#door entry device | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smuttysabina · 5 months

Text

"I am" a Bitch

(Rei x Male Reader, 3.3k Words) Tags: Pretty Little Risky Baddie, What A Brat, Wow She Is So Spoiled, I Sure Hope She Doesn't Get Her Butt Stretched Out, Anal Sex, Brat Taming, Lots Of Complaining, Rough Sex, Too Much Teasing, Chaebol Obliteration

Rei is a spoiled brat. Like most of IVE, she had been pampered until her pretentiousness had swollen to absurd heights; her every whim was to be fulfilled without worry of the consequences. She fully expected that her demands would be followed, especially those pertaining to the bedroom. Though Rei was not the worst of the bunch, her sexual appetites were still incredibly skewed in her favor; the pleasure of her partner was very much so beneath her notice. So she was rather unforgiving when her "lover" failed to satisfy her obnoxious orders, but not in an enjoyable way. Perhaps you should have known better, but truly, who could blame you for dumping the fattest load of your life balls-deep inside of Rae's precious asshole?

You had mostly known what you were getting into when you applied to work for IVE, every Kpop group had its own distinct quirks regarding the hired help. Itzy were renowned for their rapacity when dealing with the "interns", and their older sisters of Twice were famous for their fetishistic forced-breeding schedules. Le Sserafim were a popular choice, mostly due to their extremely laid-back and open attitude towards sex. Positions at Blackpink were the most sought after of course, though they remained permanently open, their turnover rate was less than a week. And IVE... well IVE were notorious for treating their employees like utter garbage. Which was hardly unusual if truth be told, except for the fact that this mindset extended to include most of the staff, not just the sex pets. It was by unwritten agreement amongst idols that the more integral staff members were to be left unravished; after all, it is difficult for a music company to function when their song writers are too busy pumping the idols full of cum all day to write anything. Most importantly however, the cleaning staff were to be left entirely unmolested; if not for those brave souls, the number of injuries caused by slipping in puddles of sex-fluids would skyrocket. Even that insatiable goddess Jennie, who would fuck almost anything with a pulse, would greet the janitors with a bemused smile before continuing to drain whatever meat-dildo she was currently sending to heaven.

Unfortunately, IVE had no such distinctions; if Gaeul wanted to have the producers lick her pussy all day, then that's what they did. It was a dark miracle that the group managed to continue putting out comebacks, let alone the sort that would be astoundingly popular. So to say that the atmosphere at the IVE mansion was a bit stressful would be an understatement. But all of that negativity was on the back of your mind when you showed up for orientation at the mansion; your adoration for IVE drowning out any concerns you may have felt reading up about them. Led through a tastelessly expensive entry hall, you and many other new hires were ushered into a drab side-room for your training. After only a perfunctory introduction though, you were seamlessly sorted into being an assistant for one of the girls; and sent on your way. You are directed to a large, stately bedroom, its footprint greater than most people's entire homes, its door embossed with its owner's name. The debris of an artist occupies an entire corner of the vast room, painting materials stashed haphazardly alongside expensive electronic drawing devices. The bathroom fills the rest of that half of the room, an opaque wall covering what looks to be a standing shower as well as a sizable hot tub. The sleeping area is conjoined with the living area, cluttered with clothes, books, and entertainment devices; with an enormous television planted in front of a deep couch. The bed is sturdy, dowered with an expensive mattress and covered with an eclectic collection of blankets; and laying upon it is the owner of this gilded cage: Rei.

The idol rests upon her stomach, delicate feet kicking in the air above her head, perusing her phone with every appearance of absolute boredom. She gives you unhappy glare as you approach, her heavily-lidded eyes showing you nothing but contempt as she takes in the details. Rei lets out a petulant sigh, "So you're my new assistant huh, why do I never get the cute ones? Whatever, drop your pants, let's see what we're working with here." You hesitate at this bizarre and sudden demand, only complying after she irritable motions for you to proceed, "Hmmph, I guess you'll do, at least you don't have a needle dick. Please tell me you aren't one of those premature guys, I swear most boys have zero endurance. What? Put that thing away, I'm tired of looking at it already!" Blushing furiously from Rei's barbs, you haul your pants back up and wait for further instructions. After several minutes of pointedly ignoring you, she finally deigns to glance back up in exasperation, "Well don't just stand there idiot, do something useful like... cleaning or something? This place is a mess!" Which, to be fair, it absolutely was. Clothes were strewn about haphazardly, towers of empty food cartons were everywhere, all manner of trash was scattered about, and sticky stains on the carpet were more common than clean portions.

So you get to work, while Rei lounges about on her bed, yelling dubious advice and shrill instructions at you while you labor. Her phone either blares annoying videos, except when she is video-chatting with her fellow idols; in which case she yammers away just as loudly as the bitches getting railed in the call. And of course, she masturbates constantly, her fingers squelching away beneath her sweatpants as she watches her friends engaging in all sorts of sexual activities. That or porn; and if you are honest with yourself it's difficult to tell the difference between the two. Not that Rei takes kindly to be watched during her "Private Time", nor the fact that the sight and scent of her pleasuring herself has an arousing effect on your own genitals, "You fucking pervert, stop watching me! Ugh what kind of assistant are you? And are you getting hard again? Stop that! I didn't say you could get horny, so stop looking and keep cleaning!" An attitude which was annoying in the extreme, especially since it was a touch difficult to bend over with a hardon bulging out of your pants. Your irritation only grows as Rei continues to rain abuse on you for doing what you're told, particularly when she went into hysterics when you got around to picking up and sorting the massive pile of underwear heaped against a dresser. You are starting to see why IVE had be having trouble retaining their staff...

After several grueling hours of labor, you finally finished restoring order to at least one portion of Rei's expansive living area; and so lay down to take a break on a couch. Not five minutes had passed before you were being poked awake by Rei, scowling down at you with her hands on her hips. Who haughtily announces that she was going to take a bath, and that she required assistance; now. You groan before hauling yourself after the idol to the bathroom section, where you are stunned to find her stripping carelessly in front of you. You stare at Rei in shock, your foul mood entirely dispelled by the magnificent sight before your eyes; she merely sniffs as you gaze at her. Her surprisingly moderate bust perks boldly outward, the soft curve of her hips descending towards a deliciously full ass, her lithe legs supported by her delicate feet. Now this made her earlier abuse almost worthwhile, surely such a goddess could be allowed a few flaws? Surely it was her due to be given such slavish attention, surely you had deserved such ill-treatment for not paying proper homage to Rei? The illusion of divinity is shattered however, when Rei responds to your adoration with scorn, "Ew, could you not look at me like that, it's weird. Also, get naked already, didn't I tell you to listen you moron?"

So you gingerly remove your clothes, wincing as you strain your sore muscles, and by the time you are finished Rei is already standing in the luxurious hot tub. With her hands on her hips, she gives you an exasperated look, and you scramble up into the bath to avoid another irritating tongue-lashing. You sit down with a sigh, decompressing in the soothing warm waters, water-jets massaging your aching back in a most pleasant fashion. Your momentary calm is cracked somewhat when Rei proceeds to plop down into your lap, her ample bottom squishing up against your groin as she reclines against you. You are rendered speechless by her sudden intimacy, and surprisingly, she is just as quiet. Rei seems content to use you as furniture as she relaxes, and in this moment of tranquility you take in your surroundings in more detail. A sprawling plethora of bottles precariously perch on the further edge of the hot tub, while the rim to your right is taken up entirely with sexual accessories. The bathroom area itself was relatively clean, but clutter was gradually overrunning every available surface; most noticeable was the trash can overflowing with condom wrappers, Rei was obviously a healthy girl...

Rei starts slightly as you harden, but otherwise seems content to ignore the fact that your cock is currently digging into her butt. She wriggles a little to reposition, then relaxes once more, until eventually she sighs and stands up out of the water. She glances back at you, "Your size?" Rei asks as she reaches towards the boxes of condoms. Nodding at your answer, she pulls out a string of them and tosses them at you before ordering you to close your eyes as she fiddles with some sort of tube. You hear Rei let out a soft curse, "Ugh, it's so cold..." then water churns and she grumbles at you, "Well, put it on already!" You open your eyes to find her scowling down at you, and you hurriedly hoist our crotch out of the water so you can slip a condom onto it. You reach towards Rei, only for her to slap your hands away, "Hey! No, sit back down! And don't you dare move, I hate it when guys act like they're not just dildos." With that out of the way, and giving you one final glare in warning, she turns around and lowers herself once more onto your crotch. But this time the burning heat of the water is replaced by the much more subdued warmth of Rei's insides, as she slowly slides your length into herself. Her plump ass squirms as she settles into her new perch, and she is soon gently rocking back and forth in your lap while her hands are busy between her thighs. Her pink hair tickles your face as she grinds on your bulging cock, teasing it endlessly as she pleasures herself. Rei's entire weight is pressed onto your cock as she lifts her legs, the roiling water supporting her as she precisely orients her body to force you as deep as possible. Then Rei lets out a sudden squeak, and she quivers against you, her hole clenching tight around your now painfully erect member.

Rei shudders, her asshole palpitating as she relaxes back against your chest, breathing heavily as she eases her weight off of your manhood. After resting against you for about a minute or so, oblivious to your cock as it throbs inside of her, she pushes herself up off of you in a cascade of water. You get a faceful of ass, and as she bends forward her slightly gaping brown anus is revealed, glistening wetly and flushed from use. Rei notices you staring and quickly turns around, covering herself as she does, "What, it's not like I would let you fuck my unused pussy, I'm saving it for my beloved!" You highly doubt that Rei's cunt had gone unstretched during her stint as a trainee, but you are far more focused on the fact that you had not been able to finish. The bratty idol gives you a confused look as she notices your demeanor, "Oh, did you not cum...? Feel free to jack off into the condom or something, just don't make a mess!" Humming cheerfully, she clambers out of the hot tub and is soon ensconced in an oversized fluffy towel; whereupon she putters off towards the living area, dripping water everywhere. Grumbling, and still staggeringly erect, you dry yourself off before following her, finding Rei sprawled on her couch flicking through channels. Not even deigning to glance at you, she reminds you to clean up all the water you got on the floor walking over there. Rolling your eyes you obey, though not without complaining under your breath, by the time you finished up and returned to your spoiled mistress she has already switched to watching porn. Loud moans and squeals blare from the enormous television as some woman is getting absolutely railed on screen. Rei is already masturbating shamelessly upon her discarded towel, her dark nipples starkly erect.

The idol glances over as you approach and nods in satisfaction as she notices that your dick is still hard, she scrambles around so that her plump posterior is pointed right at you, "Grab a condom, but follow my orders exactly, okay? My butt is very delicate." Sheathed once more in latex supplied from an ever-present condom box, you gently grasp her hips, "Okay, so put a lot of lube in, gently, then slowly ease your dick in, got it?" Instructions which you ignore entirely, as you simply shove your cock directly into Rei's vulnerable asshole. Whose back arches up as she shrieks in surprise, wailing as if she had just been poleaxed. The bitch was obviously exaggerating however, your dick had slid smoothly inside of her, only catching a little at the entrance, evidently Rei had squirted so much lube inside of herself earlier that she still had loads of it coating her insides. Not that she sees it that way, "YOU DUMB FUCK! TAKE IT OUT TAKE IT OUT!" she howls, clawing at the couch for support as her legs shudder. But you are done taking orders from this entitled brat, and pull back, dragging a solid inch of her insides along with you, Rei barely has time to gasp out "Oh thank-" before you slam your entire length back into her guts. This time she is only able to let out an outraged gasp, unable to comprehend how a lowly fan like you could possibly disobey a chaebol of IVE.

Of course, most other idols would not have stood for such treatment either, Yeji would have been clawing your back into bloody ribbons, Rose would have been beating you mercilessly, Jihyo would have pinned you down and firmly forced you inside the proper hole, Dami would have had you biting the couch as she pummeled you with a gargantuan strapon. Instead, Rei, scion of a renowned idol training program, promptly bursts into noisy tears. Normally a girl sobbing would have given you pause, and caused you to rush to give her comfort, but this bitch had been abusing you for hours now, and it seemed a bit of an overreaction; so you continue. Rei blubbers as loudly as the girl on screen, bemoaning her fate and tepidly demanding that you listen to her. But by now you were getting into the swing of things, and to be completely honest her asshole was practically sucking you inside after every thrust. Her thick ass-cheeks clap loudly as you slam yourself against them again and again, providing a meaty cushion that was almost begging for a thoroughly rough plowing. So you give it to them, violently pistoning your cock into her guts, causing her to squeak plaintively and writhe in your grasp as you firmly hold her steady. Then Rei starts to shake, her ass shivering in a familiar way, you don't stop moving though, even when she suddenly starts to scream shrilly, spittle flying onto the couch.

Something hot and wet slops onto your balls, sticking tight to it and smearing deep into its folds. Surprised, you pull out, leaving Rei's asshole gaping enough to show pink and sputtering foully, and beneath that, a shaven pussy absolutely slathered with cunt cream, connected her sex to yours with glistening streamers. She whines in embarrassment, looking back at you in disbelief at the mess she had made, her squeezable cheeks flushing bright red. Before Rei could make any excuses however you had crammed your cock back into her sloppy ass, causing her to groan and bite the fabric. A glow with satisfaction with yourself, you fall back into your rough rhythm, plowing away with enough force to make her ass-cheeks jiggle with every thrust. The steady slap of skin fills the room as you relentlessly fuck Rei, drowning out the depravities taking place on the TV, (by this point the woman appeared to be taking four cocks at once). But Rei wasn't an idol for nothing, and even after such ungentle treatment her butt still devoured your manhood voraciously; squeezing it tightly without any sign of tiring. Your tip grows warmer as you continue to pound away at her hole, it even starts to feel a bit wet within the rubber. The added stimulation is enough to make your heartily sore balls finally start to pulse, and you feel pleasure emanating from the base of your cock, urging you to go deeper. Groaning loudly, you haul Rei back as hard as you can, squishing against her butt with all your might as you climax spectacularly, filling your condom with thick reams of semen. Rei moans in sympathy, but a note of confusion turns her sweet tones shrill, "Oh fuck yes- WAIT. Wait you idiot you're fucking cumming in me! Oh fuck there's so much! Pull out fuckwit, pull out!" Startled by the sudden vehemence in her voice, you abruptly pull out of her, her unplugged asshole sloppily burping your seed out into the creamy filth already coating her sex. Now that it is exposed, you are able to clearly see the issue, your sex had been so violent it had torn the condom open, allowing your cum to surge into Rei's unprotected asshole; who is not taking it well.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck! It's so slimy and gross! I fucking hate cum! How fucking dare you cum in me! Ugh I feel like I'm going to puke!" she staggers upright, scowling furiously at you as she stumbles towards the bathroom. She points angrily at her door, "Out! Get the fuck out!" she screams, pulling herself onto the toilet and squatting upon it like a gargoyle. You quickly dress under her glare, as she starts to shit the vast amount of semen you had pumped into her. Once out the door, you report to the staff member, who seems unsurprised to discover that she had kicked you out of her room. They instruct you to return tomorrow, apparently the assistants were quietly cycled between the girls until they caught on and demanded their removal permanently. You are utterly shocked the next day then when you are once more ordered to wait upon Rei. Led to her familiar door, you find the brat hunched in front of a tablet, morosely jotting upon it with a stylus. She grunts as she sees you, frowning unhappily, rolling the stylus nimbly through her fingers as she ponders something deeply. Finally though she sighs, and demands that you strip once more. You nervously comply, worried about what sort of depraved revenge Rei has in store for you. But instead she simply stalks over to her bed, casting off her clothes as she goes, whereupon she bends over, looking back at you with annoyed trepidation.

"Well, what are you waiting for, idiot? You had better not break your condom this time! Oh and- um," Rei blushes in embarrassment, seemingly mortified that she has to say this, "please be rough again..."

#smut #kpop smut #ive smut #rei smut

926 notes · View notes

churipu · 4 months

Text

( OO4 ) ★ bloody mess , nanami kento

featuring. nanami kento x reader

warnings. mentions of blood, mentions of a lot of different pet names (sweetheart, love, etc.), hospital raahhh, anesthesia.

note. WHO'S BACK DOING THE 1K EVENT LAJSOS IM SO SORRY :< THIS ONE IS A BIT SHORT???

ENTRY ( OO4 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE

"quick question, how much blood do i have to let out to be deemed hospital worthy?" "a lot." "oh, well — that's not good."

tags: @sad-darksoul @sweeneyblue1 @idkuluka @colorful-happy-shit @tomie-it-girl

the room reeked of blood. if you get a gist of it — you'd likely think of death.

you held your phone in between your shoulder and your ear, slightly trembling as your muscle stretched. chewing your lip in frustration, the device ringing.

once.

twice.

thri—

"hi, sweetheart."

you sighed out in relief, "hi kento, i have a really quick question because i'm trying not to freak out—"

nanami immediately cuts you off, "is something wrong? what happened y/n?"

"quick question, how much blood do i have to let out to be deemed hospital worthy?" you asked him, eyeing the trail of crimson streaming down your ring and pinky finger — blowing on it softly, foot drumming impatiently. what a bloody mess.

nanami was silent for a few seconds, but you could make out a brief, "a lot."

that's when you finally let out a panicked but calm, "oh, well — that's not good."

the male on the other line shuffled a bit, and you made out a few static noises, "what happened, sweetheart? did you hurt yourself?" he softly asks you.

"um . . . i cut myself cutting fruits. it's stupid but — i was trying to imitate fruit ninja . . ." you explained, full of shame. yet again, from the other line, nanami shuffled; creating out static noises, "i should probably head to the hospital, right?"

"apply pressure on the wound, i'm already around the corner, love. keep on talking with me." he replies back calmly.

you did what he told you to do without ending the call, wincing every once in a while from the jolt of pain.

soon enough, nanami burst from the front door — his eyes finding your sitting form, a cotton pad wrapped around your bloodied fingers. with rushed steps, he approaches you, softly grabbing your hand, inspecting the wound.

"come here pretty," he softly mumbles, tugging you gently, "we're going to the hospital."

two stitches.

because you decided to imitate fruit ninja — in your defense, it seemed really cool in the games.

with an IV attached to your other hand, you laid on the bed, half droopy as the anesthesia had already spread through your veins. limp and tired, a hard cast covering your wounded hand to press on the stitches.

"please keep watch of their hands, and try not to move it a lot during the healing process — come back in approximately two weeks time for cast and stitches disposal." you could definitely hear a doctor say — clueless to you or to nanami.

but you answered them nonetheless, slurring out incoherent words, "oh . . . doctor, yeah! okay, mhm, i got you, doc, i'll be back soon."

a few chuckling erupted and you shut your eyes, feeling fatigue take over, "how are you feeling, darling?"

fluttering your eyes open, you nod, "good. how about you, ken?"

nanami brushed your cheek gently, staring at your droopy state affectionately, his elbow prepped up on the hospital bed, "i'm good as well. are you still in pain?"

you shook your head with a stupid smile, "nope, just peachy," you smiled, "i have a dress on my finger—" proudly raising your index finger up, where the pulse oximeter was.

"it looks wonderful, sweetheart," nanami softly threaded his calloused fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles.

the wound was worse than he thought. at first, nanami didn't know whether to be worried about your poor choice of action or your wound in all honesty, but at this point — he's doing both at the same time.

the male was in the middle of a meeting with the gojo satoru when you called.

"right? and — i think they stole my fingers," you whispered, eyes darting around here and there before eventually trying to raise up your wounded hand. to which nanami prevented by carefully putting it down to your side, on the bed.

"i promise your fingers are there, darling." nanami chuckled at your behavior under the anesthesia.

"no, no. i swear, i can't feel them — the people stole my fingers while you were not here," you refer to the doctor and the couple of nurses who tended to you earlier, "go check them, i swear, ken. my fingers are gone."

cute. you were very cute. nanami knew he shouldn't be laughing at all, but the way you acted right now was . . . very out of character. the passion swirling in your eyes as you try to convince him that your fingers were stolen.

"angel, i promise. they're there, attached." he moved a few strands of your hair away from your face, "you can be angry at me if they aren't there."

bad choices of words. because the very next second, you were trying to pry open your cast to take a quick look at your fingers.

"no, no. darling, you shouldn't touch that," nanami stood up, carefully holding your unharmed hand. preventing it from gnawing at your harmed hand.

"'m trying to prove something here, ken . . ." you rolled your eyes, leaning back onto the bed, "let me go," your whines made him smile.

"darling, 'ts not good to touch it now. we'll get it taken off in a while," you softly whine at his words.

"'ts too long. my fingers . . ."

nanami cupped your face and pressed a chaste kiss onto your lips, "they're there darling, i promise." he held out his pinky.

you childishly nodded, intertwining your pinky with his, "okay. promise."

"are they there?" nanami asks, holding your unharmed hand as he used his other hand to steer the steering wheel of his car.

it had been at least a couple of hours, and the anesthesia was slowly leaving your system — enough for you to be dismissed from the hospital. here you were, sitting in his passenger's seat, "are what there?" you questioned back, still feeling a bit droopy.

"your fingers."

in confusion you stare at him, "of course they are, in here." you mumbled, raising up your casted hand.

nanami chuckled, this was only something he and you (under the influence) knew.

406 notes · View notes

greatstormcat · 4 months

Text

Shut Up and Listen To Me

Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish x f!reader

This is my entry for the Soap It Up challenge by @glitterypirateduck

TW: MDNI 18+, angst to smut, canon typical violence and threat, p in v, semi public sex

The van skids to a halt, voices shouting around you just before you hear the noise of the side door being rolled open. Frigid air hits your face, but you can’t see for the blindfold covering your eyes, the fabric damp with tears now. You're shivering with fear despite the fact you are also sweating in the huge duffle coat you are zipped up in, knowing what is under the coat and padlocked to your torso.

“Out! Get out!” Someone screams and shoves you out onto the ground outside the vehicle and you stagger violently trying not to fall. There’s more yelling, the sound of the vehicle tearing away in a screech of tyres, and then silence. Terrible, eerie silence that prickles at your nerves worse than the shouting.

“Stand still!” A deep, booming voice calls out from a distance and you jolt at the unexpected sound. “Hands on yer head!”

“P..please… don’t hurt me,” you stammer, shaking uncontrollably with your hands raised beside your head. Your voice cracks and waivers almost into inaudibilty from fear. “I need… to find… Johnny.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” the voice drops low, and you suddenly hear it, the familiarity. It’s a voice you’ve known for years, that’s been in your house many, many times.

“S.. Simon?” You gasp.

“Johnny, no!” He yells, but the pounding of heavy boots on the ground tells you he is coming for you. Your salvation. Your love. Your Johnny.

You push your hands out in front of you, to keep him back.

“No! Wait!” You scream, throat painful with the force you put into the words and you hear him skid to a halt, his instincts kicking in. He’s always been a soldier first, you know that.

“What is it? Speak to me, bonnie,” his voice is so close, so thick with fear your lip wobbles. You carefully lift the blindfold so you can see him. It’s dark, youre illuminated by lights from a truck that Simon stands beside, his skull mask picked out in sinister shadows. Another truck with masked, faceless soldiers to one side. Johnny stands a few meters in front of you, crouching slightly as though you are a frightened animal, hands held out to you and concern pinching his features. His eyes bounce around your face as he maps the cuts and bruises marring your skin. Your breath smokes in the cold air.

“They put something on me, under the coat… it’s a… a….” Your brain refuses to finish the sentence, but he knows what you aren’t telling him. It’s obvious in the fear in your eyes and the evilness of the people they’ve been fighting. They’ve made you into a weapon to get back at the team, to hurt them as deeply as possible, by taking one they love. Taking one that Johnny loves. Slowly he inches forward, blue eyes locked on yours.

“I’m gonna take a wee look, okay,” he says slowly, and you nod unable to do anything more than that. With delicate hands he unzips the long coat and reveals the vest underneath, brown packs of explosives attached to it and colourful wires crisscrossing the whole thing. Steel wires and padlocks wrap around your limbs to secure it in place.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

“What for? This isnae your doing,” he tells you, looking over the device with determination. You know he has a skill with explosives, not that you understand the ins and outs of what he does with them, but he clearly knows what he is doing.

“I should be sorry, for getting you into this,” his says softly, not looking you in the eye. “I knew something was off when you didn’t answer my calls…”

“Johnny, sitrep,” Simon calls out from the truck, keeping back.

“Explosive vest, Lt,” Johnny calls back, uttering each word as though it’s the bitterest poison in his tongue, but not turning away from you. “Can’t tell if it’s a timer or remote detonation yet.”

“Johnny… Johnny, you need to get away before it goes off,” you grit out between clenched teeth, fat tears running down your cheeks and into the webbing of the device. You feel like everyone can hear your heartbeat, it’s so loud.

“I can do this, just give me time, bonnie,” he replies, voice deep and confident, but you know him too well and can see the panic in the tightness of his jaw, the curl of his shoulders. He’s scared, just as scared as you, and he’s trying to hide it for your sake. Even now he shows how much he loves you by trying to be brave when his world is about to blow up in his face.

“No, stop,” you tell him, knowing it’s dangerous for him to try and save you. “Get back before it goes off.”

He shakes his head, dropping to his knees to look at the wires and boxes more closely. He wipes his face with the back of one gloved hand, but his eyes are still wet. He lifts a Velcro flap and uncovers a screen with red digits, a countdown, and Simon sees it too, muttering a curse.

“Found the timer,” Johnny declares, eyes darting up to yours briefly before getting back to work.

“No…” you whimper. “Stop, get back.”

“It’s gonna be fine, just let me work on it. Trust me,” he snaps, tension fraying his temper as the numbers count down towards zero. He pulls a small toolset from one of the myriad pockets in his vest, and you can’t watch as he interferes with the device.

“Johnny, please!” You beg, bitter bile rising in your throat as you wait for the end, hating the loss of the future you had planned together, the memories you wouldn’t get to make.

“Hold still and let me do this!” He shouts back.

“You have to leave me….”

“Just shut up and listen to me!” He yells in your face suddenly standing, hands gripping your face so you look into his eyes to see the desperate pleading in them. “I’m getting you out of this and everything will be fine. Trust me… please.” He crouches down again and his hands work frantically, his mouth never stopping as he talks to himself through what he is seeing. His expression is terrifying, pure rage, and you can’t help but wonder how many times someone has seen that expression in their final moments on this earth.

Every time a wire moves you flinch, waiting for the inevitable. Will you feel it? Will it burn? Or will it be quick and painless? What about Johnny, will it kill him or leave him injured and hating you for the rest of his life.

“Johnny, we don’t have much time,” Simon calls.

“I know, Ghost! I know,” he groans, hands steady as he pulls and cuts.

You look across at Simon, his expression thankfully obscured by his mask, and you can’t help but think he may be the specter of Death himself come to claim you in your last moments.

“Johnny, less than ten seconds,” he calls and you hear the desperation in the huge man’s voice.

“Got it! Lt, bring the bolt cutters,” Johnny crows as the countdown freezes.

The moment the weight of the vest leaves your shoulders you crumble, sobbing and shaking, into Johnny’s arms. He holds you tighter than ever, crushing you into his own vest, kisses peppering the side of your face. You hear Simon’s voice, deep and close by as he talks to Johnny but you don’t have the faculties to understand what they’re saying.

You’re numb but cling to him as you are shuffled into the back of the truck, Simon getting in beside the driver and telling him to take you back to base. Johnny whispers to you the entire way, telling you how brave you are, how proud he is of you, over and over until you are lulled into a doze in his arms.

“I’m so proud,” he whispers. “I’m gonna marry you, never letting you go again.”

The vehicle eventually stops and you jerk into wakefulness.

“Lt, can ya give us a minute?” Johnny asks, and Simon nods, ordering the soldier out of the vehicle and shutting the doors. Johnny turns your face to look at him with his fingers grasping your chin.

“Are you okay?” He whispers softly, and you nod before leaning up to kiss his lips on a sudden impulse.

He kisses you back, fingers pushing into your hair to anchor you to him while his tongue slips between your lips. You ground yourself in him, fingers aching with you grip on the straps of his vest, which is suddenly in the way.

“Take this off, please,” you whisper against his lips. With frantic jerky movements he tears the buckles away and pushes the vest into the empty seats at the front, and you force your palms under his shirt to feel the hot, smooth muscle of his torso.

Something clicks in your brain and suddenly you need to feel him all over you. Your nails sliding into his skin and arm wrap around his waist and tug, and by the gods he responds, a strangled moan of your name on his lips as he slots himself between your thighs. Your kisses become urgent, insistent and he reciprocates with a hunger you’ve not know before.

“Johnny, I need you,” you whine, your body suddenly overwhelmed with the need to his, to connect to him on every level, to feel alive after cheating death.

“Yeah, I got you,” he moans and fumbles with his belt, pushing his trousers down to mistrust just so he can free his straining cock. Your hands shake too much to deal with your clothing so he helps, kicking down your jeans enough to release one leg and not bothering to remove your soaked underwear, just pulling it roughly to one side.

In one movement he hilts himself in your aching cunt and you moan into each other's mouths as you kiss, joined together at hips and lips. He hooks his thick arms under your thighs and pumps his hips, filling you again and again with his thick, throbbing cock. Your clit pulses with your heartbeat, slick walls sucking at him as he moves and filling the truck with pornographic noises. All you know is you need more, more of him in you and around you.

The cramped quarters of the truck means you’re folded in half, his cock dragging over that sweet spot over and over. Your orgasm building quickly, almost painfully and you grit your teeth, tears filling your eyes at the tidal wave of sensation that approaches.

“C’mon, c’mon lass,” Johnny chants, eyes fixed on your face just an inch away. “Do it for me.”

You can’t help by cry out as your orgasm hits, clenching every muscle and lifting yourself from the seat. Johnny curses again and again as he spills himself into you, rocking his hips to milk every last drop of pleasure for you both.

Panting heavily, your head clears from the adrenaline fog and you realise what you’ve just done. Embarrassment replaces the fire in your veins.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what….” You start to say, but Johnny stills your lips with his.

“‘S fine, dinnae worry. It happens like that,” he reassures you, helping you up.

“What do you mean?”

“Close calls send your brain a bit… screwy,” he smirks. “Usually we just have to have a wank after, this was a bit o’ an upgrade.” You sit up, fixing your clothes and wince as you feel his cum leaking into your underwear.

“Oh, so you and Simon don’t take care of each other?” You tease feebily. He laughs loudly.

“Already back to bustin’ my chops?” He grins and leans into kiss you again. The two of you exit the truck, to find Simon leaning against the rear of the vehicle, and you find yourself inside the base.

“Thanks, Lt,” Johnny says giving Simon a slap on the shoulder.

“Don’t mention it, knew it would happen so I sent the others on sharpish,” he replies before looking at you. You get the feeling he is grinning under his mask, having just heard you screaming on Johnny’s cock.

“Thank you, Simon,” you mumble.

“It’s fine, love,” he says softly. “Stay here tonight, I’ll deal with the fallout so you can stay with him.”

————————————————————————

Taglist lovelies:

@iloveslasher @gimbow @aulescev @ttsbaby01 @0alk0msan @nobilitando @gimbow @kaoyamamegami @evolutionarry @bossova

To be added to the taglist please complete this form and remember to reblog if you liked it!

206 notes · View notes

spooky-holtz · 5 months

Text

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: fluff (possibly alludes to smut at one point? If you squint?)

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I know Christmas was almost two weeks ago but this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks. So enjoy, even if my timing is a little off :)

--------------------

December. Quite easily the best and worst month of the school year. As another calendar year winds down, so do rigorous lesson plans, with most teachers at Abbott choosing to give in to the growing excitement among the students as the holidays draw nearer.

Less time is spent actually teaching and a lot of allocated lesson time is spent watching movies on huge, outdated TV screens, students gathered around the devices on Eagles rugs that were so generously ‘donated’ by Melissa earlier that year.

As the month goes on you find yourself spending more time inside your classroom, herding the group of preteens that make up the school choir as successfully as you would herd cats. Needless to say, it’s been a stressful few weeks of carol singing and rehearsals, trying to convince a group of kids that it’s not ‘lame’ or ‘cringe’ to appreciate music the way you do.

As the resident music teacher at Abbott Elementary, you find it incredibly difficult to get young people inspired in the way you so desperately want them to be, often having to let go of the talent you see among some aspiring young musicians for reasons outside of your control. Though the budget doesn’t stretch to allow much in the way of extracurricular activities, choir practice is the one activity where you have your greatest tool already at your disposal; your voice.

As much as you adore these kids, getting them to concentrate after a full day of learning is no easy feat, with them often choosing to sit around in groups gossiping or scrolling on Tik Tok rather than join you around the old piano that stands in place of a desk in your classroom, where you sit on your creaky stool, waiting for them to join in with you.

After a particularly difficult lunchtime choir practice in the middle of December, you find your feet carrying you to the sanctuary you often retreat to during your breaks: the teachers’ lounge. You trudge along the hallway, the heels of your sneakers squeaking slightly against the polished concrete floor as you struggle to find the motivation to get you there, dragging your feet along the floor.

As your hand wraps around the handle and you pull the door toward you, you’re instantly engulfed with the scent of burnt coffee and the sound of chatter as the little groups that sit around the room carry on their conversations, entirely too distracted to notice the door opening.

Jim Gardner addresses the room from the small TV that sits on the opposite end, his newscast largely going unnoticed by the audience as they munch on leftovers or pore over today's newspaper. Much like Jim, your entry into the room goes unnoticed save for a pair of emerald eyes that you can’t help but glance toward.

Melissa is already looking back at you over the rim of her glasses, phone in hand, the slight frown on her features already telling you that she’s noticed the lack of energy you carry. You can’t help but be drawn toward her, almost as if being pulled in by an imaginary force. She’s already pulled the empty chair by her side out by the time you reach her, and you collapse down on to it, sighing heavily, leaning your elbows forward onto the cold surface of the table in front of you for support.

“Choir practice really that bad today, huh?” she asks, sympathy laced across her face.

“I swear, these kids are turning me grey even faster,” you groan, bringing your hands up to cradle your forehead, “I mean, seriously, how hard is it to get through ‘Silent Night’ without laughing at the word ‘virgin’?”

The silence that comes from the redhead is deafening as you turn your head slightly in your hands to catch a glimpse of her expression. Her lips are pursed slightly, and her eyes are a little too focused on your hair, doing everything she can to avoid eye contact; a telltale sign that she’s fighting back a laugh. When she finally reaches enough composure to meet your eye line, she can’t help but snicker.

The sound makes you take your head out of your hands and throw her the most unimpressed look you can muster, though it’s a halfhearted glare.

“I’m sorry,” she begins to apologize, “but that word was probably the funniest thing ever when I was that age too. Cut them a little bit of slack.”

Great, so not only do your students think you’re a ‘nerd’ for making them sing carols but Melissa does too. Because having the woman you have an enormous crush on think that is exactly what you needed to round out your year. Almost as if she can sense your descent into overthinking, Melissa breaks the silence.

“Hey, I’m just messing with ya,” she says. She reaches forward, pulling you out of your spiral, and rests her hand on the thigh that sits closest to you, patting gently. “Besides, you’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

Your eyes dart to hers at the comment and you’re met with a wink. The simple move turns you into putty, melting you to bend to her will. Her hand burns through the material of your slacks where it still lays against your thigh, her thumb rubbing gentle circles in an effort to soothe you. You’re sure your face is matching that same level of heat that radiates from it.

She smiles back softly before turning back to her phone, leaving her hand resting against the patterned material you wear. The contact grounds you and helps you to think a little more rationally. While she’s distracted on her phone, you reach forward onto the table to grab Melissa’s worn Stanley Tucci mug and steal a swig of the steaming black coffee that sits within. The harsh flavor makes you wince, with you preferring your coffee with milk and an obscene amount of sugar to make it even barely drinkable. The expression you wear causes Melissa to giggle, the redhead having looked up almost knowing that your face would be a picture of extreme disgust.

As she laughs the hand on your thigh squeezes and she leans into you, the lines around her eyes accentuated by the deep laugh that’s taken over her being. You decide that this is the most beautiful version of Melissa you’ve ever seen. Carefree, happy, and relaxed.

The moment comes to an abrupt end as Barbara enters the room, both you and Melissa turning to the creaking door as it opens. Her eyes naturally fall to your table, much as your own do when you enter the teachers’ lounge, and her gaze lingers on you before she speaks up, barely giving herself a chance to sit down.

“Oh sweetheart, you look terrible,” she says, concern laced across her features. She’s not wrong. You know the bags under your eyes are worse than ever, having forgone sleep to choose which Christmas carols are least likely to make a room full of elementary schoolers insult you. You wish you had just chosen to sleep instead because every option you threw at your group of angels ended with nicknames being thrown right back at you.

“See, I told you that you looked bad,” Melissa says, the playful glint in her eye accompanied with the squeeze of your thigh letting you know she’s kidding.

“You look like you need this Christmas break,” Barbara adds, “Actually, why don’t you come to the little shindig Melissa and I have here on the last day? Get that break started early for you.”

It’s worrying how quickly you accept the invitation but Melissa’s hand on your thigh paired with the musky smell of her perfume makes it impossible to decline.

“Of course, I’ll come! Do I need to bring anything?” You ask.

“Nothing at all, we’ve got it all covered,” the older teacher replies. “Just bring your dancing shoes.”

You’ve visibly relaxed at the prospect, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your company. While you’re distracted taking another, albeit smug, sip of Melissa’s coffee, Barbara shoots the redhead a knowing look, quirking her eyebrow as she does so. For a split second, Melissa turns the same shade of red as her hair, caught out by Barb and the confession of a pretty obvious crush she gave a few weeks ago. She quickly manages to regain her composure, hand still resting on your thigh and phone still in hand.

You would think that a full week later, after hours of Christmas songs later, that you would be sick of carols. But you still find yourself sitting in the teachers’ lounge long after the rest of the faculty has left the building on the final day of school before winter break, with your usual duo and the addition of Mr Johnson. The room is filled with a warmth that doesn’t just come from the school’s subpar heating system, but instead from the situation you find yourself in.

You feel a slight buzz from the copious amounts of wine you’ve consumed since the end of the school day, your stomach lined with Melissa’s incredible cooking and sweet treats brought in by Barbara. You feel that Mr Johnson is in the same boat as you as he mills around the room, plastic cup filled with what you can only assume is even more wine, swaying by himself to the record that plays from the relic of a radio that sits on one of the many cabinets in the room.

Your attention is immediately drawn elsewhere when Melissa’s cackle fills the room, her and Barb sharing stories that they’ve no doubt already told each other a few dozen times over the years. You completely miss the anecdote, but you still can’t help a smile from breaking out on your face at the sound of laughter, the noise acting like music to your ears – it’s far better than anything that could possibly be played on that radio right now.

Almost as if by cue, the pair finish their story and the older of the two decides to rise from her chair, beckoning to you as she does so.

“Come on, I wanna start to shake my groove thing,” says Barbara, already swaying slightly from the few glasses of wine she’s consumed herself. You raise your eyebrows, incredulous, matching her action and standing from your chair yourself, moving further from the security of the table as a swing version of “Jingle Bell Rock” continues playing. “I need a dance partner and you’re the perfect height so get yourself over here.”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond before her hands quickly mold you into shape, moving one of your own to her hip whilst the other grips your open palm.

“Wow Barb, at least buy a girl a drink first,” you grin as she swats at your shoulder, giggling along herself. The bells on the front of her extremely festive bright red sweater jingle as she does so. The swaying of your ‘dance’ lasts for a mere few seconds before Barbara interrupts it herself.

“Melissa, I think we may need to swap places,” she says as she glances at where Mr Johnson stands, eyes still closed and nursing his plastic cup of wine. “I have a feeling Mr Johnson may need some assistance.”

Melissa mumbles her response as she comes nearer to you, seamlessly swapping places with the elder woman. You completely miss the wink that is thrown her way from Barb, eyes still focused on Mr Johnson’s one-man party.

When you turn your head back to face in front of you, you’re naturally drawn to the bright green eyes that sit slightly below your eyeline. You feel your heart stutter in your chest at the sight, rarely getting to see them this close. It always baffles you how many shades of green, blue and brown come together to create a colour that can only be described as ‘Melissa’. You realize you’ve been staring a little too long when a change of song and her words break you from your thoughts.

“Come a little closer, you can’t dance properly if you leave enough room for Jesus and the 12 disciples,” she says, her tone playful and smile wide. You can’t help but throw your head back in laughter as her hand snakes from your hip to the small of your back to bring you in closer. There's no mistaking who is leading who.

When you bring your head back Melissa is considerably closer than before. She’s so close that you can see each individual eyelash under her thick layer of mascara and eyeliner, along with the slightly smudged edge of her lipstick, the deep red of the wine making the colour even richer. The smell of her musky yet floral perfume invades your senses as she looks up toward you. You move your hands from her shoulders to link together behind her neck, her red curls tickling your wrists.

You can feel every slight movement she makes as Frank Sinatra croons at you both as you sway slightly in place, too scared to move too quickly in case you scare each other. Her thighs almost touch yours and your chests are almost entirely pressed together. You hope she can’t feel your heartbeat; the speed and intensity of it would almost instantly give away your feelings toward her. Her body this close to yours makes your head spin, your mind racing with possibilities of other situations you may find yourself this close to her in.

You can feel every breath she lets out against your lips, making you aware of how little it would take to connect them with her own. You’re pretty sure she’s noticed too because of the way her eyes keep flicking down to look at them every few seconds. You can feel her hands burning a hole through the material of the shirt against your back. As if she can hear your thoughts, she moves them slightly lower, coming to rest against the waistband of your trousers and dangerously close to your backside. What you wouldn’t give for her to just bite the bullet and slide them into your back pockets to pull you impossibly closer to her.

“You know, I, uh, never wished you a happy Christmas,” she breaks the tense silence, almost whispering as if anything too loud might startle you. “So Happy Christmas, Hun.”

She wears a slight smile on her lips, suddenly dropping the hard exterior she always carries to become the softer, more vulnerable version of herself you’ve come to fall madly in love with.

You can’t help but melt at the sight, your head dropping forward to lean your forehead against hers. She welcomes the move with ease, closing her eyes as you both sway slightly to the music, never moving from your position.

“Happy Christmas, Mel.”

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #reader fanfic #self insert #fluff #writing #wlw #reader fic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti self insert #melissa schemmenti x y/n #melissa schemmenti fluff #lisa ann walter fanfic #lisa ann walter x reader

190 notes · View notes

snoopyana · 4 months

Text

thot shit.

“ninety-nine percent tint in a blacked-out wraith.”

working at a bar wasn’t your first choice, but it definitely was your best when jung sungchan swings by for a visit. following him to his car for a little late night fun.

jung sungchan. smut.

face smushed into his backseat, the car windows fogged over. the gentle shake of the vehicle didn’t match what went down inside. if you could think straight, you’d be thankful for sungchans’ 5% window tint.

the workday started like any other, eating your dinner before heading off to work. leaning forward on your kitchen island, your eyes watched as your coworkers decided who was doing what that night. not bothering to take part in the conversation — as you were always going table to table taking food orders. being a waitress who occasionally made a drink or two.

sliding the dirty dishes into the sink, you treaded to your room. looking at the outfit you had laid out hours prior. a rather comfy set, skin-colored fleece lined leggings, a black skirt and a blue sweater — paired with your black ugg’s and silver jewelry. it definitely wasn’t an outfit that you’d usually wear to work, but the recent chills outside gave you a change of heart. looking at your phone for the time. ‘9:30PM’ stared back at you, deciding it was about time to leave, you rushed to your entry way, slipping on the coat that hung near the door — wanting to beat the snow before it got too heavy. tugging at the fleece tights that clung onto your legs, you were out the apartment door. quickly getting to your car and off to the bar.

arriving 10 minutes before opening, you had to slip through the crowd that waited for the doors to open. rolling your eyes as some of the drunks called for your attention. stepping into the side door, you threw your coat onto one of the couches in the employee’s lounge. “hey yn! i didn’t know if you were gonna show up or not. you never answer the group chat!” your eyes darted to the man that greeted you. being pulled into a hug. “hii taro. i honestly couldn’t be bothered to answer that group chat anymore.” a sarcastic pout formed on his lips as he pulled away. “understandable i GUESS!” walking around to the front of the bar with you following suit.

before you knew it, herds of drunk individuals came flooding through the doors. you were being called to a different table every second — serving people their drinks left and right. right when you thought you had a moment of free time, there was a tap on your shoulder. whipping around, you were met by a mans chest. “sorry to bother you, but can you point me to the bathroom?”

tilting your head to meet his gaze, you were taken aback by how stunning he was. seeing your fair share of good looking faces, he was one of the few that genuinely took your breath away. the man tilted his head, wondering if you were still listening. “hello?” his voice snapping you back to reality. “oh yeah,” you spoke, “follow me this way.” leading the male to the back, you could feel his eyes watching the way you swayed. your chest tightened at the thought.

“right down there.” you pointed down a hall, watching as he made way to the room. taking a deep breath, you failed to realize that you had been holding it the whole time. brushing the encounter to the side, you made your way back to the main area — being bombarded with more questions and requests.

finally being able to catch your breath, your hands searched your server apron for the device. ‘2:57AM’ blared on the screen. the bar had partially emptied out, half the tables still being occupied. your other colleagues had come in a few hours earlier, helping with the crowd. as your fingers tapped the glass screen, you could feel someone watching you. your eyes scanning the area locking with him. using his fingers, he beckoned you to his table.

stumbling over your feet, your body made way to where sungchan was seated. “sorry to bother you for the second time tonight,“ he paused — eyeing your outfit, “but i was wondering if you could bring me another peach soju.” nodding, you quickly made way to the bar. leaning over to get your coworkers attention.

“seokie! i need another bottle of peach soju please.” you spoke while looking back at sungchans’ table. looking past you, eunseok snuck a look at the table too. “he hasn’t has a single drink since he got here,” he mumbled under his breath “but now he wants one..” — cocking an eyebrow, eunseok was turning on his heels to fetch the drink. handing you a fresh bottle and sending you off.

popping the bottle open, his intense gaze made your hands tremble more than usual — but maybe you were tired. pouring the liquid into the shot glass, you slid it his way. “thanks sweets.” he spoke with the cup now on his bottom lip. giving him a quick head bow, you promptly walked to assist another table. in which they noticed your grip on the alcohol bottle, knuckles turning white as the pads of your fingers clung to the glass — as if you were trying to break it.

the place was now close to vacant, finally giving you a moment to breathe properly. just as you thought your night would come to a close, your eyes landed on sungchan who was standing idly outside, in-front of the conveniently propped open doors. everything seemed a little too planned out — but who were you to care. something inside of you told you to walk up to him. rushing to the back, your apron was replaced with your jacket. darting back to the front door. sungchan was walking around the corner — to the parking garage right next to the establishment.

lucky for you, that was where you parked as well. rushing to catch up, you were caught off guard, bumping into the man as you rounded the corner. “where are you off to?” he questioned, hands stuffed in his coat pockets. the wind was already knocked out of you, so his question didn’t necessarily register in your mind — all you could do was stand there wide eyed. “i don’t wanna come off as harsh love, but you seem a little ditzy.” those words finally pushed you back into reality, you were now wide-eyed for a completely different reason. “no i’m.. i’m just a little..” your sentence was cut short, watching as sungchan walked away from you.

“hey! that was kinda rude. walking away while i was speaking!” chasing after the guy, you nearly stumbled over your boots and the snow. “you were taking too long princess.” he continued to trudge up the stairs, stopping infront of his black wraith, with the windows damn near impossible to see through. “i was just a little out of it.” huffing, regret started to fill your mind. maybe you shouldn’t have followed him out. “so like i said earlier, ditzy.”

he leaned on the backseat door, arms hooked around his chest. watching you search for your words. why was it so difficult to talk to him? “no i’m not ditzy.” finally finding your voice, his gaze swallowing you whole. “i can make you ditzy.” the words fell out of his mouth like it was nothing, his eyes never once wavering. while you felt weak in the knees.

your attention falling onto the sound of his car door opening. “get in, i know you want to.” he spoke to you in that same monotone voice, almost demanding. but something about it felt — alluring. your feet made the decision before your mind could even start to process the situation. adjusting the front seat, you slipped into the back of the luxury vehicle—now seated in the back of his car, the man hovered above your seated figure.

his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, causing you to automatically part your lips. he smiled at the rapid reaction. lowering his head until his lips were mere inches away from yours. the males hand repositioned itself onto your jaw — lifting it up. your lips met, it started off slow. light pecks on the corner of your mouth. your hands coming up to grip at the half opened jacket, pulling him closer. sungchan hummed into the kiss, his free hand finding your clothed thigh. squishing the flesh, causing you to whine into the intoxicating kiss. the taste of peach still lingering on his plush lips.

drawing away from the kiss, you attempted to make out his features, the tints from his windows paired with the darkness from outside making it dim in the vehicle. your breathing rang in your ears, anticipation eating you alive as you waited for sungchan to make his next move. there was a heated silence, you knew he was burning holes into your face. “get on your stomach.”

you were quick to position your body over the middle console of the car, the console giving your lower half a boost into the air. your skirt slightly hiking up your thighs as you moved. your head lay flush with the seat, arms dangling on your sides. soreness was definitely in your future . sungchan wasted no time palming at your clothed body, hands touching whatever part of you he could. “i’ll give you the money for new tights.” the sound of your rather expensive clothes being torn down the middle, exposing your embarrassingly soaked panties. “i’ll pay for these little things too.” another rip echoed through the car, but you couldn’t bring yourself to argue. definitely not in this position. the car was rather warm, saving you the trouble of your cunt being exposed to the brutal cold.

his fingers dragged along your slit, sending chills down your spine and a whine into the leather seat, heat going straight to your cheeks. “someone seems a little excited.” his tone was dark as one of his rather long fingers dipped into your hole, your choked moans filling the interior. pumping the digit out of your cunt, sungchan slid two more in. the stretch and seer reach of his fingers sending shock waves through your body. your orgasm already threatening to take over your body, clenching around sungchans fingers.

taking notice to your growing noise, he quickly removed his fingers. a drawn out whine escaped your lips. the emptiness making your hips buck back, earning you a harsh slap on the ass cheek in response. “be patient pretty girl.” he spoke in a whisper, sucking on his fingers in between words. the sound of his hands fidgeting with his belt rang in your ears. you already felt fucked out from just a few minutes of the males fingers. your mind unable to imagine how it would feel to be legitimately dicked down by this man.

but lucky you, you didn’t have to imagine. sungchan bent over your body, whispering into your ear “hope you’re ok with me going in raw, i’ll try to pull out for you.” you weren’t given even a second to register his sentence before his hips were flush with your ass. moaning into the seat, sungchan started slow. one of his large hands deepened your arch while the other gripped onto your hips. the male groaned everytime his length disappeared into your body.

removing the hand on your back, it made it’s way to your head. gently pushing it further into the leather. the sound of shuffling and chatter could be heard from outside the doors. you recognized those voices as shotaro and eunseok. it was probably closing time now. “try to stay quiet, yeah? don’t want anyone hearing you princess.” rolling his hips, sungchans’ pace changed dramatically. going from rhythmic and sensual to brutal inna matter of seconds. “no.. don’t want taro or,” your sentence was stopped be a pitchy moan, “ seokie to hear me!”

tears painted your cheeks as you bit your lip as a pathetic attempt to hush yourself. as you tried to stay silent, sungchan was being overly vocal behind you. “fuck..” leaving his parted lips repeatedly. the windows foaming a thin layer of condensation as the vehicle gently rocked.

as sungchan rapidly abused your pussy, the knot in your stomach started to tighten. your skin heating up as your nails clawed at the mans seats. your hips lightly spasmed as your mind slowly went blank. “ ‘m gon- gonna cum!” your body felt like jelly as you creamed over his cock. “mm that’s it sweet girl.” his jet-black hair clung to his forehead as the man fucked you through your high. “but you’re not done yet..”

pleasure soon turning into overstimulation as he continued to mercilessly drill into your heat. the car being filled with the sound of your cries and sloppy noises that emerged from between your legs. sungchan was dead-set on making sure you exited this car with nothing but his dick in your mind and engraved into your walls.

you were definitely gonna need a nap after this.

note- would it be tmi if i said i almost creamed while writing this? i was feeling ditzy so i indulged in my sungchan rich man fuck me in the back of your luxury vehicle fantasy. don’t be shy to send in asks, anon is always on loves. hope you enjoyed.

#luvyujun #riize #kpop #kpop smut #sungchan #shotaro #eunseok #riize x reader #riize smut #smut #fanfic

170 notes · View notes

sw5w · 5 months

Text

Training to Become a Jedi is Not an Easy Challenge

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:12:33

8 notes · View notes

lilac-5ky · 1 year

Text

Roommates from Hell, pt.1 (Toji x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Stolen Fries taste best

(pic from loving yamada at lvl999, adorable manga, recommend)

Chapter 2 | Story Masterlist | Masterlist

Plot: Out of all the women that come and go in Toji's life, you're the only one he calls his friend. But when he suddenly forces his way into your apartment, the feelings you've kept from him are put to the test.

Setting: Pre Hidden Inventory Arc. Toji and reader are both in their late twenties, no Megumi in picture... yet :p

Themes: Cohabitation, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers

Warning: Slight sexual content minus the actual smut.

A/N at the bottom

“You’re late. Again.”

The small silver bell at the top of the glass door notified you of a man’s arrival, his heavy steps refusing to wipe themselves upon entry, spreading mud all over the now-blotted checkered tiles of the dimly lit diner. You’d been expecting the owner of those shoes for the past six hours, his untimely arrival coming as a bitter aftertaste to an afternoon full of childish joy and mayhem— popped balloons, colorful confetti, and half-eaten pieces of cakes swept into one big pile at the room’s southernmost corner by yours truly.

“I never said I was coming,” the voice retorted, its defiant sound overshadowed by the gruesome screech of a metallic chair. “Not interested in celebrating some brat’s b-day, ‘specially if it ain’t mine.”

“How many helpless children must have spent their birthdays without their no-good father, I wonder,” you wiped your hands against your cherry-red apron, pushing the broom back into place. “If your goal is to repopulate Japan, I’m certain you’ll succeed.”

Hefty fingers mindlessly combed through a head of obsidian black, little spikes forming and then settling back down. “None, as far as I’m concerned,” sarcasm dripped from his tongue.

“Well, I find that hard to believe,” you mumbled under your breath, circling through the room to ensure everything was dealt with: leftovers in the fridge, gift wrappings in the bin, and the large aforementioned pile of garbage waiting to be scooped up. “You’ve known Kenzo since birth. Even if this ain’t your thing, the least you could’ve done was make an appearance. He kept asking about his favorite uncle all night long.”

“Except I’m not his uncle. Don’t mix me in with your sister’s family, I ride solo.”

Sigh.

“My sister’s family might as well be your family, Toji. You know how much Hinata and her kids adore you.”

“Good for them, I suppose.”

Another sigh.

“Can you at least tell me what was so important for you to not even pick the goddamn phone up?”

As if the device had grown sentient, a generic tune began tooting from the back pocket of his sweatpants, eradicating your final hope that it’d simply run out of battery.

Without budging from his seat, Toji twisted an arm around his back to pull his flip-phone out, the silver-tinted lid slamming shut as soon as he’d peered at the caller’s number, his next immediate move being to drown the sound in a glass of leftover Coke, fizzy bubbles playing the device’s final requiem.

You didn’t need to ask to know it was a woman, and he didn’t need to answer that she, whatever the name of his latest conquest was, happened to also be the reason for his being unfashionably late.

It was always like that. He was always like that. He went out with one girl after the other; from women of extreme beauty and poise to mindless bimbos who couldn’t tell tea leaves and coffee beans apart. He’d spend some cash to butter them up with expensive meals at overpriced restaurants, or VIP entrance at the hottest club, or even pay for the name tag on their designer clothes, but come next morning, he was either caught stealing straight out of their pockets or checking whether the tag was still attached to the dress for him to return it to the store—at which point, the vast majority gave up, except for those few poor souls who earnestly believed they could fix him, though they never would.

If there were two things in this world that remained unfaltering and resolute throughout the eons, then that was the earth’s orbiting the sun, and Zen’in Toji’s being the bastard of a man you knew and loved— special intonation of that last part.

It was quite the oxymoron. To know him as an irredeemable scumbag with no intention of changing, and to love him for all he was; a sentence as contradictory and controversial as the man before you. What was there to love? He never gave two shits about the people around him dying, and if he could encourage or partake in their deaths then he certainly would. He gambled every cent of cash in his hands away, and his every attachment ended with the disposal of his used-up condom. He was vulgar, cynical, and brass, and he possessed a great charisma of making people dislike him at first glance. His only saving grace was his good looks and even those he managed to scrape on a daily basis.

So, really, what was there to love about a man whose place fitted best among the pile of garbage in the corner? What was the point in all that?

He never answered your question, and when you realized he wasn’t planning to, you dragged a second chair to his side, propping your elbows first and then your chin over the vinyl backrest, feet landing at each side. You took in his expression— sour and undeniably agitated, with a frown tugging at the scarred corner of his lower lip, and a glare too icy to be meant for the wall of American-styled neon billboards he mercilessly studied. Something definitely bothered him, and as a huff stiffened his chin, the reason became evident enough for you to point at it.

“Woman or work?” you gestured at the blood that dribbled below his ear and down his neck.

He followed your forefinger with his eyes, thumb scrubbing where the gush began. He seemed oblivious to his injury, though it wasn’t as if his becoming aware changed a thing.

“So it is a woman,” you gladly seized the chance to rub salt into his wound, drawing a frustrated grumble from him.“What did you do this time? Stole her car and crashed it into a tree? Blew all her savings on cockfight betting?”

“Horse races,” he had the nerve to correct.

“Or… did you by any chance bring an uncalled ménage à trois to her bed?”

“What kind of man you take me for?” Toji protested.

“A very, very, veeeery bad man,” you smirked, and he returned it. You knew him like the back of your hand. There was no need to pretend otherwise after well over a decade’s worth of friendship.

“If a very bad man is what I am, then why’d ya let me in?” he asked. “A young unprotected woman all by herself in the middle of the night letting such scum in never ends well. Thought you were smarter than this.”

“If I was smarter, then I wouldn’t be calling you my friend, would I?”

His grimace turned into a full-blown devilish grin, the kind that secretly had your heart buzzing against the frail set of bones of your chest. He always looked so dazzling when he smiled, that sometimes you couldn’t find fault in those women wanting to believe in his pretty lies, because you, too, wanted to. You hoped that whatever the price for those smiles was, you would one day be able to afford it and gain ownership of his heart, no matter how wretched or blackened it was.

“You are a real idiot to mix it up with me,” he conceded. “Though, you are a greater idiot for letting that term define us. I bet your nights serving meals at some kiddie place get rather lonely. But I could help. I could make you feel really good, Y/N. So good that you’d risk some prick getting in, lest he is me.”

His tongue poked out his mouth, giving his bottom lip a brief lick while he peered at you through half-lidded eyes. He had this way of turning things sexual in the blink of an eye, selling himself so well that your refusal to buy seemed commendable— despite the unmistakable affection you held for his face. Little did he know how much you longed to push that chair to the side and rip his cocky expression along his black-sleeved shirt off his body, making it so that neither of you had a place to hide from the other.

Now, that’d feel good.

“My nights are fine as they are, thank you very much,” you countered your instincts much to his disappointment. “And if I ever needed myself a helping hand, know that you’d be the last I’d call!” Not as if you’d pick up, anyway, you mentally added.

His gust of interest fizzled out as soon as it surged, your rejection forcing him to rock back and forth between the chair’s legs. He wasn’t interested in continuing this. It was enough for him to take in the dusty pink shading of your ears and smile to himself, knowing you were still the kind of woman affected by his charms. Yes, that certainly was enough, for now.

“I’ll clean you up,” you declared, getting off your spot in haste and strolling through the bar in search of a clean towel.

Once you found it, you let it soak under the faucet and brought it back to him, rubbing against his skin regardless of his petty attempt at gritting his teeth. You placed one hand on his shoulder and another at his jaw, pushing them apart to no avail. Every muscle in his body was stronger than your entire bodily force combined, and he was awfully willing to flex that difference between you, just as he was at letting you straddle his hips and climb all over his body like some sort of feral monkey in heat.

A string of profanities that ranged from “bastard” to “shit-eating-asshole-shithead” poured out your mouth while Toji smirked, and smiled, and grinned, and didn’t even try to stop you from knocking the two of you onto the ground, palms barely managing to stable your head over his face. Your pleated skirt had risen, or rather flipped, over your panties, revealing the strawberry pattern panties you were wearing to his greedy hands as they hiked up your flesh without an ounce of shame.

“Wh-What are you doing?!”

“What do you think I’m doing?” he cooed, burying his calloused fingers under the elastic waistband of your underwear.

You felt him trace the inward of your thighs in languid strokes, the fabric stretching the further his hand dipped— closer, and closer to your now-pulsing core, but never so close as to make actual contact. His hot breath tingled your lips, smelling of nothing in particular, but a sweaty tang of a woman’s deodorant that still lingered in his clothes. Had he fucked her before making it here, you wondered, heart tightening at the thought.

Your legs wiggled shut, unable to fully repel his hand, and for a brief moment, you considered letting him go through with this— whatever this was. Even if you came to be another conquest won, you didn’t care. All you needed was for him to hush all logic from your brain, and fuck you senselessly against the checkered tile floor of the “kiddie food place” you served meals at.

“Toji…” you begged, uncertain what you were begging him for until you felt the warmth in your thighs subside.

“Makin’ sure to preserve your maiden’s dignity,” he said as he fixed your skirt in place. “Wouldn’t want some perv catching sight of your cute little ass, would we?”

His condescending tone made you want to throw a slap across his face and then yours; for thinking that maybe this wasn’t a mistake, that you could really move past the pretense of friendship and aim at what you really sought. But he’d been right once before. You were stupid, stupider than all those girls combined, considering you knew and still wouldn’t mind being dragged down with him one bit.

“Fucking asshole,” you blurted as you pushed yourself off him, dumping the cloth on his smug face.

Your lip quivered as you stepped onto your feet, unable to quite shake the feeling of incompletion from your core, walls pathetically clenching around nothingness. You refused to look at him, lest you caved in a second time, and thus you paced around the booths, stopping before the one window whose blinds didn’t block the magnificent parking lot view. Only a black SUV was left— most likely his newest rental.

Following a beep, you watched the lights flicker white, his reflection in the window lifting the chair back up. You crossed your arms over your chest and waited, your impatience and frustration churning into a dangerous mix within your guts, as the asshole whose name wasn’t worth saying moved past you and walked straight to the door, not a single word or goodbye said.

“What about your phone?” you asked, at last paying him a look of spite.

“I’ll text ya my new number.”

“We both know you won’t.”

He glanced over his shoulder and showed you his pearly white canines, his expression not polished enough to be called a smile. You rolled your eyes in the opposite direction, spotting his old device blinking a variety of different lights, refusing to die just like its bastard of an owner.

“What should I do with this?”

“How the hell should I know?” Toji shrugged. “Get rid of it, or toss it in some burger. I’m sure no one will be able to tell the difference. Later,” the bell chimed as the door collided with the frame, chiming a second time as his head popped in a moment later. “Loved the raspberries.”

“They were strawberries, you scatterbrained swine,” you cursed, but he’d heard none of it. The car was gone, and so was he, and it was for the best that he didn’t get to witness the strawberry-colored shadow that loomed over both your cheeks.

Fanning some of that heat away, you returned to the table, surprised to find a white envelope with the name Kenzo hastily written on the front. Cash. Lots of cash. Enough cash to keep a low-end apartment afloat for at least a couple of months. An excuse and simultaneously the answer to all your previous questions.

“You fucking bastard,” you hummed, the term switching to one of utter endearment.

When the first instance of a wintry breeze came charging at the semi-exposed features of your face—a scarf’s fluff tucked right below your nose— you knew that walking all the way to the location where the unknown ID claiming to be Zen’in Toji ordered you to meet up was probably a bad idea.

For starters, you’d turn into an icicle long before making it back to your workplace. Not to mention you had no foolproof way of guaranteeing the person you were about to meet wasn’t some random impersonating psychopath. But when you finally spotted the yellow curvy “M” upon the rectangular red sign that spelled the fast food chain’s name, you narrowed down the psychopaths to that one cheapskate you happened to know.

Walking into the nearly vacant dining area —only the first two booths near the door occupying a family of four each— you detected him almost immediately. He was the only one seated in his wing. Head slightly tilted to look past the window, golden highlights showering the curve of a nose as it arched into thin eyebrows, calm eyes glinting with subtle emerald, and fingers that absentmindedly tapped away onto one of the two paper-covered trays. He had the decency to wait for you before getting into his food, though that didn’t stop him from munching on the occasional fry.

You tugged the handbag off your shoulder and slowly approached him, hesitating to enter his field of view, if just for a moment. He seemed so peaceful and serene, that if you had the guts, you’d snap a picture of him right then and there and make it into your phone’s wallpaper. But you didn’t. You’d never be able to explain it to him in a non-humiliating way, should he catch you in the act, and so, you shook the notion off and marched in his direction, his eyes lighting up in recognition.

“What’s the point of calling me out here for lunch if we are gonna have burgers?” you dropped your bag at the far end of the table. “Why not eat at our place?”

“I like the fries here better,” he bit onto one as if to affirm his claim, licking the salty essence off his fingers. “You should be glad I got you some, too,” he nodded toward the closed dome-shaped box that lay in front of you. “Nuggets over burgers, right? Didn’t know what toy ya wanted though. Cashier girl told me bunnies are quite popular with girls your age, so I went with that.”

Ignoring, or rather postponing your answer to his outrageous suggestion, you peered through the contents of your meal’s box, spotting the wrapped-in-plastic purple-colored bunny key chain right at the bottom between the small portion of deluxe potatoes and even smaller portion of chicken nuggets that still steamed hot air. You were surprised he remembered everything about your order, down to your preference for milkshake over other beverages, and perhaps you would have shown your gratitude if it wasn’t for that last comment of his gnawing at your pride.

“How old did you tell the cashier I was, again?” you gritted, trying to suppress the toy’s cuteness within your fist.

“Didn’t. Just said it’s for some kid I know. Probably thought it was for my daughter or something.”

A pair of googly eyes popped out from their sockets, the bunny’s head in serious danger of coming right off.

“Stop acting like an old man,” you muttered in embarrassment. “A nine-month head start in life doesn’t make you old enough to be my father.”

“Still older than you, kid,” said Toji, his fingers latching onto his wrapped-up burger. “Now eat up. Didn’t pay ya lunch for it to go cold.”

Annoyed by his remarks, but oh-so terribly starved, you decided to let things slide, the two of you lunching in a period of temporal truce. He went through his burger in big bites, clearing it out before you even finished your portion of nuggets. You mildly wondered why he’d held off if he was this hungry, but didn’t press on the reason behind his invitation until after his tray was half-emptied.

“So… why’d you wanna meet up? Got something to tell me?”

“Mhm, I actually do. How would you like us to be room—Nah, that doesn’t sound too right,” Toji shook his head off, dusting the excess salt off his fingers. “I decided I’m moving in with you.”

“You, what?!?” You shrieked, eyes wide with shock, resembling those of your newly acquired key chain.

“What I just said. I’m moving in,” he repeated as if you hadn’t heard him the first time around. “Got everything right here. I’ll pop by later so you can show me my room.”

You glanced down at what he tapped as “here”, spotting a large black duffel bag that rested on his feet. He wasn’t joking, you panicked. He was being 100% serious about this. Directing your milkshake to your mouth, you took a nervous sip, nearly choking on the plastic straw between your teeth, while Toji kept staring at you, awaiting no answer in particular. After all, he wasn’t asking. He was proclaiming.

“Why would you want that?” you asked once you regained the ability to think rationally. “Weren’t you the one who said you ride solo?”

“Numerous reasons,” he stated, drawing his forefinger forth as if to recount. “For starters, rental prices going up, gas too. Inflation in the market and all that crap. Your place is also closer to work, and” he leaned closer, “wasn’t your neighborhood the one on the news recently? You know, those serial break-and-enter cases? As far as I’m aware, the culprit’s still running loose, could be a cursed spirit or something. You can’t see ‘em, but I can. I’ll keep ya safe. Wouldn’t you want that? Sounds like a fair deal to me, at least.”

The repetitive pattern of a catchy pop song blasting from the speakers served as a backdrop to your thoughts, eyes flickering between the table and his face. He wasn’t exactly wrong about what he said. The girl next door was the robber’s last victim, and from what you’d gathered, it seemed like the ones targeted were exclusively single women in their twenties. Curse or not, that was the intruder’s type, and you just so happened to tick both of those boxes.

From a standpoint of reason, his suggestion sounded fair alright, but this was Toji we were talking about. The man whose name was your first thought in the morning and the final afterthought in the night. The man you were coincidentally in love with.

Living with him would entail being around him a lot more than you could handle. Waking and sleeping and eating in the same house as him, spending your days off together, bickering about bills, take-out, and the TV remote’s ownership, doing things that only couples got to do, and of course, sharing a bathroom, which on its own meant seeing him parade through the cramped little space of your apartment in nothing but a soggy towel, hair slick and teeth beaming as he’d be asking if you’d like to join him in the shower—

You hit the break on these thoughts and pressed your forehead flat against both palms, feeling the heat exuding through your fingers. You were only able to keep this relationship platonic because of the distance he put between you. If he were to suddenly close it, what would come of you? How on earth would you be able to hold back?

“Don’t you want me?”

“Huh?” you bit at the straw again, snapping it in half.

“I said, you hate the idea of living with me that much?”

Toji certainly didn’t mince his words, but the way he was looking at you, brows furrowing and lips quivering into a frown despite the edge in his tone, almost made it seem as if hearing your rejection out loud would hurt him, and because of that, you had no choice, but to shake your head in denial. You wanted this. More than words could express, you wanted to be with him like that, even if you refrained from disclosing that truth.

You wanted him.

“What about your girlfriends? Wouldn’t they be against you living with some woman?”

“Nah, I’m done with that. Done with all of ‘em.”

“But my apartment is too small. I don’t think it’d suit you—”

“I’ll manage,” he cut you off.

“I don’t even have a second bed-”

“We can always share,” he smirked, letting out a light-hearted chuckle as he watched color paint your cheeks. “Couch is fine, too. So, whaddya say, roomie?”

“…Fine,” you conceded, very well knowing you’d come to regret this decision. “But we need to set some ground rules! No trashing the apartment, no throwing your ‘work tools’ all over the place, no smoking, no drinking, no loud music, and no bringing in random women. No starting fights either! You’ll help around and pay half of what’s needed, so no gambling your money away. Those are my terms.”

“You drive a hard bargain, roomie,” Toji said, balancing his chin atop his elbow. “Fine by me. Told you I’m done with half those things anyway, and I don’t mind helping you with anything. I mean that.”

But I could help. I could make you feel really good, Y/N.

His words from that night still lingered in your mind like an unfulfilled promise, and when he phrased it like that, you couldn’t help but be reminded of how good his hands felt that night, creeping all over your skin as if he owned it— as if he owned you.

“G-good!” you said, picking up a fry off his tray and tossing it in your mouth, lest you said something stupid.

“No one taught you stealing other people’s food is rude?” Toji shot you a glare unequal to your crime.

“It’s not stealing if you are done with it!” you protested. “You haven’t touched your fries in over ten minutes now.”

His tongue clicked against his mouth’s roof, producing a series of “tsk” sounds while he shook his head in disapproval. “Didn’t take ya for such a brat, Y/N. Disrespecting me in my face right after we came to an agreement? That’s some bad business ethics.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, barely keeping yourself from groaning. “I’m so terribly sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have stolen your esteemed fries, sir. Won’t ever happen again, sir. Please allow me to express my profound remorse, sir.”

Although Toji knew you only addressed him as such to get on his nerves, he was still pleased enough to grace with you an unsuspecting smile, seconds before you shoved a ketchup-covered potato against his mouth, smudging the left corner of his lips in a way akin to that of his right corner scar. He blinked, clouds of fury gathering in the bleakness of his eyes and cheeks puffing up, painting the most adorable expression you’d ever seen him wear.

“So cute,” you gushed, unable to suppress a hearty laughter that agitated him even more, red blooming across his cheeks— most likely by the lack of oxygen, you interpreted.

“Fucking brat,” he hissed, dipping the last of his fries in ketchup and then stuffing your mouth with it before you could even react. “I’ll show ya how it’s done!” he declared, your lips puckering against his fingers, condiment spreading all over like lipstick. His other hand forced your head in place, stilling your chin for him to work on his masterpiece, making a much bigger mess out of you than you had made of him.

“Hmphmmph!” you hummed while Toji laughed, a deep sound that reverberated straight from his guts, his eyes glinting along with his teeth in sheer joy that convinced you to give up so as to not spoil his fun. It was rare to see him genuinely happy.

“That should teach ya to behave,” he spat, smugness in every aspect of his features as he pressed his thumb onto his mouth, cleaning the ketchup off with a lick. “But you did address me properly, so you’ve earned the right to choose. Napkin or my lips? Which one?”

Stupefied as you were, you didn’t understand the full context of his question until you felt the sudden warmth of his mouth flutter over your skin, the tip of his tongue sloppily gathering the leftover ketchup off your right cheek. Your jaw popped open, a small gasp escaping as a result of his action.

“Too slow,” Toji whispered, hooded green eyes peering right into yours. “I’ll ask again. Napkin or my lips? What’s it gonna be, doll?”

“N-n-n-napkin!” you must have stuttered at least a thousand times before forming a comprehensible answer. He was so close that if he tilted his head any closer your lips were sure to touch. “P-please get me a napkin.”

“Please?” he chuckled, acting as if was really going to kiss you and then pulling away. “Be right back.”

Even after Toji let go, you could still feel the weight of his thumb holding you down, your eyes zeroing in on his black sweater as he set off for the other side of the room where the napkin and condiments stand was located. You heard a few whispers coming from beside your table, catching three pairs of eyes shooting daggers right at your back.

“Don’t they have a home?” a woman’s voice echoed first.

“Kids these days…” a man added.

“Honey, don’t look at their sinfulness, it’s the devil’s work.” A second woman concluded.

You were on the verge of experiencing a cardiac arrest, and you were pretty darn sure you would have if Toji hadn’t returned with the napkins in time, his hand snatched by yours as you forcefully dragged him out of the place, spelling frantic apologies at whoever was listening.

Once you’d made it outside, you sighed in relief, winter’s viciousness coming as a much-needed slap across your face. You took in a few breaths, letting go of his hand and padding a few steps away from the store’s windows, afraid you were still the focus of their attention. Toji followed, one hand stuffed inside his jeans pocket, while the other held the duffel bag over his shoulder in a lazy manner.

“Can you give me a lift to work?” you managed to ask, dodging his stare even as he stepped to the front.

“I would, but I can’t. Gave the car away.”

“You did what?”

Nothing about your reaction was funny in any shape or form, but he seemed amused enough to break into a soft chuckle, his eyes, too, softening ever so slightly.

“Planning to walk around town like a bloodsucker?” he asked, bringing a napkin to wipe your lips with greater care than you’d think. “How dirty,” he cooed, gently tapping at the center. “Next time, I won’t ask for permission to kiss you, roomie. Let’s go.”

“W-Where?” your voice came out so frail that you doubted he’d heard your question, his bag bouncing over his taut body with every step he took outside the parking lot.

“You asked for a ride, didn’t ya? Come.”

A/N: Launching a new series because I have so many feelings bottled up that I'm in danger of farting hearts and rainbows and shit. Decided to take the time off and write this fic for myself cause I needed it, but then I thought why not share it with the world? First time writing for Jujutsu Kaisen and Toji in particular, so hopefully it's received well!

518 notes · View notes

techcomengineering · 9 months

Text

How Digital Door Access Systems Can Improve Workplace Safety?

In today’s fast-paced world, technology has revolutionized the way we work and interact with our surroundings. One area that has seen significant improvements is workplace safety, with digital door access systems playing a critical role in enhancing safety and security. Enhanced Security Traditional lock and key systems are easy to manipulate, and anyone with access can easily duplicate a key.…

View On WordPress

0 notes

mosaickiwi · 5 months

Note

Hi hi, if your requests are still open, could you do [REDACTED] becoming self aware and finding out that the player is super obsessed with him? From his pov cuz I wanna see the internal dialogue. Been meaning to write this myself, but alas, writer’s block 😞

obsessed angel is best angel hehehe >:3c

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~Super Obsessed Angel~

The library was often slow in the morning, so you always put some extra time into helping whoever came in. You were getting a few books off the higher shelves for an elderly visitor. As you climbed down the ladder, a stack of novels held to your chest, you were completely unaware of the other visitor who’d been sneaking through the aisles since they arrived. [REDACTED]’s gaze was glued to you, lost in thought as he watched you go about your day.

Something about you had changed since he did away with the Ren persona, as if a certain switch had been flipped on in your brain. It was easy to connect the dots for them—you'd been so obvious about it. Or maybe years of watching you just made every little change easy to spot: you were utterly obsessed with them.

The first clue was a genuine shock for once. He'd dropped you off at your apartment after a date as he always did. You were well past nervous and shy the whole time, but it was to be expected since he wasn't “Ren” anymore. Under the dark mess of hair, black outfit, piercings and tattoos, he was a nervous wreck, too. Far more than normal to pick up the hints of what came next.

As soon as your door closed the dark-haired man pulled out their phone to admire you through the cameras placed in your home. He thought you'd surely wind down on your couch before bed like usual. Maybe even chat up a friend while catching up on your favorite anime.

Instead they were greeted with the sight of you still standing in the entry and typing away on your own phone. He quickly switched to watch your screen, eyes widening at the rapid barrage of texts you were sending to Moth. All gushing with joy about your date.

Of course he committed them all to memory immediately—and his eyes had widened at some of the more interesting things you'd typed before hastily erasing it for a slightly less unhinged message. But one in particular stood out.

“I don't think I can be normal about them.”

That was months ago, and each new thing you did only reminded him of it. He noticed everything and he loved it.

Your bright smiles as you leaned into their touch, their side, their embrace at any chance you got—they had his heart soaring. If only they had let you convince them to do away with “Ren” sooner.

You even accepted the ring once thrown away all those years ago. Still on the necklace he’d worn to keep it close to his heart, but now a favored offering he would catch you playing with throughout the day while distracted by something or another.

It was everything he ever dreamed of. Of course, the quirks you picked up when you thought they weren’t looking were just as fascinating.

The way you always hastily tucked your phone away when he came back into a room was precious. As if they hadn't seen the photo of them you used as a wallpaper, least of all the dozens of other pictures you thought were safely hidden in the depths of your phone gallery. He had a picture to match each of yours in the thousands that filled his own devices.

Innocent calls in the middle of the night where you’d say you couldn't sleep just to hear their voice. He thought about teasing you and saying you could just record it, but then you wouldn't have an excuse—a blatant lie, he knew—to call. They always wanted to hear you just as much anyways, if not more. And even if you did figure out how to record it, he'd make sure the audio file somehow mysteriously disappeared.

He was almost certain of your obsession once you started taking clothes. Hoodies and jackets were obvious, especially since he intentionally left them out for you. That was more than enough to have him practically ecstatic.

Until one morning after you spent the night he realized a few things were missing from his wash pile. A cursory glance through their security system’s recordings confirmed it. The items in question had been purposefully stolen from the middle of the basket so as not to arouse immediate suspicion, and squirreled away in your bag without their notice. He’d only left your side for a moment that day to pick up the takeout order at the door. You were starting to get careful. It made him all the more desperate in seeing what else you’d do.

The sound of a scanner beeping in the silence of the library brought him back to the present as you finished up with the elderly visitor. You politely bid them farewell before sitting back in your chair with a huff.

They couldn’t help but notice the hopeful glance you threw towards a spot on your desk that was obscured from their vision. No doubt the place where you always kept your phone during work. Your hand reached out of habit for the golden ring—his ring—dangling from your neck.

Were you thinking of him? It was only fair that he indulged you. He was thinking of you just the same. One text hurriedly tapped out on his cracked screen, and he was intoxicated by the love struck way your face lit up at the buzz of your phone mere seconds later.

Eventually he knew he'd have to come clean about spying on you. But he had a feeling you wouldn't complain too much. The obsession was finally mutual, after all.

#14 days with you #14dwy redacted #momo reqs #now they're BOTH silly lil guys yippee!!!#[redacted] is still worse tho c:

159 notes · View notes

proxima-writes · 1 year

Text

Title: cruel summer | chapter 2

Pairing: Joel Miller/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Chapters: 6/6

Read on AO3 | Join the tag list

Summary:

Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Content warnings: age difference (15 years), explicit sexual content

Additional tags: oral sex (m receiving), masturbation, dirty talk, pet names, angst, internalized guilt, Joel Miller is emotionally constipated but Trying His Best. Let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Joel stops eating lunch with you after that day in the kitchen. You try not to let it affect you, but you miss him. You miss the easy conversation and the way he makes you laugh without even trying. It’s hard to focus on studying with him constantly on your mind, especially when he’s so close but just out of reach.

A few days pass without any interaction with him at all. He comes inside and immediately heads upstairs and the only reason you even know he’s there is the heavy footsteps above your head.

So you’re surprised when one day he comes downstairs and heads straight towards you, stopping a respectable distance away. He clears his throat and runs a hand nervously through his hair.

“Sarah’s daycare just called. I forgot it was a half day for them, I gotta go pick her up,” he says. “I’ve got grout mixed upstairs. I’ll come back as soon as I can, but I’ll have to see if Tommy can come watch her.”

“Oh. Why don’t…you can just…bring her here? I can watch her, if you need,” you reply. He stops his nervous fidgeting, hands dropping to his side.

“Really?” He asks. “You don’t have to do that, I don’t want to interrupt your studyin’.”

“Not getting much done today, anyways,” you say pointedly. He presses his lips together.

“Right. Well, uh, if you’re sure. I’ll go get her now.”

“Why don’t you give me your cell number. You can call me if you change your mind and are going to take longer getting back here,” you suggest.

He nods, digging his phone from his pocket and handing it to you. You pass him yours from the table. After entering your number, you exchange devices again. You check your contacts, biting back a smile seeing the entry titled “Joel (contractor)”.

As if you wouldn’t know who he was.

“Okay, well. I’ll be back,” he says, heading out the door with a lingering look.

————

Sarah is sitting in her car seat, asking Joel a thousand questions about where they’re going.

“Daddy’s gotta work, sweetheart. But I’ve got a very nice friend who’s goin’ to watch you while he’s busy,” he explains. “We’re going to her house.”

“Oh. Does she have toys?” She asks.

“I’m not sure. She might.”

“I hope so. Does she have snacks?”

“Probably.”

Her questions continue in the same manner until he pulls into your driveway. She frees herself from her car seat and hops from the truck, running to the front door faster than Joel can catch up. She’s bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet as he pushes the door open, but she clings to his arm as he enters the hallway.

Joel checks the kitchen but finds it empty. He calls out your name.

“In the living room!” You shout back.

He’s surprised to find you surrounded by a couple large storage totes, digging through one and pulling out another box stuffed with what looks like fabric. You look up when they enter and smile brightly.

“Hi! You must be Sarah,” you say to his little girl, giving her your name as well. “Do you like Barbie dolls?”

Sarah nods, her grip loosening from her dad’s arm as you start to pull some Barbie dolls from one bin. Joel watches you tell his daughter about how they’d been yours when you were her age, and that they’re very excited to have someone play with them again. You open the box of clothes and accessories, Sarah’s face lighting up at all the options.

Watching you with his daughter feels like a fist to the gut. You’re so attentive and kind, patiently explaining the different dolls to her and their backstories that he just can’t look away.

It’s not until you look up at him and your smile falters the slightest bit that he clears his throat and says, “Alright, sweetie, you all good here?”

“Yes, daddy,” she says dutifully, focused on changing the outfit on one of the dolls you’d given her.

“I’ll be upstairs if you need anything,” he says, more to you than to Sarah. You only nod in response.

He trudges up the stairs with a lump in his throat and a vise grip around his heart.

_______

Sarah might just be the best kid you’ve ever met. She’s smart and funny, making up the silliest stories for the Barbie’s to act out. You can see why Joel is such a softie for her.

“Do you have anything else we can play with?” She asks after about an hour of playing with the dolls.

“Why don’t we head outside?” You ask, picking the toys up off the floor.

“Okay! Can I show you my cartwheel?” She asks, jumping up from the floor and trailing after you towards the back door.

“Uh, absolutely!”

She runs full speed out the sliding glass door, bypassing the pool and heading straight for the grassy yard beyond. “Watch! Watch!” She calls out to you as she plants her hands to the ground and shows off her cartwheel.

“Wow, that’s awesome, Sarah!” You call out. You dig in the pool storage and pull out a forgotten soccer ball that you’re pretty sure has been in there since high school. It’s a little flat, but it’ll do.

Sarah continues to do cartwheels through the yard while you kick the ball around. She catches sight of what you’re doing and runs over to join, watching as you demonstrate some of the footwork from high school sitting in the recesses of your mind.

Sarah eventually starts to complain about being hungry, so you head back inside to set up a snack for her. “Give me one second, sweetie, I’ll be right back.”

You jog up the stairs and head to your parent’s room. Joel’s wiping the excess grout from the shower tile he’s just laid when you tap on the doorframe to get his attention. He looks up at you in surprise, dropping the wet sponge in the bucket and standing.

“Hey. I was just about to make a snack for Sarah and I wanted to make sure she doesn’t have any allergies or anything?” You ask. He stares at you for a moment before taking a step closer, hand wrapping around the back of your neck and tugging your lips to his.

You’re surprised but your traitorous body responds before your brain can, your lips moving hungrily against his as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He presses you back against the door frame, his calloused and slightly damp hands coming up to grip your face and angling it to his liking. His tongue slips past your lips and tangles with yours, making you whimper.

He pulls away all too soon, smoothing a hand against your hair as he stares into your eyes, his breathing quick and labored.

“No…no allergies,” he finally says. You huff out a laugh.

“Right…you could have just said that,” you joke. He cracks a smile.

“Get back downstairs. I’ll be done soon.”

________

Joel tried to do the respectable thing. He really did. He was going to let that one slip up be left in the past, move on with a perfectly normal working relationship. No more lunches, no more lingering in the doorway to talk to you when he comes in the morning and you’re still sleepy, sipping your coffee that’s more sugar than anything. No more after dark thoughts of you as he lays in bed palming his cock. Just him and the bathroom remodel.

But then you’d offered to look after Sarah, and you could have easily stuck her in front of the TV while you went about your day, but you gave her your undivided attention. He’d watched from the window as you showed her some fancy soccer footwork that he didn’t even know you knew how to do. You cheered for her when she landed six cartwheels in a row and then laughed when she crashed to the ground, dizzy and giggling. He’d watched you run around the yard with her on your back, a pool noodle held in her hand as she commanded you to charge forward.

And just like it always does when it comes to you, the weak walls of his resolve crumble around him.

To top it all off, you came upstairs to ask him the most innocent but thoughtful question and goddamnit, he can’t do this. He had to kiss you.

Now that you’re no longer standing in front of him, the logical part of his brain kicks back on and the guilt returns. What the hell is expecting out of this? He’s here temporarily, for a job, and so are you. You’ll return to school at the end of the summer and he’ll be here…what? Pining after a girl fifteen years his junior who could have any number of men her age falling at her feet?

Joel scrubs a hand over his face. Much as he hates to admit it, he’s going to have to man up and have a real conversation about all this. He pulls his phone from his pocket and shoots a text to Tommy to see if he can come over and keep an eye on Sarah tonight after she goes to bed.

________

Joel comes down about thirty minutes later and Sarah runs towards him, throwing her arms around his legs and hugging me tightly.

“We had so much fun, daddy! She watched me do all my cartwheels and we played calgary!”

You snort. “Cavalry, sweetie,” you correct.

“That!” She exclaims. Her head tilts back to look up at her dad with big brown eyes so full of love it makes your stomach flip.

“It sounds like you had a great day, baby,” Joel says, running a hand over her curly brown hair. “It’s time we head out.”

She pouts and Joel hits her with a look that’s so quintessentially dad that you have to bite back a laugh. The young girl sighs dramatically before stomping out of the room towards the front door.

Joel reaches a hand out towards you and you step forward, slipping your hand into his. “Can I come over later? To talk?” He asks quietly, fingers tangling with yours.

“S-sure,” you reply. He gives you one last nod before he lets go of your hand, heading out the door after Sarah.

_______

Tommy comes over around 8:00 that evening, after Sarah’s in bed following another chapter of James and the Giant Peach. He lets himself in, joining Joel in the kitchen where he’s cleaning up after dinner.

“Where ya off to this late, old man?” Tommy asks, opening the freezer and peering inside. “No ice cream?”

“Get outta my fridge,” Joel snaps, whacking him with the dish towel in his hands. “And none of your business, nosy lil shit.”

Tommy holds his hands up in surrender. “Geez, touchy.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t go riflin’ through the pantry, either, I already hid the cookies.”

Tommy’s annoyed groan follows him out the door. In the truck, he finds your name in his contacts and opens a new text thread.

On my way.

_______

Your phone chimes on the coffee table, screen lighting with a message notification from Joel letting you know he’s on his way. It’s the first time he’s ever contacted you by phone, and you smile down at the brand new text thread despite the dry, no nonsense message.

You fight the urge to reply, fidgeting in your seat with nerves. You have nothing else to focus your attention on as you wait for Joel to show up. You’ve already cleaned up after dinner and your second glass of wine sits on the coffee table. You’ve changed into your pajamas, a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized UT t-shirt you’d stolen from an ex-boyfriend.

The man himself puts you out of your misery with a soft knock at your front door. You open it to find Joel standing there in another pair of jeans, dark wash instead of the light wash work pair he usually wears, and a soft looking flannel, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.

“Hey,” he says, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His eyes roam your body, every place they linger tingling under his gaze. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’m surprised you didn’t just use the key.”

“Key is for the job. This ain’t part of the job.”

“Right,” you mumble, trailing behind him as he heads for the kitchen. “You want anything to drink? I’ve got beer.”

“Sure.”

You grab a can from the fridge and carry it with you to the living room, setting it beside your glass of wine on the coffee table. You take a seat, folding your legs under you. Joel stands near the doorway, like he’s not sure whether to sit or make an escape.

Finally, he joins you on the couch, a healthy cushion length of distance between your bodies. He smooths his palms over his thighs before grabbing the can of beer and popping the top.

“So…you want to talk?” You ask, breaking the tense silence. He sighs.

“I wanted to apologize. For what happened the other day,” he says, staring at the can of beer like it’ll say the words for him. “I shouldn’t have left you like that. After.”

You remain quiet. It had been shitty, getting left behind, all the adrenaline leaving your body and making you feel untethered. You’d cleaned yourself up and hidden in your room the rest of the afternoon, curled up in your bed.

“I don’t know what I’m doin’ here,” he confesses.

“Sure felt like you knew what you were doing,” you comment. Your smile is smug as you watch his cheeks heat.

“What I mean is,” he continues, throwing you a sharp look that reminds you of the one he’d used on Sarah that afternoon, “I don’t know what you’d want with a guy like me, baby. You’re goin’ back to school in a month, you’ve got dreams and goals I couldn’t touch with a ten foot pole, and you’re just a kid—“

“Don’t call me kid, Joel. I’m a grown fuckin’ woman, and I don’t need you making choices for me out of your own guilt.”

Joel clenches his jaw, his grip on the can of beer going tight enough to dent the aluminum.

“I don’t feel guilty about wanting you, Joel. I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about it. We don’t have to define anything, we just…go at this with no rules. See what happens.” You shuffle closer to him, walking across the cushions on your knees until you’re kneeling beside him.

“No rules?” He asks. You can practically taste your victory.

You lean closer, bringing your palm up to turn his face towards you, his lips parting slightly as his eyes search yours.

“No rules,” you whisper.

________

This didn’t go at all as Joel had planned. He’d been intent on coming over here, apologizing for his behavior, and explaining that he wouldn’t be sending you any further mixed signals. That all of this had to stop.

But instead, he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and hauling you into his lap, his lips pressed to yours to swallow your gasp. His hands shift the long hem of your shirt out of his way so that he can grip your ass and drag you closer.

Your fingers find the buttons of his shirt, fumbling to get them undone. Your mouth leaves his to plant kisses to his jaw and down his neck, your teeth nipping as you go. Joel groans your name, his hips flexing as you push apart his shirt to expose his chest to your greedy hands.

Your nails scrape down his pecs, catching on his nipples and making him hiss, his head dropping back against the back of the couch.

Your weight leaves his lap and he looks up, ready to complain and haul your ass back where it belongs. But you’re dropping to your knees between his spread legs and looking up at him through your lashes as your hands smooth up his thighs.

“I want you in my mouth, Joel,” you tell him, voice pitched low. “I think about it a lot. What it would be like to suck your cock.”

“God, baby, I think about it, too,” Joel confesses, hips thrusting as you undo his belt and fly. He helps you shove his pants down far enough that his cock springs free, slapping lewdly against his stomach. “Put your mouth on me, sweetheart.”

Joel should have known you wouldn’t make this easy. You don’t listen to his plea. Instead, you wrap your delicate little hand around his throbbing length and give it a few leisurely pumps that have him gritting his teeth.

Then, holding his dick steady, you lean forward to grace him with just one little kitten lick to his head, tongue swiping through the bead of precum that’s already pooled at the slit. Your eyelids flutter and you hum appreciatively and Joel has to fucking will himself not to come all over your pretty face.

“You’re such a lil fuckin’ tease, aren’t ya,” he bites out. You give him your most saccharine smile, the mischievous glint in your eye unmistakable.

He places a hand on your head, fingers flexing against your scalp but not pressing or directing. No, this is your show and he knows that.

You lick up the underside of his cock before finally, finally taking him into your mouth. He groans at the sensation, the tight wet heat the best thing he’s ever felt.

At least for now.

You show him no mercy, taking him as far back into your throat as you can before coming up for air and circling the head with your tongue before diving back down. You gag a couple times, each time making your throat tighten around the head of his cock and making him moan out your name.

Joel catches movement below and lifts his head further to see your hand wiggle its way into those little sleep shorts you’re wearing. “Are you wet, baby? Did you soak yourself just sucking my cock?”

You nod, mouth too full to respond with words. You look so goddamn pretty with your mouth stretched around his thick length, your lashes wet with tears.

“You wanna come with me, sweet girl?” You nod. “Listen to me, then. Slide just one finger into that pretty cunt for me, okay?”

You nod again, doing as you’re told. He can’t see anything past this giant t-shirt you’re wearing and he growls in frustration.

“Bet that feels good, huh, darlin’? Ridin’ your fingers with my cock stuffed down your throat. Add another finger for me, that’s it.” You moan around his length, the vibrations nearly sending him over the edge.

“Can you take a third finger for me? We gotta get you nice and stretched if you’re gonna take my cock someday soon.” You give a little whimper as your motions pause while you work a third finger into your pussy. “That’s it, Christ, you look like fuckin’ sin, sweetheart.”

Eyes shut, you work your hand in the same rhythm as your mouth. When you start to get sloppy, Joel begins to thrust into your mouth.

“Focus on yourself, that’s it. You just worry about makin’ yourself come all over your fingers and I’ll worry about fillin’ this gorgeous fuckin’ mouth.”

With your other hand free, you use it to rub fast circles on your clit. It only takes Joel a few shallow thrusts before he’s spilling down your throat and you’re swallowing around him as you reach your own peak and crash through the ecstasy.

Joel waits until your limbs start to go limp before hauling you back into his lap, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

“Wow,” you mumble against his shoulder, making him grin. You pull back to look at him and Joel hates the bit of fear hiding in the back of your gaze. “You don’t…have to leave right now, right?”

“No, baby, I can stay with you a bit longer.”

Joel’s fingers scratch lightly down your back, making you wiggle appreciatively. He fiddles with the hem of your shirt.

“Where’s this shirt from?” He asks innocently.

“Oh, it’s an ex’s shirt,” you murmur sleepily. Joel hums.

“Maybe I have one rule,” Joel says just as you’re nodding off.

“Hmm?”

“We’re getting rid of this fuckin’ shirt.”

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #joel miller #joel tlou #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

710 notes · View notes

hihello-pinky · 1 year

Text

Sight (2)

Suna Rintarou x F! Reader

Sometimes, it takes losing someone to finally see them. He wished he knew this before, but Rintarou had to learn this the hard way.

WARNINGS: mentions of abortion, mentions of miscarriage (NO SMUT IN THIS PART!)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This is no way represents my views of the original anime/manga characters.

WC: 3.3k Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort Other Tags: Forced Marriage, Developing Relationship, Denial of Feelings, Emotionally Repressed, References to Illness, Angst with a Happy Ending, + more to be added.

I know I mentioned I’m working on having a longer part 2 but I kinda like where this ended. Thank you all for waiting and for the love and support!!!

part one part two part three part ???

leave me love?

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Looking back to it, everything happened so fast. As soon as your friends forced Suna’s name out of your mouth after they found out you’re pregnant, they pulled all their connections to get the two of you to meet... Only for him to question the fatherhood of your child. That’s when you first met Osamu Miya. You did not know back then that he was Rintarou’s best friend and as devastated as you were, you spilled your problems to him.

That’s how you found yourself next in the most stressful weeks of your life. Mr. and Mrs. Suna telling you that you are to wed their son. Rintarou telling you that you should get an abortion. And several nosy people telling you that you are a whore who got herself pregnant to get into the rich Suna family.

You tried to refuse the marriage, telling the couple (who, unlike their son, were the sweetest people you’ve met) that there’s no need for a marriage, you just need support to raise your child. They of course wouldn’t have it, and you knew it’s partly because they wanted to punish their son. You admittedly entertained the thoughts of getting an abortion but you just couldn’t do it... not after watching your sister struggle with multiple miscarriages in the past. And with the people spreading malicious things about you... you tried to ignore them, until a few days before the marriage where the gossips suddenly stopped.

Marrying Suna Rintarou brought a lot of changes in your life. First of all, you had to forego the post-graduate internship that was offered to you at the end of your senior year. Second, you had to move to a house gifted by his parents, which caused a rift between you and your sisters since you initially promised them that you’d be living with and helping them. And lastly, you had to live with Rintarou, who explicitly lets you know that he blames you for the forced marriage.

Another surge of headache breaks you out of your reverie. You straighten on your seat in the hospital lobby, waiting for the doctor’s secretary to call you. You had dropped off the kids at Sacha’s place right after confirming with the receptionist that there’s an available slot for a check-up. Last night, right after Rin left, you had a terrible headache, much the same as the ones you’ve been having for the past few weeks.

You look at the queuing monitor and notice that there are still a handful of people before your turn. You open your bag to get your Kindle but it grazes the leather bind of your journal. You must have taken it with you when you took your reading device from the bedside drawer. And just as you’re always inclined to do, you flip to the already dog-eared pages and read through your journal entries from years ago. It’s time to relive the memories.

You were in your fourteenth week of pregnancy. The new house’s backyard was as empty as you felt for the last two months of living with your new husband. He would wake up early and arrive home late. Thankfully, you have managed to befriend the housekeepers, Yuto and Jiri. It was one evening, though, that neither of them was home since the former was on leave while the latter was sick.

The clock struck ten and the main door opened, revealing Rintarou who looked visibly unwell. You rushed to him and he tried to swat you away, only for you to feel how his skin was burning. He must have been feeling too sick because after two more attempts, he finally let you help him into his bed.

That night, you nursed him to the best of your abilities, from changing his clothes to wiping his face with cold cloth. You even cooked soup for him, feeding him as his hands were shaking too much. As you were about to leave his room so you could go back to the spare one where you have been staying since you two moved in, his rough voice stopped you. “Stay.”

Your eyes widened, unsure if you heard him right. “Are you...?”

He groaned. “Or call Jiri. I need her.”

“She’s sick,” you replied. “I’ll just stay... if that’s okay with you?”

He was quiet for a while. “Okay.”

That night, you ended up staying with Rintarou, sitting beside his bed and barely getting any sleep. It went on for two more days. When you woke up on the fourth morning, you were surprised to find a blanket on top of you, much less feel the softness of a mattress below you.

You jolted awake and was surprised to see Rintarou sitting up with his back leaning against the bedframe and talking to someone on the phone. “Thanks, Kita. Yes, I’m feeling better. I’ll be back in the office tomorrow.” He must have noticed you staring at him for he turned his head towards you, the look on his face unreadable. “Call me when something urgent comes up. I have to go.” After dropping the call, he moved to stand up.

“Are you okay?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

“Weren’t you eavesdropping?” He shot back. “I’m feeling better. Jiri’s coming in today by the way, no need to make your pathetic attempts of forcing yourself into my business.” Suna didn’t even spare you a glance before he marched off to his bathroom.

Despite the two months of living with him, his actions towards you still managed to hurt. You gulped and moved to stand up from the bed, knowing too well that Suna would want nothing but to see his room void of you once he comes back.

Two days later, you found yourself with a flu. You begged Jiri not to tell Suna or his parents. But alas, you should have known better that while she had become your friend, her loyalty was still with the Suna family.

On the third night of your flu, you heard a knock on your door. It was odd since it was way past Jiri’s and Yuto’s hours of duty. Sighing, you forced yourself from your bed, wrapping the fluffy blanket around your body.

I must be delirious, was your first thought as you saw Suna at the other side of the door.

“Did something happen?” You asked, trying to hold back a cough, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He looked every bit uncomfortable as he handed you a paper bag. “Here.”

You reluctantly received it and peeked inside. Care package. You looked up at him questioningly. “What’s this for?”

He broke the eye contact and mumbled something.

“Sorry? What did you say?”

He let out an annoyed sigh and forced himself to look at you eye to eye. “Jiri told me you were sick and that you probably got it from me. She scolded me that I shouldn’t have asked you to stay in the same room because it’s risky for pregnant people.” His eyebrows furrowed. “What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing,” you replied but you knew your smile was still on your face. “You didn’t have to go out of the way to give me this, you know.”

“Then what the fuck was I supposed to do? Jiri would have never let me hear the end of it.”

“Hmm... could have just said ‘sorry’, maybe?”

Suna rolled his eyes and opened his hand, palm up. “Forget it, then. Give that back.”

You clutched the care package against your chest. “No way! No taking back, this is mine already!” Before you knew it, a giggle escaped your lips. You immediately froze, realizing it was Suna you were talking to. However, when you dared to look at him, there’s a barely noticeable hint of a smile on his lips, the atmosphere between the two of you warm. “Good night, Y/N.”

It’s only when the sound of his footsteps have receded that you realized what happened: he just called you by your first name.

“Mrs. Y/N Suna?” The secretary’s voice brings you back to the present. “Please enter room 125.”

You gather your things and make your way into your doctor’s office. She greets you with a warm smile. “How are you doing, Y/N?” The doctor asks as soon as you’ve settled down on your seat. “You haven’t visited in a while.” Megumi Hirai is a nice lady who’s in her early forties and you’ve taken a liking to her in the past few years. “I take it you’ve been busy?”

You nod. “It was the kids’ birthday party yesterday. There was a lot of preparation that needed to be done.”

“Oh, that’s nice. How old are they now?”

“Five,” you smile proudly. “I feel like they’re growing up too fast. I want them to stay little for just a little bit longer.”

At that, Dr. Hirai laughs. “Every parent experience that. I see no reason for you to worry though, you’re still young. Isn’t it about time that you and Rintarou try for another child?”

The smile on your lips drops a little. “We’re too busy for that this time, I think.”

Sensing that you want to change the subject, Dr. Hirai moves on to another topic. “How’s work going?”

“Great,” you reply. “A bit stressful, but it’s all good.” Despite the Suna family saying there’s no need for you to work, you still got yourself a job at a local publishing company. You’ve been loyal to it, and now you’re one of the head editors.

You’ve always been passionate about writing and editing; you could say you were depressed when you had to let go of the internship at the global publishing company because of the sudden pregnancy. The memories of you sharing that to Rin and him reluctantly helping you find a job poke at your head.

You will yourself to stay at the present. “I’m still happy with my job.”

“That’s nice to hear.” Dr. Hirai smiles. “What’s your concern, then?”

“I’ve been having these extreme headaches for the past few weeks. Sometimes they last long, sometimes they pass quickly. The other night, I think I passed out.”

The doctor hums. “Any other symptoms?”

“Um, I can’t think of any…”

“Have you noticed any trend on the times when they surge?”

You shake your head no. “Not really. I honestly don’t think it’s serious but they’ve been becoming more frequent lately.”

“Okay.” Dr. Hirai says, pulling out some papers. “I’ll be requesting for you to undergo some tests. Have them done as soon as possible so you can schedule another checkup with me.”

“Thank you, doctor.” You take the request forms.

“You’re welcome,” Dr. Hirai smiles kindly. “And Mrs. Suna?”

“Yes?“

“Don’t downplay the headaches you’re experiencing. You never know if they’re actually underlying symptoms of something serious. Have a nice day.”

--------

“I’m sorry to be saying this, but you don’t look too well.” Osamu Miya is placing the take-out rice balls you had just bought in the paper bags as he alternately looks between his task at hand and you, who’s sitting at the counter.

You had decided to drop by his restaurant before picking up the kids from Sacha. His statement makes you bite your lip. “Is it that obvious?”

“That you look like you had no sleep and cried your eyes out for hours?” Osamu asks in reply, then takes a deep breath. “Yes.” The gray-haired man shakes his head. “Rin is so fucking stupid. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize on behalf of him, Osamu,” you say. “He’s your best friend but his actions are all his own choices.”

The twin keeps quiet for a while as he finishes packing your order. In the meantime, you rub your fingers against your temple, symptoms of a headache beginning to manifest again. You close your eyes, hoping it goes away. Once you open them, you see Osamu staring intently at you. “I have a confession to make,” he says.

This piques your interest and you lean a little bit forward. “What is it?”

“It’s all my fault,” Osamu says, gulping. “After that first night we met, I went to Rin’s parents and told them what happened. He initially confided in me that he got someone pregnant and I wasn’t planning on getting involved until I met you. You were nice and kind, I couldn’t let Rintarou to just fuck up your life.

“I thought once he gets married, once he gets to know you... he’d grow and change. But I was wrong.” His eyes are now filled with guilt and apology. “I’m sorry, Y/N. If I had known that Rin wouldn’t change one bit during the past five years – ”

“Stop,” you cut him off, no longer wanting to hear more. “That’s all in the past now.” You contemplate your next words carefully. “Besides, it’s not like Rin was completely horrible to me during the time we’ve been together.”

Osamu’s voice is filled with curiosity. “What do you mean?”

It’s at that exact moment that the door of the restaurant swings opens and someone enters, your heart dropping once you see who it is.

Suna Rintarou. Your husband.

-------

Suna hasn’t seen you since the night before and he definitely wasn’t expecting to see you here at Osamu’s restaurant. Once you face him, he immediately notices the redness of your eyes that your makeup wasn’t able to cover. He chooses not to think about the reason behind them.

“Hey, Rin,” his friend waves at him from behind the counter. “Y/N is here.”

He rolls his eyes as he stalks toward the counter. “I’m not blind, ‘Samu.” He takes the stool next to yours and immediately notices you tense. He inwardly sighs, remembering what happened last night. He turns to face you and gets a little surprised when he sees you gathering your purse and the paper bag from the counter.

“I have to go. Bye, Osamu! Thank you for these!” And in a moment, you’re out the door.

As soon as you’re gone, he feels his best friend’s curious eyes on him. “What? Gonna ask me to go run after her?”

Osamu rolls his eyes. “As if you would.”

While his friend is right, the statement still annoys Suna. “Why was she here, anyway?”

“As if you care.”

He tries to mask his annoyance as he clenches his jaw. “You’re, right. I don’t.”

There’s a beat of silence before Osamu speaks again. “Why are you here, Rin?”

Truth be told, Suna’s agenda was to force Osamu to join him on a night of drinking where he may or may not tell him about what happened last night. But seeing you here... and then Osamu’s rather irritating replies... “Forget it, I’m leaving.”

“Did you and Y/N fight?” His friend’s question makes him stiffen.

Suna rolls his eyes. “We often argue. You know that.”

“Yeah,” Osamu replies rather curtly. “But this time, it seems as if you’ve crossed the line.”

To his own surprise, Suna replies with, “Yeah, I think so.”

He doesn’t need to look at his friend’s face to see the surprise on it. “Wow, that’s a lot... coming from you. What happened? Please don’t tell me you hit her.”

He glares at the man. “I’m an asshole but I would never lay a hand on a woman, even if I hate her.”

“Why do you hate her, Rin?” Osamu asks. “What has she ever done to you? You still have your job and inheritance; you can still fuck around... I know she doesn’t demand much from you about the kids. In fact, she got the short end of the stick. Why do you hate Y/N?”

Instead of answering his friend’s questions, Rin adjusts his position on the stool and makes a fist against the counter. “She confessed to me last night.”

“And what did you say?” Osamu’s voice begins to become unreadable.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Suna shrugs. “We were having an argument so I figured she was just trying to fuck with my head.”

There’s a short silence that follows but it’s long enough to make him feel uncomfortable.

“Are you really that blind?” Suna prefers it if his best friend is shouting at him at the moment. But alas, Osamu sounds so calm and everyone knows that Osamu Miya is ten times scarier when he’s acting calm during moments that would call for him to be mad.

“What do you want to hear as my answer?” Does Osamu want him to admit that all these years, he thought your hurt towards his treatment was solely because you wanted to have a happy little family? That he didn’t think you actually fell for him in those few months that you were in good terms? But, admitting those would mean he needs to tell Osamu about that time, those five months where he opened his heart to you. Those five months that he never dared tell anyone.

“Jesus Fucking Christ, Suna!” Osamu slams a hand against the counter, anger and frustration evident in his voice. “Anyone with an eye can see that Y/N is in love with you! Though it remains a mystery to me how she managed to fall for a dickhead like you, it’s clear that she loves you!”

Other explicit things leave Osamu’s mouth and Suna just stays there and takes them all. Once his friend is only heaving deep breaths, he begins to talk. His turn. “You asked why I hate her. Well, my answer is short.” He mentally sighs and, finally deciding it’s due time for Osamu to know, says the name that haunts him to this day.

Osamu’s eyes widen. “You mean...?”

“Yeah.”

He watches as a conflicted look dawns on his friend’s face. “Do you understand me now?”

“Kind of.” His friend’s gaze hardens a bit. “But you do know you’re being unfair to Y/N, right?”

Suna stands from the seat, retrieving the cigarette box from his pocket. “I know.” As he walks the short distance from Osamu’s restaurant to his car, all Suna can think about is, And I think maybe it’s about time I should apologize to her.

------

You’re inside the bedroom, just finishing up changing the sheets. Ever since Jiri left three years ago and you and Rintarou never hired someone new, you’ve been in charge of keeping the house tidy. In reality, you just had changed the sheets a week prior but what happened four nights ago just makes you want to change them, hoping that as they come clean, so does your relationship with Rintarou.

It’s been three days since the fight and oddly enough, Rintarou comes home on time and even doesn’t complain about sharing the bed. He barely acts as if you exist, cementing your belief that confessing to him was a totally wrong move. However, there are times when you feel him staring at you, as if he wants to tell you something...

You shake your head, reminding yourself that there are lots of things to do. First of all, the test results that you got yesterday after having the necessary check-ups from the day before. Second, the papers you have requested after a long call that you had last night.

You’re too engrossed in your thoughts that you fail to notice that Rin has entered your room. He’s wearing his work clothes which always make him look ten times more attractive. You straighten on the bed and try to look at his eyes. To your surprise, he meets your gaze. “We need to talk.” You both say at the same time.

You bite your lower lip, and seeing as he’s not saying anything, you take it as a cue that he’s allowing you to speak first. So, with a deep breath, you say the words you’ve been practicing in the shower this morning. “I want to file for divorce.”

TO BE CONTINUED.

647 notes · View notes

marivoid · 22 days

Text

Entry 25

Day 200

I think I nearly avoided death by not sticking around this guy.

While I was busy clearing out a gas station today, this guy popped out of nowhere! I swear on it! That gas station was as dead as dust and then he just shows up out of the blue! (Or brown? The sky doesn't exactly look blue really.)

He seemed decently friendly while I spoke to him. Rambling on about how he's completing these "Zedvancements" (I still haven't figured out what qualifies for one of those things) and that he needed help on this next one.

Then came the change in attitude.

"You know you could be a really useful person! It's just a second." It started off casual.

"No thank you."

"Come on man! I haven't seen anyone in what? Five, six days? My Zedvancements are boring without anyone to complete them with!" He got a bit louder around here.

"I am sorry but I really can't! I have to go speak to a man about a horse, you know? Can't dilly dally!"

That eye of his... He didn't seem all too happy when I told him no at that time.

(As I'm writing this down, I feel so stupid! He probably just wanted my head on a spike or something!)

"Who are you trying to meet with?" He had started to walk a circle around me then. Like I was prey (AND I SOMEHOW DIDN'T REALIZE. WAY TO GO PAST ME WHAT THE FUCK! WELCOME EVERYONE TO THE NUMBER ONE DUMBASS OF THE YEAR) "There can't be anyone that important that you can't stay a day or two!"

"Well, actually there is. I'm trying to find the Doctor!" And I had turned. Away. Just turned away and walked to the door like there wasn't a single damn in the world. "My arm here needs work to be done. Keeps glitching out!"

I distinctly remember just how shocked he was when I looked back at him. How that golden-yellow eye was fixed on me. How his weird pupil dilated several times over in just the span of seconds. He was getting angry and I hadn't known it at the time.

"You can't be serious! THE Doctor?? The madman?! Are you insane?"

"I am!" I had to of been stupid to keep talking to him, let alone to just crack open one of the last pop bottles that lingered on the shelves (I'm still fine as of writing this. I'm not hurting or sick because of that drink.) "He's the only one who can fix my arm. It's Watcher Tec and Admins were never trained on how to fix that kind of stuff."

"YOU'RE FROM A G.U.I.D.E?!" I swear to you his scream could have scared off a Night Stalker. "That's genuine Watcher Tec?? You have Old Metal??"

"I wouldn't call it that." I had let him see the complex steam system wiring up my arm to my stub. "It's titanium, not the stuff that the G.U.I.D.E.s were made from. And even then, good luck trying to pry that stuff off the walls. Once it's molded, it's stuck for good!"

I hadn't realized he had been staring at me like I was a fool. No, I was too busy chugging my soda. (Still really good by the way!)

"I know a couple of people that could melt it down." He had said oh so casually. (No I did not do a spit take here, shush.) "One's a few days South from here. The other, West. Find one of those guys and they'll help melt down some G.U.I.D.E. metal."

"I'll see what I can do for you. No promises though. Do you have a number or however these things work?"

Annnnd that's how I suddenly have three new contacts in my wrist thingy. (From here on out I'll just call it a Comm, since it's a Communication Device of a sorts, but not exactly like how those old phones worked back in the day.)

Person one (South) is called "The Demon" in my phone. I don't think that's a very trustworthy name, but it could be worse. The second one, however, is called "Heavy-Body Builder." What's a Heavy-Body Builder? Is it important? Dangerous?

And the third...

"Zedaph"

I'll have to make sure to contact that number as little as possible. Leave it alone unless absolutely necessary. That guy was NOT safe. But at least he showed me how to take photos on this thing. Got a reference for the journal though, so it was kind of worth almost dying.

Just got to find The Doctor.

-MLW

-G.U.I.D.E 67

#hermitblr #hermitcraft #hermitaday #zedaph #void art #original art #mcyt fanart #The Crash #martyn itlw #martyn inthelittlewood

62 notes · View notes

flyinghassassin · 8 months

Text

Web of Lies

Summary: You arrived Westview searching for a happy life,but Wanda realized your plans.

Word count: 2400ish

Warnings: Angst,Hurt/Comfort,fluff,Agatha being a flirty menace.

Masterlist

A cheerful voice brought you out of your thoughts.

"Hello,Y/N, How are you?"

"Hi,Mrs. Maximoff, I'm fine. Thanks for asking. How are you?"

"I'm fine,thanks sweetie,but please call me Wanda; Mrs. Maximoff is too serious; we are next door neighbors; you have stayed at my house to eat or watch my children when I was busy," she replied smiling.

"Oh, sorry, Mrs. Maxi—I mean Wanda," you said.

"Don't worry, sweetie," she smiled. "This afternoon, Vis and I are going to organize the neighborhood meal; would you like to come? You just got to Westview a little while ago; I guess you don't know everyone yet. If you want to go, it's at 5:00 p.m."

"I'll try to come,but I'm not sure if—"

You were interrupted by the voice of a black-haired woman.

"Wanda,look at that pretty dress," said the raven-haired woman, pointing at the purple dress with gold ribbons.

You had seen her before, walking with Wanda or near the park. Her name was Agape, or something like that.

"My name is Agatha Harkness,hun. And yours?" She said it almost as if she had read your mind.

"Y/N, Miss Harkness. Pleased to meet you," you replied.

"Wanda,you never told me you had such a good-looking and well-mannered friend," said Agatha,nudging Wanda lightly with her elbow.

Wanda sighed and resumed talking to you.

"You're going to the neighborhood meal, then?" asked Wanda. "I'd love to have you there."

"Hun,you totally have to come. The food Wanda makes seems almost magical," she smiled. "Plus, I'd love to have you there too." she winked.

"Well, if you put it that way, I'll have to go." You smiled back.

"I'm glad, Y/N; the twins will be very happy to see you," Wanda said.

"I'll be glad to see you too, hun," said Agatha, winking. "See you later," she added, giving you two effusive kisses on the cheek, making you smell her perfume.

After saying goodbye to both women, you went to your house, and after looking left and right and checking that no one was looking at you, you opened the door.

You left your keys on a table in the hall, took off your shoes, and went to your room.

You took your phone out of your pocket and called the only number you had on that cell phone.

"Agent Y/LN speaking. I need to contact Tyler Hayward."

"Right away, agent," replied the voice on the other end of the line.

"Agent Y/L/N,I was told you wanted to talk to me."

"Yes, director,I have news about the mission at the Westview anomaly."

"Oh yeah? Good work, agent. Add the information to the device created to do the investigation. Any more information you want to disclose?"

"Yes director. I've been invited by Maximoff to the neighborhood potluck."

"Excellent. It will be a good opportunity to gather more information."

"Yes, Director."

"Don't make contact until absolutely necessary, agent. Things are tense, and we can't allow her to suspect you. Our other agent may be in danger of being discovered."

"Should I inform her?"

"No agent. Continue with the investigation," Hayward said before hanging up.

After Hayward hung up, you pulled out a small rectangular device with a button in the center.

From it emerged a hologram that displayed all the information you had gathered about Wanda and the anomaly, along with photos of her and other Westview locations and advertisements, connected to holographic threads with other information, creating a maze of threads, photos, and notes.

You added some more information that you had gotten, creating a data entry for Agatha Harkness and the meal you were going to attend.

After this, you rested for a while and prepared to attend the meal.

You got dressed, grabbed a couple of bottles of booze from the fridge, and headed towards the place where the neighborhood parties were being held.

You greeted the neighbors you met and went to Wanda, who smiled broadly when she saw you arrive.

"There was no need to have brought those drinks,honey."

"Don't worry, Wanda; you invited me, so it seemed like the right thing to do," you replied, smiling. "Where do you want me to leave them?"

"Put them in that cooler over there, along with the rest of the drinks".

You nodded, and after leaving the bottles, you went back to Wanda.

"I'm so glad you were encouraged to come, Y/N."

"Thanks, Wanda. Anyhow, I didn't have much to do this afternoon."

"Enjoy the food,honey. It's on that table over there."

"If you need help,let me know, Wanda." You smiled,trying to hide your true intentions as a S.W.O.R.D. agent. By talking to Wanda,she might relax and inadvertently reveal some secrets that could be useful.

"Don't worry, sweetie, enjoy."

You smiled and headed to the table,grabbing some food and pouring yourself a glass of your favorite drink.

You were talking to some of your neighbors and Wanda until a woman interrupted the conversation you were having with some neighbors.

"I'm so glad you could make it,hun," said Agatha. "Allow me to steal this extremely good-looking neighbor," she added, dragging you out of the conversation.

You let Agatha drag you to one of the tables in the corner and started talking with an abundance of flirting on her part, sometimes making you blush and stumble with your words.

However, thanks to the conversation, you managed to get important information about Wanda: she and her husband, Vision, had had a strong argument, which culminated with him leaving the house to go to sleep somewhere else.

After lunch, you went home and added the new information you had obtained to the information you already had.

After that, you went back to contact Hayward.

"Agent Y/L/N, I told you not to contact me again. This is the second time you have called me today."

"Director, I have important information."

"Release it right now, agent. If it's not good enough, I'm going to relegate you to desk duty."

You rolled your eyes when you heard this. You were one of the best agents S.W.O.R.D. had, and both Hayward and you knew it.

"Vision, the android synthroid, has had a falling out with Maximoff. They're not together right now."

"Great time to strike. I'll get the troops ready then and warn the agent we have there. Too bad Maximoff found out; now you're the only one there."

"This information had not been communicated to me."

"It was not deemed necessary."

"My safety is important. I believe that-"

"Silence, agent. Prepare for attack."

"Director, one last thing. I don't think Wanda is aware of the damage she causes people in the hex."

"I don't care about that. We're going on tonight. Grab your gear and get ready," Hayward replied dryly before hanging up.

"What an asshole!" you muttered.

You prepared your equipment and weapons and waited for nightfall so you could carefully escape from your house and join the rest of the agents.

"Agent Y/L/N, you finally arrived," said Hayward sarcastically.

"I live in Westview; I have to be careful not to be suspected."

"Nonsense. Get ready. Maximoff is coming."

You nodded, rolling your eyes, and after girding your helmet on your head, you waited for Wanda to arrive.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The mission had not gone as expected.

Wanda had controlled the soldiers to target Hayward, and after a tense discussion, she returned to the hex, but not before taking an agent hostage.

She dragged you to her house without saying a word to you,and after arriving at her house, she took you to her basement and, with a snap of her fingers,chained you to a chair.

"Trying to attack my house doesn't seem like a good idea," she said, her voice marked by her Sokovian accent and anger.

You didn't respond, so she wouldn't recognize your voice.

"Oh, so the agent doesn't respond? Let's see who's behind this helmet, shall we?" She said, pulling the helmet off your head.

When she saw your face, it fell to the ground.

"You," she said, her voice marked by surprise and anger.

"Wanda,I'm sorry,I-"

"Shut up!" she snarled,her eyes glowing red. "Really Y/N? You've been in my house, you've been taking care of my kids,and it turns out that all this time,you were working for S.W.O.R.D."

"Wanda, I-"

She held up her hand, shushing you using her magic.

"You lied to me, Y/N. I let you into my house,I talked to you about my family,everything I lost,and this is how you repay me?" she said,tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Wanda, I'm sorry; I never meant to hurt you!"

"You never meant any harm." Wanda laughed dryly. "Lies. You took advantage of me,just like Monica! All S.W.O.R.D. is the same!"

"Is Monica okay?" you asked,with a lump in your throat.

"Yes. But I don't think she's going to be able to say the same about you. You're going to stay here,in chains,watching me destroy your beloved S.W.O.R.D.," he said menacingly,his eyes glowing red.

"Wanda, please,if you surrender peacefully, you can get a deal,but if you attack, you will lose all your chances."

Wanda walked up to you and grabbed your chin hard.

"Shut up before I send you back to S.W.O.R.D. so they can finish you off. For the hostage to come back safe and sound from a person as dangerous as me is not a good sign, is it?"

You nodded in fear.

"Wanda, please don't do anything you might regret."

"Do you regret all the harm you have done to me?" she replied hatefully. "Surely every time you spoke to me it was to get information out of me. Every smile,every joke, and every day taking care of my children was just one more opportunity for you. More information,more ideas on how to steal everything from me."

You didn't respond.

"Answer me Y/N!"

"I'm sorry, Wanda. I really am."

Wanda scoffed and turned away before glaring hatefully at you once again.

Then she went to your house, and with a flick of her wrist, the door opened, and she entered your house.

She walked to your room, looking for something you could gather information on.

After a few minutes, she found a cell phone and checked the contacts; there was only one: Tyler Hayward.

She called, and a male voice answered.

"Agent Y/LN,are you okay?"

"Your beloved agent can't come to the phone right now, Hayward. You've tried to trash everything I cared about,so now I'll return the favor."

"Wanda-"

The call was cut short when Wanda hung up and threw the cell phone on the floor,walking out of your house.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hayward's face denoted anger.

"Get a team ready. Now. The witch is going down."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your mind was racing, looking for ways to get out of the chains that were trapping you.

After trying but not succeeding, you decided to take the last decision you had left: dislocate your thumbs so you could remove your hands and try to get the chains away from your body.

With a grunt of pain, you succeeded and pulled the chains away from your body.

You stood up, put your thumbs back in place, and grabbed your helmet.

You looked around the basement you were in to see if you could find any weapons, and after a while, you found your gun.

You checked and saw that you only had three bullets left.

You put on your helmet, and after putting on your bulletproof vest, you left Wanda's house to prevent her from dying.

After walking for a while, you reached the edge of the hex and got out.

You could hear the screams of agents, the sound of bullets, and the smell of gunpowder in the air, so you quickly went there.

You found Wanda, with a couple of cuts and a bloody nose, surrounded by several agents with some kind of electric gun that prevented her powers from working properly.

Your gaze met Hayward's, and at that moment, you made a decision. S.W.O.R.D. or Wanda The decision was easy.

You raised your gun and pointed it at one of your former comrades' weapons, causing an explosion of sparks to fly out of it and knock him out.

Wanda used that moment of surprise to knock out more agents while you ran to one of the cars, knocking out the driver with the butt of your gun and starting the car's engine.

A mixture of surprise and hatred crossed Wanda's face, and it was in that moment of distraction that a bullet pierced her shoulder, causing her to fall to the ground in pain.

You went to her aid, firing the two bullets that you had left and quickly pulling Wanda into the "borrowed" car.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

When Wanda opened her eyes again, the first thing she saw was your worried face.

She tried to get up, but a piercing pain shot through her shoulder.

"Careful, even if I took the bullet out of you, you're still hurt."

"Where the hell are we?" asked Wanda.

"My house. We'll be safe here for the time being."

"Why?

"Why what?

"Why did you save me?"

You sighed.

"Wanda, I really care about you. It may have been a mission for S.W.O.R.D., but it wasn't for me. I really cared about you. You were someone I could trust."

"Where are my children?"

"I left them my movies and food and told them you were with me to prepare a meal and discuss some stuff so you'll sleep here this night."

"Thank you."

You nodded and stood up.

"I'll bring you the food."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were awakened by a cry of pain.

You quickly ran to the room where Wanda was and found her sitting up in bed, wincing in pain.

"Have your stitches opened up?"

"N-No, it was just a bad dream."

"Do you want me to stay here just in case?"

Wanda hesitated, but after a few seconds, she nodded.

You pulled up a chair and stood next to the bed.

In a moment of boldness, you grabbed her hand.

"I'm going to show you that I really care about you, Wanda. I promise."

A smile bloomed on Wanda's lips.

"If you give me a dish this good again, I might start to believe it."

"Rest assured," you said. "Sleep," you said, giving Wanda a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be here for you."

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fluff

203 notes · View notes