing to knock, but he didn't know what to say. He thought that he'd said enough, but judging by your reaction he hadn't.

The thought of saying anything else was difficult for him to swallow. It was hard enough to say what he had to you, but he was realizing he was going to have to delve even deeper to make you even look at him again or want to be around him.

Finally he goes to the front door of your apartment before he looks back down the hallway. He didn't want to leave, didn't want you to wake up and him not be there despite what you said about wanting him to leave. He wanted you to understand that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was never going to leave you ever again no matter how hard you tried to push him away. But he needed to leave now, not for long, just long enough for him to get what he needed.

He had seen the florist shop on the corner when Butcher drove up. As Ben walked down the street in the direction of the florist he remembered the conversation he had with Butcher after you slammed your door in his face. Convincing Butcher to let him remain in the apartment was difficult, but finally when Ben threatened to rip Hughie in half, Butcher relented stating that he would give Ben one night with you before he came back. That was the deal anyway, Ben had lied, because like hell he was going to leave now that he'd found you again.

Ben wasn't planning on leaving and even if you couldn't stand to look at him, Ben would not go. Even if it meant sleeping on that shitty couch every night.

He would never leave you again.

The smell of the flowers wafted out of the small shop when Ben opens the door, his eyes skating across the numerous bouquets, each one more extravagant than the last. Other women would swoon over them, but not you. His eyes fall first on roses, but he turns away. He knew that you didn’t like roses, although many believed them to be classic, Ben knew that you thought over the years that roses had become generic and overused. He of course had sent some to numerous women over the years, but he liked that you were different. He always liked that about you. He rolls his eyes when he remembered when Howard bought you some every week.

Because of course that asshole didn’t know what y/n liked. No one knows her as well as me.

The man behind the counter eyes him when he walks in. "Can I help you find something sir?"

"No." Ben says gruffy looking at the displays again, but then he sighs. "Do you have any lavender?"

"Lavender?"

"Yeah." Ben knew it was the only thing that you would accept, knew that it was your favorite because it reminded you of the house your family rented over the summers up North. Ben hated those summers. He'd break into your bedroom and sleep in your bed while thinking of you and reading the letters you sent him over and over again, the ones that you pressed fresh lavender into and the ones that made him realize just how much he needed you.

Those of course weren’t the only letters you ever sent him. When he went to boarding school he’d wait for you to send him a letter and one of your doodles or a small painting. He kept every one in a cigar box under his bed. It was why he was kicked out of boarding school number nine, a fight he had with another student began because the student had found the box and then proceeded to mock Ben endlessly by passing around the letters you sent him. Ben had never told you what the fight was about.

Ben stops as he realizes how he’s going to get you to listen to him.

“Here you are sir.” The florist reappears at the counter holding a large vase of freshly cut lavender.

“Do you have a phone I can borrow?” Ben asks.

“Sure.”

The object the man hands him is not a phone, well not a phone that Ben’s ever seen before.

“I said a phone-“

“That is a phone?” The man looks confused.

“How do I fucking call someone with this?” Ben sighs shaking the black rectangle in his hand and looking for the buttons.

The man takes the object and swipes his fingers across it before handing it back to him so Ben can see the numbers to dial. “Just push what you want and hit the green button.” The man says, looking at Ben like he's crazy.

“Oh. Thanks.” He mutters, before dialing the number and holding the phone up to his ear.

Legend answers on the first ring.

“Hey it’s me. Do you still have all my old shit from my apartment?”

“Somewhere.”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

******************************************

N/A: Why not end on a cliffhanger? This chapter is a bit longer, because this week is CRAZY for me and I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next chapter. But I'm not giving up on these two. They deserve the world.

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think. If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna @abramswife @xxannyxx @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys #jensen ackles #soldier boy fic #billy butcher #the boys amazon #hughie campbell #the boys fanfic #jackles #the boys season 3 #the boys series #the boys tv #the boys s3

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altschmerzes · 8 months

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thinking about some of my general wips and being like, ah damn i missed my window where i’d worked up the nerve to post some incredibly violent/dark shit and now i need to go through the whole process of telling myself i’m allowed to do that and nobody’s gonna be like, horrifically weirded out if i do-

#gav gab #writing liveblog #colloquially known as 'the torture fic' lmao the first chapter is basically Just Violence #and the second and third chapters are like #reckoning with trauma and recovery and damage etc #contemplated making an ao3 alt just to post that fic #and others that are like #more extreme than my usual fare #but got talked out of that by some friends who made some great points #SURE WISH I REMEMBER WHAT THOSE POINTS WERE NOW

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iloveyoumorethansoup · 1 year

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Soo thankful my ra is great this year and has both common sense and critical thinking. Genuinely one of my favorite people in college

#i have to unfortunately deal with housing things all I want is to be terminally online again but nooo I got stuff to deal with #my roommate recorded our conversation the other night without my permission which is unfortunately legal in this state #however quite frankly it’s probably better for me that she did bc i handled her meltdown rather well #and god knows she loves to lie. she’s been asked by 2 RAs now for the recording she took #and so far hasn’t given it. so either she lied (shocker) and didn’t actually record it or she knows it makes her look really bad #also fun fact! she had a friend on the phone and I think they were the one recording it. if they were that isn’t legal which I mean #housing wants to kick her out so bad that’d be the final straw #but she decided to demand a roommate agreement change which I’ll happily oblige to so I get to do that at some point #honestly?? girl is digging herself in a hole. p sure her goal was to scare me into just not making sound so we wouldn’t need a meeting?#but like. we gotta meet with the housing coordinator which is great bc they know who she is and how she is #i really don’t think she expected me to go out of my way to get a meeting set up. also?? she gets mad when I’m up til like 2 or later #last night she was up til 7am. I guess only she’s allowed to be a hypocrite lol #objectively all the drama she tries to start should either really anger me or worry me or something at least #nah. this is pretty funny. her entitledness and drama is digging her so far into a hole she’s transferring next semester #and the best part is everyone in housing knows her. can’t stand her shit. i was talking to a friend in class and she tells her friend #her friends like oh who is she? i tell her. she goes oh that explains it. and I’m like oh u know her? and she goes. I’m an ra. i know her #like girl!! if you’re so universally hated why do u keep this up???#like girl will call the ra on call for any minor inconvenience at all #she hasn’t since finding out calls r logged tho lol which is like oh man! u r self aware!#i have no tolerance for bs and man bestie is made of it #cannot wait for this meeting genuinely excited. bc she’s gonna make up stuff that I can easily defend myself. and then she’s gonna #essentially make demands that I can’t make noise after a certain time. and say if anyone agrees it’s discrimination over sensory issues #she’s already said that fun fact. i have sensory issues too. they have equal importance in this agreement #but like. it has to be a fair agreement. and I’m not required to sign another contract #so really she’s going into this meeting to be a problem and she’s gonna crash and burn. it’ll be a firework show #soup talks #watching bestie experience karma in real time

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writingouthere · 3 months

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exboyfriend!Sukuna x f!reader.

cw: smut, outdoor sex, angst, controlling behavior.

Your date was a disappointment.

The guy wasn't an asshole or anything, but at some point he'd talked about cryptocurrency for ten minutes straight without you saying a word and there was no coming back from that.

"I had a great time," he tells you as you stand on the subway platform after finally escaping the restaurant. You nod noncommittally and wonder if this is the part where he asks for your number. You're calculating the risk/reward of giving him a fake number and having him potentially call it while you're still right in front of him when you hear a familiar laugh from behind you.

"I doubt it," the voice says and you close your eyes. Maybe if you wish hard enough you can develop teleportation and not have to deal with this.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" your date asks, his voice only wavering a little as he looks at your ex-boyfriend. Honestly, you admire him. The sight of the tall, heavily tattooed (alleged) criminal was usually enough to make people cross the street to avoid him but not this accountant? Investment baker? Dentist? Fuck, he'd talked about his job for thirty minutes and you had not been listening. You would have guilty if you weren't actively judging him for not even noticing your lack of engagement.

Whatever, he probably wasn't brave, he was probably just an idiot.

Sukuna seemed to agree as he laughed again and put his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm her boyfriend."

Your date looked at him, looked at you, and seemed to be weighing if this was worth one mediocre date. He seemed frozen for a second until Sukuna took a step forward and the guy's previously dormant survival instincts seemed to awaken and he booked it down the train platform.

Once he was out of sight, you took Sukuna's hand and dropped it off your shoulder like a fallen leaf that had got stuck on your jacket.

"Are you following me, now?" You wouldn't have put it past him. You turn to face your ex who looks not only unrepentant for his little routine but vindicated. Or maybe he just looks vindictive, you can never tell.

"Are you going on dates with any loser that asks?" He tosses back and you roll your eyes.

"You didn't even meet him."

"So, he wasn't a loser? And you weren't deciding if it was worth giving him a fake number and having him call you right then?"

You hated that he knew you so well.

"He seemed the type to call," you concede and Sukuna scoffs.

"Absolutely, that fucker is. Women have been giving that dumb fuck fake numbers since he was begging for them with his little Nokia flip phone."

"Is Nokia still a thing?" you ask and Sukuna glares at you.

"Do I look like Google to you? Hey, don't try to district me, princess. We were talking about how you seem to have gotten it into your mind that you can cheat on me with any guy with a pulse."

"I'm not cheating on, we're not together," you tell him as your train pulls up. You don't bother protesting as he follows you on it, even though you know the old apartment you used to share is in the other direction from your new place.

"The fuck we're not," he seethes. The other riders look at you and you see one or two guys deciding if it's worth trying to get involved but you're more concerned about the teenage girl who looks ready to fight this asshole for you. God, you loved women.

"You're making a scene," you tell him and he looks ready to make the scene Oscar worthy before you give him the look that used to make him not call your friends' babies ugly when you went to birthday parties.

"Where can we talk then?"

"I'm not taking you to my place," you say and he sucks his teeth.

"Then let's go home."

"You mean to your home."

Sukuna looks furious but you're not in the mood. You had just spent the past two hours on a terrible date, which made you think about how dating was just going to be like this until you found a new boyfriend or gave up, which then made you think about your break up and how up until a few months ago, you thought you would never go on a first date with anyone ever again.

You hated that Sukuna had put you here and you hated that you still loved him.

"I'm not leaving until we talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

You're so tired, Sukuna is so close and it's been so long since you got to smell him or feel his warmth. Your apartment was still barely furnished but everything in it was new and it still didn't feel like home. The one sweatshirt of his you'd let yourself take had stopped carrying his scent weeks ago, and just being close to him now, it made something in you relax. Like you were finally home.

"There fucking is," he hisses and now he's so close you can make out the scar on his jaw and the fullness of his lips. You used to tease him that you'd never met a man whose lips were as soft as his. He may have looked like tough shit, but you would never catch him out of the house without lotion and chapstick.

You wondered if he was still using the cherry chapstick you had bought him at the grocery store the week before you'd broken up.

"Are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me a baby?"

"Princess-"

"Then there's nothing to talk about," you say and you thank whoever's watching that the train is pulling up to your stop. You get off and Sukuna is right on your heels.

"You don't even want those things right now, why the fuck does it even matter?"

"I want them eventually and if you're not willing to give them to me, then I just don't think I need to keep wasting my time."

You're roughly dragged into a nearby alley and tossed against a brick wall. Sukuna's hand cups the back of your head, taking the force of the slam and you hate that he watches out for you even when he's being a controlling jackass.

"Being with me is wasting your time? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Not your girlfriend," you snap back. "Let go, I want to go home."

"Fuck you," he tells you and you're about ready to fight him, grown scary man or not when he leans down and his lips are on yours.

They taste like cherry chapstick.

His hand on the back of your head tightens, his thumb pressing against your neck and making you shiver. His other hand is pressed tight to your jaw and when you gasp against his mouth, he presses down as if he can hold you open and consume you so you can't leave him again.

His muscled thigh is in between yours and you can feel the rough texture of his jeans, the same pair he wore to work, the same pair you'd put through the washing machine a thousand times, rub against where your legs are only covered in tights. The shorter than usual skirt meant to entice your date, and instead it was being taken advantage of by your ex-boyfriend.

Sukuna let go of your face so he could put his hand underneath the fabric of your skirt.

"New outfit?" He teases as his hand slides to the top of your tights.

"Got it for my date," you snap and he growls at you before he rips the seams of your tights. Before you can complain, he's dragging them down your thighs and diving into your panties so he can get to your cunt. The underwear is new too and a pained noise leaves you at the sensation of them snapping against your inner thigh, both at the pain and the thought of how much they cost.

"I still have those blue ones you like at home, the ones you wore for my birthday last year," he tells you as he slides his finger down the seam of your cunt. You're wet and it annoys you because orgasming has been a bitch to achieve since you had to start giving them to yourself again.

"You can keep them," you tell him and he bites your lower lip between his teeth, they'd always felt too sharp for a man and you know you're a twitch or a less than playful nibble away from a busted lip.

"They're not really up for wearing anymore anyway."

You want to ask him what he means by that as he kisses down your neck and thrusts one finger into you, the slide almost unholy.

"So fucking wet, your cunt was always better at talking than you were."

The sensation of being filled even though it's not enough it's not enough begins to itch at your need to be satisfied as your mind fills in the gaps of his previous words.

You can imagine Sukuna in the bed you used to share, the dark blue sheets and the comforter covered in a black pattern that had reminded you of the marks that covered his body. One hand holding your favorite pair of panties and the other his big cock, that sometimes you missed even more than him.

Did he use the panties to jerk off with, the fabric just an expensive tissue for his cum? Did he hold them to his nose and pretend he could still smell your pussy on them in the bed that used to smell like both of you? You had tried watching porn and reading smut, the stuff you had relied on before you were together, and nothing compared to what it felt like to come from his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

The only times you had touched yourself when you were together were when Sukuna had wanted to watch, his commentary pushing you to the edge. He had always known what to say.

Good girl, now try two fingers for me. Not enough? Do you need my cock? Fucking slutty princess, eh?

No matter how demeaning his words were, you had never felt true shame because his desire for you was always apparent. Sukuna never held back praise where he felt it was deserved, and he had always been quick to let you know that what you were doing was pleasing him.

"Pay attention to me, princess. I'd hate to think I was boring you." The words are laced with cruelty and the added pressure of a second figure is harsh, too soon, and still not enough.

The hand in your hair tightens, but the grip still careful not to mess it up beyond repair. Something you'd been adamant about in the beginning days of your relationship. The gentleness of it, of him, makes you cry out.

Since Sukuna was the only one who still seemed cognizant of how you were in an alley, only a right turn from being on a public sidewalk, he was quick to catch your moan in his mouth. Nearly purring in reply, a ridiculous thing for a ridiculous man to do.

"Fuck, that's it. No one else can make you feel like this, this cunt is fucking mine."

"Yes," you hiss out in agreement. Pleased with your concession, Sukuna's thumb swipes over your clit as he continues his punishing rhythm with his fingers. You can hear how wet you are as it echoes off the brick around you. Even though it's cold outside, you feel almost too hot between the warmth of his body shielding yours from the world around you and the heat that's continuing to build up in your core.

"So close, I know you are. Beg me, princess and I might let you come," he whispers in your ear and you would feel embarrassed of the whine you let out if you weren't so close.

"Please, Sukuna. Please, let me come!"

"I don't know. Not sure if I should reward you since you've apparently being going around giving this pussy to fucking anyone."

You shake your head. "No, I haven't slept with anyone since we broke up."

Sukuna kisses you so hard, you're grateful for the hand behind your head because you know his knuckles must be bruised from the force he kisses you with. Sukuna pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours and you hate that you find that hot. That this whole thing is hot.

For a second, the softness in his eyes takes your breath away and you almost forget about where you are and what you're doing and why it's the worst idea you've ever had. He's just Sukuna, the love of your life and you miss him so much.

You think he might say something crazy like he loves you or even propose but then the softness is gone and he just grins at you.

"Alright, come then, you've earned it."

With permission granted, Sukuna focuses his attention on your clit in just that way you like in the way that only someone who's done this hundreds of times could do. He's definitely leaving hickies around your collarbone and neck, but for now they feel good and when you come, you bite your lip knowing it will be bruised. A reminder of how you're an idiot when you look at it in the mirror tomorrow.

Still soft with your orgasm, you reach down to return the favor but Sukuna grabs your hand.

"I'm not walking around with cum in my jeans," he tells you, kissing your palm. Typical of him, to end something crass with something sweet. You sigh as he puts you back down on the ground. You pull up what remains of your tights, the fabric uncomfortable on your quickly drying thighs. Your ripped panties lie on the ground and Sukuna looks at them forlornly before shaking his head, dirty alleyway panties apparently being too much even for him.

Sukuna grabs the bag you'd dropped when he'd kissed you and gestures for you to exit the alley. A few passersby give you strange looks but you figure if you were going to be arrested for public indecency, it would have happened already.

"I guess we're going to mine," you say. "I live like another two blocks this way."

"I know," Sukuna says already heading that way.

You blow a piece of hair out of your eye. "Of course you do."

When Sukuna actually types in the passcode to your building you almost lose it, but you're tired and honestly you had kind of expected to just come home to him already in your apartment at some point. Sukuna had never been great at respecting boundaries. Or the law.

You unlock the door to your apartment, it takes everything in you not to ask if he already has a key. You don't want to know. He follows you in and the two of you sit at the dingy two person table you have set up by one of the only windows.

"Cozy."

"Fuck you." He smirks in that way that has always made you want to punch him and you're reminded that you're currently wearing shredded tights.

"Sukuna, you wanted to talk. So talk."

The smirk leaves his face and he looks at his nails, pressing his thumb against the one on his pointer finger and then looking through the 'o' formed there. "You left."

"I did."

He looks at you. "Why?"

"You know why," you say, tired again.

"Sure, you want to get married at some point. You want a baby at some point. I don't see what that has to do with us, right now."

"Because right now leads to that some point. It doesn't just happen. There are things I want, that are important to me. If they're not important to you, then I need to find someone who has the same priorities as me."

"Because I'm not your priority," he says and this is the rehash of an argument you'd had a thousand times. Sukuna was selfish and possessiveness and while that had always granted you a certain security, it had also been a chain you'd constantly worn around your ankle. You weren't going to defend your time at work or with friends to your boyfriend. That belonged to a different time, to different women and it had been a nonnegotiable early in your relationship that he figure that shit out with himself.

"Sukuna, I love you but I'm not going to give up what I want for my future because you don't want it. You don't have to want it, in fact I appreciate that you've been honest about it-"

"So appreciative, you left me," the words are almost snarled and you sigh.

"That's not fair. You can't be mad I want something else, the same way I'm not mad that you want something else. It's not a character flaw to not want to get married, or to not what kids. It just means you have a person out there for you who shares that view. Because it's not me."

"Why can't it be enough to just have a life with the two of us?"

"It's not about whether or it's enough, it's about me wanting something else."

There's a pause. Sukuna claws at the dents already in your battered table and deepens the grooves as you try not to flinch at the sound of his nails bearing down on wood.

Finally, he responds. "You know, I spent my childhood, my teens and a lot of adulthood raising Yuuji because our piece of shit parents couldn't be bothered and let me tell you. It's fucking hard. It is constant and they need so much for you. I didn't do anything but work and watch him for almost two decades and I don't want to do that again. I want my own life."

"I understand," you tell him. "That was a lot, even if you did a great thing by taking him in."

"It wasn't because I was nice. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a murderer. And you want me to fucking watch Bluey with some brat."

"You may not be nice but you do right by the people you care about. I also don't think you've murdered a baby, it would probably be okay."

"That's more incidental than a conscience choice," he says and you know he has to hear how ridiculous he sounds.

"Alright. I respect your decision but for what it's worth, we're not kids anymore and you wouldn't be doing this alone. I think Yuuji turned out pretty great because he had you, and I think any kid of our would be lucky to have you as a dad."

"You would really do all that with me," he says and his voice is as close to wonderous as you've ever heard it. "You really are a lost cause."

You try not to react, remind yourself that this is always how Sukuna responds to affection. He'd laughed at you the first time you'd told him you loved him. You'd punched him and broken your hand on his chin. He'd told you he loved you in the ER as the attendant resetting your hand looked on in horror.

"I think that's enough for today. Thanks for stopping by and for the orgasm, appreciate it," you say, rising from the chair. You walk the short trip to your door and open it. "Hope you have a safe trip home."

Sukuna stays seated. "That's it?"

"Yeah, Sukuna, that's it."

"And if I said I could do this, I could give you those things."

You think about it and look him over. How his hands twitch as if only his ego is preventing them from clenching. The clear trauma that was informing his previous stance.

"I'd say take some time and maybe talk to someone. I don't want to do this with someone who can just bring themselves to bear it. I want them to be as excited as me."

"That's asking for a lot from a guy."

"But someone will do it." Sukuna looks angry again and when he steps in your space, you push him gently away with your hand. He goes to hold it and even the familiar scrape of his calluses against your skin can't make you waver.

"Bye, Sukuna."

Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to give in you know but you won't.

He leaves without another word.

When the door to the stairwell slams shut, you finally let yourself cry.

----------

It's been a month since you've seen Sukuna and you're on another date.

The guy is unoffensive. He gave you a hug when you met up and he'd made a joke about the plethora of other couples at the restaurant. You two started playing a game where you tried to guess how many dates each couple had been on?

"Three, she's finally figured out she can't put up with how he chews no matter how nicely coiffed his hair is," your date says as you take another sip of your drink.

"That's a second date, his chewing is a commit or quit type of deal and she looks ready to go. Bet they didn't eat together on their first date."

"Is he telling the plot to Dune, he has not stopped talking since we sat down," he says and you giggle despite yourself.

You've just started on the couple both looking determinedly at their phones by the window when your phone rings.

"Sorry, I need to take this," you say and he smiles.

"No worries, I'll let you know how many times she misses her mouth while looking at her phone."

You wave as you go to stand outside. You take a deep breath and then answer.

"Hey."

"Hey, princess. Bad time?"

"No, just, what do you want?"

"Well, I'm planning this first date with this girl and I'm having trouble figuring out how to explain something."

You want to throw up, what kind of test is this?

"What do you want to say?"

"Well, I've heard that it's important to be straightforward with your intentions, so you don't waste anyone's time."

"And what are your intentions?" You manage to spit out and he laughs, his smugness almost seeping out the phone.

"Well not anytime soon, but eventually I think I'd like a little brat. You know, prove to Yuuji that he wasn't a fluke."

You heart is pounding and you hate him. You love him.

"Uh huh."

"And I guess it would probably be easier to do that if we just got married. You know, taxes, healthcare, I still don't have healthcare but my wife will and I've heard you can add people to that."

"This proposal is the fucking worst one I've ever heard," you say, trying to ignore the fact you are now crying in front of a restaurant. People walk by giving you pitying looks, probably think you got stood up.

"It's not a proposal, it's a framing of intent."

"Why do you talk like such an old man, we are almost the same age?"

"Why do you talk like such a brat?"

"You know-"

"Probably," he says and you laugh despite yourself.

"So when is this date?"

"Tonight," he says. "You can wear that dress you're wearing, it looks perfect on you."

"Are you fucking here, you creep?"

"That's no way to talk to your future husband and no. That place is a shithole, I'm at our usual."

"Good, I've missed it. No one makes my drink the way I like it," you tell him and he hums.

"Well, it will be waiting for you when you get here. So get here soon."

"Alright, I'll see you soon."

Sukuna hangs up and you stand there. There's a perfectly nice guy inside. One who makes you laugh and who maybe one day you could grow to love.

But there's another guy across town who is sitting at your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite drink. His lips taste like the organic chapstick, he claims to be too tacky to be worth wearing but keeps it in his pocket anyway. He built all your furniture and let you paint your bathroom green even though you live in a rental. He's held your hair back when you were sick and cleaned it up even as he bitched at you for the mess and done a rather cruel impression of you retching.

There's another guy that you love.

So you go back into the restaurant to tell your perfectly nice date that something has come up.

Maybe you're a fool, but what else could you do?

Maybe this will be a series, idk. Being an adult is weird. This is def ooc but you know, let me work through things and call them fiction. That's what this account is for.

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk #sukuna

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malfoyscoffee · 5 months

Text

call me theo ᯓᡣ𐭩 theodore nott

౨ৎ theodore nott x slytherin!fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 fluff, angst | exes to lovers

➶ mentions of time skip and use of y/n

“Friends?”

“Friends.”

That marked the end of your two-year relationship with Theodore. As he said his final word, you turned away, walking down the winding steps of the Astronomy Tower, holding back the emotions until you returned to your dormitory.

The night blurred into a haze of tears, finding comfort in Pansy’s shoulder as both of you nestled on the dorm floor. Hours passed in a cocoon of sadness before Blaise, Mattheo, Lorenzo, and even Draco appeared with snacks and muggle movies, trying to lift your spirits.

Wrapped up in your distress, you didn't think to ask how they found out about your breakup. Unbeknownst to you, amidst his own pain, Theodore asked his friends to comfort you instead of him.

Three weeks had gone by since the breakup. As promised, you and Theodore went back to being friends, just like before, merely two friends within the same tight-knit circle. But beneath the surface of friendliness, your friends noticed the underlying tension between you and Theodore, silently wishing for a reunion.

It was a random morning in the Great Hall when you announced to your friends that you would be occupied before dinner to take on the extra credit assignment for Herbology. Your friends looked at you strangely, the assignment was unnecessary for someone with such high marks, but inside you wanted a distraction from everything.

Back in the common room, the attention shifted to Theodore, the elephant in the room finally about to be addressed.

“So, what led to the breakup?” Blaise relaxed in his chair while Theodore sighed, looking at the ceiling.

“She didn’t say why, but she mentioned that you initiated the breakup,” Draco said casually, trying to hide his interest for the situation.

“I told her she deserved better.”

Silence.

Suddenly, Lorenzo burst into laughter.

“Salazar, Enzo,” Pansy stood, disregarding Lorenzo's reaction. “So, let me get this straight,” she pointed her finger at Theodore, “You're saying the reason the group has been down is because you decided she deserved someone better?”

Mattheo set aside his cigarette, “Didn’t expect you to be so naive, mate.”

Blaise nodded, “Thinking that's an explanation. (Y/n) adores you, where will you find a girl better than her?”

Theodore’s face paled, “She’ll find someone better and eventually leave me. I couldn’t handle that.”

Draco stayed composed, “So you ended it first. Well done, Theo.”

Theodore buried his face in his hands, letting out an exasperated groan. “You all know she has a promising future after graduation. Why should she stay with me and be held back?”

“Did you talk to her about this, or did your insecurities make the call?” Lorenzo’s words made Theodore freeze, lost in thought.

Pansy packed up, checking the time. “Dinner’s soon. Let’s go.”

The boys followed Pansy, leaving Theodore alone, contemplating if his decision was right for your relationship.

"I got the job!"

Strolling around Hogsmeade with Blaise and Pansy, you stumbled upon a new place—a wizarding coffee shop. Your liking for muggle coffeehouses sparked your curiosity, pushing you to ask about potential employment.

Excitement bubbled as you shared the news with your friends in the Great Hall.

“We’ve got a place to visit now.” Lorenzo grinned, aware it might bring some joy after a while.

Pansy nudged Draco, "Let’s study there. OWLS are coming up and some muggle coffee might help."

Draco glanced at Theodore, who sat in silence, unsure of what to say. “That sounds like a plan. I could use some muggle coffee.”

They all knew Draco was convincing Theodore to join.

"When do you start?" Mattheo asked between sips of hot chocolate.

You remembered your upcoming schedule, “Next week, Wednesdays and Saturdays? Once I’m trained, next Saturday, I’ll treat you all to some amazing muggle coffee."

The group agreed, planning to meet at your workplace next Saturday.

“Five cups of regular iced coffee, please.” You operated the muggle machine, engrossed in fulfilling the order.

“Oh, hey, Theodore. Are the others here?” You looked around, causing Theodore’s shoulders to slump slightly.

“They're at the big corner table. Enzo insisted the natural sunlight would help with studying…”

A soft chuckle escaped, “You can go back, I’ll bring the drinks over when ready.” Theodore nodded, returning to the café’s corner.

Blaise grabbed the first cup but stopped when Pansy teased him. “Don’t hog! Share!”

“How does it taste?” you asked, turning to your friends.

“(Y/n), muggle coffee is amazing.” Mattheo praised, soon followed by Blaise signaling he finished his drink.

“I should tell my father about this place,” Draco chimed in, and before you knew it, all the cups were empty.

“I should get back to work, see you at dinner.”

“What time do you finish?” Theodore's sudden interest surprised everyone.

“(Y/n)?”

"I'm done around six," You said while feeling a bit overwhelmed inside.

Theodore nodded, indicating your return to work.

Numerous customers kept you busy. Though you didn’t need money, the experience was enriching.

While your friends left at five, Theodore stayed. He moved to a quiet spot facing the counter where you worked.

Ignoring his shift, you focused on the new customers who walked in.

“(Y/n), it's six, you can leave,” your boss said, offering a pastry.

“Thanks,” grabbing your coat, you started to leave the kitchen.

“Are you done?” Theodore was poised by the counter, waiting for your response.

“Theodore, did you wait?”

Signaling to walk together, he said, “I had a few assignments that I wanted to finish early so I stayed longer.” His nervous fidgeting gave away his lie, his habit you remembered from your past relationship.

You hummed, touched by his waiting.

“I might visit often. I didn't mention earlier, but the coffee’s great.”

Walking back to Hogwarts, feelings for Theodore surfaced since the breakup.

How could you move on when he acted this way?

For two months, Theodore kept his promise, visiting the café every Wednesday and Saturday, bringing schoolwork, and leaving with you.

You felt the emotions returning but you were scared to get hurt. After all, he initiated the breakup, right?

Your friends noticed Theodore’s absence on your workdays, understanding where Theodore was without verbal explanation.

“One large iced coffee, please.” You prepared a cup, “And your name?”

“Theo.”

“Oh,” You looked up at Theodore. “One large iced coffee for Theodore.” You repeated his order and placed the cup down.

“Why don’t you call me Theo anymore?” His disappointment was evident.

Meeting his gaze, you explained, “Because we’re just friends.”

Theodore observed the cup, then you.

“You know what, I think I forgot something at my dorm. I’m going to go.” His tone was sharper than he meant, leaving the café abruptly.

“Now you're the clueless one. Salazar, why do I have two of them?” Lorenzo dramatized, earning an eye roll from you.

Theodore disappeared after the café meeting. Unaware of his whereabouts, your friends gathered in the common room, waiting for his return.

“I mean, (Y/n), Enzo's right,” Pansy said, sipping the muggle coffee you brewed for the group.

“He ended things months ago. I don’t see why you're all on his side.” Frowning, you didn’t grasp their empathy toward Theodore.

“(Y/n), listen,” Blaise interrupted, “Regardless of who initiated the breakup, Theodore has come to your café twice a week for months, just to be spend time with you.”

Draco echoed Blaise’s sentiments. “OWLS were done a month ago, yet he still visits. Give Theo credit for trying.”

You sighed, “I care for him, but I don’t want to be hurt again. He should just tell me. His actions are misleading if he doesn’t want to reconcile.”

Lost in thought, the warmth of the common room enveloped you, the crackling fire providing a soothing ambiance.

As evening approached, your thoughts circled Theodore’s sudden exit from the café, leaving you unsettled, your mind in disarray.

Unnoticed, the common room door creaked open. Theodore entered, visibly anxious. His eyes met yours, a blend of hesitation and resolve painting his expression.

The room fell silent as Theodore approached you, a mix of emotions playing across his face. Without a word, you got up and led him out of the common room.

The two of you reached the Blake Lake, facing each other, as tension filled the air. Theodore struggled with his thoughts, torn between holding back and speaking up.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” he started, a hint of regret in his tone. “I didn’t mean to leave abruptly. I've been struggling, (Y/n).”

“Struggling? With what, Theodore?”

Gathering his thoughts, he spoke earnestly. “With everything between us. The breakup, it wasn't about not caring about you. I was scared.”

“Scared?” Your voice softened, understanding blooming within.

Theodore nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I was scared that you would realize I was holding you back and leave me. So I thought if I let you go, you would be better off.”

Your heart ached, his honesty striking a chord with your own doubts. “But, Theodore, you never gave me a chance to choose. You made that decision for me.”

“I know, and I regret it every day.” Remorse filled his words, his vulnerability evident. “I visited the café because I wanted to be near you. But I understand if it’s been confusing for you.”

Silence hung, emotions swirling like a storm.

“I never stopped loving you,” you whispered, emotions stirring within.

He met your gaze, “I don't want to lose you again, (Y/n). I want us to start over, I'll do everything to make things right.”

“Let's take it slow, Theodore. Start over and let's see where it takes us.”

A soft smile appeared on his face, relief in his eyes. “I promise, I'll do everything.”

"I've missed this," Theodore confessed softly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions.

You gently squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Me too. I think we both needed this time to figure things out."

Theodore stopped walking, turning to face you with resolve. "I want us to try again, to be together, properly this time.”

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through you at his words. You looked into his eyes, seeing a depth of sincerity that reassured you more than any words could. "I want that too, Theodore. Let's give us another chance."

With that shared agreement, a sense of relief and joy washed over both of you. Walking hand in hand, Theodore smiled for the first time in months.

“Now, will you call me Theo?”

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priniya · 7 months

Note

Can you please write a comfort fic about jealous theo x reader? Maybe he gets jealous and then over thinks the situation so the reader comforts him?

If not that’s totally fine no stress! Thank you!

🧸 BEAUTIFUL BOY

synopsis. thedore nott gets jealous over his girlfriend’s friendship with mattheo.

notes. theodore nott x girlfriend!reader. established relationship, jealous theodore.

theo hated jealousy.

as a child, he used to be very possessive of his things, which always resulted in silly arguments with his cousins, when he threw a tantrum over a tantrum if someone touched some of his toys. as he grow up, he began to realize how much he saw his father in himself, so nott promised himself to never show that side of him again.

and he didn’t. theodore would always bottle up his feelings and then lash it all out at someone, who accidentally got into his path, and made one mistake, receiving a rough punch in the face afterwards.

that was until he met you — the meaning of his life, the sunshine to his grumpy, the member to make his family be found or anything that would make your stomach erupts in butterflies if he said that out loud. you gave him a new point of view, the one that let him feel… lightly, feel relieved about his problems. it was refreshing, really.

he should’ve known from the beginning that you, and your best friend come in a package. and he should’ve known, because the three of you were great friends even before you two started dating.

at first, it was nothing. a mere thought that occurred to him on a sleepless night, vanishing right after his brain was clouded with exhaustion, eyes falling shut. then, the strange feeling of bottled up jealousy got him.

your boyfriend started noticing all those small things that had never really mattered to him before. the way matt’s eyes always lit up when you entered the room, how he laughed at your jokes, how his hands somehow always found its way to wrap around you, or just touch you.

jesus. it made his blood boil, every single time. the outcome would easily disappoint you if you knew right away. when theo hated his possessive side, you despised when he fought random people at parties — even though it was awfully attractive to see him all angry, you hated patching him up, being a witness of every small wince, a gasp, or a hiss as you pressed a gauze to his face. you always thought of consequences as well, what if someone told the teachers or what if it ended up as a case in ministry of magic?

you wouldn’t even know that your boyfriend was struggling with endless thoughts of you, leaving him for mattheo. thank god that you were blessed with lorenzo, who apparently couldn’t keep his mouth shut (“i wouldn’t spill it, nott! you were just sulking, i had to tell her!”).

at the beginning, you just thought it was a silly prank the boys tried to pull on you – to see if you reacted in anyway, or to just mess with your head a little. the perspective changed as soon as you noticed how stiff theo would get, whenever riddle joined you. it was all confirmed, when he began avoiding you like plague.

“teddy.” you sighed, barging into his dorm (ironically, shared with mattheo) without knocking. “we have to talk.” the way you phrased it was enough to make him straighten up in his bed.

in his eyes, you were about to break up with him and reason it that you just didn’t love him anymore, and fell in love with your best friend. he could hear his heart shattering into pieces, see the tears that would dig holes in his cheeks as soon as you leave the room.

“something happened, baby?” he asked, trying his hardest to brush off the pain, accumulating in the back of his head. “did i upset you in any way?”

theodore watched you get closer to him, resting your arms against the wooden frame. “well, was there a reason to get upset?” your eyebrows were lifted as you made eye contact with him. “hm?”

a long sighed left his lips. he stood up from the bed, leaving his sheets all messy. he took a step forward, close enough to wrap his arms around your body, trying to get you as close as possible. “y/n…” he hummed, bringing his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to your shoulder.

it always worked if he tried to calm you down. not this time though.

“can you tell me what’s going on with you?” you asked. taking a few steps back, because you were mad at him and not a single kiss could change your mind (it could, you were just delusional). “did i do something to upset you?” you knew the answer, whatsoever you wanted to hear it from him.

“no– no, baby. why are you saying that?” theo frowned.

“so, you’ve been avoiding me all week long just for the funsies?”

shit, he thought. so you noticed it all. noticed how distant he grew. his eyes closed for a second and you really believed he would brush you off again, just like he did all this week. “it’s stupid.” he turned his head towards you. “i was jealous.”

your silence has pulled on his tongue. “of how mattheo acts around you, and uh. i got scared that if i tell you about it, you’re either gonna laugh at me or agree with my worries and leave me for matt.”

“teddy.” the way you were still using his nickname eased his worries a bit. “i love you, okay? only you, always you.” you confessed, dropping the L bomb for the first time in your relationship, finally feeling ready to. it made his heart flutter, soo much it almost pained him.

“you do?” you chuckled at his words, giving up the tough girlfriend act, your palms cupping his cheeks, bringing him a little closer. “y/n, i am so sorry, i should’ve talked to you.” his arms wrapped around your waist, forehead falling onto your shoulder.

“you should have.” the words rolled on your tongue in a soft manner as you placed a few kisses on his temple, nails gently scratching his nape. “i see where you’re coming from, but you gotta talk to me about things like that.”

it took theo five seconds to pick you up and throw you on his bed, cuddling up to you as you whispered sweet nothings into his ear, reassuring him of your feelings.

“but if you could, you’d choose me over anyone?” theo lifted his eyebrows at you, and you couldn’t hold a giggle back.

“well, over anyone?” you teased, grinning. “i could never not choose pansy.”

#theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #theo nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott rec #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott rec #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott x you

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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months

Text

bruised knees

words: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of blowjobs, losing virginity, virgin!reader (but fic is not smut), jealous! and overprotective!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, fluffy

rafe has been beyond overprotective of you his whole life. ever since you met in first grade and you let him borrow your brand new crayon box, only for a bully to come up and tug on your pigtails, causing rafe to pause his coloring to shove him away and tell him not to touch you ever again.

you smiled at rafe, the same smile you look at him with now, and he knew he would take care of you no matter what. you hugged him tightly and from that day on always shared your crayons, and everything else you had, with your new best friend.

“ready?” rafe slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling you towards the boat.

“yes!” you squeal, trying to navigate holding your tote bag and backpack at once, when suddenly both are out of your hands as rafe takes them and carries them down the pier.

“rafe, i can carry my own stuff.” you roll your eyes. it's a losing battle, your best friend will always lessen your load, hating seeing you do any sort of physical labor, feeling like that's his job.

“yeah, whatever.” rafe just ignores your argument, it's one he's heard so many times before, yet you make no attempt to take the bags back. “who all did you invite again?” rafe asks as you enter onto the boat, quickly beginning preparations for the day at sea, having gone through the motions so many times, knowing the boat like the back of your hand even though it's the cameron familys.

“uhh, topper, tina, kelce, steph, tiffy and hayden.” you go through the list of names in your head of friends that will be joining you and rafe on the yacht.

“how is tiffy since the break up?” rafe asks, knowing you like to talk while you work, pulling various lines while you straighten up the boat to make it more presentable, going through the motions together, always together.

rafes question launches you into a gossip session with rafe, spilling all the secrets your friends told you at your last hang out, but they know you don't keep anything from rafe, so it's no surprise when he knows as well, not that any of the girls would complain, rafe often takes over the role of protector to your friends as well, caring about who you care about.

“there's hayden!” you call to rafe, pointing down the dock to the parking lot where haydens truck just pulled in, a few minutes earlier than you expected anyone to start arriving.

“great.” rafe mumbles under his breath, making sure you don't hear his upset tone. he liked hayden at first, sharing some common interests (mostly golf), but then hayden got far too touchy with you, his gaze heating when it turned to you in a way that infuriated rafe, and he made sure to show hayden when you weren't around how much it pissed him off.

rafe is probably to credit for you never having a boyfriend for an extended period of time, but he can't help it, you're so perfect and no guy can possibly deserve you, so he has to scare them off before you get too invested and give them all of your attention instead of him.

“hey, heyds.” you greet him with a hug after he makes his way down the pier, making rafe grunts as haydens hand rests a little too low on your back for his liking, making rafes mind reel at the possibility of something going on between the two of you.

your other friends slowly begin to pile onto the boat, steph being the last one to get there as she is notorious for being late, which is why you told her to show up half an hour before everyone else, and somehow still managed to get there last.

“ready for takeoff?” you ask rafe, stepping away to join him at the wheel while your group of friends find places to sit while rafe navigates the boat towards the ocean.

“i am.” rafe nods, having disconnected the last line. no matter what is happening, you always sit next to rafe on the bench as he directs the boat, ready to be his second in command at any moment, even if its just fetching him a drink or checking the water depth.

“i can’t wait to swim.” you say with a sigh, having not gotten out into the water all week, which is rare with how much peace you find in the ocean.

“how about that one sandbar we took wheezie to?” rafe questions, wanting you to decide where he anchors the boat.

“ooh, yes.” you nod.

“she complained to me last night that you weren’t over.” rafe smiles at you when you let out a laugh.

“i don’t spend one friday night and she complains! ugh, i love that girl.” you grin thinking about wheezie, treating her like she’s your own little sister, having known her since she was born.

“you’ll stay tonight, right?” rafe asks, missing you sharing his bed like you do every weekend.

“mhm, i’m not driving home after being out on the boat all day, gonna be so exhausted.” you roll your eyes.

rafe smiles at you, wrapping one arm around his shoulder, leaving him to drive with one hand, but wanting you close to him, secretly hoping hayden would look through the windows from the lower deck and see you all cuddled up into his side.

neither of you have ever broached the topic of taking things beyond just friendship, despite rafe desperately wanting to take things further, he doesn’t want to mess up the one good thing he has in his life. you’re such a source of brightness that when you’re around him he forgets all about his fights with his dad, or issues with barry.

“here.” rafe nods to you, immediately going to drop the anchor, planning to stay in one spot all day.

you help him make sure its secure before moving to the main deck with everyone else. “alright, who is ready to swim?” you shout with glee.

“you know i am.” hayden smirks at you, pulling his shirt off over his head.

“mhm, that’s why i like you, not afraid to get wet.” you say, rafe carefully watching the interaction, unsure if you meant the innuendo or not.

you take your tshirt off as well, tossing it onto the pile that everyone is making on the sofa, revealing swimsuits underneath their clothes. rafe also undresses, but slowly and quietly.

you tug your yoga pants down next, having kicked your shoes off upon entering the boat. you turn towards rafe, always checking in with him, seeking him out amongst the crowd.

rafe smiles at you, his eyes dropping subtly down your body, quickly checking out your pale lilac swimsuit before he sees a different shade of purple, this time blossoming around your knees.

hayden seems to notice too, a smirk growing on his face when he sees the localized bruises.

“what the fuck did you do?” rafe grunts out before he can stop himself and use the calming methods you so carefully taught him.

“what?” hayden turns to look at rafe, but he’s already charging at him. rafe shoves hayden backwards, making him stumble but he manages to maintain his footing.

“rafe, chill!” you shout, grabbing at his arm.

“did he-did you fucking blow him?” rafe questions, pointing to your knees. “how did you get those bruises?” “jesus, rafe!” you take a step back, but don’t drop your grip on his arm, not sure if he would try to pull away. “you seriously ask me that in front of all our friends? for your information i was working out in the garden yesterday and bruised my knees kneeling on the pavers. but thanks for embarrassing me.”

you drop his arm when you feel tears welling in your eyes, quickly turning and sprinting into the interior of the boat.

you throw yourself onto the bed in one of the two bedrooms, hiding your face in the white pillow as you cry.

“y/n…” rafe says softly. you don’t jump at his voice, you expected him to follow you, but you don’t feel like talking to him.

“please, y/n.” rafe pleads, and you feel his weight dip the bed down as he climbs onto the mattress.

“stop it.” you whine when rafe pulls you into him, but you don’t struggle as he cuddles into you, pressing a kiss against your hair. you’ve cuddled rafe before, of course since you’ve been friends for so long, but never with this little clothing on, and you are very aware of how much of his bare skin is touching yours.

“i didn’t mean to embarrass you, y/n. i just… i just got so angry thinking about you possibly doing anything with hayden. i don’t like him. he’s not good enough for you.”

“why would you even think i would do that though? you know im a virgin.”

the words shock rafe, and you can physically feel him tense up. you pick up your head to look at him, brows furrowed together.

“i-i didn’t know that.” rafe just assumed you lost it to one of your short term boyfriends.

“no… no i would have told you, rafey. you’re my best friend, i… you told me when you lost yours.” you remind rafe of when he was 16 years old and had sex for the first time, calling you only an hour after to confide in you, partly hoping you would get jealous.

“i thought you knew that i wouldn’t want to hear about you sleeping with someone. i guess i just figured you kept it to yourself for my sake.” rafe doesn’t realize the implication of his words as they flow from between his lips.

“why would i?- wait… you like me?” you blink up at him.

rafe pauses. now is as good as time as any, especially with the growing threat of hayden and other guys who aren’t scared of rafe potentially taking you away from him. “yes. i love you. i think i’ve loved you since first grade.” “holy shit, you asshole!” you shout, and it’s not the reaction rafe was expecting as he tenses, waiting for you to run off, or get mad, but instead your shout turns into a laugh, “i can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner!” and then your lips are on his, finally feeling the perfect meld of your mouths together as rafe quickly snaps into action, his lips moving against yours as he cups your face.

“i love you too, in case it wasn’t obvious.” you whisper against his mouth before resuming the kiss.

“thank fuck, i was ready to murder hayden just because i thought you liked him.” rafe laughs, tugging on your waist to bring your bodies even closer together, leaving his large hand resting against your bare back.

“pshht.” you shake your head. “he’s not even half the man you are.”

“holy shit, i love you.” rafe repeats, taking you in for another kiss.

“my friends are never gonna believe that we finally got together.” you giggle. “i think they’ve all placed bets.”

“your friends?” rafe shakes his head. “baby, i think even our parents have.”

“i… i’m really happy we admitted are feelings.” you say shyly, a blush covering your cheeks as you look down, breaking eye contact. “everyone told me that you liked me too but i was too nervous to ruin what we had.”

“hey, it’s okay.” rafe says softly. “we have forever this way.”

you feel tears well up in your eyes again as you wrap your arms around rafe, pressing your head into his bare chest.

“gosh, i can’t wait to go tell everyone.” you admit with a giggle.

“yeah? wanna go get in the water too?” rafe asks, unsure if your friends waiting for your argument to be over to swim.

“hell yeah.” you slide off the bed, rafe taking a minute to check out your body, not hiding his heated gaze as you catch him.

“holy shit, you are checking me out!”

“duh, you’re my girl now.” rafe smirks, also getting off the bed, placing an arm around your shoulder. “gonna give you bruised knees for a different reason, baby.”

“wait, rafe-” you begin, suddenly not feeling like swimming anymore, but he pulls you out onto the deck, seeing all your friends sitting awkwardly on the sofas, waiting for whatever argument to be over with.

“don’t worry baby.” rafe drops his mouth to your ear, making sure your friends can’t hear. “we can talk about that virginity of yours later.” rafe doesn’t give you a second to respond, placing his fingers on your chin and tilting your head towards him to press a kiss to your lips to the chorus of all of your friends letting out woops and claps, along with shouts of “finally!”

“i told you!” tiffy shouts, holding her hand out towards stephanie. “you owe me 20 bucks!”

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

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mysicklove · 4 months

Text

Summary: Going to the fair with older brother Sukuna and toddler Yuuji was bound to cause some sort of trouble. But it was the tiger plushies' fault, not yours!

cw: fem! reader, curse words, sukuna almost hits someone with a ball, sukuna gives bad advice, sukuna threatens ppl, mentions of kidnapping, metaphors that dont make any sense

wc: 4.1k

a/n: i will post the prequel to all of this next! but I thought this was a silly way to show more dynamics between reader n sukuna! hope u guys like it <3

big brother au masterlist + taglist

It was Yuuji’s idea to go to the annual fair. You thought it was a great idea – it was an opportunity to get Yuuji out of the house, and the idea of seeing the toddler giggling on the children’s rides sent you off to your computer and buying three tickets.

Sukuna was not very fond of the idea, but you could have guessed that. He preferred to go to the fair with just you, but if Yuuji heard, he would probably throw a mini tantrum, and that would just be more work for Sukuna. So alas, it ended up being you three (as it usually was).

Yuuji was beyond excited when the three of you arrived, and Sukuna grips at the boy’s hood, sparing you a glance and rolling his eyes. “We need to get him a leash.”

You grin at him, scoffing but jumping slightly when an older boy shoves past him, making the toddler stumble backward. You grab Sukuna’s hand before he tries to yell at the other child and then pull Yuuji close to you. “There,” you sigh, successfully holding onto both of the brothers, “We all stick together. Don't get separated from us, Yuuji.”

“No running away!” he chirps, and you smile, nodding at him. Immediately Yuuji is distracted by all the flashing lights, and Sukuna has to hold onto the back of his hood to prevent him from accidentally wandering away. Sukuna claims the boy is just dying to get kidnapped, while you blame it on the toddler’s curiosity.

You guys make your way to the children’s side of the park, having to cover Yuuji’s eyes a multitude of times so that he doesn’t see the other rollercoasters. He was still talking about how excited he was to go on the rollercoaster that goes upside down a whopping three times – a rollercoaster boys of the age of four are not allowed to go on. Telling him would probably make him cry, so distractions worked better. Luckily, there were enough lights and stuffed animals around that pointing to something while you scurry past the rollercoasters distract Yuuji for long enough.

The first ride you guys made around to had an influx of people, but they all did, so the three of you stood in line listening to Sukuna’s complaints. Yuuji talked to the little girl who was also waiting in line just in front of him. Sukuna glares at you, listening to the children shriek and feeling the multitude of bodies pressed near him. “We are going home after this one.”

“No, we aren’t. Lighten up!” You try to encourage, rubbing his arm, and trying to ignore his displeased expression. “We are at the fair – look how much fun Yuuji is having.”

He glances at the boy, who, like always, is in the other child's personal space. He was clinging onto the girl’s arm and jumping up and down in excitement while the young girl looked overwhelmed. Sukuna pulls the boy’s hood, causing Yuuji to come tumbling backward. The boy, in return, merely cocks his head to the side, confused as to what he did wrong.

“Keep doing shit like that, and no girls are ever going to like you,” Sukuna reprimands, letting go of the red hood.

Yuuji frowns, still confused, and you step in, immediately crouching down to his level. “Remember what we talked about? Personal space, Yuuji. You got to give your friend some space to breathe, sweetheart.”

The boy nods, looking at the concrete floor – even if your tone is nice, no child likes to be scolded. But Sukuna just pushes him back over to the girl, ignoring the way he trips and falls, but immediately gets back up. The two children go back to their conversation, but this time Yuuji holds onto Sukuna’s leg so that he doesn’t accidentally get too close.

Sukuna turns his attention back toward you. “Do you think they will take him in?” His head tilts to the parents of the girl.

You roll your eyes but smile. “Uh-huh, and if they did, who would you use as an excuse to go on your favorite ride, the Kiddie Coaster”

“The more you speak, the more you tempt me to just leave you both here,” Sukuna says, but there was no real threat to his words. He leans back on the metal bar handles. “Ah, how peaceful life would be without the brat spouting bullshit. Just the empty house and I, what a dream.”

You lean back on the adjacent metal, crossing your legs and sighing whimsically. “Ah, I can see it now,” you start, and Sukuna raises his eyebrow. “You are gone, and me, Yuuji, and Choso are traveling the world together. What a beautiful lifestyle without hearing any complaints.”

“Ah, and then I hunt you three down and lock you up so that you three can never have fun without me. And I live happily ever after, still alone.”

You wonder what the couple behind you are thinking, considering they are probably close enough to hear whatever you guys are saying. But ridiculous conversations like these were common for the two of you. They never had real meaning behind the teasing words, especially since when the three of you began to load up on the small rollercoaster, Sukuna very quickly forced his lips onto yours and gives you a cocky grin before loading up next to Yuuji. And that was all the reassurance you needed – sadly, you dont get the last word, this time at least.

You two didn’t even try to sit next to each other, knowing that either way, Yuuji would demand to be placed in between you two. The boy was grinning like a madman, kicking his feet out and wishing that the ride would start sooner. Just before the ride started, Sukuna had made a teasing remark that the boy wasn’t strapped in properly, and could possibly fall out. You were lucky Yuuji was in such a great mood because the second you shut that ridiculous idea down, he immediately went back to giggling with excitement.

And a minute and a half later, the ride was over, and the toddler had more energy than before. He was practically buzzing with excitement, jumping up and down and reenacting how fast the rollercoaster was going with his hands and mouth sound effects.

You nod the entire time, smiling while the toddler babbles on about how much fun the rollercoaster was. It was adorable to watch, to say the least, and you were excited to take him on the next one.

Sukuna was not excited to stand in line next to children again. He grabs you by the wrist and drags you over to where the fair games are located. Yuuji grabs onto your own shirt and continues to talk to you while the two of you are basically getting pulled into an unknown location.

Eventually, Yuuji found himself in awe at the giant tiger stuffed animal that hung from the top of one of the tents. He was pointing to it and squealing for Sukuna to get it for him, and at first, Sukuna rolled his eyes and immediately said no, but then he also saw you staring at it. He taps your shoulder with his, rough enough to snap you out of your thoughts. “You really want the stuffed animal? That shit is for babies.”

“You are a pretty shitty boyfriend,” you sigh, not really taking what he said to heart, but still Sukuna immediately denies it. You ignore him and pet the child’s pink hair. “It’s for Yuuji.”

“I’ll win you the stuffed animal.”

“Win Yuuji the stuffed animal.”

“Tiger! Tiger! Tiger!”

Sukuna narrows his eyes at the two of you and then turns back over to the man hosting the game. He hands him some cash and mumbles, “If you scam me, I’ll kill you.” but the music paired with the abundance of people talking made it too loud for the worker to hear his threat.

The man hands him three balls, and the goal is to knock down a stack of metal cans. Easy enough, but this was a fair game, so there was bound to be some sort of trick to it. A trick that Sukuna does not know.

You and Yuuji stand a couple of feet behind him, cheering him on. Yuuji was now being held by you, sitting on your hip and pumping his fists in the air at the mere idea of owning the giant plush.

But, as you suspected, Sukuna did not win. He had managed to knock down two cups, and the last ball went flying past the man’s nose when he tried to taunt Sukuna. You could have guessed that would happen.

This time, you are the one to drag Sukuna because if you didn’t, surely that poor worker would have a broken nose by now. It was their job to taunt people, a part of the fun, but your boyfriend’s temper did not stand for that.

Yuuji was surprisingly fine with it – of course, he did look a little sad about losing the opportunity of owning the tiger, but in the next moment he was fawning over how strong his brother was. He was gripping onto Sukuna’s pants, while the man was borderline glaring at everyone that walks by. “So cool, Kuna! You threw so fast!”

You have to hold back a laugh the entirety of it because only Sukuna would be genuinely upset over losing a fair game. But you remain quiet and let Yuuji continue to babble on to his older brother.

Finally, after some time, Sukuna does look at his younger brother. He turns to him and grabs at his little shoulders. “This is a learning opportunity, so listen up, little brat,” he starts, and you furrow your eyebrows. Yuuji immediately perks up, ready to absorb anything his idol says. “Never trust anything. Life is a scam, and people are always trying to fuck you over.”

“Okay, yeah, so no. Yuuji–”

“Everybody is trying to steal your tiger.” Sukuna talks louder than you, and at this point, Yuuji’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Dont trust anyone or anything. Understand?”

Yuuji nods, not understanding anything that his brother is saying but trying to appease him. You pinch the bridge of your nose, also knowing that the boy is too young to understand anything. “That’s horrible advice. You are going to give him trust issues. And what’s with the tiger?”

“It’s a metaphor.”

You stare incredulously at your boyfriend. “Metaphor for what? That’s the worst metaphor I have ever heard.”

Sukuna shrugs. “Metaphor for life. Maybe you aren’t smart enough to keep up with my intellectual comparisons.” He holds a teasing smile, waiting for your own bite back.

“I dont want my tiger stolen!” Yuuji pipes up, and you spare him a glance, shaking your head and reassuring him that his tiger plush, which he does not own, will not be stolen from him. Sukuna continues to taunt him, and the two of you begin to bicker back and forth. Not with harmful intent, simply mindlessly arguing over something stupid such as a tiger plushie and the definition of metaphors.

Yuuji doesn’t say anything, head whipping back and forth to try and keep up with the conversation that he barely understands. But, eventually, after a minute of listening, he grows bored with the lack of attention on him, so he raises his hand and says, “I need to go potty!”

Sukuna groans, knowing that you will now be preoccupied with the boy again and has successfully lost your attention to a toddler. But you ignore the man and pick the boy up again, slightly frowning at him. “You need to go to the bathroom?”

“Uh-huh!”

Sukuna makes a show of how annoyed he is, but he also needs to go, so he doesn't complain too much. The three of you walk over to the moveable trailers that house the restrooms, with Yuuji holding your hand behind you as he points to every tiger stuffed animal you guys see on the way.

When the three of you arrive, you nod at Sukuna before walking yourself and Yuuji over to the women’s restroom. The boy always came with you, being too young to go into the males alone.

But Sukuna loves to make a show, so the second the two of you start walking in the opposite direction from him, he says, “Brat, where do you think you are going?”

Yuuji turns to him, still holding onto your hand, now with his head cocked to the side. “Potty?

Sukuna grabs onto the boy’s hood and starts pulling him away from you. “You are a man. You go to the men’s bathroom. Let’s go.”

The toddler was not considered a man under any circumstances, so you raise your eyebrows at Sukuna. It only meant that he was now the one to help Yuuji. So, you shrug, wave him goodbye, and say, “Good luck!” before you turn back to the women’s restroom.

Yuuji seems to look concerned as he was dragged away from you, considering he always goes with you to the bathroom, but he quickly grabs onto Sukuna’s pants, knowing that he may be left behind if he doesn’t.

And so the two of them went on with their business. The toddler nearly runs out of the bathroom, excited to go on the rides once again, but Sukuna barks a command for the kid to stay close, causing the boy to whine, but grab onto Sukuna again. The two of them wait for you in front of the women’s restroom.

Five minutes go by, and you are still not out. It took a long time, considering that the two of them took longer than usual because Sukuna sucks at helping the kid. But, Sukuna knows better than to complain; it could be “girl” problems like you often say.

Ten minutes go by, and now Sukuna is tapping his feet against the pavement while Yuuji presses his face to Sukuna’s side, fingers inside his mouth from nerves. “Brother, where is she?”

Sukuna ignores the boy, and calls your phone. He hears the annoying sound of your ringtone come from his back pocket, and he tilts his head back and groans. Of course, you would leave your phone with him in this situation. Yuuji blinks at him, confused as to what is happening. But then, Sukuna takes a step forward to an elderly woman approaching the bathroom, describes your appearance, and tells her your name so that she can help look for you in the restroom.

Two minutes go by, and the woman comes out and shakes her head. You weren’t in there. Sukuna’s eyes widen, before he tears himself from the wall with a sigh. He mumbles out, “If your ass goes missing, I am going to kill you.” and Yuuji’s own eyes widen at the prospect.

“Y/N m-missing?”

Sukuna grabs onto the boy’s wrist and begins to drag him away from the bathroom. “Not for long. Dont be useless. Keep your eyes open for her.”

And so, the two of them began to walk around the park for you. Yuuji had whined out that Sukuna was walking too fast and was holding onto his wrist too tightly, but it was just due to the stress of the situation. So, without letting the boy prepare himself, Sukuna reaches down and snatches him up, placing him onto his side. “Dont get used to it. Your ass is just too slow. Keep looking.”

Yuuji just nods, frowning and resting his head on Sukuna’s shoulder. If this were any other circumstance Yuuji would be buzzing with excitement, loving being held in general, paired with being close to Sukuna. But you were missing, and Sukuna was incredibly tense, so Yuuji didn’t feel comforted at all.

They had been walking for ten minutes, and at this point, you were missing for almost twenty-five minutes. Sukuna was cursing under his breath, scanning the fair that housed so many people and was successfully blinding him from you. It was getting dark at this point too.

Sukuna hears sniffles in his ear, and he quickly turns to his brother, hissing out, “Dont you dare cry right now.” The last thing he needed was sobbing in his ear.

Yuuji grabs onto Sukuna’s shirt and shakes his head, trying to hold back the tears. “W-Wont cry. Won’t. Where is Y/N? Brother, I want Y/N.”

The elder, in return, grabs the back of his hair and presses the boy’s face into his neck. He holds him there while Yuuji squeezes his eyes shut and latches on tighter to the man, feeling slightly better now that he is pressed close to his brother. “I am going to find her. Just focus on not crying; I dont want snot on my neck, little pest.”

Sukuna begins to rewalk his steps, heading back to the bathroom. He was glaring at everyone who walked by that looked concerned for the toddler who was holding back tears. Sukuna just holds the boy tighter and continues to scan the crowd to no avail.

The entirety of it, Yuuji is mumbling out, “No crying. No crying. No crying.” while tears slip down his cheeks. He also tries to look for you, but the second he pulls away from the man’s skin, he seems to want to cry even more with the lack of security. So the boy remains placed in Sukuna’s neck, mumbling out to himself while Sukuna ignores him and continues to search. The hand hasn’t left the back of Yuuji’s hair.

But, at last the two of them make it back to the bathrooms where you originally were supposed to be. Sukuna spots a figure sitting on the curb, looking equally as stressed as the two of them felt, but with two stuffed animals in their hands. He lets out a deep breath, relief washing over him and his rapidly beating heart.

Yuuji turns his head to the side when Sukuna pauses, and immediately the boy’s eyes widen. His finger points to you, and he lets out an “ah!” sound. The boy begins to stir in his hold, trying to squirm away so that he can run over to you himself. But Sukuna doesn’t dare let him go, and he skylines straight toward your mopey figure.

The high-pitched sound of your name snaps you out of your thoughts, and before you can even process completely who it is, you are engulfed in a hug. The familiar scent of your boyfriend surrounds you, and you are pinned to his chest, nearly suffocating from the force of it.

Yuuji switches from Sukuna and on to you, squeezing you at an unreasonable force for someone of the age of four. He was sobbing into your shoulder while Sukuna’s hand gripped the back of your neck. But after a long moment, Sukuna pulls away and glares at you. “You idiot. Dumbass. Where the fuck did you go? Are you trying to get kidnapped? Look at what you did to the kid. Are you trying to piss me off?”

He continues to insult and curse at you, demanding an explanation. He was worried about you and this was the way he was expressing it to you. You have to simultaneously comfort the two brothers, who seemed to be a mess without you. Yuuji had you in a death hold, and you had to try to sush his cries, questioning why he was chanting, “Dont cry. Dont cry,” while nearly hyperventilating from tears. Sukuna’s hand grips your shoulder, and he is still scolding you, but every once in a while, would stop himself and force his lips onto yours for a second before pulling away and cursing at you.

Sukuna demanded you explain yourself, and so you sighed and told him the story. You didn’t need to go to the bathroom, and you saw a smaller tiger plushie at a game stand down the line. So, you headed over to the booth, wanting to surprise Yuuji with the tiger. But you continued to lose and eventually got completely absorbed into the game. You did not even know the time had passed and that your phone was not with you, having put it in Sukuna’s pocket last ride. But, after about fifteen minutes, you won not only one but two tiger plushies. When you walked back to the bathrooms, they were gone. And so you waited for them, hoping they would come back soon.

You must have came back right when they left to find you – an unlucky turn of events. Sukuna simply shakes his head at your explanation and then leans forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder. “I am going to put a tracker on you.”

You try to lighten up the mood, petting both his and Yuuji’s hair, who is finally beginning to calm down. “It won’t work if I leave my phone with you.”

“I wouldn’t put it on your phone,” Sukuna remarks, grabbing your hand and grinning at you.

You dont have a clue what that means, so you just shake your head with a sigh. Yuuji’s eyelids are growing heavy from all the walking, the crying fit he had, and the fact that he didnt have his nap today. He leans onto your shoulder and begins to doze off, even with all of the noises.

The two tiger plushies remain on the curb. You sigh and pick them up, holding onto Yuuji’s for later, and giving Sukuna the other one. He gives you an unamused glance. “Why would I want a toy? I am a grown man.”

“Because I won it for you and to prove that not everyone is trying to steal your tiger. ” You quote, referring back to his ridiculous metaphor from before, that holds no meaning.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “It doesn’t really work.”

“Hm?”

“The metaphor. Doesn’t make any sense.”

You raise your eyebrows, surprised he admitted defeat. He must have been in a good mood since he had found you. “Yeah, I know. You failed English three out of the four years of high school. No wonder you dont know how to use metaphors.”

He pauses for a moment, thinking, and then shrugs and doesn’t say anything. You call it a win for you. The two of you exit the park, now that Yuuji was asleep and Sukuna could not be any happier to leave. You probably won’t be returning to the fair for a couple years, knowing him.

When you get home, you tuck Yuuji into bed – he was already completely out, drool coating his chin. You place the tiger stuffed animal next to him, excited to see his reaction to it in the morning.

And you were right – he did have a reaction, way too early in the morning. At 6 AM, the door of you and Sukuna’s shared room flies open, and toddler squeals fill the air. He jumps on your bed with the stuffed animal in his hands and chants, “Tiger! Tiger! Tiger!” while the two of you groan out.

Sukuna, in his half-awake state, grabs onto the boy’s ankle, sending him tumbling onto the bed when he tries to jump. But the boy merely giggles, and this time Sukuna steals the stuffed animal, places it under him, and goes back to sleep.

You are awoken with two mini hands placed on your face and the sight of Yuuji pouting. The first thing you hear that morning is, “Kuna stole my tiger!”

A second later, two tiger plushies are being chucked at the boy. The boy falls back again with an “umph!” from the force of the throw, and the bed rumbles from Sukuna’s laughs.

“If only you used that aim on the fair game,” you mumble, eyes still closed and trying to snuggle into your pillow.

“Just didn’t have the right target.” You hide a smile, not wanting to give Sukuna the satisfaction of making you laugh by insulting Yuuji.

Yuujis giggles echo in the room, and you blink at the boy. He was sitting on Sukuna’s chest now and shoving his stuffed animals in his brother’s face. “Two tigers! Two tigers!”

Sukuna groans out, shaking his head and wishing desperately that he was sleeping. “Your tigers are about to be headless in a minute if you dont stop talking.”

Yuuji shakes his head and pushes the plushies into Sukuna’s neck. “Tigers say, grrrrrrrrr! Wake up Kuna, grrrrrrr!”

The tigers somehow mysteriously go missing three hours later. You could only hope that their heads were still intact – knowing Sukuna, they probably were not.

#mello.writes #big brother au #sukuna x reader #kid yuuji #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #yuuji fluff #yuuji tadori fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #female reader #f! reader #fem! reader

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xxxdreamscapexxx · 9 months

Text

Sweet trouble

Pairing: Step!Mother Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 12.7k

Summary: Being left home alone is the perfect time to catch up on all your secret activities. What you don't expect is that your Step Mother has secrets of her own, or that you'll stumble on them accidentally. What will happen when she finds out you've been going through her things?

Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, Stepcest?, masturbation, edging, teasing, oral, fingering, finger sucking, Mommy!Kink, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader

Masterlist with all my works.

When you woke up this morning, you never, in your wildest dreams imagined that one of your most secret, most shameful desires will come true. It was something you had only seen in fanfiction and maybe twisted porn, but never believed real people did, or that it could in fact, happen to you. Truthfully, if someone had told you such a thing will happen, you would have scoffed and called them crazy.

But you were getting ahead of yourself. Your morning started the way it often did during the summer. You got up and walked down the stairs, to find Wanda sipping her coffee and scrolling through her phone. As usual, she put it away as soon as she saw you and she greeted you warmly.

Wanda Maximoff was your stepmother. She had married your father a little over 4 years ago, but you had known her for almost 5 and despite having a rocky start with the woman, you actually had a great relationship with her. She was warm and sweet and she never treated you like a child, nor did she try to “replace” your actual mother, who did her best to stay in your life. In fact, Wanda treated you with respect and kindness and you soon saw her as a friend.

Well… That wasn’t entirely true. You started seeing her as a friend at first, but over the years that connection shifted. She talked to you about the things your parents never wanted to, she always listened without prejudice or judgement and gave amazing advice. She also cared about your interests and she supported all your hobbies and little projects and she even often helped you.

Wanda was there when you decided to make a replica of the “T.A.R.D.I.S” from “Doctor Who” and spent an entire weekend helping you build it, so it would end up perfect, she watched every scary movie you asked for, because you could never bring yourself to do it on your own, and even though you were both scared, she always pretended not to be. For your sake. And then, when you were too scared to sleep alone, she pretended to fall asleep on the couch and let you snuggle into her, even if her back hurt the next day. She encouraged your writing, she read every book you ranted about… She supported you when you came out. For all those things and so much more, you gave Wanda your love.

Unfortunately for you, those were also the reasons why at some point, you stopped seeing Wanda as a friend and started seeing her as the woman of your dreams. Yes, cheesy. But true. And that idea gnawed at you ever since you stopped trying to lie to yourself.

The truth is, you spent way more time with Wanda than your father ever did. He was good, a good man and a good father, but his work often had him travelling for long. When you were young, he often took the whole family with him. Had private tutors for you, made sure you were educated by the best and brightest and the love of learning connected you together. But as you grew older, that life drove your mother away. To make the matters worse, he realized you needed stability just around the same time he met Wanda and soon, you were left in the big house, surrounded by housekeeping and your new stepmother, while he was away for months at a time. But at least he let you attend high school, instead of hiring more tutors, so you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You often wondered why Wanda chose to be with him when you, his daughter, knew more about her, spent more time with her and, you were sure, loved her far more than he did. But you never dared to ask and she never spoke of that, preferring to focus on you instead and you reciprocated that interest. You watched her favourite sitcoms with her, spent afternoons making pottery with her, which resulted in way too many crooked ceramic mugs in your home that you never knew what to do with, but loved too much to throw away. You taught her calligraphy, after you showed her your first story and she declared that you have the “prettiest handwriting” and asked you to teach her. In turn, she gave you cooking lessons, because her food was by far, the best thing you had tasted, until it became a tradition that you made dinner together.

God, you shared so much of your life, so much of yourself with the woman, you gave so much of yourself to her, that it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise that you ended up falling for her. And her way with you didn’t help matters either. And yes, it wasn’t something outrageous. It was little things, like the way she’d hold you, pulling you closer into her side during movie nights, which by the way were almost every night. It was the way she sat with you on the couch in the study, reading her book while you did homework, mindlessly playing with your hair, it was her protective on the small of your back, when you felt surrounded by people, the way she always knew when you needed her to step in and save you from strangers, or the soft way she held your hand when you went somewhere together…

It was never one thing. It was a million little things and each one had you falling more and more deeply in love with her, until you couldn’t deny it anymore. You realized it during your junior year, when all your friends wouldn’t shut up about boys and their crushes and all you would think about was Wanda. What plans you had with her, what you’d watch with her, what meal you’ll be making together, where you’d go over the weekend… It was all Wanda. Even in your dreams. And to make matters worse, those dreams soon manifested into your waking hours, flooding your thoughts with nothing but her.

Now, the beginning of summer after senior year, when you had decided to take a gap year before college and focus on yourself, your writing, perhaps even travelling, you were fully aware that you wanted none of those things without her. You hadn’t booked a single destination, because you hadn’t yet the courage to ask if she’d join you. You had stopped showing her your stories, because they were all about her and despite your best efforts had turned highly suggestive and then straight up erotic, up to the point that they no longer soothed you, when you thought of Wanda, but rather left you even more turned on and needy.

The neediness, unfortunately for you, had been another new development. No matter how many cold showers you took, how many times you masturbated to thoughts of her, the ache between your legs never quite went away. Actually, every time you’d see her, every night when she cuddled you and played you a movie, every evening when you helped her make dinner, each hot afternoon spent at the pool with her, left you a horny mess.

Today, after you helped Wanda make breakfast, that the two of you shared, she asked you if you’d like to go out with her. She had some errands to do and she promised to make it fun, despite the tediousness, offering you lunch at your favourite restaurant, or perhaps a small shopping trip in the afternoon, but you declined, opting to stay home instead.

To be fair, you wanted to go with her, you wanted to spend every second you could with her, but being left home alone meant that you could perhaps catch up on your writing without her seeing you and asking to read your story, or finally take care of the ache between your legs that lately never went away, but you were never alone for… Maybe even do it, the way you so often longed for, but never could… God, you were a twisted girl. But you couldn’t help it. You just wanted her so much.

Wanda seemed a little bit surprised and frankly disappointed by your refusal, but she took a deep breath and she wished you a nice day, before she took her purse and her car keys, phone tucked in the back pocket of her tightly fitted jeans and she left, putting on her stylish sunglass, before opening the front door and disappearing from your view.

As soon as she was gone, you rushed to the study, reaching out behind a cluster of old, dusty books and taking out the Paperblanks hardcover journal dedicated to Edgar Allan Poe that she got you as a gift. It was beautiful and stylish and filled with all the stories you wrote about her.

As soon as the notebook fell open, you saw the last page you had written on and your fingers traced the last paragraph, reading through it. “You don’t hesitate when your fingers lace with my hair, your grip firm as you hold me in place and you study my face. My mouth open, my tongue sticking out as it awaits your dripping pussy...” Yes, you remember that and your legs instantly cross over each-other at the wave of arousal, but you keep it at bay.

For the next few hours all you do is write. Your fantasies running rampant and free and filling the pages. It was almost a trans-like state, your hand moving almost on its own while the images in your head played out in front of your eyes. It felt freeing to be able to “share” your thoughts somehow, even if no one ever saw them and you only reluctantly stopped, when your stomach growled for food and your hand was cramping.

You made your way to the kitchen, groaning, your writing session had left you wet and so needy, that despite your instincts and Wanda’s voice in your head, telling you to eat something heathy and filling, you pulled out a fruit yogurt with mango and maracuja and ate it, leaning on the counter, wanting to stretch your legs a little.

Finished with your “meal”, you headed upstairs, making your way to the bedrooms. Yours was at the end of the hall and you headed for it, but stopped mid-way, when you saw Wanda’s bedroom door was slightly ajar and you stopped right in front of it, debating with yourself. You knew you shouldn’t go in, that it was an invasion of her privacy, but your heart was so full of longing for her that you eventually reasoned, that you’ll only look around… Just get her scent in your nostrils and leave.

As soon as you walked in, your eyes started to search the unfamiliar space. It’s not that you’ve never been here, but the room was so alien to you, one you’d spent the least time in, that it almost didn’t feel right. You certainly never dared be so inquisitive, when Wanda was there with you.

Your eyes scanned every object, every photo, most of which were of you and Wanda and you allowed yourself to breathe in the aroma of everything Wanda. It smelled like clean sheets and her favourite vanilla and Himalayan magnolia air freshener, like her perfume and just something uniquely her. God, you’d roll around in it if you could.

Everything seemed so perfectly in order, her bed made and without a single crinkle in it, the room so pristine and clean. It was lovely, and your heart skipped a beat at the thought that you wished you could wake up here, next to her each morning.

Walking further into the room, your curiosity almost entirely satisfied now, you ran your fingers over the objects she had on display. Souvenirs from trips the two of you had went to, her certificate for completing a “beginners” course in Latin dances, that she only went to for you and that you had stopped attending, because you hated how every man in the studio drooled over her, the ceramic figurine of a cute bear that you made her one time, a bowl of sea shells that the two of you had collected last summer at the beach…

You were just about ready to leave, when the sight of a drawer, half-open and because of that seeming out of place, caught your attention. Everything was so perfectly in order in this room, that it looked so strange to see it left like this and you went to it thoughtlessly, pulling it open to inspect its content, only to gasp in surprise at what you found there.

It was full of toys. Sex toys, to be exact and you couldn’t help but stumble backwards a little at seeing just how many there were. Dildos in all colours, shapes and sizes and made from different materials were organized, each in its individual place. Handcuffs, soft Velcro cuffs and steal, regular ones easily distinguished. Ropes, blindfolds, some butt plugs, vibrators, lube, a couple of harnesses and even other things that you couldn’t name or guess the intended use of, could be seen laid out and you studied them with deep curiosity.

Did Wanda use all these? Did she lay here, in her big, soft bed and play with herself at night? What did she think about? Who did she picture in her fantasies, when she buried one of these toys inside herself? Did she do it slowly, or did she like it rough? How did it feel to be stretched out and full?

As your mind was flooded with questions, you mindlessly got closer, your hand reaching into the drawer and your fingertips grazing a rather large, realistic looking dildo. You’d never actually seen toys in real life, so the sensation was both strange and exhilarating. Sure, you were 19 now and could buy them if you wanted to, but the thought just never appealed to you.

You just couldn’t picture it. You’d never had anything other than two of your fingers inside yourself and it had already felt too much. You couldn’t even imagine what something so big would feel like or would do to you. Did Wanda enjoy the feeling of them? Did she ever wear her harness and bury one of these inside someone or did she like to be on the receiving end? You certainly liked to imagine yourself on the receiving end of one of her toys, especially after you learned of her past with women. She had shared those details when you came out to her, hoping to soothe you and help you feel like you’re not alone, but you never imagined that you’ll one day walk into your stepmother’s bedroom and find so many toys, or that you’ll find yourself wishing you could see her play with them… God, the one you reached for looked so big, so thick in your hand. That could never fit inside you.

Yet the thought of Wanda stepping into her harness and picking out a dildo from her collection, while you waited for her in the bed, spread out and so needy for her, had your legs squeezing together in search for relief. Would she tie you down? Would she be sweet and soft? Would she use her fingers and her mouth? What would it feel like to have your arms wrapped around her, to be able to kiss her, as she had her way with you?

Fuck, you needed relief. And you needed it now. And you knew you should just go to your room and do what you always did, but this time you couldn’t. You couldn’t just close your eyes and picture Wanda, when here, in her room, all your senses were surrounded by her.

You hesitated for a moment, considering the danger, but it was still early and all the staff had the next few weeks off, so you knew you’ll be all alone. You could just… Lie down. Not even under the covers, just on top of her sheets and maybe pull your panties to the side. They were all wet already. You’ll just pull your dress up and take care of that ache and then you’ll fix Wanda’s bed and leave.

You knew it was a bad idea, but in your brain, clouded by lust, you couldn’t help yourself and gave in. So you did exactly as you planned, the skirts of your dress bunched up around your waist, your panties pulled to the side, while your fingers circled your clit. You lay on your stomach, you face buried in Wanda’s pillow and inhaling her scent as your mind filled with images of her. It was wonderful. God, it was heavenly. But it wasn’t enough. Before you knew it, you had made yourself orgasm twice already, but the desperate feeling never went away. You needed more.

You slowly turned, laying on your back, your hand finding its way back to your clit, but it was only a measure to keep you calm while you thought. What could you do? And almost like fate, your face turned to the open drawer full of toys and an idea sparked inside you. You could… No, that was an extremely bad idea. It was wrong… But maybe, it could help?

Getting up, telling yourself you’ll only take a quick look, you made your way back to the drawer and looked inside. You had no idea how to choose, so you trusted your instincts, picking a fairly small, pink dildo that seemed to look cute and entirely forgetting what a terrible idea this was, you made your way back to Wanda’s bed with giddiness, lying on your back and looking the toy over for a moment, before reaching down.

You rubbed the toy’s head against your opening, getting it slick with your juices and teasing your clit a little, before you started to slowly push it inside. The stretch felt unfamiliar, the toy, despite being small, still being larger than your fingers and you took your time to let it sink in deeper, allowing your pussy some time to adjust to it.

In just a few minutes, you had it fully inside you, the base pressing against your opening and oh, it was perfect. It was exactly what you needed and you quickly reached down with your free hand, finding your clit and adding the extra stimulation. Thoughts of Wanda quickly made their way into your head and you started to imagine the older woman doing exactly what you did to yourself, her hands working you perfectly, while her velvety voice wrapped around you and made you lose yourself entirely.

Taking your time to let it unfold, your body buzzing with excitement and pleasure, your muscles tightening, you knew you were about to have one of the best orgasms of your life, when suddenly, you heard the front door open and shortly after shut itself.

Fuck!

Sitting up, you heard Wanda’s keys land in the bowl with yours and your nervous anxiety hit a new high, when she called out your name form the living room.

Fuck!

She’d start looking for you soon, if you didn’t act quickly! God, what do you do? You needed to get out of there!

Your eyes roamed around the room nervously, toy still buried inside you and you knew you couldn’t put it back like that, covered in your slick! She’ll see it eventually and then she’ll know what you did. In the rush of the moment, you did the only thing you thought would be smart. You put your panties back where they belonged, seeing the imprint of the dildo against them and you got out of her bed. You tried to smoothen it as much as you could, but you herd her voice call out your name again, this time from the kitchen and you knew she’ll come up the stairs next. In a rush, you just closed her drawer and practically ran out, leaving the door slightly ajar as it was and you hesitated if you should go to your room, but before you could make your way there, you heard Wanda’s steps as she ascended the stairs and you knew there will be no time.

Closing your eyes for a moment, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress and feeling the fullness as you tried to calm your nerves, you committed to the decision you knew you had to make and despite every instinct of yours, you rushed towards her, meeting her just as she was at the top of the stairs.

“Ah, Y/N, there you are! I was calling you.” She smiled as she saw you, reaching out to give you a hug.

“Yeah, I heard you, I was just coming to meet you.” You manage to say, forcing a smile.

“Are you all right, honey?” The older woman’s eyebrows furrowed. “You look a little flushed.” She said with concern, one of her hands reaching out to feel your forehead. “And you feel warm too.” She determined, her eyes scanning you.

“Yeah, I’m all good.” You tried to reassure her, still practically blocking the older woman’s path.

“You sure?” Wanda asked once more, concern evident in her eyes and you tried to calm your nerves.

“I promise.” You tried to say with conviction and hoping your knees wouldn’t buckle.

“Ok, honey, but if you feel unwell, you’ll tell me, right?”

“Of course.” You smiled warmly and, seeing that the woman seemed to be going to her room, the place where you had just been, you tried to dissuade her. “Hey, I was wondering, could we have pasta for dinner today? The one with the special sauce you make?”

“Sure, honey.” Wanda beamed, her hand stroking your cheek softly before she moved past you. “Let me go get changed and we’ll go make it together.” She suggested.

Not wanting to seem weird, you let the woman pass and after watching her enter her bedroom, you actually relaxed a little, thinking that you could use this time to go back to your own room and pull out the dildo still nestled inside you, when her voice forced you to stiffen once more.

“Hey, honey, why don’t you go and take out the vegetables from the fridge and start washing them? I’ll be right down.” Wanda called out, interrupting your train of thought and destroying any chance you had of going through with disposing of the cursed toy.

“Ok.” You called out, facing the stairs defeatedly.

In your guilt over what you did, you felt like you couldn’t risk saying “no” and going to your room instead, not wanting to rouse Wanda’s suspicion. So, a little wobbly on your legs and feeling even more aroused than when you first went in her bedroom, you walked down the stairs, doing exactly as she asked, planning how to excuse yourself later and pull the damned thing out of you.

Wanda walked into her bedroom and started to unbutton her shirt, asking you to start dinner as she went, but suddenly stopped, her eyes narrowing. It wasn’t that there was something particularly wrong, it’s just that something felt out of place and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Shrugging, she tossed her shirt on an empty chair and started to take off her jeans next, leaving herself in just her underwear and going to the closet to pick out more comfy clothes. She put on a pair of black sweats and took out a dark red top that she knew you loved and put it over her head, turning to leave, when her eyes narrowed again.

Her bed was all wrinkled and the covers were looking lumpy and it bothered her somehow. Did she leave it like this today? She leaned down and started to fix it, her hands smoothing the covers and tucking them in as she always did, when her palm ran over a damp spot. Now this really caught her attention and she inspected it more closely.

It looked like a small wet spot, more visible now that she knew to look for it and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Had you been here? But why would you be on her bed? That didn’t make sense, until a realization came over her, like pieces of a puzzle coming together. Your flushed face, the way you tried to block her path, how out of breath you seemed and this… The state of her bed… She suddenly straightened, rushing to her drawer.

As soon as she opened it, she knew what you had done. She knew her collection very well, knew exactly what she owned and where it was, so the absent pink dildo was like a glaring hole in the middle of her drawer. But why hadn’t you put it back? Had she gotten home and interrupted you? That seemed more and more likely and at the thought, she could only sigh.

Wanda was a lot of things, but stupid just wasn’t one of them. She realized you had a crush on her somewhere around the end of your junior year and at first the thought scared her. Sure, she had noticed you turning into a beautiful young woman, she wasn’t blind, and you had already shared with her that you were gay, but she never imagined you’d develop feelings towards her. Naturally, she thought it was simple curiosity. You were growing, it was normal. It would probably go away on its own. You were surrounded by girls your own age, with young bodies and unburdened by life, so she believed you’d soon move on.

But as time passed those lingering looks you gave her started to be accompanied by something else. A kind of longing in your eyes, a kind of shy almost hope that she couldn’t quite place. Until eventually she did. Wanda knew you better than anyone in the world, she knew what made you tick and as she watched your gaze follow her, while she sipped wine, your eyes fixed on her lips and your legs squeezing together, she realized that your relationship with her had changed. You saw her differently.

That thought scared Wanda more than she ever expected and she excused herself quickly, practically running to her bedroom and burying her face in her pillow and her first thoughts were for you. She felt terrible, imagining how scared you must be, how sad and disheartened to be infatuated with your father’s wife. She kept thinking about how alone you must feel, not being able to tell anyone. How heart wrenching it must be to spend every day with her and know she was with another.

In her eyes you were her girl and she held so much love for you that the knowledge that she caused such feelings inside you, that she caused you so much pain, was devastating to her. After realizing what really bothered you, she spent so many sleepless nights, thinking of you. And in her love, she thought the best thing for you would be to pull away from you.

Yes, she didn’t love your father anymore… If ever. He was hardly ever home, hardly ever spending any time with her, always promising to retire, but never doing so… The only reason she stayed all this time was always you. She married him because she wanted a family, never expecting that she’ll find that in you. And when she had… Well… That made her choice very easy. But you were such a young girl. An old soul, admittedly, but still so young. She couldn’t let you spend those sweet years pining over your stepmother. So pull away she did.

Little did she know how devasted you’d be, feeling her absence as a hole in your heart and crying so many nights, when you thought that she no longer wanted your presence. She watched your heartbreak from afar, hating herself for it, yet thinking it would be for the best, until one night, when she heard you speak to one of your friends on the phone.

Your broken voice almost made her cry then and there and she vowed to never do that to you again. So she made sure that things went back to normal, to the routine the two of you had, but she never quite stopped noticing how the love in you bloomed.

The summer vacation after your junior year she spent entirely with you, having a grand time going to the beach, sunbathing, while you read books and drank cocktails together. Yours virgin, of course. But she’d let you have a sip from hers every once in a while, to indulge your curiosity. She’d rather let you drink with her and make sure you’re safe.

Then came your 18th birthday and the party you hosted at the house, you and your friends having fun around the pool and she thought that with all these people around you, you’d lose interest, but you never did. After everyone was gone, all you wanted was to cuddle up to her on the couch and watch your favourite movie with her. You always preferred her to anyone else, chose to stay home and try new recipes, rather than go out and she thought that perhaps this thing you felt for her was serious.

And once that knowledge settled inside her, it no longer bothered her. And with acceptance came something else. Something she never thought she had in her. A kind of curiosity of her own.

Obviously, she was flattered to know you had such feelings for her. You were a young, sweet thing, your life was just starting and she… How could she take advantage of you?

Then again, you didn’t make it easy for her. The way young girls did, you flirted boldly, openly and in gestures of sudden bravery. You flaunted yourself to her whenever you got the chance. Wearing skimpy bathing suits and even asking her to fix the strings for you, asking her to go shopping with you and dragging her into lingerie stores, showing her different sets and asking her opinion, wearing short dresses and tight shorts whenever she was around, which happened to be all the time… Asking her to watch scary movies with you in your room, cuddling into her in nothing but your panties and a t-shirt and then asking her to stay when you were too scared to stay alone.

Ugh, you were a tease. She’d feel you wiggle unnecessarily, so you’d “settle” and you’d blush furiously anytime she so much as looked at you. She’d wake up with your back pressed against her front, your ass pressed up against her as you slept happily, and every time you’d pull one of those stunts, she’d feel you chip away at her resolve.

You were so soft, so sweet, such a delicate thing, your skin smooth and flawless under her fingertips. Whenever you’d ask her to stay with you, falling asleep on her shoulder, she couldn’t help but stroke the exposed skin of your bare arms, the length of your thighs, just to feel you. It was a small action, was it not? Done out of curiosity. And it soothed her to be able to get this small thing for herself, since she had promised herself not to take you entirely.

Your last year of high school passed like that, with you parading yourself and eventually Wanda broke. She told herself she’d never make a move on you. It was wrong, but she needed an outlet for her frustration. That’s how she first spent a night thinking of you while she touched herself. Not that thoughts of you hadn’t crossed her mind before, but she always pushed them away. But when she no longer could, that one action broke the dam.

The images of you flooded her mind constantly and she found herself seeking relief in the privacy of her bedroom, imagining she had you to play with. She thought of all the gloriously depraved things she could do to you, the things she could teach you and all the ways she could corrupt you. It would be so sweet.

It got worse as your feelings progressed and she’d often wake to the sounds of your moans in the middle of the night. The first time such a thing happened she rushed to your room, thinking maybe you’re in pain, only to see you sprawled on your bed, legs spread wide and your hand moving furiously in your panties. You thought you were being quiet, that you were being subtle, but honestly, she could sometimes make out the way you called her name as you made yourself cum.

Now, looking in her drawer of toys and realizing what you’d done, she tried to let it go, but she just couldn’t. You went behind her back, sneaked into her bedroom, snooped through her things, used her toys and masturbated on her bed. As much as she was impressed by your boldness and surprised to find that your desire for her went that far, she was furious. You didn’t even have the decency to hide it well! Why didn’t you just wash the toy and put it back? Did you still have it? Ugh, she was angry!

She knew you probably didn’t mean for it to go this far, but she just couldn’t help it. How was she meant to stay away from you, to keep her resolve and refrain from marching down and fucking you senseless, when you did such things? She had to teach you a lesson.

Her fingers clenching over the edge of the drawer, knuckles turning white, Wanda was ready to slam it shut and storm down the stairs, when her eyes landed on a pink remote control. It was for the dildo you had used and she was surprised you hadn’t taken that too, before she realized you probably had no idea it had a vibrating function. Or maybe you hadn’t gotten that far. Who knows? Either way, an idea sparked into her head and she decided to test a theory and if she was right, tonight she’ll teach you a lesson and pay you back for every time you’d teased her, every time you paraded yourself in front of her, every time you tempted her and made her crave you.

In the back of her head, she knew what this decision meant. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. If she went through with it, she’d go all the way. Closing her eyes and breathing in, she tried to think clearly, but she had reached the end of her restraint, the end of her self-control. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want this anymore. She had to have you.

Taking the small remote control, she put it in the pocket of her sweats and she walked down the stairs. She found you prepping the vegetables, just as she asked, your cheeks still flushed, but you tried to act as normal as possible. With a smile, Wanda did the same, starting to make the dough for the homemade pasta and starting up a light conversation with you.

“So, honey, what did you do today?” She asked sweetly.

“Oh you know, just normal things…” You trailed off as your legs squeezed together.

“Yeah? Did you finish the new book I told you about?”

“No, not yet. But almost. I’m so excited to see what happens.” You tried to feign interest, but Wanda knew you. You hadn’t read a page. “What about you, did you have a nice day?”

“Nice isn’t how I’d describe it. But I’m glad to be home.” She responded shortly. “You know, sweetie, why don’t you get the sauce started and leave it on the stove, I’ll watch it while I make the dough and you can sit down. You still look a little flushed.” She suggested and you sighed with relief at her offer, doing as she asked, finishing as quickly as possible and making your way to a chair in the kitchen, sitting down and watching her cook, the way you have so many times before.

Except, as soon as you sat, you realized it was a mistake. The dildo, still nicely nestled inside you, was pressed against the surface of the chair and pushed as deeply as it could go, causing you to let out a small whimper at the feeling of being so full and even with her back to you, Wanda knew that her suspicion was right.

“What was that, dear?” She turned to look at you for a moment, your legs squeezing together so tightly your muscles shook.

“N-nothing…” You stuttered out, a hand gripping the edge of the table.

My, you were so responsive. You must have been close, if you were this worked up. How delightful. Wanda was going to have so much fun with you.

Unaware of how closely you were being watched, or of the wicked plan your stepmother had formulated for you, you started to gently rock on the chair, the movement bringing brief relief to the aching between your legs. But Wanda wasn’t going to let you just fuck yourself right in front of her. If anyone was going to fuck you tonight, it was going to be her.

Reaching into her pocket, she felt around for the buttons of the remote control and she turned it on and let it start at the lowest setting. Your reaction was instantaneous. You gasped, trying to do it quietly and softly, but she heard you none the less.

Feeling the dildo start to vibrate had you stiffen on the chair. God, did your slow grinding press the start button on the device? It was possible. Now you felt the gentle hum of the lowest setting and it drove you crazy. Perhaps with some concentration you could ignore feeling the toy inside you, but you couldn’t contain yourself like this. It was nestled at the deepest parts of you and vibrating against an especially sensitive spot and it had you shaking.

“Wanda, I think I’m going to lie down.” You suddenly said, swallowing hard and preparing yourself to stand.

“Oh, sweetheart!” She gasped when she turned to you. You looked a mess and it was absolutely breath-taking. She always wanted to see you like this. Now that she was so close, she wasn’t going to let you slip away so quickly. “What’s wrong? You seem even more flushed. And your forehead is so hot, baby, maybe you should lie down on the couch, so I can take care of you.” She suggested with concern. “I’ll bring you a cool cloth for your forehead and a glass of water.” She suggested, offering you her hand and guiding you to the couch.

“No, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just lie down upstairs for a bit.” You tried to protest, following her lead on instinct, despite your wish to escape to your room, but she was having none of it.

“But, sweetie, you can barely walk.” She argued, guiding you to the couch. “Look at that, you’re shaking. Lie down here for me, honey. I’ll take care of you.” She suggested, helping you lie down.

She went to grab you a glass of water, just as she promised and, on her way back, she watched you squirm and try to contain the sensations going through your body. When she made you drink at least some of the water, she left the glass on the table and she went to get you a cool cloth for your forehead, but not before sticking her hand in her pocket and increasing the speed of the vibrator.

A loud moan graced her ears just as she did it and she could hardly contain her smirk as she walked back to you.

“Now, honey, you stay here and rest and I’ll go check on dinner and I’ll be right back, ok?” She explained with a soft voice and she stroked your cheek affectionately, basking in the state you were in.

Your cheeks were burning with a mixture of arousal and shyness, your whole body squirming with need, even your hips bucking, when you thought Wanda wasn’t looking, loving the stimulation, yet needing so much more. Fuck, she could play with you like this for hours. If she had it her way, she’d strip you down first, of course, but there was plenty of time for that later. She’d watch you writhe and make you beg to be allowed to cum, push you to admit what you did and then tease you some more as punishment for it. And once you’ve surrendered, she’d make you cum over and over again, until you can’t take anymore. She’ll take your shaking little body upstairs and help you get cleaned up, so she can cuddle you to sleep. But she was getting ahead of herself.

She went to check on the pasta and the sauce you were making, stirring the pots and making sure that it wouldn’t get burned. She often looked at you at the corner of her eye, watching you writhe and, deciding to take pity on you, she clicked the off button on the remote control in her pocket, seeing you instantly settle in both relief and frustration. It was obvious you wanted more, that you needed that orgasm badly, but you didn’t want to get caught and Wanda smirked to herself. She’ll make you beg for an orgasm soon enough.

In the next minutes she let you rest, while she set up the table and finished dinner, not wanting to overwhelm you too much too early. She came over to you carefully, checking to see if you managed to put yourself together and you indeed looked much better. The frustration from the teasing and edging was obvious, but other than that you were holding up quite well and she smiled.

“Hey, honey, how are you feeling?” She asked softly. “Do you think you can come to the dinner table, so we can eat, or should I bring your food here?” She suggested, smiling.

“I’ll come to the table.” You agreed, removing the damp cloth from your forehead and taking her hands, so you could stand.

“Ok, baby, wash your hands and let’s eat.” She smiled softly at you.

Once you settled, poorly hiding a whimper when the dildo was once again pressed into your depths and against your most sensitive spots, you struggled to find topics for a conversation, but Wanda distracted you, telling you about her day and keeping your mind occupied while you ate. It was still hard to keep your urge to grind down on the toy sometimes, especially when Wanda would look at you with those pretty green eyes and swirl the wine in her glass, before sipping it. How could she be so sensual without even trying?

“Wanda, I think I’ll head upstairs. I feel tired.” You tried to excuse yourself after the meal was finished.

“Oh, really?” She said with disappointment in her voice. “You sure? I was thinking we could watch a movie together.” She suggests, pouting at you cutely and melting your heart.

“I don’t know…” You hesitated, wanting to stay, but feeling your walls contract around the dildo inside you and almost making your legs buckle.

“Maybe for a bit?” She offered with hope in her eyes. “You lie down and pick anything you want to watch and I’ll make us some popcorn. If you’re still not feeling well, I’ll help you upstairs.”

You tried to refuse her, you really did, but the truth was, that you could never say “no” to Wanda Maximoff. She was your greatest weakness and you knew you’d do anything she asks, no matter what, so you settled onto the couch, searching through the movie options and finding one that looked promising, while she brought over the big bowl of popcorn she made, sitting down next to you and pulling you into her side, just as she always did, kissing the top of your head affectionately.

You played the movie, trying to distract yourself and reminding yourself that all you had to do is get through the movie with her and then you’ll go to your room and have all the orgasms you wanted. It was just a couple of hours with Wanda.

But you’d barely gotten through the intro, when the vibrator came to life with a sudden buzz and you had to refrain from grinding against the couch at how good it felt. But that’s all the restraint you could show and you quickly realized Wanda was looking at you with concern.

“What’s the matter, sweetie? Is everything all right?”

You barely nodded, pretending to watch, when all you could do was do your best to stay still in Wanda’s hold. God, how did this thing turn on again? How do you stop it, before you have an orgasm, right there, sitting next to the woman you were desperately in love with? Worse! What if she hears the vibration? Could she hear it right now?

It was driving you crazy and holding back became increasingly difficult as time passed, your breathing going more erratic and just when you thought that it will happen, regardless if you wanted to or not, the vibrations suddenly stopped.

“Did you say something, honey?” Wanda turned to you once more, making you realize that you had whined pretty loudly.

“N-no.” You stutter out, shaking your head and she barely contains the smirk forming on her face, before it gives away just how much she’s enjoying this.

She gives you a break, letting you calm down, before she turns on the vibrator again, startling you and this time you look at her, trying to see if she actually noticed, but Wanda had her attention on the TV.

The damned thing was driving you crazy, but you couldn’t help a thought that crept into your mind. Why does it keep going on and off? Was it you? You were sitting pretty still… And then another, more shocking thought sparkled in your mind. Could Wanda? No, that was absurd. Even if she found out you took it, how would she know you still had it inside you? Would she do this on purpose?

As you turned to her, studying her expression, you couldn’t imagine Wanda doing such a thing. But you had to know for sure. So you waited for that moment when you got close, your body starting to lose some of its control and just as you were about to fall off the edge, the toy stopped, leaving you desperate and needy, extremely frustrated and utterly shocked. Did she just put her hand in her pocket? Did she have the remote there?

You had a million questions almost clouding your brain and you had no idea how to ask, no idea how to approach that subject, scared that if you were wrong, you’ll give yourself away, when Wanda suddenly turned to you.

“I see you finally figured it out.” She said in a low, raspy voice, smiling. She was almost predatory with the way she was looking at you, her soft green eyes now full of intensity. “Don’t you know that taking someone else’s things without permission is wrong?” She asked, raising a brow at you expectantly.

“I… Wanda… It’s not…” You tried to say something coherent, putting a little distance between your bodies, but you were in a state of shock and you couldn’t find the right words to explain.

“Not what it looks like?” She finished the sentence for you, scoffing. “I highly doubt that. Or are you going to deny that you snooped through my bedroom and took something that doesn’t belong to you?” She asked sternly, her eyes fixing you.

“I… ” You tried again, the words never coming out. “I didn’t mean to!” You tried, knowing it was a useless protest.

“Well, what did you mean to do, sweetness, hm? Come on, explain it for me.” She challenged again, raising a brow at you impatiently.

She gave you some time to collect whatever was left of your thoughts and she waited for you to say something coherent, but nothing actually came. There was no excuse, and you knew it well.

“Wanda… Please.” You said quietly, not even sure what you were asking of her, just knowing that you couldn’t stand the way she was looking at you, couldn’t stand how disappointed she was.

“Should I tell you what I think happened, hm?” She asked, her tone having that stern edge again. And before you could answer, she continued. “Or are you going to tell me yourself?” She asked again, holding up the remote control that was previously sitting in her pocket. “Do you need a little incentive?” She asked with a predatory grin, a slender finger hovering over the start button. “Maybe another edge or two would loosen your tongue?” She suggested, almost turning the device on.

“Oh my God, Wanda, please, no! Please! I can’t take anymore!” You begged pitifully and her heart melted a little, knowing you’ve probably never been edged. Even now you had your legs squeezed together, your eyes fixed on the remote she was holding.

To be fair, Wanda never intended to be cruel with you. She only wanted to be kind towards you, but you had pushed her buttons today and it had brought out a side of her she never wanted to show you. And you had never earned such treatment from her either, so she found it hard to contain her emotions, but she took a deep breath and tried to soften her features.

“Please, I’ll never do that again!” You pleaded.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart.” She said with surprising gentleness, stroking your cheek affectionately. “I’ll make sure of that. But you’ll have to tell me why you did it.” She explained.

“I can’t…” You tried to protest again, voice shaking. How could you explain that you’re in love with her?

“If you can do it, you should be able to talk about it.” Wanda coaxed.

“Please, let me just go upstairs and I’ll clean everything up and…”

“Oh, no, it’s too late for that now.” Wanda interrupted you, knowing where you were trying to go with that thought. “You don’t get to pretend that nothing happened.” She added with a thoughtful expression. “You see… I tried to pretend that I don’t see the way you act, or your little skimpy outfits, or the way you look at me. I tried to pretend that I don’t hear you calling my name at night, when you touch yourself… I tried to stay away and be a good stepmother, a good wife… And then you go and do something like this… Tell me, Y/N, what should I do with you now, hmm?”

Her words, the way she said them… The admission that she knew of your feelings sent you spiralling all over again and you didn’t even know where to begin. What were you meant to say? What did she intend to do? Was she going to tell your father? God, you hoped she wouldn’t. Not even because you were so afraid of him, but because you were so afraid of losing her. You never wanted to lose her.

“It would be so wrong of me to take you.” Wanda continues, talking more to herself now, her words taking a surprising turn. “So wrong… But you make it so hard for me to resist you.” She confessed. “You’ve been driving me crazy.” She said in a low voice, getting closer to where you stood, cupping your chin with her fingers, so she could make sure that you’ll look at her. “Do you know how hard it has been? Watching you offer yourself to me so shamelessly, listening to your moans at night, hearing you call my name and having to stay away from you…” Wanda’s gaze had darkened, making your pussy throb around the vibrator inside you and leaving you even more needy and helpless in her hold. God, you wanted her! “Do you know how many nights I almost didn’t? Do you know how many nights I had to cum to your filthy little sounds, imagining that it was me, making you feel that good?” She asked, searching your face.

You couldn’t believe the words that kept coming out of her mouth, couldn’t believe that she would ever want the same thing you did, that she would even give you the time of day… You wondered if she really meant it. Yet she kept speaking, her words making the ache between your legs almost unbearable and the need to grind against the vibrator nestled inside you harder and harder to resist. You were ready to combust. Fuck, you were ready to let her do absolutely anything and everything to you, just as long as she finally took you.

“Tell me something, honey…” Her words pulled you from your thoughts. “Do you want Mommy to make you feel good? Is that why you pulled this little stunt? Wanted to get my attention?” She asked, watching your eyes go wide at the mention of the title you used, the one you moaned out when you thought of her. “Oh, yes, I know what you like to call me.” She smirked. “It has a very nice ring to it, when you moan it out, touching yourself.”

You could only whine, too scared to admit how badly you needed her, how much you thought of her, how long you’ve waited for this moment, but Wanda didn’t rush. She held your gaze and she searched your eyes, filled with longing, as she let you think this through. If she was going to do this, she would do it right.

“Wanda… Please?” You uttered in almost despair, not knowing how to ask for what you wanted and not daring to hope that you would be lucky enough to get it.

“Please what, sweetheart? What do you want?” She asked softly, her thumb brushing your cheekbone as a way to soothe you. “You’ll have to use your words.” She coaxed, when she saw the way you took her hand, trying to guide it lower, to where you needed her most.

“Mommy…” You whined once more, trying to plead with her, hoping that it will affect her enough to finally make that final move.

Hearing your pleas, hearing that title pass your lips as you looked at her was easily pulling at her heart strings. It was also making her want to ruin you. She couldn’t deny that it did something to her and despite your poor behaviour today, she wanted to be good to you, wanted to care for you, to shower you with the love and affection you deserved, but she couldn’t make that move, not before you asked. She had no intention to be cruel to you, she just wanted to be sure, that you wanted to take that step with her.

“I know you’re feeling shy, dear, but this matters to me.” She said softly. “I need you to know what this means and I need to know that you want it. For that, you’ll have to use your words.” She clarified again, waiting for her words to sink in, but this time she didn’t have to wait long.

“You know I want this. For years I’ve wanted this, wanted you. And I never thought you’d ever see me, the way I see you, but Wanda, if you do… Please, don’t make me wait anymore. Please?”

As soon as she heard that, she leaned forward, capturing your chin with her fingers and looking deep in your eyes, letting the anticipation build between you, before she slowly connected your lips in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and soft, she moves tentatively, bringing her body closer, so she could let her tongue explore you as well, and she’s pleasantly surprised when your hands grip her top, pulling her on top of you.

Just this small contact had your heart fluttering with joy. You never thought this could be your reality. It felt so good to feel her weight against you. You had waited too long for this. You had spent so many endless nights thinking of just this. But Wanda was worth it. To be able to smell her, to taste her for yourself, you would do it all over again.

Her hands were just as gentle as they ran up and down your neck, or buried themselves in your hair and you couldn’t help but moan and whimper as you desperately tried to get more friction and more attention from her.

She was trying to take it slow, letting herself feel the culmination of her longing and just enjoy the way your lips felt, but it just wasn’t enough. She wanted to feel more of you, feel every part of you against her and explore every millimetre of your gorgeous body. This moment between you was long overdue and you both knew it.

Tentatively, she straddled one of your thighs, pressing her knee against your aching core, hoping to provide some much-needed relief to you both, but it only made you needier and more desperate for Wanda to finish what she started.

“Mommy, please.” You whispered softly, breaking the kiss to look up at her with longing and she instantly understood.

As much as you hoped to hold yourself together, as much as you wanted to prolong this moment, scared that if you opened your eyes, she’ll disappear, you couldn’t help the way your pussy throbbed. You had waited hours, teased and edged and filled to the brim with no relief and you couldn’t stand it a second longer. You needed to cum, or you were going to combust.

Wanda met your gaze, her head spinning from how lost she let herself get in your kisses, only to see you in a similar state. The love and adoration in your eyes, all that pent up longing and your pleas were irresistible. She had to indulge you. Then again, she also had to teach you a lesson and it felt right to use this toy. You had started all this by taking it after all.

With a devilish grin, Wanda reached into her pocket, feeling for the remote control and blindly pressing the start button. She felt the toy come to life with a sudden buzz, the vibrations dull against her knee, but from the way you gasped at the sensation, she could tell you were having a much more intense experience and she let it continue its work, while she took you in a deep kiss.

When it became too hard to keep up with her, your mind too distracted by the pleasure, she started to kiss her way down your body, kissing your neck and helping you grind against her, elated to hear the way you moaned and whimpered from every small touch. God, you were gorgeous.

“Look at you.” She admired you with a soft smile. “I’m about to make you fall apart, while fully dressed and without a single touch to your pussy.” She rasped, her hands massaging your breasts through the fabric of your dress and bra.

Her words made your cheeks burn and pulled another whine from you, yet you couldn’t deny how hot it was, or how badly you wanted it. In fact, they only made you grind against her more, trying to pull her in for another kiss, desperate to feel her against you.

She was right too. You were shaking beneath her, your movements turning more erratic, the closer to your edge you would get, and knowing that once you were there, you wouldn’t be able to stop it.

“Mommy, please I want to cum.’’ You pleaded softly. “Please, don’t stop it this time.”

“So pretty when you beg.” Wanda smirked. “You wanna cum, my darling?”

“Yes, want to cum so badly.”

“If you want to cum, you have to promise Mommy some things first.” Wanda explained, removing a strand of hair from your face. “First: You’ll never take Mommy’s toys again without permission.” She stated sternly. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mommy, I promise.” You nodded, body squirming under her intense gaze. God, you were close.

“Second: No more touching yourself. And no more cumming unless you have Mommy’s permission either.” She explained while she trailed soft kisses down your neck. “Understood?”

“Yes! Yes, I understand.” You almost screamed, your hips stuttering against her. “Fuck!”

“Good.’’ She smiled triumphantly. She could probably get you to agree to just about anything right now. “But most importantly, no one else is allowed to see you like this, to touch you like this, to feel you and fuck you and kiss you the way I can. You’re all mine, got it?” She almost growled in your ear, one of her hands tangling in your hair to make you look up at her.

“Yes! God, yes! I don’t want anyone else, Mommy, just you. Please! I just want to be yours. Please? Can I be yours? Can I please cum?” You spoke in a high-pitched tone, your desperation reaching new hights as you heard the possessiveness in her voice.

Wanda could tell you were seconds away from your orgasm and the smile that spread over her face when she reached into her pocket, stopping the vibrator, could only be described as evil. She found it amusing that you would think that she’d let you cum like this, with a toy you had taken from her, instead of getting to feel you for herself.

“Oh my God, no, no no…” You whined, tears prickling your eyes as the sting of denial hit you full force. It was horrible, being so close, yet unable to finish. If Wanda wasn’t right on top of you, you would have reached down, trying to finish it yourself. At the same time the pleasure that burned through you, unyielding and demanding was somehow sweet.

“How does that feel, my sweet girl?” Wanda asked with a calm, self-satisfied tone that had chills run down your spine. Something told you that she would love to do this to you again. “Frustrating, right?”

“Yes.” You whined, as your nails dug into her arms, as the orgasm you had built started to dull down and fade.

“That’s what it felt like, every time you teased me.” She explained with a growl. “That’s what it felt like, to find out you took something of mine without my permission.” She added, as she took down your panties, her eyes zeroing in on the pink vibrator nestled inside you. “I’ll do much worse, if you try something like that again.” She snarled, the threat clear in her voice.

“I wouldn’t Mommy, I promise.” You squirmed under her inquisitive eyes.

“Learned your lesson, huh, my darling?” She smirked, pulling out the dildo as well, discarding it on the floor carelessly, so she can admire your sweet pussy. You were so beautiful like this. Legs spread wide, slick folds on display and your desperate pussy twitching with need and excitement. You were perfect. “Then let me show you how good I can be to you.”

With a smile, she teased her fingers over your sensitive folds, playing with your clit and pulling small moans from you, before she eased her digits inside you. Your tight walls accepted her gladly, fluttering and pulsing around her happily and a string of moans filled her ears. She curled them experimentally, looking for your sweet spot and it didn’t take long to find it, your back arching off the couch in delight.

“Yeah, that’s your spot, isn’t it? Right there.” She emphasized her words, by pressing on it again.

“Yes, right there!” You sighed, back arching as the pleasure inside you started to grow again.

Wanda’s fingers were even better than the toy, stretching you deliciously, as they moved just the way you liked and you couldn’t believe that you had lived so long without getting to experience them.

Her hungry eyes were stuck on the view of her fingers moving in and out of you, your juices sticking to the palm of her hand, that she made sure to press against your clit at each stroke. It was obscene how much you reacted to her, how badly you needed her and you tried to pull her closer, so you’d hide in the crook of her neck, but she wouldn’t let you.

“No need to be embarrassed, darling. Mommy loves to see how good she makes you feel.” She husked, but gave in none the less, wanting to feel you close to her.

She peppered soft kisses on your cheeks and jaw, trailed them down your neck and against your ear as you moaned for her, clawing at her clothed back and it took everything in her not to stretch you out with a third finger. When your walls tightened around her, gripping her hard, she knew you were getting close again, your insatiable little pussy just begging her for more.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” She asked sweetly. “Are you going to make a mess all over my fingers?”

“God, yes!” You gasped, trying to pull her impossibly closer.

“Show me.” Wanda husked, claiming your lips in another kiss, nestling even closer to you, pulling your legs around her waist, so she could press against you snugly, almost folding you in half as her fingers worked your G-spot.

The position was surprisingly intimate, your body trapped under Wanda. It felt snug and safe, all your senses surrounded by her. You could smell her perfume, see the curtain of her soft, wavy hair falling around you, taste her as she kissed you, feel her deep inside you as you reached your edge with soft moans of pure pleasure.

When you finally fell over it, she helped you ride the waves of extasy, her fingers never stopping their movement. You were writhing under her, but she held you down effortlessly, until you gave her everything you had to offer and she pulled out of you with a contented grin.

“That’s my good girl.” She praised, lifting up her fingers to inspect them and slowly putting them in her mouth, so she could clean them up. “And so delicious too.” She added happily.

For a moment she contemplated letting you rest, but her own arousal was driving her crazy, the wetness in her panties a stark reminder of how badly she needed some relief. But it wasn’t just that. She hadn’t even properly undressed you yet, hadn’t had a chance to taste you from the source. She wanted to do so many things to you…

“Thank you.” You purred like a happy cat, stretching a little from underneath her.

“Such good manners.” Wanda mused. “Always such a good girl for me.” She smiled, noting the way you beamed proudly at her praise. “Think you can help Mommy undress you?” She asked, waiting for your happy nod of consent and your eager adjustment, so you can help her lift off your dress and discard it.

For a moment you felt a little insecure about yourself, despite the many times you had paraded yourself in front of Wanda, but she didn’t let you dwell on it for too long. She kissed you deeply, her lips never leaving yours, while her hands reached behind you and unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere behind her, while her hands explored you. Your skin was so soft to her touch, your body responding to every little caress and begging for more.

You were gorgeous in this state and she wanted to show you just how much she truly loved you, wanted to show you how deep her feelings really went, wanted you to know that this meant everything to her. You meant everything to her.

“Can I see you too, please?” You asked shyly, while she massaged your breasts, eyes fixed on them hungrily.

“Of course, darling.” She smiled knowingly, probably realizing how shy you must feel, being the only one naked. “Do you want to do it, or should I?”

“May I?” You practically beamed at her, sitting up in anticipation.

“Of course, sweetness.” Wanda smiled softly, stopping her movements, so she could give you some space.

Undressing Wanda was almost a spiritual experience. Each item of clothing you were able to remove revealed more of her beauty to your adoring gaze and she felt the swell of pride when she watched you take in every curve with admiration. It felt so good to be admired so openly and she allowed you to take your time, to kiss and caress her, as you shed her clothing.

When you unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts, you almost drooled at the sight of them. Perky nipples stood at attention, begging to be worshipped and you barely had time to ask if she’d let you, before you did just that. Capturing each breast in your palms, you swirled your tongue over her nipples, sucking on them gently and smiling when you pulled soft sighs of pleasure from the older woman.

As you finally reached her underwear, lacy, red panties fully capturing your attention, you couldn’t help but gasp, when you found her just as wet as you were.

“Do you like seeing that, honey? Do you like knowing you make me this wet? Do you like knowing that every night I heard you call out to me, I got just as wet, touching myself to the thought of making you mine? Does it excite you, knowing that you caused all this?”

“Yes, Mommy! I always wanted you just like that. Always wanted to know how you would feel, what you would taste like, if I could have you in my mouth.” You confessed, remembering each time you fantasized that Wanda would find you with your hand between your legs and give you exactly what you wanted.

“Well, now that you have me, have a taste.” She nodded happily, helping you take off her panties and spreading her legs, to give you a good view of her soaked folds.

Instead of answering, you just kneeled, slipping off the couch effortlessly and finding your place between her legs. With the sight of her soaked panties and the delicious smell of her reaching your nostrils, you could already feel your mouth water. There was something so erotic about having her above you like this.

Wanda looked as regal as a queen as she let you take her in in all her glory. Darkened, green eyes never looked away from you, as she left everything on display. And by all the gods, she was magnificent. Everything about her was pure perfection and you were happy to stay right there, on your knees, forever, worshipping and admiring her, if it wasn’t for the hand, that soon tangled itself in your hair, pulling you closer to her.

She leaned in, kissing you fully and only pulled away, when you both needed to breathe.

“Don’t make me wait too long.” She said as she leaned back against the couch, the hand in your hair pulling you forward and closer to where she wanted you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You smiled, moving forward on your own and taking a small experimental lick.

Her reaction was instantaneous, her fingers tightening their grip and pulling you all the way, until your mouth was flush against her. She sighed with satisfaction, her legs spreading wider, to give you more room to explore her and by God, she tasted so good. You wanted to devour her whole.

“Yeah, that’s better!” She sighed, her hips canting up against your mouth, as your tongue swirled over her clit. “Just like that, baby.”

Her praise was almost hypnotic, sparking something inside you, an urge to be better than all her other lovers, to show her that you’re worth all this, that you would earn the privilege to be hers. To show her that you would learn what made her feel good, what made her moan out in pleasure, what had her screaming and bucking her hips into your mouth. You’d learn it all and you’ll give it to her, just so she would call you her good girl again.

“Fuck, yes!” She cursed under her breath. “So fucking good with your mouth.”

Her hand in your hair kept you firmly against her, nails scratching at your scalp as Wanda guided you through what she wanted. And she wasn’t shy about it either. The closer she got, the more she used you for her pleasure, her legs planted on your shoulders as she rode you even more.

“Fingers, honey. Put your fingers inside me.” She spoke breathlessly, almost suffocating you with how much she pushed you into her pussy, when she felt you enter her. “Yes, just like that!” She praised. “Such a good girl. Gonna make Mommy cum so hard.”

The prospect of making her cum had your excitement reach new levels and you doubled your efforts, swirling your tongue around her clit in circles that seemed to drive her crazy. You could feel her walls pulse around your fingers, squeezing you and pulling you in, as far as you could go and you knew she wouldn’t last much longer.

Wanda reached her edge with a high-pitched moan, her thighs squeezing around your head and the hand in your hair tightening its hold on you almost painfully, just as she started to fall apart. The orgasm that built in the pit of her stomach spread like a tidal wave, coursing through her entire body as she shook against you.

She could feel your free hand gripping her thigh, trying to keep her steady as you helped her ride it all out. When she did, body slumping on the couch with a happy sigh, she hurried to pull you up and into her embrace. Getting to cum with your mouth and fingers felt so much better than the empty nights she spent with her toys and she knew she wouldn’t be able to give you up, even for a second.

When she was able to recover, she got up, helping you to your feet with a gentle hand.

“Let me take you upstairs, sweetheart.” She suggested. “I believe you had an interest in my collection?”

Her words were full of innuendo and you practically leaped, following her up the stairs and only stopping in front of her bedroom.

“Wanda?” You looked up at her, a little insecure.

“Yes, darling.” She paused, at hearing her name pass your lips, instead of the title you chose to give her.

“Is this…” You tried to ask, but couldn’t find the right words, biting your lips in anticipation. “Does it mean…”

“You mean everything to me, Y/N.” She said reassuringly, clearly understanding what you wanted to ask.

She had spent her whole life looking for love like yours. For someone, who would worship her the way you did. And now that she had it, she couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. Couldn’t imagine ever sharing you with another soul, or letting anyone ever touch you the way she did. As soon as she kissed you, she knew that she will commit to you for good.

“Do you mean it?” You looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Because I…”

“So do I, my darling.” She smiled softly at you, knowing that neither one of you was ready to admit it just yet.

The two of you stood there, in front of her door, for a few moments longer, just smiling at each-other, letting your eyes say the things you couldn’t form into words, before you couldn’t stand the tension any longer.

“May I kiss you again?” You asked a little shyly, fighting the urge to hide into her again.

Wanda’s smile only widened. She opened her door, the soft light from within illuminating the perfectly pristine space, as she pulled you closer to her.

“Come inside, sweetheart and you can do so much more than just kiss.”

______________________________________________________

I just might have to make a part 2 to this fic, because there is just so much left unsaid here... But at least I get to share the beginning with you guys! Let me know what you think!

If you liked this story and you want more, please visit the Masterlist with all my works. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: Image not mine. I'd happily give credit to the owner if I knew who they were :)

#writing #lesbian #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff smut #bottom!reader #top!wanda #scarlet witch

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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months

Text

DCxDP fanfic idea: In 30 minutes or less!

Danny is a delivery man.

He got the job after realizing his resume was severely lacking in terms of working experience.

Also when he needed more money for his own purchases. There is a big difference between begging his parents for an allowance and earning his own spending funds.

The thing is, no matter where Danny applied, he was not getting a call back. Jazz warned him that a majority of Amity Park didn't hire them - as she also attempted to get a part-time job when she was his age - because of the Fenton last name.

She swore and hissed, but she couldn't prove that it was the reason they weren't hired. She just heard the talk around the town. They all said they wouldn't want to hire from the lunatic family.

That whenever a Fenton went , something bad quickly followed.

It stung, that not even Nasty Burger wanted him. That placed hired people under sixteen for Pete's sake. But Danny was resourceful. If Amity Park hadn't hired him, then he would just try the other place he had civilianship in.

The Infinite Realms.

Danny figured that if societies existed with the Realms, then they had to have a form of currency. He just needed to find one that used the same one as his world did.

FrostBite was more than happy to point him in the right direction. Since his people were the ones to spend generations attempting to map out the Realms, he had found a part of the ghost zone that Danny could blend into easily.

It was only a thirty minute commute from Danny's family portal. He could easily make that after school.

Thus, Danny flew to the portal location FrostBite told him about and ended up in a place called Central City. He found employment very quickly at Joel's Pizza, and for sixteen dollars a hour he was racing across the city to give some sizzling pizza pies.

. He was given a company scooter, but Danny preferred to fly. No one saw him as he never turned off his invisibly until he arrived at the destination. He got great tips for his speed, and his boss was fun to work for.

His parents are proud that he has a job and is not causing trouble. His friends also have their own jobs so Sam and Tucker have to plan their meet ups now- buts that's just a part of growing up.

The only thing that made his part-time difficult was the ghosts. Not all of them bothered him now a days but a few still did.

Like Young Blood. The brat didn't seem to care that Danny was going to be late to a shift since he had no concept of the importance of adult responsibilities. He was able to text his boss an apology using school as an excuse, but he was still thirty minutes late and sporting a black eye.

Joel stared at him for a long moment, muttered something in Spanish, before handing him five pizza boxes, and told him to take it to the central city police department. Danny was supirse he didn't even lecture him.

When he got to the station, the person in front told him to wait a moment since it was the forensic department that ordered food. He waited a few minutes until a blond man came down the hall, with a cheerful smile.

That smile fell when Danny turned to look at him. There was a brief flash of something dark that crossed his expression before the smile was back ten fold

"Hello," Danny said, standing up. "Order for Barry?

"That's me!" The man grins, holding out a wad of cash "Keep the change."

Wow. A fifty dollar tip!

"Sure thanks!"

"Welcome kid!"

Danny practically skipped away, Barry Watching him climb onto his scooter and slowly blending back into the traffic.

He turned to look at Officer Dawn "Is it just me or was that kid covered in bruises?"

Officer Dawn's mustache twitches with displeasure. "He definitely was. Looked fresh, too. Not only that but he works for Joel Pizza"

"This Joel a trouble maker?"

"The opposite, he was a foster kid. Once he aged out and got his own business, he started hiring teenagers in similar situations. Usually, his staff are all kids who are having a rough time. If things are too bad, he makes reports, but we try to avoid it. Don't want to lose one of the few trustworthy safe spaces for those kids." Officer Dawn's hesitates for a second before he carefully asks."A cop poking around may spook them, but a forensic chemist won't. Do you mind finding out what the delivery kid's deal is for me?"

"I look into it." Barry promises already knowing the Flash is also going to be following the boy just to make sure he safe.

He hates it when kids get hurt. Remind him too much of Wally.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp #dcxdp crossover #30 minutes or less!#Danny deliveries pizza #when you broke you make things work #Is Amity Park discriminatory? yes but only towards the fentons #they cause a lot of property damage #Flash is on the case!#misunderstandings

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ao3commentoftheday · 5 months

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I've always found it hard to find the right words for comments, but I used to try and put down something on all the fics I liked but after seeing what some of my writer friends, who are fairy popular in their fandoms, say privately in the groupchat about some of the comments they get, I can't bring myself to leave any comments at all any more.

I know it's a form or unloading where they can salt without hurting anyone and I generally think that's a good thing, saltmates are needed so you can talk about all the crappy annoying things in fandom in a private space and not spread shit on tumblr or ao3 etc.

But It's so so disheartening to me as a comment shy reader because it's never good enough. If it's just emoji hearts or someone saying "second kudos" it's too short and worthless. If it's epicly long well-written, funny, sweet, and clever love bombing, then it's too much and annoying.

I just don't understand, I don't write myself, I draw, badly, and I never get the kind of praise they sometimes get, but I would LOVE to have some of those things said about my work.

I love my friends a lot and I'm a firm believer in saltmates, but it makes me a little crazy and very paranoid to see the difference between what they say in private and what they actually answer to the comments in public on their fics.

I've read a lot here on tumblr about how fic writers love ALL comments etc etc and a lot of tips and tricks for people who have problems leaving comments, but I dont trust that now and I never comment anymore because I do not want a writer of a fic I love to think such things about me, even if it's just in their minds in private.

Do I have extra salty friends or is this a common thing among writers that no one wants to admits out loud?

From my experience, as a writer in fandom on and off for 20-ish years and as the mod of a comment-positive fandom ask blog, your friends are extra salty.

Have I heard people get frustrated with "I liked this!" comments? Sure. But for every one of those, I hear at least 10 people who are giddy and bouncing and just over the moon that someone liked their fic. I've never heard anyone complain about "epicly long well-written, funny, sweet, and clever love bombing." Most fic writers I know would probably pass out from happiness if they received one of those.

I don't know your friends, of course, but it sounds like someone in the group got a little toxic at some point and the rest of them went along, for whatever reason. Maybe burnout was a factor. Maybe they had a specific thing they wanted to get from their comments section that they weren't able to receive. Whatever the cause, the effect on you is bad.

I know you didn't ask for what to do about this, but I'm going to lay it out for you anyway:

stay in the group chat and feel worse and worse about every comment you've ever left on a fic

say something to your friends and ask that they have those conversations when you're not around (your choice if you include the part about it being because they make you feel bad)

leave the group chat and maybe also lose those friends

None of those options are great, but your current situation already sucks so it might be time to try something new.

I'm so so sorry that they made you feel like your comments weren't enough, anon. You don't deserve that. No one does. I hope if those authors see this ask that they pause and reflect and realize the audience they were speaking in front of.

I agree that people need a place to be salty, and I appreciate them doing it in a private space - but it wasn't private enough. ❤️

#asks and answers #long post

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theemporium · 4 months

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blurb request for oscar - maybe he gets jealous/possessive and this is the first time you see this side of him

thank you for requesting! and thank you to @scuderiahoney for brainstorming with me since it's partially her fault i am writing oscar again!!🫶🏽

It genuinely didn’t bother him at first. Or at least, not that much.

He had noticed it. He would have been fucking blind to not notice it. In fact, he wasn’t the only one to notice it because Lando had brought it up to him. They had been walking through the paddock, making their way back towards the garage after a press conference when he spotted the two of you in the distance.

“Does it not bother you?” Lando had asked, pausing whatever conversation they had been talking about to nod towards where you were standing.

Truthfully, Oscar didn’t even need to follow his line of sight to know exactly what he was talking about. But he did anyway, maybe because some twisted part of him liked torturing himself that little bit more when he found you deep in conversation with one of the intern engineers—Oscar vaguely remembers his name being Greg or something along the lines.

“No,” Oscar told him, and it was only partially a lie. “She’s just talking to him.”

“They seem close,” Lando noted, glancing towards his teammate with a knowing look.

“I trust her,” Oscar had replied. And he did trust you. He trusted you irrevocably. He trusted you with his life and his heart. But that didn’t mean something deep in his stomach twisted whenever he saw you laughing away with Greg.

“It’s not her I think you should worry about,” Lando muttered under his breath, but they had reached the garage by that point and the conversation never continued.

But despite his trust in you, he didn’t trust Greg—not one single fucking bit.

Because it wasn’t just a passing interaction or a budding friendship. It was starting to creep into something more, something so slow and subtle that maybe other people didn’t notice but Oscar fucking did. He noticed it every single time.

The second he wasn’t by your side, Greg would jump in. The second he had to get in the car or talk to his team, it seemed like Greg had taken it upon himself to keep you company. The second you were in the paddock after not attending a few races, Greg would be greeting you like he hadn’t seen you in years.

Oscar tried to push down the bitter feelings bubbling in his stomach. You didn’t look uncomfortable or bothered by Greg’s company, and the last thing he wanted to do was come off as some controlling, territorial boyfriend who dictated who you spoke to. If anything, it should have been reassuring to him that you were making friends in the paddock to spend time with when he was busy with the team.

He just really wished it wasn’t Greg.

Yet, despite his restraint and promise to himself to keep his mouth shut as long as you were happy, Oscar could only be pushed so far before he snapped.

It was a good race. In fact, it was a great fucking race. After what seemed like a disappointing qualifying that was setting up a shittier race, Oscar hadn’t had high hopes for the weekend. In fact, nobody in the team did—for either car. But it felt like something had just come alive in the car and the second the lights went out, there was a new buzz that had him speeding through the pack.

It wasn’t a podium weekend, which was always a gutting occurrence. But ending the race in P4 was more than enough for Oscar when the team weren’t even sure if he would make it in the points. He was buzzed, he was on a high and he felt like some of the stress of this weekend had been taken off his shoulders.

However, when he made his way back to the garage to celebrate with the team and you, he was confused when he was unable to find you the second he got out of the car. That confusion fizzled into something far more bitter and resentful when he noticed Greg huddled beside you, yapping your ear off as you stood there, nodding and smiling.

He didn’t even realise he was making his way over until he had saddled up beside you, his arm curled around waist like the touch would ease some of the tightness in his chest.

“Sorry, mate, mind if I just steal my girlfriend for a second?” The words had left his mouth, but the usual friendliness was long gone. His words were sharp, blunt even. And he genuinely couldn’t bring himself to care in that moment as he dragged you away before Greg even had the chance to open his mouth, his body working on pure muscle memory to lead you both to his driver room.

It hadn’t even hit him what he had done until the two of you were finally in the privacy of his driver room, the door locked and the rest of the world shut out.

“Oscar,” you said his name and the tightness in his chest returned.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out before you could even say anything more. “I just…he is always there. He is always fucking there and I just wanted you for myself just once. All I could think about since I crossed that line was hugging you and then I got out the car and I just saw him and—”

But his rambles died on his tongue when he caught the way you were staring at him, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“What? Why are you smiling like that?” Oscar questioned, his brows furrowing together. “I just acted like a caveman and you’re smiling.”

“A caveman,” you repeated with a snort, shaking your head before you took a step closer to your boyfriend. “Well, caveman or not, I thought it was kinda hot.”

Oscar blinked. “Huh?”

However, you just shrugged your shoulders. “What? You’re always so calm and collected, it was nice seeing you get a little worked up.”

He watched your expression closely. “So, you’re not mad?”

Your face softened as you reached for the boy, winding your arms around his waist. “I’m not mad, Oscar. If anything, I’m more relieved. He was kinda annoying, like he never shuts up.”

Oscar let out a relieved breath, but his frown remained as he took your face in his hands. “You should have told me if he was bothering you.”

You shrugged again. “It didn’t seem worth the drama,” you admitted. “You should have told me if it upset you.”

“I didn’t wanna seem like a dick,” he confessed with a sheepish expression on his face. He paused for a moment before thinking better of it, pulling you against his chest as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “I promise I’ll tell you next time if you tell me too.”

“Deal,” you murmured as you sunk into his embrace. You waited a few moments, expecting the boy to pull away but he never did. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he spoke, his breath fanning over the skin of your neck. “Just…makin’ up for the lost time he stole from me.”

You snorted. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed innocently.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assured the boy, smiling a little when you felt a soft peck against your neck. “But I would really appreciate it if you could go shower first. You kinda stink.”

Oscar snorted. “Geez. Thanks.”

You grinned. “C’mon, caveman, the quicker you shower, the quicker I’ll hug you again.”

#oscar piastri #formula one #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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papercorgiworld · 4 months

Text

Boyfriend material

Reader is starting the new year in search of a little fun and a boyfriend. Pansy helps here pick the right outfit and guy.

For Blaise, Theo and Mattheo this will be a two part ‘porn with plot’ thing. This is part one and holds the plot. No Enzo part two, because apparently I can only write so much smut before my brain goes brrrr. Sorry.

I added a part 2 for Enzo!

Warning: reader has a little dirty make out daydream. Slytherin dudes have some naughty thoughts as well.

I had fun writing this. I really hope you like reading it. Kisses.

“New year, new me. I’m no longer a boring girl. I’m going to find myself a nice, good looking guy and get crazy with him.” You started as you sat down next to Hermoine. She laughed in response. “You don’t need a guy to have fun or to be cool.” But before you could say anything Pansy plopped down next to you. “Yes, you do, so who’s the lucky guy?” Hermoine rolled her eyes.

You looked around the great hall and settled on a handsome sixth year. “Him.” You tilted your face his way, subtly pointing. “Ew! No! Boring!” Pansy spat. “What’s wrong with that guy?” Hermoine asked, narrowing her eyes at Pansy. “You wanna be popular, you wanna have fun, you gotta date someone on top of the food chain.” Pansy said as a matter of fact and Hermoine mocked the last words of her sentence.

You ignored the tension completely and simply asked. “Who’s on top of the food chain?” Pansy looked around to search for a good example. “Aha!” She said pleased, when she saw who just walked in and grinned at the girls next to her. “Oh no.” Hermoine sighed as she saw a particular group of Slytherins enter the great hall. You simply pursed your lips at the idea. But you brought yourself back to reality. “How’s a gray mouse like me gonna date the top of the food chain?” Pansy simply wiggled her eyebrows and Hermoine was definitely worried now.

***

The next day you made your way to sit next to Hermoine in class. With your skirt short enough to make you question its purpose and your shirt tight and revealing, you now had all the guys paying attention. “What’s this?” Hermoine questioned, obviously referring to your outfit. “This. This is my battle-outfit. I’m conquering the top of the food chain.” You replied with confidence. Hermoine scoffed and raised an eyebrow. “Then why is the top of the food chain looking at you like you're their next meal.”

You quickly glanced around the classroom, getting a little nervous, you softly bit your lip. You want to defend your case to Hermoine, but accidentally drop your quill. As you reach for it, Enzo beats you to it. Handing it to you with a sweet smile, but also giving you a cheeky wink.

Theodore, who sits next to Enzo, shakes his head and huffs. “Don’t fall for it. Pansy’s clearly up to something.” Enzo smiles brightly at his friend. “Oh mate, I’ve already fallen. Badly, madly. And it’s okay, you can leave your fallen brother behind. He’s going to a better place, somewhere between her squishy thighs.” Mattheo who sits behind Theodore speaks up. “Oi, T. slap him for me, will ya?” And before Enzo even realizes what Mattheo said, Theo has already given him a light smack on the back of his head. Blaise bites his lip and comes to Enzo’s aid. “In his defense, look at those legs.” Slurring the last word and leaning closer to Mattheo, his eyes never leaving your body. Mattheo pushes his chair a little and leans back for a better view of what his friend is talking about. Mattheo is definitely seeing something he likes, his eyes scan your body. His tongue gently rolls over his lips and he swallows hard thinking about all the noises you would make if he could have his way with you. “Mister Zabini, mister Riddle, care to explain why you don’t have your books out yet.” Professor McGonnagol asks, looking down upon the boys. “Sorry professor.” Blaise immediately reaches for his book, while Mattheo only looks down at his desk like a pouty 5 year old that just got caught.

After class Theodore lets out a frustrated grown as you walk past them in the hallway. You did nothing aside from sitting there and being pretty, yet you had him fantasizing about things that made him loosen his tie halfway during class. “I should’ve skipped class. I wrote down less than when I’m not in class.” Enzo looked confused at Theo’s statement, questioning his logic. Mattheo was about to say something, but Blaise interrupted him. “That simp! Look at him.” Blaise pointed at Draco shamelessly leaning against a wall trying to casually make conversation with you as Pansy tries not to laugh at Draco’s desperation. “No backbone, those Malfoy’s.” Mattheo scoffs. “Yeaah.” Blaise affirms absentmindedly, staring at you as you smile at Draco. Such a beautiful smile, but I bet that mouth can do more than just smile. Blaise was smirking as his thoughts got less innocent with each passing second. “We should save the poor girl.” Enzo states, pulling Blaise out his trance. “Yeah.” Blaise and Enzo quickly make their way over to you. Making Pansy grin at Mattheo and Theodore. Raising her eyebrows as a way of non-verbally taunting them: are you two really gonna just stand there with your pathetic male pride. “Tell me you have smokes. I need one.” Mattheo sighs in frustration after he finally managed to pull his eyes away from you. Theo nods. “Girls and their games. They’ll be the death of me.” Theo can’t help but take one last look at you.

***

“Pans, I really don’t think this is a good idea. Hermoine’s right I’m attracting the wrong kind of guys.” Pansy eyes roll up in annoyance. That bloody Granger-girl can squeeze the fun out of everything. “You can set them straight. Believe me, if you bat your eyes they will start behaving.” You make a face disagreeing with her. “I’m looking for fun, yeah, but I’m also looking for boyfriend material, they’re not that.” Pansy huffs. “You know nothing.” You frown in confusion. “Just play my game. You’ll get what you want.” Pansy starts walking again, but then turns on her heels looking at you still confused. “You are gonna have to pick one, preferably by tonight. I would hate to see the Slytherin boy band break up, because I really don’t think they can share.” You bite your lip softly and your mind wonders.

If Pansy was really speaking the truth and you could just have your pick. Which one? Him. If he would push you against this cold hallway wall right now you would immediately spread your legs so he could lift you up. Your neck and your jaw would be peppered with his soft kisses. You would wrap your legs around him and he would buck his hips into yours. Your mouth would fall open slightly because of all the sensations building up between your legs. He would mercilessly attack your mouth and his hands would explore every inch of your body. Squeezing your butt, making you instinctively rub your core against his growing bulge. He would cup your breasts, his thumb caressing your nipple through the fabric. “Everything alright?” Luna snaps you out of your wonderful train of thoughts. You look at her sheepishly. “Yeah. I better get going. Class, and stuff.” You push your thighs together, before fully letting go of your daydream. “I have those moments too you know, when I forget about reality.” Luna comforts you as you both walk to class. “Uhu” Is all you manage to say, not really knowing what to think.

If Blaise is you’re guy: part 2

***

“Your party outfit is a shirt?” Hermoine asks, not hiding her judgment. “It’s an oversized shirt, which makes it a dress. It’s fashion, Granger, get over it.” Pansy snaps. “You’re corrupting my friend.” Hermoine hisses at Pansy. “Oh, darling. I’m not corrupting. But some guy might.” Pansy winks, Hermoine’s mouth falls open and you stand there sheepishly looking at your feet. “I’m wearing shorts under this dress. So it’s really not that bad.” You finally manage to say. “Alright, let’s party.” Pansy says and she’s the first to walk through the doors of the room of requirement.

For Mattheo: part 2

For Theodore: part 2

For Lorenzo: part 2

#theodore nott #blaise zabini #mattheo riddle #enzo berkshire #theodore nott imagine #blaise zabini imagine #mattheo riddle imagine #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin #papercorgiworldwritings

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peachypinkygloss · 8 months

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dior girl ✰ park jimin

Park Jimin is one of a kind. When he wants something, he gets it, no matter how hard it can be. He's not scared to get his hands dirty. If he had any morals, maybe he'd consider his obsession with you getting out of hands. But this man has absolutely no morals.

୨୧ pairing: designer!jimin x model/fem!reader

୨୧ genre: strangers to lovers, age gap (21 & 38), smut, slight angst

୨୧ word count: 8.1k

୨୧ warnings: unrealistic depiction of the fashion industry, alcohol consumption & mention of drugs use, manipulation & corruption, jimin isn't a good person (especially not to oc lol <3), violent sexual thoughts, jimin's a sadist (my fav headcannon :D), heavy dom/sub dynamics, hard dom!jimin, unprotected vaginal & anal sex, anal play (use of a buttplug), my new headcannon: jimin likes giving anal, dacryphilia, praising & degradation, oral sex (m), face fucking, aftercare ig because yes jimin's a sadist but he still has a heart.

a.n.: yup so idk if you guys were expecting that... but i did say none of the characters were ethical lmfao so 🤷🏻‍♀️ i really, really hope you like the first part, i've worked hard on it even though it's not super long. so please, reblog and tell me what you thought about it! <3 as always, don't like, don't read.

[dior girl moodboard] ["older" masterlist]

His studio is his sanctuary. It's the only place in the world he can spend hours in without even noticing the moon setting or the sun rising. In his studio it feels like the time doesn't exist or that it's just a futile detail that doesn't have much importance.

When he's creating a piece, nothing around him matters. The only things he's willing to give attention to are the placements of the needles on the fabric, the little lines that form the pattern of the clothing, and the way his scissors cut through the satin material of the dress he's designing.

He's thought about this design for so long and he finally got the opportunity to make it. He's thought about the colours of the dress and also of the seam, about the length of the hem and the sleeves, how deep the neckline should be and if lace would be suitable.

He doesn't even recall how many sketches he's made of the dress. At some point it was consuming his entire mind, this dress the only design he could draw and think of.

Now that he's finally creating it, he has the feeling that it's going to be the best piece he's ever made. He already sees everyone talking about it, saying how much of a genius Park Jimin is. It's going to be the design of the year — of the century.

He still misses something, though, and it might be the most important part of the design. He needs a model, the perfect body to wear his piece and present it to the fashion world.

It can't be anybody, it must be someone who's confident, who always has their head up and who radiates elegance and sports a unique beauty.

Jimin still hasn't found this person. He constantly searches for them, but never finds them or when he thinks that he has, he discovers flaws he cannot unseen.

All the Dior models are great, but not enough. They don't spark anything in Jimin when he watches them strode down the catwalk. He's checked upon the apprentices and the newer models the company has hired, but he saw no one extraordinary.

Until today.

He hears steps against the wooden floor of his studio, entering the place without knocking. "Ah, there he is!" A manly voice exclaims, Jimin immediately recognizes it as his friend's, Sungwoon. "I have someone to introduce you."

Jimin raises his gaze up from his working table and looks at Sungwoon who's accompanied by a beautiful, young woman. He's then suddenly interested, contrary to usual where he doesn't really care about the many girls Sungwoon brings, claiming each one as the new phenomenon of the fashion industry.

When Jimin turns around, he eyes you up and down, barely glimpsing in Sungwoon's way. It's all it takes, one simple glance and he knows you're the one he needs — the one he wants and has to ruin.

Sungwoon introduces you both and when your name is pronounced by the man, sounding so charming and delicate, he's certain you're the model he had been waiting for since a long time.

You seem shy, arms locked behind your back, but you stand up straight and have a polite smile drawn on your face.

"I thought maybe you'd like to get to know each other, right?" Sungwoon raises his eyebrows in Jimin's direction. "Everyone's fond of her," he smiles and pats your back, encouraging you to speak up.

"Thanks," you smile back at Sungwoon before glancing back at Jimin who still hasn't looked away from you. "I've been a big fan of your work since I was a little kid, Mr. Park. You've inspired me to become a model."

The way you say his name has his cock twitching in his pants, filthy thoughts of him spanking your butt while you cry his name invading his mind.

He can sense your vulnerability, your willingness to submit. Who would he be to deny you that? Him, who is so eager to dominate the ones he's attracted to, to break but also repair them.

He knows it when someone's fragile, hiding their weaknesses under fake confidence. He doesn't know you, but he recognizes the pattern almost instantly. What can be broken can also be repaired and you're asking him to break you.

"I'm glad to hear that," Jimin says politely, a slight smile tugging on his lips. He's not the type to smile — stretch the corner of his mouth upward to imitate the person in front of him, he finds it useless. But for you, he'll do it, just so you trust him because you're so desperate to give yourself to the opposite sex.

"Park, you were wondering who'd be part of the fall show this year," Sungwoon begins, looking at you like you're the most irradiant ruby in the world. "Well, you have her in front of you." You giggle softly at the man's words, nodding your head at him and then looking at Jimin as if waiting for some praises.

Jimin faintly smiles, seeing your eyes glimmering and he curses himself for not finding you first. You'd have been his by now, his to praise, to kiss, to fuck, to destroy. But he swears, if he happens to break you, he'll gratefully keep you safe close to him.

๑♡՞

T H E N

"Careful," Jimin softly says as he catches you up from falling on the floor. You let out a high pitched laugh, as if all of this is a big joke, and push him back with a hand on his chest.

"I'm fine," you answer, shrugging him off with a flip of your hand. You stagger from left to right, leaning against the wall when you almost fall a second time. You laugh it off again, halting your steps.

Jimin looks at you with a cringe expression, eyeing the people behind, sporting worried looks on their faces.

You all went out after the show; models, designers, directors, stylists... everyone. It wasn't your plan to get drunk, Jimin knows that because you're not supposed to drink alcohol since you're on a very strict diet. A glass from time to time isn't so bad, but your consumption clearly surpassed just one glass tonight.

It's not really your fault, though. Technically yes, since you're the one who swallowed all of the glasses of wine, but you had a little help.

A little help from Jimin himself.

When you weren't looking, he poured more alcohol in your glass and to his satisfaction you've noticed nothing and gulped everything. Sure, you got a bit suspicious, wondering how you had only drank so little when you remembered swallowing more than that.

But Jimin assured you it was only your first glass, so you drank, and drank, and drank... Until you were more than tipsy.

You've received nasty looks from your colleagues, especially the other models who weren't drinking a single drop of wine, and yet, still weren't awarded with the status of the 'face of Dior'. How ironic that the drunkest girl in the room was the face of Dior and the little protégée of Mr. Park.

Years and years of training, countless sleepless nights, meals that are as nutritious as birds seed... All of the efforts in the world to have your biggest dream stolen by a model who is in the industry for less than six months.

Their rage is understandable, but Jimin couldn't care less. In fact, everything is going as planned and he can't fuck things up now. No, because if he does, all of the things he has done until now will be completely irrelevant.

"I'll... I'll bring her to our room, you can go out without us," Jimin announces, watching you sit down on the floor in the middle of the corridor.

"Will she be okay?" A stylist asks.

"Of course. I'll take care of her."

He waits for everyone to be gone before he gets you up from the floor and leads you both to your hotel room. When you're in the room, he sits you down on the bed.

You don't say anything as he takes off his jacket and loosens his tie. He crouches down in front of you to remove your heels and he does the same with his shoes, leaving them at the entry.

When he comes back, he sees you quietly crying, the features of your face contorting into a sad expression. You've slightly sobered up, harshly coming back to reality, realizing how much you've embarrassed yourself tonight.

"What did I do?" You ask, looking up at him with teary eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

Jimin sits down beside you, lifting your head up with his index under your chin and his thumb over it. "There's nothing that can't be repaired," he states in a soft voice, so low it sounds like a sweet whisper — a secret, a confession only you can hear. "Right?"

You sniff, wiping your tears away. You nod your head in agreement, slightly reassured, hoping Jimin will fix your mistakes. Your foolish mistakes, done by the carefree of a twenty-one year old.

"Shh, baby, shh," he softly murmurs, cradling your head in his hands and gently laying your face against his chest. You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tighter and tighter til suffocation.

He strokes your hair delicately, placing a sweet and warm kiss on the top of your head.

Someone as vulnerable as you contains a lot of emotions. He has to deal with them, which doesn't bother him at all. He wants you the way you are; sad and pitiful.

"Everything's going to be fine," he promises, but it's not entirely the truth. Not everything will be fine, though it'll be in the end, he thinks — he hopes.

You eventually pull away from his embrace, just enough to look at him. It seems like you're searching for something or maybe waiting for something, your eyes desperately staring at Jimin as if his simple presence will make all of your problems fly away.

You throw yourself at him and kiss him on the lips, fingers pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He reciprocates it, knowing you like your kisses sloppy and messy, wanting Jimin everywhere on you to remind you that he's always there.

You bring him closer, crumpling the material of his white shirt between your fists, moaning and whining as your teeth clash together at how roughly you kiss each other.

Jimin breaks your exchange first, both catching your breaths. His eyes observe you quietly as you look at him like you're still waiting for something.

"Did you do what I told you to?" He questions you, referring to your conversation of a few days when you came to his studio to try on his dress.

You were a bit stressed out, putting on the clothing like you were scared you'd rip it. He still remembers the way the satin was sliding up your body, hugging your waist and ass perfectly. He was baffled at how incredibly well it suited you as if he had made it exactly for you.

And maybe it was made for you, after all.

Because when he saw his creation on you, he knew you had to wear it for the runway. It has to be you, he'll accept no one else.

Jimin will make you walk the runway wearing his dress — the last time you'll ever step on the catwalk. After that, he'll keep you away from the rest of the world. He'll refuse anyone to see you because you're going to be his.

His forever.

"Yes," you nod your head, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Tell me what you did," Jimin softly demands, holding your chin in his hand, mouths inches away from each other.

You're too shy to say it out loud and that's why he wants you to tell him. Also to be sure you did everything correctly, but mainly because he wants to see you embarrassed.

"I prepared myself for you..." You begin, holding eye contact even though you feel your face heating up just thinking about all the things you've done per his request. "I... I used lube both on me and... the toy," you continue in a shy tone, so low Jimin wouldn't hear you if he wasn't so close.

"Where on you, sweetheart?" He interrupts, wanting each detail, each little thing you normally wouldn't have done if it wasn't for him. And all while thinking of him.

You swallow, "On my ass, Jimin," you answer in a whisper. "I stretched it out for you, using the toy like you told me," you finally admit.

"Good girl," Jimin purrs. "Let me see it then."

You proceed to strip off of your dress, now used to be nude in front of him, and slide your panties down your thighs, discarding them away on the floor.

You get back up on the mattress and position yourself on all fours close to the edge of the bed. Jimin stands up and goes behind you to have a closer look at your ass.

His veiny hands pull your cheeks apart, revealing your rim to his insatiable, sadistic eyes. You glance over your shoulder, curious of what he has in mind and what he has prepared for you.

You softly gasp when he spits and lets the globe of spit drip down between your asscheeks, rolling over your puckered hole. You clench around nothing, relieved to have his attention, to finally feel his hands on you instead of the usual touch of yours.

He sees that your ass is a bit looser than the last time he saw it, but it still clearly needs more preparation to welcome his girthy cock — though it's not like he cares that much if you're prepped enough or not.

He passes his thumb over your tight muscle, circling it and smearing his saliva over it. He wants to fuck it so bad, destroy it and do unbelievably violent things to you. Should he tonight? Should he show you his dark and evil side?

He's choked you before — smacked your ass hard til you felt your skin stings, overstimulated you to the point your orgasms were just spasms passing through your body, fucked your throat while you were drooling all over yourself, and tied your legs and wrists together to restrict your movements.

So fucking your ass can't be that bad, but the thing is Jimin wants it to be bad. He then wonders what would happen if the line is ever crossed. Would you endure it, would you defend yourself? Would you shut the fuck up and take it like you're asked to?

But you trust him so much — with all your pathetic being — and he thinks you'd let him cross any lines he desires to. He probably already has crossed multiple lines, and being the poor, sad girl that you are, you said nothing.

You truly are extraordinary.

He gives a slight slap to one of your asscheeks, groping both of them after, feeling how soft and tender your flesh is. "You did good, sweetheart," he comments in a honeyed voice that has you mewling, sounding so smooth and sweet. "How about we play with it a little?"

He lifts up a brow at you and you nod sheepishly, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. "Yes..."

"Great," he says in a low tone, running his hands one last time over your ass before going to take something from his suitcase.

"What is it?" You question, your curious eyes landing on the small object he's holding.

Jimin brings the object to you, something made of metal, the end having the shape of a cone and a pink gem placed on the top. "A gift for my princess," he replies, opening the bottle of lube he brought as well.

He applies some lube around your tight hole and on the butt plug, and carefully pushes the head of the toy in your ass. You gasp softly, feeling it slowly stretch you out, sinking in gradually as Jimin holds your cheeks apart.

"Mmh, feels good, Sir," you moan, arching your back and pushing your butt closer to Jimin.

When the plug is all the way in, the pink gem peeking out between your two globes of flesh, he smacks your other cheek, making it jiggle from the harsh hit.

"Is that so, dirty girl?" He wonders, gripping your hips and colliding his hips with your butt, sensing his big bulge pulsing under his pants. "You like it when your little ass gets stretched out?"

"I like everything you do to me," you say with a content sigh, pussy clenching around nothing as your ass gets used to the small butt plug.

Jimin genuinely thinks he can't find better than you. You were so shy in the beginning, looking like a lost puppy wherever you went. You just needed someone bigger and older to show you the way — though you were too dumb, and still are, to realize he was leading you to the wrong path.

It's not like you seem to mind, anyway.

After all, you both got what you wanted; you, male attention, someone to rely on and be protected by, and him, a woman to break and keep with him forever.

He lets go of your hips to unbuckle his belt, pulling the leather material out of the gold loop with the luxury Dior logo on it. He lets the two ends of the belt hang off, not bothering to remove it completely, and tucks the fly of his pants down.

He finally frees his cock from the confines of his boxers, springing up and slapping against his stomach, the bit of pre-cum escaping from his tip dampening his shirt.

"You're so good to me, princess," he praises as he wraps a hand around the base of his engorged cock, aching and begging to be nestled in your cute little pussy.

His head pushes at your entrance, never fully entering, only teasing your hole and stimulating all of your sensitive nerves. He watches how his cock stretches your cunt, your walls expending to receive his bulbous tip and then closing down when he pulls out.

"Sir, please, want more," you beg him, pushing your ass on him to have his dick back in you. You let out a little whimper when Jimin holds your hips in place, stopping you from wiggling your butt side to side against his thick cock.

He hums and slaps your ass harshly, your skin stinging after. "Want my cock in your needy little pussy, baby? Is that what you're crying for?" He asks, teasing even more by swiping the head of his penis between your pussy lips, a string of your arousal sticking to his angry tip.

"Yes," you say back quickly and desperately, arching your back, literally presenting yourself to Jimin. "Been so good, don't I deserve it, Sir?" You softly murmur, still looking over your shoulder to see his gaze fixated on your quivering pussy, cock head sliding up and down over your sex.

"You do..." He responds distractedly, licking his plump lips, his fingers touching the pink gem peeking out from your ass. You're always so good and obedient for him, he even wonders if you ever did something that genuinely pissed him off before.

When he really sinks in, his head passing the barrier of your sweet pussy, he groans deeply, feeling your walls deliciously enveloping his hard cock tightly.

You moan in unison as he bottoms out in you, his balls touching your wet and warm pussy. He bends his back over yours, running his hand up your spine, feeling all the little bumps of it until he reaches your head and shoves it against the mattress.

You whine when he starts pounding into you, his girth stretching you out so well, leaving you panting and moaning loudly. His other hand holds your hip against his dick, fingers digging into your skin, leaving permanent marks on your body — as well as on your mind and your soul.

He already sets a hard and rapid pace — fucking is never soft or loving with Jimin, it's violent, long, and agonizing. It's a way to be himself, the real and dark version of himself he hides in public and releases when he gets intimate with you.

You surprisingly got accustomed to it, embracing it as if it was your destiny, the reason for your existence; to be his personal slut, the little toy he likes to play rough with. And you've accepted it, like you had no other choice but to be fucked into oblivion by Jimin whenever he feels like it.

"You like that, baby? Huh?" He growls, as if you're the disgusting one for liking the way he treats you, ravished and delighted to have his girthy cock sliding against your velvety walls. "You like it when I fuck you hard like this?" He repeats and grips your hair, pushing your head against the bed covers with more strength.

You babble out something, voice caught in your throat, too out of breath to formulate a simple sentence. You then only nod, your cheek squished against the mattress, Jimin's hand still pushing down on your head.

His mouth hangs open to let out heavy breaths and his eyes are focused on your face, watching the little translucent pearls fall on your face and on the covers. Your pussy swallows all of his girth, clenching so tightly it has him groaning and saying profanities under his breath.

It's sick how it makes his cock so fucking hard, leaking so much pre-cum in you and twitching avidly by seeing you struggle to breathe. You crumple the bed sheets between your little fists, doing everything in your power to keep your ass up for Jimin and not slump down on the bed from the hard thrusts he's inflicting on you.

He snaps his hips against your ass and the entirety of his length is covered in your wetness, a white ring made of your cream circling the base of his cock.

His hand holding your head descends to your neck, enclosing it with his fingers, the coldness of his silver rings contrasting with the hotness of your sweaty skin. He squeezes a little, just a bit so you know who's in control, so you never forget Jimin controls you — that he controls your life and thoughts.

With a grip on your hair, he brings your torso up, arched back against his chest. The material of his shirt sticks to your skin, coated in a thin layer of sweat. He continues to pound into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy rapidly, as he holds you by the throat, lewdly licking a long stripe along the side of your face.

You shudder in desire, hair standing up on your delicate arms. "You're my little whore, aren't you, baby?" His mouth is right beside your ear as he whispers dirty things to you, his lips touching your hair, damp at the nape of your neck. "So fucking compliant... You want to please me so bad like the slut that you are," he mouths the words against your hair, cock pulsing hard in your cunt.

His free hand that doesn't have a hold around your throat slides down your body, passing over your belly and reaching your puffy clit. The sharp zipper of his pants graces the flesh just under your ass, irritating your skin and making it itchy.

You clench around him when his digits find your sensitive bud, circling it sensually and slowly, the complete opposite of his hip thrusts.

"Yes, want to please you, Jimin," you gasp, bucking your hips at the feeling of his rough fingertips on your pussy. He grunts when you address him by his name, loving how it sounds on your tongue, so sweet and timid.

He remembers the first time you moaned his name; you were sprawled across his expensive leather couch, blindfolded and hands attached together with his black tie. Intense for your first time with him, but it was also the last time he's ever been that gentle with you.

It was when his cold fingertips graced the skin of your stomach that you let out a squeak followed by his name, said in the quietest moan. He had then stopped his movements and looked at your face, an expression of distress painted over your features.

He had realized how frail and weak you actually were, needing your most important sense to be at ease. That's why he had blindfolded you, to show you how dependent you are of him, how impossible it is for you to live without him to guide you.

He pushes your jaw to the side so your lips can meet his in a feverish kiss, wet tongues mingling together, drool dripping down from the corners of your mouth. He continues to ram his cock in your now soppy and messy pussy, the sound of skin against skin resonating in the hotel room.

He traps your bottom lip between his teeth, making you whimper and close your walls around his girth once again. Your little hands grip the material of his trousers, keeping him close and holding on to something because the hard cadence of his hip thrusts push you forward, breasts bouncing up on your chest.

"Fuck," he curses and he suddenly stops, steadying his hips against your butt. You let out a whiny moan as Jimin lets go of your face and hips.

You're sad to have your pleasure ripped away from you so hastily, but you don't have the time to complain, Jimin slipping out of your cunt and pushing you down violently on the mattress.

You turn around on your back to see him unbuttoning his dress shirt and throwing it on the floor, revealing to you his beautiful chest and defined abs. He gets rid of his pants and socks after, finally removing his boxers, the only things remaining on him being his rings and the watch crowning his right wrist.

His cock glistens in your juices, more pre-cum leaking from his swollen tip and twitching avidly against his stomach. Even though him fucking you while being all dressed and you completely bare is a way to humiliate and degrade you, he also likes to be naked sometimes.

He loves skin to skin contact, how your bodies stick together because of all the sweat coating you. It's addicting, it's rougher and it creates more friction — more pain.

He doesn't mind being naked too because he knows how to dominate you either way. He doesn't find it embarrassing, on the contrary, it makes him scarier and hungrier. While you shiver without your clothes on, curled up on yourself, Jimin is imposing, his cock thick and girthy enough to split you in half.

He crawls back to you, hovering over you like a predator had caught his prey, boring his eyes into yours. You look at him in awe, always waiting patiently. You feel his cock against your thigh, thick and veiny, your hole pathetically quivering — missing his size stretching out your pussy.

He sneaks a hand between your legs and reaches the little pink gem, ready to get it out. "Take a deep breath sweetheart," Jimin instructs and you inhale deeply.

He doesn't waste a second, pulling out the butt plug out of your ass. You scrunch your eyes shut at the pain, exhaling when it's done. He carefully sets it on the nightstand, coming back to you after.

He bends your legs over your stomach and looks at your ass, just begging him to fuck it, shining with lube and arousal that leaks from your pussy. His erect cock is just so close to it and Jimin could slide right in with one movement of his hips.

He lets go of one of your legs to grip his engorged erection, a little gasp escaping your lips when he presses the head of his cock at your tight hole, threatening to sink in.

"Sir," you sigh, not sure if you're ready for that. It always burns no matter how good you prepped before and he knows that. That's why he's so tempted, that he's staring so obsessively at your rim.

Will it hurt you? Will you grip his biceps in an attempt to dissuade him? He wants to see those tears falling from your eyes again, he wants to lick them and tastes your pain. He feels more blood rush to his penis at the mere thought of hurting you.

Give him all of your pain, he'll fucking take it whole and cherish it. He wants it — he needs it. Accuse him for having a sick and twisted mind, accuse him for everything you've ever been hurt by because he'll gladly take the blame.

"I know you can take it," he says in a low tone, glancing up at your face as he applies just a bit more pressure to your ass hole. "Can you, baby?" Jimin asks, waiting for you to admit how much you want it, how badly you want him to destroy you.

"Yes..." You whisper back, a long shiver running up your spine as his eyes pierce through you.

"Yes, what? Tell me, sweetheart," he demands, and it's as if he doesn't care about your response whatsoever because the next thing he does makes you yelp in pain.

His tip has entered you, the burning sensation forcing you to scrunch your eyes shut, your instinct thinking it'll protect you.

"Yes, I- I can..." you stutter and as expected, you dig your nails in the flesh of his biceps — only fair to hurt him in return. "I can take your cock in my ass..."

You take a sharp breath, eyes slowly opening, all watery and painful. Jimin groans at that, stuffing more of himself in your hole. "Good girl," he praises, voice raspy, ending with a deep grunt.

He stretches you out completely, his dick in no comparison to the toys you've used to prepare yourself. You open your mouth as he pushes himself in gradually, tears streaming down your face when you blink.

The tears roll down the side of your face and Jimin can't help but be turned on, leaning in to kiss your face and collect some of your tears, tasting the saltiness of them on his tongue.

"Jimin...!" You look at him with the saddest and most hurtful gaze, tears rolling down your face. "It burns," you add in a quiet voice, now scratching his back, leaving long red trails on his skin.

"I know, baby, I know," he softly murmurs in your ear, a husky moan leaving his mouth when he's completely nestled in you, balls touching your ass. "You're so tight, fuck," he sucks air through his teeth, not moving until he estimates he's waited long enough.

He gives warm and wet kisses to your neck, descending to your collarbones and groping your breasts, slowly starting to move his hips. You lock your legs behind his back, wanting him as close to you as possible despite the pain he's inflicting on you.

He loves knowing it hurts you because it makes it more pleasurable to him somehow. The pain will go away soon anyway, that's why he doesn't bother to stop or slow down. You have to get used to the feeling first.

He wouldn't go too far to hurt you. The choking, the hair pulling, the smacks... He keeps it for the bedroom, but he won't lie that there's a part of him that wants to ruin your life, ruin everything you've accomplished so far just so he can see those sad eyes of yours and hear you ask him for help out of desperation.

It's not even sexual, he just wants to break you, that's all he desires. Though your life is something he wants to destroy, it's more of a way to have you dependant on him after. If your career is no longer successful, your solution is Jimin because he's the only person in your life capable of taking care of you both emotionally and physically.

His teeth chew on the tender skin of your neck while his hand travels all over your body, many veins popping out along his strong arm. The cool sensation of his rings on your stomach makes you shiver, his finger gently circling your clit to make the pain more bearable.

His cock slides in your hole back and forth, your ass slowly but surely taking the size of girth. Many curses leave Jimin's mouth, your ass probably the best he's ever fucked. You feel so good around him, you're tight, but you loosen easily, making it so, so pleasurable for him.

His hand that was roaming over your body comes to close around your throat and he turns his head to your side, lips brushing over your temple. "Yeah, just like that, baby," he mutters under his breath, his nose pressing down on your hair as he murmurs the words to you. "Just like that..."

A choked moan is all you can respond, eyes rolling back in your skull as Jimin splits your ass open, fucking his thick cock into you. His hot breath hits the side of your face, his chest heaving rapidly while you claw at his back, white scratches appearing on his skin.

He sweetly kisses your temple as he pounds into you, not tightening his hand around your throat, just holding you in place — always letting you know that he is always in control.

Your tits slightly bounce up and down on your chest, little whines coming out of you each time Jimin bottoms out. It starts feeling good for you — really good — and you think that this pleasure is totally worth a bit of pain at the beginning.

You grip the hair at the nape of his neck and bring him in for a kiss. He accepts it, kissing you back as if he wants to possess your whole mouth, biting and licking your lips. You moan into his mouth, twisting his hair between your fist and sinking your nails into the flesh of his back.

He backs away from you a little, his plump lips glistening in both of your saliva, and places his two palms on your boobs. He feels your perky nipples under his hands, just loving how plushy your breasts are, fitting perfectly in his palms.

He keeps thrusting in you as he gropes your tits and you bring your hands over his, looking into each other's eyes. He lowly groans, holding eye-contact with you.

You feel his veins under your palms, your pussy clenching around nothing but air while you run your hands all over his arms. You enjoy the sensations of his pulsing veins under your small fingers as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, staring into Jimin's dark eyes.

"Jimin..." You moan his name, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of his hard cock entering and exiting your tight hole. Jimin takes the opportunity to smooch your neck again as you expose it to him, his full lips delicately pressing down on your throat. "I love it," you sigh pleasantly.

He hums, the sound coming deep from his throat. He wants to hurt you, yes, but he likes it even more when you love the pain. He just knew you were exactly like him when he first saw you. He had the feeling that you needed someone like him, someone that'd push you to your limits and make you discover a new type of pleasure.

And he was right because there's not one time where you told him to stop.

"My dirty girl," he purrs in response, bringing his lips up to your jaw. He slowly rolls your nipples between his fingertips, pinching and pulling on them. "You're stupid, but so, so good for me, baby," he groans in your ear, gritting his teeth as he feels his balls tightening.

He slowly halts his hips movements, letting out heavy breaths as he eventually pulls out of you. You gasp when he does so, already missing his cock stretching out your ass.

You're both trying to catch your breaths, Jimin raising himself up from you and getting out of the bed. His erection stands tall against his stomach, bouncing up as he walks to the front of the bed.

You watch him getting away until he orders you to follow him. "Come here," he says softly and you don't make him wait. "On your knees," Jimin commands when you're facing him, sinking down to your knees after.

He places a hand behind your head and the other around the base of his dick, guiding the head of his cock toward your lips as he pushes down on your head.

"Here, baby," he instructs in a low voice. "Take it in your mouth." You part your lips to welcome Jimin's length, his bulbous tip shining in pre-cum and your juices under the light of the hotel room.

He immediately moans when he enters the warmth of your mouth, his heavy cock sliding on your wet tongue. He doesn't let you have much control, pushing his dick in your mouth until your nose touches his pubic hair.

You relax your jaw for Jimin, allowing him to stuff your mouth full of his cock. He looks down at you, watching the way your lips wrap around him tightly, your eyes starting to water. He still holds the back of your head with one hand, guiding you over his stiff erection and you moan obscenely around Jimin, drool dripping down on your chin.

He begins to fuck your mouth, forcing you to take the whole thing each time he bottoms out. He moves his hips back and forth, obsessed with the way his girth appears and reappears between your lips as he uses your mouth as he pleases.

"Shit," he hisses when you hollow your cheeks, making it more pleasurable for him. "You're a fucking cockslut, aren't you, baby?" He says breathily, his eyes not once leaving his cock penetrating your mouth over and over again.

You whine around him, surely agreeing with what he said. It sends deliciously vibrations through his entire body, the sounds of your moans and hearing you gag around him is so arousing to him. He wants to hear more so he literally uses your mouth like a toy, snapping his hips against you, his balls slapping your chin.

He lets out a deep moan, your cheeks now damp and eyelashes all wet because of your tears, eyes stinging as Jimin fucks your throat like a mad man.

"Stroke your clit," he manages to say between two heavy breaths. "You can get off by yourself, right? I know you're soaking wet just by letting me use that pretty mouth of yours," he mocks you, but he knows he's right. Whatever he does, your cunt is always dripping wet.

You whimper again, doing what he told you to and sneaking a hand between your thighs to play with your pussy. You part your legs wider as you circle your clit with your finger, Jimin's hooded eyes lazily watching you playing with yourself.

Your right hand is laying on his thigh while the other is operating between your legs, pleasuring yourself to the sounds of Jimin's moans and the feeling of his stiff cock weighing down on your tongue.

You do your best to breathe through your nose, swallowing around his length and flattening your tongue underneath him. Your juices drip down your inner thighs, your finger flickering over your sensitive bud smoothly because of your arousal.

The whole room is smelling like sex, an odour that Jimin can't ignore, loving it so much. Your lips glide so easily over his hard cock, completely covered in your spit and still some of your wetness, tasting yourself on him.

"Ah, fuck," he curses, his head rolling back on his shoulders, eyes still strained down on you. He feels the familiar burning sensation at the pit of his stomach, indicating he's really close to his orgasm. He stops thrusting in you. "Go on the bed, baby."

You're taken aback, but you follow his order, pulling him out of your mouth and laying your back down on the mattress close to the edge. You beautifully moan when Jimin penetrates your pussy a second time, bending your legs over your stomach.

"Oh, god," you cry softly, being pounded onto the bed by him right away, tits moving up and down on your chest.

His hands are positioned on each side of your shoulders, snapping his hips against yours so harshly you feel your skin stinging. You keep doing circle motions on your clit, now faster and impatient to reach your high.

You let out a high-pitched moan when Jimin suddenly steadies his hips over yours, dropping down to his elbows as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Holy fuck," he grunts, gripping the bed sheets tightly in fists beside your head as his cock twitches in your pussy.

"Yes, yes," you quietly exclaim, your clitoral orgasm passing through you, making you arch your back and buck your hips.

Your hole clenches repeatedly around him and he finally comes undone into you, shooting long, thick ropes of cum deep into you. He empties himself in your wet cunt, cumming just after you.

When he slips out of you, more spurts out of his tip, landing on your pussy, covering it in his creamy cum. You moan at the warm sensation, always loving how it feels both in and on you. Some of his seeds dribble out of you, dripping down to your ass.

He stays above you for some time, catching his breath and looking at the mess he made on you. He stares up at your face, seeing how fucked up you look, hair in a nest and eyes reddened.

Later, Jimin is in the shower, washing his hair and his body, passing a soft cloth soaked in soap over his chest. He lets the water fall over his head, wetting his black locks. He stays maybe a bit longer than normally, staring at the tiled wall.

He thinks about you, about all the things he's planned. He revised everything in his head, imagining you walk on the podium wearing his design, people looking at his piece with admiration in their eyes.

He thinks about all of that that will go down for you after the show, getting fired, losing your career and your fans. Many articles talking about your excessive use of alcohol and drugs, saying how tired and sad you look beside Jimin.

You won't last long, you're too weak anyway. A downfall like this is unconquerable, nobody recovers from that, and surely not a model who will be thrown out of the industry as soon as you turn twenty-five.

Jimin knows the industry, he's been in it for years now. He's aware of how cruel it is, how difficult and harsh it can be on fragile little girls like you.

But that's why he's here, to take care of you once nobody will want you anymore. That's the goal, after all; you to be finally his — solely and completely his.

"Jimin?"

Your voice reaches him, turning his head in your direction, seeing you hesitantly entering the shower with him. He opens his arms, inviting you to come closer and you do, hugging him and laying your head down on his wet chest.

"I love you, sweetheart," he softly murmurs against your hair. "I'll never leave you, you know that, right?"

You nod your head, looking up at him and meeting his gaze. "I love you, too."

๑♡՞

A F T E R

The runway went incredibly well. Celebrities and journalists were all gathered for the fall show, totally amazed by every design and the models that were wearing them.

But there was one specific piece that everyone was willing to say was the best.

Jimin was satisfied to see that his name stood out among everyone else's, being called more times than Dior itself. He predicted it; it was the creation that every guest remembered, the dress that the fans were only talking about.

He'd take all the credit, he was the one who imagined it and then sewed it after all, but he has to admit that you had contributed to the fame a lot.

Being the beloved face of Dior only made people talk more about it and that was what Jimin needed.

But everything has an end, doesn't it?

When Jimin comes back to his apartment, the place is silent except for the TV playing, as he thought it would be. You're looking through the window, watching the city living at night while it's raining. You're sitting on the sofa, not even acknowledging his presence as he enters, getting rid of his shoes.

You're not much of a talker since you've been fired from Dior a few days ago just after the fall show. He understands your wish of remaining silent, needing a bit of space to process everything that has happened the past weeks in your small head.

It was going to happen soon enough anyway. You've been to your photoshoots completely drunk, sometimes just going in with a hangover, but of course it didn't help your case at all.

Jimin was guilty for letting you drink alcohol so soon in the morning. No need to deny it, he was even the one for dropping you off at work like that. Well, he had to do it if he wanted people to notice how far you've fallen.

He doesn't feel bad, though. Your career wasn't going to last with Jimin's sabotage or not. He did you a favour, you should be thankful.

You can't handle being a model. If you could, none of that would have happened. You wouldn't have gained weight, you would have been suspicious of the amount of calories Jimin was feeding you. The bottle of wine wouldn't have been so tempting and smoking weed wouldn't have ever occurred to you as a good idea.

Some people can, others can't and you're one of them. You shouldn't be ashamed of it, sometimes things just don't work out like we would have wanted them to.

"Did you see the article they wrote about me?" You ask, already knowing he's walking up to you without looking. "You surely did, I bet that's all they're talking about..."

He sits down beside you and you eventually turn around, facing him. You care so much about what others think of you. It must be so tiring having such a low self-esteem. He can only imagine it; seeing you look through the window like a sad puppy, your life finally making sense when Jimin comes home.

"I did, but nothing of that matters to me," he answers, the most honest he's ever been. And even if he had to lie, it's not like you wouldn't have believed him. You always trust whatever he says.

You don't reply, your head still filled with many thoughts.

"Hey, come here," he softly tells you, patting his thigh. You straddle his lap, setting your hands on his shoulders. He cups your chin, forcing you to look at him as you keep avoiding his gaze. "Whatever they say, whatever their name is, nothing will ever be more important than you."

Because who is he if he lets some article affect the way he sees you? He's known you since the beginning of your career and he stayed til the end of it.

He knows you better than everyone else. He was with you during your highs and lows and he'll still be there for the next ones. There's nothing in the world that could make him leave you. After everything he's done to have you, there's no way he'll go away.

How cowardly of him if he does. He can't leave when he's promised he'd heal you — close all of your past wounds and create other ones.

He may be selfish, but there's one thing that he isn't and it's a fucking liar. He sticks to his words, and when he says he'll never leave you, that means he'll never, never abandon you — he'll never leave your side, not even once. He can't risk it.

๑♡՞

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