#I kind of hope I don't have to take it down | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonixe · 3 days ago

Text

౨ৎ megumi's mom

A/N: cross-posted from my smut book on wattpadd/a03. Hahaha, two for two for posting; this is a streak. This is just some indulgence and lowkey inspired by something I read on a03, <3.

WARNING: p in the v, cunnilingus, oral sex (female receiving), no condom we fuck raw, fondling, fingering, dinner room sex, we freakkahh. not proofread lol

PAIRING: Gojo Satoru x milf!reader

WORD COUNTER: 2768

Gojo Satoru had never been the type to get too involved in his students' personal lives. He was a teacher, a mentor, and sometimes, a nuisance to them—but with Megumi, things had always been different. He had been through a lot of things, he was tough, independent, and smart, so it wasn't odd for Satoru to help him, guide him—not as a student but he really did care about Megumi.

-And that is how he ended up in your living room,

You had invited him over for dinner as a thank you for looking out for your son, Megumi, and honestly, Gojo wasn't going to turn down a free meal and you...

You were Megumi's mom. You were effortlessly beautiful—the kind of woman who didn't have to try. The way you talked to him with warmth in your voice, not to mention the large assets you had, the way your apron curved your bosom—it made it better that you were divorcee, meaning you were single and ready to date, maybe...

He was so down bad.

"So..gojo" you said, placing a plate in front of him as you took a seat across from him, "You've been really looking out for Megumi all these years, and I really appreciate it a lot" You smiled, clasping your hands,

Gojo leaned back in his chair, flashing you one of his infamous easy-going grins on his face, he couldn't lie the way you said his name made his heart skip a beat, "Ah—don't mention it. The kid is practically family at this point" Gojo glanced at Megumim who gave him a deadpan stare before continuing his meal.

"I just hope he's not giving you a hard time," you said, you glanced at Megumi whose attention was focused on his plate.

"Oh, he's a little menace" Gojo teased, watching as Megumi scowled, "—But I don't mind, he's got potential"

You won't lie, the tenderness of his voice as he spoke made your chest tighten—he wasn't being just nice, but—he genuinely meant it.

The dinner continued, it was just some casual conversation between you and him, and Megumi just finished his dinner, then excused himself, muttering something about homework.

"You know..for someone who is strong, you're pretty soft with him" you mused, taking a sip of your wine in your glass, Gojo chuckled, resting his chin in his palm as he looked at you, "What can I say? He's got a great mom"

God..

You shouldn't have been looking at him like that—you cleared your throat at the obvious flirtatious comment,

Gojo was sitting across from you, a relaxed, cocky smirk playing on his lips. His silver-white hair was slightly tousled like he hadn't tried to fix it before showing up. His blindfold was off, with some damn eyes—blue eyes, fixed on you. You couldn't help but look away, as you focused on the wine glass in your hand,

maybe you had too much to drink—you were always a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.

It had been years since you really dated after Toji...walked out of your life—leaving you with Megumi, a broken home, and wound that just never healed right. The divorce had been messy, it was just filled with treatment and exhaustion—you tried telling yourself you were better off without him, that just managed to survive the worst and you would be the best mom to Megumi. Love was just nothing, only a fleeting illusion for the eyes, and the heart. But there were some nights, that you were in your bed, staring at the empty side of where he used to sleep,

now your eyes were on your glass, gojo was different, yea? He is different than Toji, he is playful, infuriating, and ridiculous—he talks too much, teases you, and—really cares about Megumi more than his own father did, you bit your lip

you started seeing him differently, you blinked, oh god—you were staring at him he whole time...you felt cheeks heating up

"Hey," Gojo's voice cut through your thoughts, light and amused. "You zoned out on me? You looked real deep in though just now."

You parted your lips, "I was just... thinking about how much Megumi has changed" you voice softer than you intended, you chose your words carefully, "You've been really good to him"

Gojo tilted his head, watching you with those blue eyes, "Well—I take my job as his annoyingly cool teacher very seriously"

You huffed quietly, shaking your head, "I mean it, Gojo...you didn't have to go out of your way for him, but you did" At that moment you felt something inside of you crack, you felt your throat tightening—the weight of everything in your life, the years of doing this alone, of carrying the burden of raising a child alone, while feeling you had no one to lean on—you inhale sharply,

Your fingers trembling with your glass, you felt warm tears slipping down your cheeks, you turned your face away quickly, pressing the heels of your palm against your eyes, embarrassed, "God—I'm sorry" you choked out, a watery laugh escaping your lips,

"I don't even know...why i-"

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor, then Gojo was right by your side, crouching beside you, closer to you.

He didn't speak right away, no jokes just stared at you,

"You don't have to do this alone, y'know" his voice was quieter, and you felt his hand brushing your cheek, you let out a shaky breath, trying to regain control of your breathing, the warmth of his voice—the quiet sincerity of his words just unraveled you.

"I'm sorry, I have just been doing this alone, for so long" you whispered, your fingers curled against your lap, you didn't why you were saying this to him, as you tried to wipe your tears away, breathing out.

Gojo just nodded, sighing out, rubbing the back of his neck before he spoke again, softer this time, "Yeah...I figured.."

You let out a weak, watery laugh, "Of course you did"

Gojo smiled—small, but real. He didn't try to tell you that everything as fine, or that you were strong—or that you didn't need to cry. You wiped your eyes, sniffling, "Gosh, I'm sorry I probably look like a mess"

Gojo tilted his head, "Nah..just a little damp, kinda cute actually"

You scoffed at these playful words, rolling your eyes, your lips twitched upwards, "God, you really can't help yourself, can you, gojo" you smiled,

"Nope" he grinned, "But hey if it makes you smile, I'll take the risk"

You felt the air shifting between you, as Gojo still crouched beside you, watching you with a certain look, you weren't sure of—something softer, unreadable. His usually cocky smirk was replaced by an expression that made you catch your breath.

Your heart pounded as you forced yourself to look away, but you couldn't—"Hey," he murmured, his voice was low, edged with something different.

You barely had the time to process before you felt his fingers brush against your chin, lightly, barely there—but enough to send a shiver down your spine. He tilted your face toward him, waiting, giving you the space to pull away, but you didn't,

then he kissed you, it was gentle, and his lips were warm, and soft, as it was pressed against yours. A quiet sigh escaping your lips,

You felt his hand moving, sliding along your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek, wiping away the last remnants of your tears, as he deepened the kiss, pulling you in, his touch was firm but careful. Gojo couldn't lie like he wasn't waiting to do this to you.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him onto him as you felt the world blurring around you both. It has been so long since you did this—someone that touched like this..since someone genuinely wanted you like this—the worst part about it,

it felt good, it was too good, you wanted it more.

When he finally pulled back from you, his breath was slightly uneven,

"I want..more" you mumbled, your voice dazed, gripping his shirt. You heard a chuckle erupting from him as he looked at you, it made your whole body shiver. You couldn't lie that you were aroused from just the kiss alone,

you knew something—dangerous was going to happen if you kept on kissing him, the way his hands were crawling on your body,

but you didn't care...

𝜗𝜚

You practically made out with your son's teacher again, you were sitting on top of the table as you kissed him more, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist and hips as you wrapped your legs around him.

"God—you're so beautiful" he breathed into your send, which made you even wetter, you moaned softly as he kissed you again. Gojo's hands slipped under your blouse, cupping your breast and making you grasp. You arched against his touch, as a low chuckle erupted from his throat, his fingers,

"No bra, huh?" he teased, as he roughly rubbed your nipples with his fingers, making you jolt up.

"You have really pretty moans, you know" he whispered in your ears, before leaving little kisses along your neck, his eyes drinking the sight of your aroused state. You wrapped your arms around him, wanting to pull him even closer than he was before,

"Gojo—" you moaned,

"Satoru" he stopped, turning his head at your dazed expression,

"Call me that, love"

Before you can process, you were lying on the table, with him above you. His slender, fingers danced across the clothed cunt, before ripping it off, "Satoru—" You arched your back at the feeling of his fingers entering you, your hands immediately on his forearm, at the sudden intrusion.

"Your s' wet for me" he mused, his voice was husky, making you even more nervous, but you just nodded. You were so overwhelmed—you hadn't had sex in a while, maybe that was why your body was so responsive to his touch, so sensitive. His fingers thrust into you slowly, feeling his thumb pressing on your clit, making you moan in pleasure,

His fingers dug deeper into your tight folds, picking up the pace. You were gripping the tablecloth on the table, arching your back in pure pleasure. You were gasping for air, moaning, overwhelmed by the sensation that was coursing in your body,

"S-satoru!" you moaned, he wasn't going to stop, feeling his fingers touching your g-spot. Making you jolt, clenching down on his fingers. You were so close to cumming on his fingers, your mind was hazy—what were you doing.

How long were you even able to reach your orgasm, or have sex after Toji, you didn't know but you craved it, and you were getting it with Gojo.

Suddenly, you felt the intrusion leaving you, as he pulled his fingers out of you. You felt a twinge of disappointment, you looked up at him, confused.

"Don't worry—I just wanna taste you" he whispered in your ears, making you shiver. As you watched him moving in between your legs, your eyes widened at what he was doing, you shiver at the feeling of his tongue pressing on your cunt, it was a wave crashing over you. As he licked your slit slowly, teasing you. His tongue pressed against your clit, circling around it.

You were embarrassed—I mean you craved this attention, not knowing how much you need it—fuck, you don't remember Toji ever doing this to you, mostly him fucking you still he was cummed into you, leaving you alone. But when Gojo finally pushed his tongue into you, you moaned at the sensation, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You help but to squirm beneath him, his soft hands on your thighs, holding your thighs up. You arched your back—how many times was he hitting your sensitive spots? Wrapping your legs around his head, urging him to go deeper into you,

"Haaa~" you moaned, rolling your eyes back,

His tongue flicked against your sensitive spot, as you shuddered in delight, whimpering against his touch. You were losing yourself in the sensation, your hair sprawled out on the dining room table, while your own son's teacher was eating you out.

"Satoru..m' so close" you whimpered,

He didn't respond but kept on flicking his tongue against your spots. The coil in your stomach was unraveling as he pushed his tongue, savoring your taste. You cried out, your body shuddering with pleasure as you came on his tongue, your toes curling as you moaned out. His tongue still lapping every drop of your cum on his tongue, making you overstimulate.

Your gaze was on the ceiling as you tried to collect yourself, your cunt throbbing after the crash of pleasure on your body, hearing the shifting between your legs, looking at Gojo standing between your legs, your juices still staining his face,

"Taste good as the meal" Gojo smiled, making you even more embarrassed, before you felt his grip pulling you closer to him. The feeling of his hardened cloth cock on your cunt, made you shudder,

"You ready for Ms. L/N" Your eyes widened as he gestured to his hardness, making you blush. You turned your head, nodding.

You felt his hands underneath your chin, "You need to use your words like a big girl" he teased, your eyes looking into his crystal blue ones,

"I..i—want your cock..please" you mumbled, looking away after you said it.

"Good" you watched as he smirked— you didn't know when he even took his pants off, but his cock was huge, your eyes widening at the sight of it. You felt your cunt throbbing at only the sight of it, as you bit your lip, as he positioned himself at your entrance. You immediately put your arms around his neck readying yourself for his dick.

You looked up, your lips parting, "You ready for me big girl..."

You nodded, biting your lips, feeling his cock sinking into your cunt, the burning sensation making you groan out, his hands on around your waist—rubbing your waist as you adjusted to his abnormally large size, before his hips started pumping into you.

His hips roll back to you, feeling your cunt being stretched out—he was just so big, you felt stuffed with him fucking into you, your head throwing up in ecstasy, moaning his name.

the sound of sex echoing through the dining room,

Your body was trembling, with his thick cock thrusting into you, over and over. Your breathing gets frantic, the simple pleasure making your head spin. Your hand was holding onto for dear life,

"Oh god," you cried out, his hands gripping your hips, feeling his finger digging into your soft, delicate flesh as he pounded into you. The table creaks beneath them as he fucks you,

'Fuck' he grunts into your ear, you just moaned in response losing yourself in the sensation coursing your body. Every nerve in your body was on fire, electrified, as his hips smacked into you.

You felt that familiar sensation in your stomach coming, as his cock hit your cervix, hitting you just right, making your toes curls. His rhythm was getting erratic, his thrusts growing faster and frantic, sending you over the edge.

He was close, you were close,

"Cum in me,—please.." you moaned out, you didn't care what you were saying at this point, you just wanted him. You felt a wave of pleasure waving onto you—so familiar, as he stretched your walls out, hitting the right spots with repetition. A strangled moan escaped your lips as you felt waves of pleasure crashing down on you again,

Goj, gripping down onto your hips as you clenched around him, your eyes rolling back in ecstasy, as you moaned out. Your walls clamping down his throbbing cock, milking him for all he got.

"S-shit" Gojo groaned, his hips jerking against you, you were dazed, sensitive. His fingers find themselves on your clit, harshly rubbing it, making you jolt up.

Heard his sharp intake of breath, as you felt him emptying himself into you, the warmness of his hot cum filling you up to the brim. The warmth was comforting, as you heaved in and out, still in a trance, your legs trembling around him.

You were there, his breathing echoing in your ears, after everything—your body on fire, your head spinning from pleasure,—what the hell did you do..

Your breathing hitched, realizing what you did, stealing a glance from Gojo. His chest rising, his white hair tousled, lips slightly swollen from you, feeling yourself still clenching down on him,

"Fuck.. you're still wanting more, hm?" you watched as Gojo teased you—fuck you couldn't lie, his post-sex look made you wet—you just had sex with Gojo Satoru, your son's teacher...just inviting him over for dinner to thank him, but you were being stabbed with his cock on your dining table,

but you would do it again, wouldn't you...

249 notes · View notes

bitchface24-7 · 3 days ago

Note

What would it be like if Yandere Viktor, finds out that the reader is pregnant with his child after he was transformed by magic (in the beginning, when he was still creating his cult). What would happen?

MY LOVES - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: you're pregnant. You never got the chance to tell Viktor since the whole bombing of the councillor's chambers. The hexcore changed him. He left. You're going to get him back, he's yours after all. And you're his.

warnings: pregnancy, yandere tendencies (obsessive, possessive, etc.), pre-established relationship, fluff, suggestiveness, Grammarly as my beta

genre: m/f

p.s. Y'all what is up with you guys and pregnancy?? The only babies I'll ever have are fictional ones with these men LMAO. Hope y'all enjoy

You're pregnant.

There's no question as to how it happened. You and Viktor had sex quite often. It wasn't at the forefront of his mind though, he'd go a week or two with his libido on the back burner until one day it'd overflow, and he'd ravish you.

For days you'd get a clingy, teasing, overwhelmingly horny Viktor. You were satisfied every time.

Viktor didn't plan on having kids, with his chronic illness and weak body. He didn't want to potentially pass down whatever he's been dealing with to his future child.

Well, when you have sex at the frequency you two were having it, accidents happen. A happy accident, but an accident nonetheless.

You were going to tell him as soon as you could, multiple pregnancy tests, a urine test, and blood test to all prove not only to yourself but your amazing partner that you were pregnant.

But then the councillor's chamber blew up, Viktor died, he came back to life with the help of the hexcore, he changed, he left. You almost had a breakdown when Jayce told you everything. But your determination outweighed your sadness.

You were going to get Viktor back, no matter what.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It didn't take long to figure out where he went. He went back to Zaun, started healing people, and made a commune for people to be safe and happy.

They call him The Herald.

He's still just Viktor to you.

He's always wanted to help others, make their lives easier. Now he has that ability. But instead of using his brain and the inventions he's created through science, he's using magic.

He truly is the perfect representation of Hextech.

And he's all yours.

You casually walk into the commune, a minute waddle to your steps due to the slight bump messing up your balance, and killing your back.

People wave to you, they smile at you, and are incredibly kind to you. You aren't sure why, but you're not complaining. You ask a few individuals where Viktor is, and they guide you to the heart of the commune, where Viktor's room resides.

You enter without any hesitantion, and the sight blows you away.

It’s Viktor. He's here, he's alive.

He’s changed.

His body is a mixture of purple flesh and bits of metal. His face has been left untouched, his hair grown out with some pieces ombréing to a blond at the bottom. His eyes a kaleidoscope of colours, but when he looks at you they're predominantly gold. Like before the accident.

His smile is warm, but small as he walks towards you. He no longer needs any assistive devices.

He's beautiful.

“Darling, you’re here. I didn't think I’d ever see you again.” His voice is a smooth purr as it rumbles out of him. You quirk an eyebrow and huff a bit, “You’re the one who left. I'm just coming back to get what's mine.”

Viktor's laugh is a small one, but genuine. His face changes slightly now, his expressiveness not as apparent as before. You'd be surprised if he hadn't changed. He did die.

But he's here now, and that's all that matters.

“I am yours, and you are mine. But I don't want to go back. What I'm doing here, it’s vital. It’s good. I'm finally able to help others.”

You smile lightly at the increasing passion in Viktor’s voice. He's hard-headed and stubborn. If he doesn't want to leave, he's not going to. But you're not certain if you can stay here. You're going to need a hospital at some point.

“Well, do you have a hidden healthcare team I don't know about?”

Viktor looks confused, “Why would I need a healthcare team? I heal everyone fully. There's no need for hospital workers here.”

“Well unless you want to deliver your baby yourself, I'm going to need a healthcare team here.”

Viktor pauses, his eyes wide as he scans over you intently. His eyes zero in on the small bump of your stomach.

His voice wavers, “You’re— you”

You calmly fill in the gaps for him, “I’m pregnant.”

Viktor's jaw drops a bit before he surges forward and kisses you passionately, his hands cupping your face. You gasp a bit and Viktor caresses your tongue with his, you wrap your arms around his tiny waist.

When the two of you pull back, your lips are puffy due to the intensity of the kiss, you're a bit out of breath, and Viktor is littering your neck with possessive hickeys.

“My lovely girl, you've come all this way to be with me, we’re having a baby. Oh my love this is great. You'll stay here. We’ll be happy. We’ll be safe. I'll never let you go now.”

He puts a hand possessively onto your stomach, cradling the bump. Your heart beats loudly into your ears. You're not sure how you feel, but the heated look Viktor gives you makes you shiver a bit.

“I’ve been wondering day in and day out if you'd ever come to me. If I'd see you again. I've been dreaming of you. Your voice, your hair, your skin, your touch. Now you're here, and growing an undeniable proof of our love. How I've missed you, how I've craved you.”

He kisses you once more, the passion almost overwhelming. His hands are warm, almost too warm. It feels like he's marking you, branding you. Your cheeks, down the sides of your neck, your waist, your hips. Each touch is electric, warm, and makes your head dizzy. It isn't until Viktor pulls away and smirks at you do you realize it wasn't metaphorical. He's literally branded you.

A kaleidoscope of colours merges beautifully with your skin, enhancing your cheekbones, the delicate lines of your neck, your collar bones, the dip of your waist, the flesh of your hips.

You’re undeniably Viktor’s. His marks are all over you. His hickeys, his brands, his seed growing in your womb.

You're his in every possible way. In mind, body, and soul.

And he is yours.

Viktor might’ve changed a bit, but he's still the same man you fell in love with all those years ago, and that's all that matters.

(except he changes once more when Jayce kills him. Will you stay with the Machine Herald, or had this final transformation pushed you two to the brink of collapse? You don't know this will happen, so you're content in your happy little bubble; for now.)

The amount of yandere asks I have for Viktor, y'all are thirsty for this man. Me too y'all so I'm not judging. A possessive obsessive Viktor is a wet dream ngl

#arcane #viktor arcane #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #viktor imagine #viktor x reader #fem!reader #banners by cafekitsune

264 notes · View notes

today-tastes-like-honey · 2 days ago

Text

They could kill him, presumably? He's the last absolute monarch on Earth, but that also means that his successor is also the absolute monarch; the Vatican's bureaucracy is not really large enough to have rogue agents willing to take down the deep state or whatever due to the fact that there's a figurative seven citizens. But it is nevertheless an independent jurisdiction! As long as it isn't public enough that everyone knows (whoops he fell down the stairs! tragic! anyway let's elect his successor who doesn't want to abolish this old rule / think gay people don't go to hell by default / hope hell is empty / annoy the cardinals in some other way), he's in kind of the same situation that absolute monarchs have been in since time immemorial, namely "oh fuck I am the only authority in this country", except nowadays he can't even publically execute his rivals anymore to scare dissenters.

The pope having work related stress is crazy to me. Bro you know that shit is fake.

971 notes · View notes

thewidowsledger · 1 day ago

Text

Closer

Pairings: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x SHIELD Detective!Female Reader

Word count: 8k

Tags | Warnings: +18 smut, angst, top!Wanda, bottom!reader, Wanda being a perv criminal, fingering (r), enchanted strap (r), dubcon, breeding kink, pregnancy, comic/tarot reading inaccuracies (I did try my best searching about them), jealousy if you squint, friendzoned!Nat

Author's note: This is set after the MoM, Wanda being stuck on Earth-818, where she is a multiversal criminal after killing the Illuminati—the planet's mightiest heroes. Title inspired from the song Closer by NIN. I have another a/n at the end of the fic.

Navigation | Masterlist

ᱬ

"Do you know this girl?"

Wanda lets out a small huff, then leans on the table, her sore cuffed hands resting on the cold surface.

"I'll tell you if you tell me what color those pretty little panties of yours are."

ᱬ

She had killed the Illuminati, the very protectors of your universe. You couldn't understand why she would go after them, they were the ones who were keeping your universe safe and sound. It seemed that the only reason she had for doing this was to gain more power somehow and that's the only thing you got as of now.

But you couldn't help but wonder if she's up to something…more or personal? If she isn't after more power, then what is she up to? She could be plotting something far more sinister than anyone could imagine.

Or something she just lost.

As you stand in front of the interrogation room door, your heart is pounding fast, your hands are cold and your breathing hitched.

"I'll get you to talk." You murmured to yourself.

You then took a deep breath before signaling the agents that you are ready, then you watched as the door slowly opened before you. Sitting behind a desk facing you was the most wanted criminal on your planet.

As you stepped inside you examined her, you noticed that her body was covered in a number of devices which were meant to restrain her from using her magical powers. There's something on her temple, something that looked like an electric device. She also had the same thing collared around her neck and in her cuffed hands, you also took note of her blackened fingers. But both her feet seem to be free and in full display. She seemed to be unfazed by all the devices though, despite the fact she looks restrained in almost all parts of her body.

You were one of the top detectives in your field, but you had never seen any of this stuff, let alone be in a high security room with the most wanted criminal in your universe.

"Worried about me? Detective?" She asked as if she could read your mind.

"Comfortable with those on your body?" You huffed lightly, you hoped that you were able to keep a straight face while asking that question. You were doing your best to keep your cool, but it wasn't easy with her looking at you like that. "Sadly, you can only have those removed if you cooperate with me."

Wanda's face started to form a smirk before letting out a small chuckle as if to torment you even more. It was as if she knew exactly what kind of effect she was having on you.

"What about you? I don't think those clothes are comfortable on you…" she spoke with a wolfish grin, "want me to remove them?"

You force yourself to look away from Wanda, your heart rate slightly elevated. You take a deep, subtle breath, trying to compose yourself completely, focusing instead on your mission. There is no room for any distractions right now.

But God, this woman is a breathing distraction.

"Wanda Maximoff, is that your name?" you started, putting down the files you were pretending to fix a while back.

"Yes."

"Where are you from, Wanda?"

Silence.

You pressed on with the same question rephased, "Could you tell me where exactly you came from?"

She still didn't respond. Her eyes were like ice, cold and emotionless. You sighed disappointingly that now made the woman curve her lips upward.

Now, you began to lay out the facts, "You're not from here," you stated. "We've figured that one out. You're not from our universe and you killed our heroes." You slid a photo in front of her, the sound of the paper touching the cold metal table. "Do you know who that is?" It was a cropped photo of her. She was wearing a sweater and wide pants. She had a soft and gentle expression on her face, unlike the cold and emotionless looks she had been giving you so far. You observed how she looked at the photo and there is something you can't put a finger on her expression as she stared at it—jealousy?

"That's me."

"Wrong," you said firmly. You saw her eyes shot through you faster than the lightning. You were pleased that you were finally getting some sort of reaction from her. You could tell that you had caught her off guard. It seems like she wasn't used to being contradicted like this, you'll take note of that.

As a detective, if you cannot get an answer from your culprit you will get a reaction out of them. It was a fun game for you.

You held up another photo, before sliding it down on the table. This one is a closeup shot of her looking eye to eye at one of the monitors of Illuminati headquarters that was recovered. She was covered in blood and her eyes were glowing red.

The photo that has been haunting you since this case was given to you.

She just stared at it like a mirror. Then slowly, she began to tilt her head to the side, imitating the pose in the photo—taunting you. You could feel her eyes piercing into your soul.

Before you could lose yourself at her stare, you slammed your fingers down the photos. "This is not you, this is the Wanda Maximoff of this universe." You pointed at the photo of her variant with the soft and gentle expression on her face. You slid it towards you before grabbing the photo that is left, which was a photo of her showering in blood, "This…this is you."

Silence.

"Happy," you flick the photo of the happy Wanda. "And miserable." You pout, putting down the bloody Wanda in front of her.

Well, your tactics seemed to be not working. Because silence is all you got.

You took a deep breath and spoke again, trying to keep your frustration in check. "I'm going to ask you again, why are you here in my universe?" You stared at her expectantly, hoping for some kind of response this time. But Wanda remained silent, her face impassive as she stared back at you.

You were just starting, you just got here for like twenty minutes. Usually, during this part of interrogation you aren't frustrated yet unless you didn't have your pack of gummies before you started. You still should be cool and calm, but right now? You don't think you are at all.

She seemed to relish in your frustration. Taking pleasure in watching you struggle to get a straight answer out of her. This only added to your growing annoyance, making you wonder how long you could keep up this interrogation without losing your temper completely.

"Don't breathe too hard, detka."

You swear to your dead grandparents, you are going to lose it.

Your face flushed red like a fool, stomach was in knots as you tried to ignore the growing feeling of something you will slap yourself about.

Now, you managed to compose yourself back again, it's your turn to be silent. Fun games for you to play—the silent game where you'll sit on your chair while the culprit moves themselves in every way they could think of, walk, sit on the floor until their ass gets sore while you sit comfortably on your chair and this will go on for long painful hours. You've got to have years of training before you can master it.

So you sat comfortably, not saying anything. You waited to see what she would say or do next. But it seems like she was playing a waiting game as well, trying to see who would break first.

The two of you only sat in silence but the tension was too obvious in the small suffocating metal room.

You looked up from your file folder over and over again, taking notes of everything you got so far and that is the unknown name she had given you—detka. Now, you blinked as you realized how much time had passed. Your eyes shifted to Wanda and you noticed that she was tapping her blackened fingers impatiently on the table. It was clear that she was growing restless.

Good, you told yourself before getting back to your papers. One thing you're sure about is you have been here over and over, you had sat in a small cramped room for ten to twenty four hours half of your life. You're used to it. You do it for a living.

You'll last longer than she will.

"Detective Y/L/N, we got something for you." You heard through the comms of the suffocating room.

You got up and went to the door, waiting as a folder was delivered through a small opening of the door. As you walked back to the table, you couldn't shake off the feeling that Wanda was watching you intently. You tried to ignore it, focusing on the folder in front of you. But the weight of her gaze made the hairs on your neck rise. You glanced up at her, and sure enough, she was staring at you, a smirk written all over her face.

"It's quite disappointing I am not unwrapping something," she commented suggestively as she watched you unwrap the manila envelope on your hands. Then, her gaze drifted up to your lips and to your chest, your cleavage showing slightly on your low cut blouse that seemed to be taunting her from the moment you had stepped into the room.

Your jaw tensed as you tried to ignore the effect her nonsense comments were having on you, you tried to remain focused and professional, but you couldn't deny the heat building between your thighs.

You shame yourself.

You crossed your legs awkwardly, trying to conceal your discomfort. Wanda's smirk only grew wider when she noticed your movement. You could feel her eyes on you, and you wondered if she could tell how this back-and-forth was affecting you. Your mind raced, trying to come up with a way to regain control of the situation without giving her any more satisfaction. So you just decided to shift the focus of the conversation back to the interrogation. You examined a photo of a young girl wearing a denim jacket, taking note of a slight glow on her knuckles before showing it to Wanda.

"Do you know this girl?"

Wanda lets out a small huff, then leans on the table, her sore cuffed hands resting on the cold surface.

"I'll tell you if you tell me what color those pretty little panties of yours are."

"Who is this man?" you pushed another photo towards her that you weren't even able to see first just so you could dismiss her painful teasing, hoping to shift the conversation back to your hands because clearly, it's in hers.

"You want answers? Come on, detective, it's a simple question. Red? Black? Maybe something a little more innocent, like pin—"

"If stupidity is the only thing that will come out of your dirty mouth, then don't talk to me or don't speak, at all." You finally snapped, "I had asked you simple questions as well but I think you're too dumb to answer them since you're all silent." You knew that this was a low blow, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratification as you threw her own words back at her.

But still, you didn't last long.

You gathered the papers, folders, and envelopes in front of you, you couldn't help but feel Wanda's venomous glare burning into you. When you glanced up at her, you gulped by the sight of her face. Her expression was a picture of barely contained fury, suddenly feeling like prey being stalked by a predator—like the photo of her showering in blood. You immediately avoided her fiery gaze, you swore you saw it flicker red. You shake your head and take a hold of your documents.

You couldn't believe she had gotten the best of you in this interrogation and you only got defeated and frustrated. All you can do is huff, straightening your collar and smoothing your hair as you try to regain a sense of composure and the little shame that this investigation left you. You glanced towards the two-way mirror, knowing that the other agents and your colleagues were watching this whole ordeal unfold. They watched as you got humiliated by this multiversal criminal.

Taking a deep breath, you spoke up, your voice firm and decisive. "I think I am done here," you said, signaling them to open the door for you. But before you could even step outside, Wanda suddenly spoke up, her voice cutting through the tension in the room like a knife.

"It's not stupidity if it's all true," her words dripping with a cold and thick accent you are not familiar with that sent shivers down your spine.

You knit your brows together but you didn't turn around because you knew you would only see the annoying smirk plastered on her face.

"Victoria's secret, it's lacy and has a floral pattern, scarlet. And it's wet."

You clenched your jaw tightly, your nostrils flaring in anger. Now, you felt violated and humiliated, she had really gotten under your skin in a way that no one else had ever managed before.

As the door shut behind you, you felt a sense of relief at finally getting some distance from her, and you took a few deep breaths to try and calm yourself down—a routine you usually do.

"You okay?" Natasha immediately asked, removing her leather jacket and placing it on your shoulders, "I swear, allow me to do this."

Wanda rose from her chair and tried her best to stretch, trying to pop and shift some bones in her restrained neck and her back. Her movements were slow and deliberate, as if she was savoring the moment. Then, she walked towards the one-way glass mirror.

"No, Nat. If I allow that to happen one of you will come out in that room in a body bag." You walked to put your files down briefly staring at Wanda who was now hovering closely to the mirror.

Natasha then grabbed you by your right arm, her face dangerously close on yours. She clearly didn't like how this multiversal criminal talked to you. "And who do you think that will be?" Natasha asked intimidatingly.

You just huffed playfully, rolling your eyes on her making Natasha let out a few laugh.

"Are you sure those devices are really working on her?"

"Well, we don't know where she's from or what entity she really is. So we don't really know what else she can do," Natasha said and you already know that fact. "As of now it is the highest and most secure restraining device that they have. At least that's what they told me. Why?"

Well, you don't think it is working or restraining her powers at all.

Natasha didn't speak as if she already knew what's going on in your mind. "So it's true?"

"What is?" You asked as you crouched down to your bag, stuffing all the heavy documents you had dragged to and fro wherever you go.

"What she said."

"Natasha, she said nothing but taunt and—"

"Eye fuck you, yes."

Humiliate, humiliate is what you were going to say.

"The last thing she said, was it true?"

Natasha's question hung in the air, you found yourself frozen in place, your mind racing to come up with an appropriate response. You then slowly turned around and your eyes first landed on Wanda. You still have no idea if she can hear or see everything despite her being locked inside, but you can see her staring right at you as if she can see you through the one-way mirror. Now, you are both staring at each other even with the glass standing against the two of you.

Guess there is only one way to find out.

"Why don't you drop by later and find out, agent?"

You stepped back, almost like a flinch as you watched Wanda hit the mirror with her cuffed hands, her jaw shaking and her eyes flickering with a terrifying red glow, as if the rage within her had taken on a life of its own.

Now that you know how much effect you have on her, and how you figured out how she plays—you will play her game with your own hands.

Play the game or the game plays you.

ᱬ

Your fingers flew over the keyboard of your laptop as you delved into the files that had been recovered from the headquarters of the Illuminati. The video footage was particularly compelling, showing Wanda's abilities at their most devastating. You watched in horror as she unleashed a barrage of powerful magic, tearing through the ranks of the Illuminati with ease.

Black Bolt was killed having his mouth covered.

Captain Carter was cut in half with her shield.

Reed Richard was grated to death.

Photon was blasted with her own powers and was crushed by a statue.

And Professor X's neck was snapped by Wanda after what you think was a telepathic duel.

"Why did you do all this, Wanda Maximoff?" You whispered to yourself.

You knew that what had happened there was unprecedented and that the implications were far-reaching. Another set of evidence was given to you stating where this multiversal criminal was, Earth-616—from a different reality. With the Illuminati gone, multiversal travel was impossible, and the potential for catastrophic consequences seemed to loom around every turn with her being in your reality.

You watched another video footage of a young girl who was clearly in the throes of something far beyond her control. The way she was running and in a second she was being consumed by a star-figured portal she made herself, as if her own power was turning on her, devouring her from within.

A theory now begins to take shape in your mind. You theorized that perhaps Wanda was here in your universe because of the young girl. But again, it would always fall back onto why Wanda killed your world's mightiest heroes.

"Think, Y/N. C'mon."

As a seasoned detective, you couldn't help but consider all angles and possibilities. Then, another theory popped, what if Wanda used the girl to get to your universe? But the question that nagged at you this time was why she would do such a thing. What was her motive? Was she trying to escape from her own universe or did she have some greater purpose in mind? The uncertainty of it all made your mind tangle, as you desperately tried to piece together the puzzle that was Wanda Maximoff of Earth-616.

"What do you want?" You whispered, your gaze was locked repeating the footage of Wanda going on to Illuminati one by one.

ᱬ

"Thank you for meeting me."

Wanda nodded in acknowledgement, as she locked the door of the cafe behind you. You carefully watched her actions and movements as you followed her. And as a detective yourself it was your nature to observe and it was clear that she was a bit nervous, a far cry from the confident and aggressive that is her variant.

She led you to a small table for two, as you two finally settled in, you spoke.

"So, uhm. I'm detective Y/N and I think you kno—"

"I-I know who you are, I know what happened," Wanda interjected, cutting you off mid-sentence. Her tone was sharp and clipped, as if she had already anticipated your attempt to broach the topic of the devastating events that had transpired within the week. "You don't need to repeat it all over again," she said with finality.

It was all over the news for days now, hell it would be for the next few years. The death of the World's mightiest heroes and footage of the one who killed them, which was her—not technically her but her variant from another universe.

"I have received threats and so are my children. I had to close my shop since then," your gaze darted around the surroundings. Before you got in, you'd seen the words "murderer, witch, killer, anti-hero," painted on the shop's windows in bold, aggressive strokes.

"But…I have nothing to do with it," Wanda's voice trembled with emotion, you could hear the undeniable anguish in her words. "There would be times that I can't control my powers and it frightens me. My body was present but my mind was something else...someone else," she continued, her voice growing fainter, almost like a distant echo. "I had glimpses of a star…more like a portal, a shattered mirror and a book. But it's…I swear, it's not me I have nothing to do with it."

"Hey, it's—" you carefully edge in. But she quickly stopped you.

"No, I want to get this over with. I just want my children to be safe." She looked at you with glossy eyes. She looks so tired and defeated. "I used to dream every night," she continued, her words tumbling out rapidly, "I was…I was happy, I was with my children, I was in control of everything. But then it's gone. I put my kids to sleep then everything slowly started to disappear, I watched it. I watched everything I created, everything I loved disappear right in front of me."

"You lost your children…" you whispered unintentionally.

"Not me, I'm with my children," Wanda shook her head lightly before looking at you.

"It's not you who lost them…"

It struck you deeply, and suddenly, the pieces started to fall into place.

"What we see in our dreams are what is happening on our alternative selves. They may not be our exact selves, but they're our counterparts from different universes, and when we sleep, we inadvertently tap into their experiences."

"H-how sure are you about that?"

"I came to my old mentor, I told her everything about it. She might give you better answers than I do, I stopped learning more about my powers since I retired," She paused briefly, her gaze dropping to the ground. "Besides, I…I'm just a sitting duck variant here."

"Hey—" you blinked when she handed you a piece of paper. Stopping your attempt to comfort once again.

"I don't need it. Here is the address if you still need answers. That's all I can give you."

She stood and you panicked, you hurried after her. As she reached the door, she turned to face you for a brief moment, her expression unreadable. Before you could utter a polite goodbye, she had already shut the door behind you, leaving you standing in the cold street.

You took an exasperated sigh, then, you quickly pulled out your phone and dialed Natasha's number, asking her to send some SHIELD agents to keep an eye on Wanda and her kids for protection. After the call, you felt lost, it's like you're close to hitting a brick wall, but then you remembered the paper Wanda gave you.

"This sounds like a sham."

ᱬ

"What are you doing here in our universe?" Natasha asked for God knows how many times now. But Wanda remained silent.

She unbuttons her suit jacket, revealing her holstered gun. She watches Wanda's silent form, she is unfazed—unthreatened. She wishes you were here, with how easily you extracted information just using your eyes and laughter. How your disarming smiles could crack even the hardest facades, including hers.

"Was I right?" Natasha freezes, surprised by Wanda's sudden voice.

"What?" Natasha responds sharply, trying to hide her shock. "What did you say?" She watches Wanda closely. Her eyes are no longer empty. They're stormy and intense. "Right about what?"

"C'mon you know what I am talking about." Wanda's eyes crinkled to the side. And Natasha's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the smirk, remembering the last thing this criminal had said about you before you got out of the first interrogation. Natasha catches herself slowly smirking as well before she can stop it, leaning back confidently in her chair. She hoped this play of hers would look natural.

"Not going to lie, it was impressive 'cause you were right about it. Saw it upclose, it was black, lacy Victoria's Secret, and it's wet—for me."

"It's red." Wanda immediately corrected, the colors of Natasha's face started to drain in embarrassment. "Dark red," She emphasizes, "Almost burgundy, like wine...or blood." She grins mischievously, enjoying how the agent in front of her clenched her jaw.

Natasha intended for it to look like she indeed saw what you were wearing that day. You even told her to come to your place and find out even though she knew it was just a play to get something out of this criminal, only for the two of you to do nothing but investigate and investigate. She even bought wine! But since then you had made it clear to her, that you two cannot be a thing—that she's just a friend.

"Listen here, you twisted criminal," Natasha strided and grabbed Wanda by the collar of her prison suit, pulling her closer. "Try to disrespect her like that once again, you will never be back in your universe again."

Wanda laughed despite Natasha's threat. "In just one snap I can go through your mind and see the very not-so-respectful things your twisted brain has thought of doing to your boss," she spoke calmly, unfazed by Natasha's grip on her collar and how close their faces were to each other.

"Give me your boss or you'll get nothing from me."

ᱬ

You find yourself standing in front of a quaint, old-fashioned shop, nestled between two larger buildings. The sign above the door reads "Madam Calderu's Psychic Readings" in a flowery, Victorian script. As you push open the heavy wooden door, a bell chimes merrily, announcing your arrival. The shop is dimly lit, filled with an eclectic mix of incense burners, crystal balls on a small, round table.

Before you can take in your surroundings properly, you hear a sudden scream.

Your hand goes for your holster, gun drawn instinctively. The woman freezes, seeing the gun pointed at her. "Wait!" She throws up her hands, the shawl falling back to reveal a middle-aged woman with sharp features and piercing dark eyes. The woman's gaze locks onto yours, and for a moment, it's as if she's peering right through you, seeing something that only she can comprehend. Her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a step closer, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper.

"You…"

Taking a deep breath, she forces a calming smile. "I apologize, dear. You just gave me quite the surprise. Please, have a seat. I am Madam Calderu."

Even though something about this feels off—hell, everything about this feels off, you holster your gun and take a seat at the nearest table. The smooth wood is cool to the touch, just like her hands when she places them palm-up on the table.

"What's your name, dear?"

Her eyes seem to pierce through you as she awaits your response. There's a strange intensity to her gaze, like she's trying to unravel the very fabric of your existence.

"Y/N…" you were about to get your badge to show her that you are a detective but she gently stopped you.

"Y/N, no need for that," She repeats softly as if she already knows what you really are.

The goosebumps you're feeling made you want to finish whatever this is. "I am here about Wanda Maximoff."

"Which one?" She asks, laying out a spread of cards you thought are tarot cards across the table.

"What? Wh-what do you mean which one? Hey I-I am not here for that." You rushed out, but she already flipped a card.

"The Fool. Bare…untouched, pure." You cringe slightly, what a nice way to say you are a virgin…which you truly are. "You are going to bring a new life."

"W-what?"

She turned to another card that was placed vertically. "The Hermit. You're in deep search for something. The Devil, upright. You are bound...constrained by circumstances beyond your control." Another card was flipped. "The Empress Meaning, upright. You are a vessel…meant to contain something immense, powerful. But you're unprepared. A fragile container for a force that could shatter you at any moment."

The last card made her eyes widened as she saw the image—a hanged man suspended upside down from a tree, with his right foot bound and his left foot free. "Someone is after you…" She mutters under her breath, then she looks at you who was in a deep frown, images of something red…a crown, something powerful flashed her mind that made her scream. You immediately took a hold of her hands with yours, as if you pulled her out of her nightmare, she stopped screaming but she was breathing hard.

"You wait here, young lady." She stood, shaking as she rushed from her seat disappearing through the string curtains.

The room grows silent again as you wait for Madame Calderu to return. Your phone suddenly rings, making you jump slightly. You pull it out, seeing Natasha's number.

"Romanoff."

"She wants you."

Realizing what she meant, you shifted on your seat in frustration. "Romanoff, I told you not to…" you didn't finish, sighing defeatedly knowing that scolding Natasha would get you nowhere. She had always been like this, stubborn and would sometimes go against you and your higher ups. "I'll be there." You say, ending the call and tucking the phone back into your pocket.

Madam Calderu came rushing back with a wooden rectangular sigil in her hand only to see a 20 dollar bill on top of the table.

You were gone.

ᱬ

"Y/N, I'm sorry." Natasha followed you behind as you strided toward the interrogation room. You have not been giving her any words or any blink of an eye as you arrived. And she has been apologizing, following you around like a lost puppy.

"I want you out of this case, Romanoff. This is not the only time you went against my orders." You say with finality before disappearing behind the door of the interrogation room, not wanting to hear any of her reactions.

You took deep breaths before you turned around and saw how the criminal had been staring at you. She was wearing a wolfish grin, elbows on top of the table while her cuffed hands together were in the air.

"How are you holding up?" You asked, much calmer like you were the first time.

"I'm good, detective." She said, simply. "I'm good now that you're here."

"I could say that." You quipped, making her let out a few chuckles that made your stomach flutter.

"I didn't like the attitude you have the last time we saw each other."

"Well, I didn't like how you didn't cooperate with me."

Wanda smirks teasingly, her black fingernails tapping against the metal table. "I missed you, detective," she purrs softly, her voice dropping an octave. She manspread her legs slightly under the table, unnoticed by you.

You respond in a neutral tone, your expression giving nothing away. "I could say that," you repeated, never breaking eye contact with the criminal.

She chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She leans forward slightly, the movement subtle yet intentional. "Didn't you miss me too?" She just threw you a bone, looking for a reaction—any reaction. She watches your face carefully, eyes picking up every tiny muscle twitch. She sees your jaw tighten slightly, your shoulders stiffen. She notes how you never left her gaze, how you keep your voice neutral and unreadable.

But then, you remained composed. Chuckling but you didn't give any response to her question, instead you answered with a question yourself.

"Wanda, have you had dreams?"

She frowned before huffing softly, but failed to hide the slight uptick in her lips. She leans back slightly, her gaze drifting away before slowly returning to meet yours.

"It's here, right in front of me."

As Wanda answered, a smirk tugged at the corners of your mouth draws Wanda's attention back to your face. She sees the genuine smile hiding behind the smirk, and it makes her pause. She's not used to seeing genuine smiles, especially not directed at her. Wanda's eyes linger on your smile, her gaze seeming to drink in the sight. She notices the way your indifference during the first interrogation melts away, replaced by something warmer. Something that makes Wanda's heart skip a beat.

"Have you lost someone?" You asked another question, much personal this time. But silence was the only answer you got back from Wanda. You expected for it to not work for now but you know that eventually, later on, you will get something out from her—you will make her say something.

"I used to have dreams, Wanda." When the words escape your lips, you see Wanda's eyes widen slightly, hanging onto each word. "I dream of my kids, and I dream about losing them every single time." You continued. Your dreams have become a nightly ritual, an obsession. Every night, you relive the same scene, sitting on the couch, surrounded by laughter, playful shouts and calls for you—their mommy. You're surrounded by your children, their faces blurry but their joy unmistakable. And then, next thing you know is you're awake in an empty bed, no signs of your children.

"Every time?" She asks, already knowing the answer.

You hesitate, then nod. "Like clockwork. I see them, hear them. They feel so real…" You trail off, smiling at the memories. "Then they're gone." You add softly, unconsciously wrapping your arms around yourself. Wanda swallows hard, her fingers twitching slightly. "It's funny because I don't even want kids, but after those dreams, when I wake up the first thing I expect to see is them beside me."

As she sits there, watching you wrestle with the ghosts of your dream children, she feels an unfamiliar pull. She's seen the same thing in her own dreams—blurry faces, laughter that turns to silence.

"Every night the same dream, every morning the same nightmare." She murmured under her breath.

For the first time since you've seen her, Wanda's mask completely slips.

"I can say the same, Y/N. I've lost people I loved…but I am here to get them back now."

Bingo.

Wanda blinks, momentarily taken aback as she watches you rise, a flicker of confusion passing over her face.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Wanda." You say before disappearing, leaving her alone in the cold room.

ᱬ

Later that night, as the prison settles into a quiet routine, you find yourself back at your apartment.

You pour yourself a glass of wine, the cool liquid sliding down your throat as you relax on your couch. This case has been tough, but tonight, you finally made a huge progress. She had opened up, shown emotion. You smile smugly to yourself, confident that tomorrow, with your newfound insight, you'll finally break the case wide open.

You finish your glass of wine, feeling tired. You've had a long day of investigating and interrogating. You let out a breath, your body relaxing as you slide into bed in your silk nightgown. You close your eyes, ready for sleep. But you felt dizzy. As the room spins around you, suddenly, unmistakably, you hear it—laughter. The clear, joyous laughter of children echoes through your darkened bedroom. Your eyes fly open, but the sound doesn't stop. It surrounds you, bouncing off the walls, growing louder.

Figures begin to take shape right before your eyes. Two boys—the same children from your dreams. They're laughing, their faces fully visible this time, and they're reaching out their little hands towards you.

"Mommy!" You laugh, reaching to them.

But then, in an instant their laughter turns cold, their smiles disappearing as they hiss, "Mommy, go away! Run, Mommy, run!" They push you back, their small hands shoving you towards the bed. You saw a glowing figure just outside your door, a woman with horns in her head—glowing red.

Your kids continued to scream, "Run! Mommy!"

Your heart was pounding in your chest, you wrapped your arms around your children, pulling them close. You can feel their small bodies shaking, mirroring your own fear.

"Mommy, go." The first boy whispered.

"You have to go now, mommy." The other one said.

But you didn't let go of them. The footsteps grew louder and the figure was just right beside your bed. Blocking out the light on the hallway of your room.

You jolt upright in bed, your nightgown damp with sweat. You pant, looking around your room. No children, no figure. Just you and your phone ringing loud.

"Y/N," Maria's voice is tight, "Wanda escaped. We don't know how but we need you here. Now."

"2800 Sherwood Street, Eastview." You rattled out. Your heart pounds in your ears as you stand still. "Maria, 616 is after 818's kids, she might be on her way to get them now. Target is the variant Wanda of Earth-616. Presumed armed and dangerous. Objective: Contain and capture." You stood, walking to where your closet is, "Eliminate if you have to." You ended the call swiftly, pulling on your tactical gear—bulletproof vest, cargo pants, combat boots out of your cabinet.

When you were about to get undressed, there was a figure that loomed over your room's doorway. You can't be wrong but it was the same figure you saw in your dreams just a while back. A woman with little horns, glowing red.

As you sweep the hallway, you think you're alone. But then, a movement catches your eye—a shadow darting between rooms. You turned around, gun raised, heart pounding. "Who's there?" You call out, voice echoing through the empty house. Then, a shadow appeared right at the end of your hallway and it started crawling to your direction. Without thinking, you spin around and dash back to your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you. You lock it immediately, and aim your gun straight at the door as you step back.

You felt an energy behind you so you whirl around, gun still pointed at the air, only to find yourself face to face with the towering figure. It looms over you, the red light pulsing violently. Your hands tremble slightly as you raise the gun higher, aiming at the center of the shadowy mass. You gasp, eyes widening as you recognize the features hidden beneath the glowing shadow.

"W-Wanda?" Your voice is barely a whisper.

Her blackened fingers extend, reaching to the gun aiming at her and it disappears in a flash of dark energy. Before you could react, she snapped and in an instant you were up in the air. An unseen force lifts you off the ground, suspending you in mid-air with an invisible restraint tying your feet and hands. You struggle, legs kicking uselessly as you float higher but her eyes glow with an intensity you've never seen before, almost burning with the red energy that surrounds her. She watches you like a predator eyeing its prey—calculated, intense, and completely focused.

"Miss me?"

"What are you doing?" You manage to choke out, heart is now hammering to get out of your chest as you stare into her glowing eyes. Her appearance is disturbing; she wears a crown that looks like horns, and a suit that looks like it was drenched in blood. The red energy seems to be seeping from her very pores. Her features are still beautiful, but twisted into something dark and terrifying.

"To get what I lost."

Your frown deepens as you process her words.

Then, a chill laughter escaped her lips. "I thought you already figured it out, detective," she says mockingly, her voice dripping with condescension. "You're supposed to be the smart one. The one who sees through every lie and unravels every mystery." She leans in closer, her face inches from yours as you elevate in the air. "But you've got it all wrong."

Your mind races, trying desperately to connect the dots. Your detective mind isn't working at the moment and she tilts her head, studying your baffled expression with cruel amusement. Her blackened fingers gently caress your cheek, tracing the line of your jaw. "You really don't get it, do you?" She murmurs, her touch icy cold. Her fingers started to caress your stomach. "Let me give you a hint...what's the same thing we lost every time we close our eyes?"

Your kids. Her kids.

You shake your head, trying to clear the confusion. "But…I-I don't have your kids, Wanda."

"Oh, you will." Her voice drops to a threatening whisper as she snaps her fingers again. In an instant, you find yourself falling backward onto your bed, the familiar indentation of your pillow against your head. Wanda begins to crawl up your body, her blackened fingers digging into the blankets, pulling her closer. Her face hovers above yours, her twisted crown casting ominous shadows on the walls. "Now, let's make them, shall we?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, praying desperately that this is all just a nightmare. But as Wanda's cold hands begin to roam over your chest, pulling the knots of your nightgown, you realize with a sinking heart that this is no dream. This is terrifyingly, undeniably real.

"Open your eyes."

A shiver runs down your spine as the cold air hits your bare skin. You have nothing under your nightgown, just your lacy panties. You're exposed, vulnerable, lying naked beneath her. She takes a moment to admire the sight, her red eyes burning with a fierce intensity. "I knew you're more beautiful without clothes," she murmurs, tracing a finger down your chest. She then squeezes them roughly, pinching your nipples between her fingers until you gasp in pain. Her other hand reaches up to grab your throat, squeezing tightly as she attacks your chest with a frenzy of kisses and bites.

You arch your back in pain as Wanda's cold hands maul your breasts, her fingers digging into your flesh like claws. Her hand around your throat tightens, cutting off your air supply as she nuzzles her face between your breasts, inhaling your scent deeply. Your body goes limp beneath hers. You spread your legs wider, letting her settle deeper between your thighs. Your arms lift up, wrapping around her neck possessively. You whimper softly as she bites down hard on your collarbone.

Her fingers slip beneath the lacy fabric of your underwear and immediately find their way inside your warmth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, her skin so cold it burns against your sensitive flesh. She begins to move her fingers in and out of you brutally, ignoring your cries. She silences you with a brutal kiss, her cold fingers continuing their relentless assault on your insides. Her thumb finds your clit, pressing down hard as she forces another finger inside you. You feel yourself stretching to accommodate her blackened fingers, your body trembling with a mix of pain and pleasure.

You should be fighting, clawing, biting, anything to make her stop. Instead, you find yourself wrapping your legs around her waist, pulling her closer as she invades your cunt with cold, blackened fingers.

Letting her darkness in.

"Hng Wanda..." You whimpered.

She smirks wickedly as she hears you cry out her name, your pleasured gasps mingling with anguished moans. Her eyes glitter with cruel triumph. "Say my name again," she commands.

"W-Wanda…" You stuttered.

Then, she curled her fingers inside you agonizingly slow, hitting that perfect spot. "Louder."

"Fuck! Wanda!"

Just as you're about to release the coil on your stomach, she pulls her fingers out of you suddenly, leaving you gaping and empty. You whimper in protest, but before you can even process what's happening, she shoves two of her blackened fingers into your mouth instead.

"Suck."

Magic crackles in the air as Wanda presses her blackened fingers against your lips, demanding obedience. Shimmering sparks dance before your eyes before you reluctantly close them, submitting as your mouth envelops her fingers. The metallic taste of chaos magic and your wetness coats your tongue, making you shudder.

She pulls her fingers free from your mouth, leaving behind trails of dark magic. Kneeling between your legs, she lets you see the crimson strap-on secured around her waist—it looked so real, enchanted.

As you finally register what's happening, adrenaline shoots through your veins. Your body goes instantly rigid, eyes wide with realization and fear.

"No..." you whimper, trying to close your legs, but she holds them firmly open with her knees. The alarm bells in your mind scream to fight back.

With a cruel smile, she rips your delicate underwear to shreds, discarding the remains aside. She grabs your thighs tightly, spreading your legs as far apart as they'll go. The enchanted strap-on hangs between her legs, the chaos runes pulsing with dark energy.

"It's time to make what we lost."

She rubs the tip against your wet entrance, coating it with your arousal. You watch in horror as she throws her head back, moaning softly. "You're so tight, around my cock," she hisses, gripping your hips. Without warning, she snaps her hips forward, burying the entire length inside you brutally. She shushes your cries, her free hand caressing your cheek, kissing your forehead soothingly as she continues to brutally thrust the strap-on into you with each heartbeat. With every painful push, you let out a little whimper, your body trembling beneath hers.

"It hurts, Wanda…" you sobbed.

"I know, detka." She placed her forehead against yours before kissing them again, her thumb gently stroking your cheek as she continued to ravage you with the cock. "It's supposed to hurt." She murmurs against your forehead, "This pain will remind you who you belong to now." As she continues to brutally thrust into you, she starts to feel pleasure from the enchanted device. The chaos runes absorb your pain and convert it into dark energy, feeding into Wanda. She moans softly, nuzzling your face, "You're hurting so nicely…" The pleasure builds inside her, her hips snapping forward with increased force, the strap-on plunging deeper into your torn and stretched flesh. She buries her face in your neck, kissing and biting your skin as she chases her orgasm. "I'm going to cum inside you, my love."

All you can feel is the relentless pain, your body bruised and your pussy battered by her cock. But despite the agony, you nod dumbly, willing to take whatever she gives you. "Yes, Wanda," you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse from crying. "Please, please."

She presses a palm firmly against your stomach, feeling the prominent bulge of the strap-on inside you. "Feel that, detka? Feel how deep I am?" She pants harshly, her hips grinding against yours. "You'll be filled with my cum, marked from the inside out."

"Then, we will never lose them again."

"Please…I don't wanna lose them again, Wanda. Please, give me my kids. G-give me your babies."

Your statement throws her over the edge. She groans loudly, her body tensing as she forces her cock deep inside you, releasing wave after wave of hot, enchanted seed. The chaos runes pulse dangerously, filling your womb with dark energy.

She collapses onto you, panting heavily as she caresses your stomach, feeling the warmth of her release inside you.

"Our kids…" she slipped out of you. Making you whimper from the empty feeling. Then, her hand slowly trailed down to your pussy, feeling the wetness of her cum mixing with yours as she pushed it back inside you.

"We'll never lose them again."

ᱬ

You blinked groggily as you stirred awake in your bedroom decorated in a vintage 1950s style. A silky nightgown slips off one shoulder as you sit up slowly. You stare at the two boys beside you, your heart swelling with love. And your dear wife, Wanda lies in between them, her hand protectively resting on the boys' backs, a soft smile on her sleeping face.

Feeling you're moving away, Wanda calls out softly, stirring in her sleep. "Hey, mommy." She carefully removes her arms from around the twins, ensuring they don't wake up.

"Hey." You greeted back, groaning as you finally managed to stand. Wanda immediately rounded the bed to get to you.

"Mmm, good morning, my love." Before you can say a word, she leans in to press a tender kiss to your lips. She took your hands as she sat back on the bed. Then, blackened fingers slide down to your swollen stomach, you laugh, guiding her head as she leans down to kiss your bump.

"Good morning, little one," she coos. "We can't wait to meet you soon."

—

Author's Note: This was supposed to have an angsty ending but I remember promising someone here to write a Wanda fic w happy ending.

I just want to inform everyone that this might be the last fic I will be posting. I will be on hiatus since I have been missing school a lot due to health issues and I need to keep up and get back on track. Every series/fics of mine will be put on hold for a while, but I promise that the first thing I'll post when I get back are updates on them. I'll see you all around :)))

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff au #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch au #scarlet witch

313 notes · View notes

3amfanfiction · 3 days ago

Text

Picture Perfect pt 2

Captain MacTavish's faulty memory leads him to believe you're his wife. He's come to bring you home.

cw: 2.7k, f!reader (he refers to you as 'wife'), home appropriation, unwelcome guests, abrupt ending

Part One

Johnny stared at the list in his hand and chuckled. It was filled with mundane items—hang up the shelf in the closet, fridge is making weird sounds, kitchen sink drains slow—and he knew immediately what your plan was. It was almost cute how you thought a little honey-do list was going to scare him away. As if he hadn't been looking for you for ages. As if he had any intention of letting you slip through his fingers now that you were within his grasp.

Turning to look at you he let a smile brighten his face, "It looks like we have quite a bit to do today, don't we?" He watched you squirm in place, shoulders straightening and rounding in intervals as you fought with yourself. You were so precious trying to act all tough. But not to worry. He was here now and he could be plenty tough for the both of you.

"I can take care of it if you want to go home," you tried, a spark of hope lighting up your pretty eyes at the prospect of him leaving. He watched your chin tilt up, a hint of stubbornness shining through before it was smothered once more.

What a perfect wife you were. He still wasn't sure why you had separated but it didn't matter anymore. Watching you try and act strong, try and convince him it was in his best interest to leave, was heady. He wanted to soak it all in. Every moment. Eat you up until there was nothing but bones remaining and then suck the marrow from them as well. And you thought drains were going to scare him away? It was laughable.

"And leave all this for you to take care of? What kind of husband would I be?" He watched your face fall at his response and almost broke out laughing. You'd never make it as a spy with every thought that went through your head on full display across your face. Endearing. "Come on, lets get started on this shelf."

You trudged after him with a dejected sigh as he walked towards the hallway, peeking through doors until he came to your bedroom. Taking a step inside he was hit by a wave of your scent, so much more concentrated in this room than it was throughout the rest of the house. He couldn't help the way his steps fumbled to a stop as he stood there and breathed you in, all the way to the bottom of his lungs.

How did you smell so good? He couldn't place the scent but it was burrowing into his brain, making a home between the synapses that were still firing. It was warm and light and welcoming and he couldn't get enough of it, taking deep, greedy drinks of it as he slotted the scent into the bucket he was quickly labeling 'home' in his mind.

Coming back to himself he stepped to the side to let you through the doorway. You inched past him, careful not to touch before directing him to your closet and the shelf that was sitting on the ground. He frowned at the distance you kept between the two of you, a there and gone expression as he made plans to ease you back into casual touch. This was no way for spouses to act.

"No one new in your life to help you get this set up?" he probed as he pulled out tools. He looked up at you from where he was crouched, peering at you with his best approximation of an honest question. You fought with yourself before answering—

—with a lie. "There's someone, he's just away on a business trip right now."

He'd done his due diligence before re-introducing himself into your life. Prior planning and all that shit. Price would've been so proud of him. He knew you were single. That you had been for a little while but had been making ends meet on your own. Truthfully this nebulous partner was better off not being around. Johnny was the bigger dog in this fight and he wasn't going to back down. You were his wife—for better or for worse.

"A business trip, huh?" he repeated, letting a hint of doubt color his tone while maintaining eye contact as you shifted on your feet. He held you in place for a moment more before releasing you graciously, "Well, I'll just have to meet him when he gets back."

"Ye-ah," you croaked, voice cracking on the word, "I'm sure he'd love that."

Johnny watched as you fought with yourself, trying to decide whether to stay and be subjected to his questions or leave him alone in your house. The need to keep an eye on him won out in the end. Better to know what he was doing than be blindsided at a later time.

You started with your walls firmly in place—raised and fortified against him and anything he could manage to say to sway you. But it was clear you hadn't been expecting the charm and easy way with words he had. He watched them poke holes in your defense. Each, you did that? garnering a bashful head nod. Every, this is really well done, love, lowering your reservations. One piece at a time. He used his words like weapons, precision strikes aimed at your guard, working towards softening you up to him. It was clear you hadn't taken into account his flirty nature when you were planning on keeping him at arms length.

The first half of the morning went by much the same. Conversation never ceasing although there were times you certainly wished it would. He had a way of knowing exactly what to ask to make you squirm and he exploited it with abandon, chasing your stuttering explanations and wide-eyed looks of panic. The first real hiccup came when he asked you to go to the hardware store with him around noon.

I think I'll stay here.

Nothing he could say would sway you, you were adamant about staying home. He even sweetened the pot—promising a questions for a question the whole ride, you could ask anything you'd like. But no. You wouldn't be going with him. You'd stay and wait.

He accepted your decision but that marked the end of the free-flowing information.

When he got back the conversations continued—he never was one to sit by quietly when he could be flirting with a beautiful person—but there was a marked difference from the conversations of the morning. No longer did he give you peeks at his history since you'd been gone. He kept those tightly buried and manipulated the conversations back around to you, keeping the focus off him.

He watched you get more and more frustrated with every run-around. Something close to glee bubbling up in his chest at your angry face, nose all scrunched up and brows furrowed. He wanted to kiss the little lines your frowning caused, pepper them all over your face if you'd let him until he came home to those lips he couldn't keep his eyes off of.

Soon.

He'd have you in his arms soon. He just had to hold out for the right time.

Even the mundane questions no longer got an answer. "Where'd you learn to do that?" you tried, watching the way he took apart your sink with an ease that betrayed his comfort with the task.

"Wanna learn yourself? Come here, I'll show you how it's done," he coaxed you closer to see what he was doing. "This bit here is where things get trapped. Always make sure to have a pan underneath to catch the run-off—"

It was so smoothly done that you never realized what he'd done. You likely wouldn't until you were thinking about your day once you were lying in bed.

By the time it was late afternoon and he was wrapping up for the day he had managed to learn quite a bit about you—your favorite food, your disdain of dusting, where you grew up—while you were limited to what you had gleaned that morning before the trip to the store.

"I'll be back tomorrow, aye? Same time as today and we'll keep knocking out that list," he said as he packed up his bag, cleaning up his leftover mess and turning to look at you once more.

You'd relaxed quite a bit throughout the day, your shoulders no longer up by your ears at the sight of him. It filled his belly with warmth at the thought of you softening up just for him. Showing your vulnerable underbelly. He wanted to see you relaxed underneath him in bed but that would wait for another day. He knew you weren't quite there yet but he was optimistic.

He remembered how you two used to be dynamic in bed. The sounds he could pull from you and the way your skin felt against his lips was burnt into his brain, something no bullet could take away. He looked forward to the day you'd let him re-learn your body, he was already more entranced with you now than he had been walking into this. Just goes to show he had great taste when choosing a spouse.

"You really don't have to," you tried, a hesitant look crossing your face. "You've already done so much today that I couldn't impose."

Impose. How funny.

"Nonsense, hen. I'll see you tomorrow."

And with that his hands darted out to cradle your jaw carefully between his warm, work-roughened hands as he tilted your face, leaning down to press slightly chapped lips to yours. They separated in a small gasp that he took advantage of eagerly. His tongue sliding inside to map the contours of your mouth, tongues tangling together.

After a moment he pulled back, leaving you panting and dazed, a far-away look in your eyes. With a smile he darted down to press one more kiss to your lips before stepping back, giving you room to breathe.

You came back to yourself quickly and cleared your throat with a, well then, before gesturing towards the door. He felt his heart expand in that moment, another piece of you that he would keep tucked away for himself. He made a vow to fluster you as often as he could just to get that look back on your face.

\\\

"And that's the last of it," you smiled at him from your position, crouched beside him as you held the light on the front stairs.

The week passed surprisingly quick with Johnny coming over ever day. You'd gotten to know him a little bit better each visit, his sense of humor coming to light easily but his reliability hiding behind layers that you were only starting to unearth the shape of.

After the first day and you turning him down on the drive to the store and the subsequent stonewall of information, you found yourself caving when he asked the next. Same rules as before—a question for a question while you were on the road. You'd like to say you held strong and told him where to stuff it but the truth is you capitulated embarrassingly fast. Yesterday's afternoon was a study of frustration when he refused to answer anything you asked. Even something as small as if he needed a certain tool got a run-around response as he got up to get it himself. It was beyond annoying.

You had stood on the porch that second day hesitantly, still not eager to give this stranger that much power over you just yet. But his offer meant maybe you'd get some of the answers you were looking for and so you found yourself giving in, caving in on your previous obstinacy.

Surely one ride wouldn't hurt.

You white-knuckled the entire trip there and back but nothing untoward happened. Johnny kept the conversation flowing as usual, asking you questions and offering up glimpses of himself when you inquired in turn. Pulling into the store he didn't let you try for the handle, jumping up to get around to your side before you'd even unbuckled your seatbelt, as if it would wound him if you were to open your own door.

You were slightly ashamed to admit it but you half thought he was going to steal you away as soon as you got into the vehicle. Drive and simply not stop, taking you wherever he wanted. However it was straight to the shop and then back home once more, no detours—planned or otherwise. You let out the breath you weren't aware you were holding, shoulders lowering at the sight of your home.

All that stress and you still didn't get the answers you were looking for. While he held true to his end of the bargain and answered your questions, the answers left something to be desired. Your why me's received a because you're my wife response and each why are you in my house got a just until everythings all fixed up, love.

But now you were done. Everything on your list checked off—including a few items Johnny himself pointed out during the course of the week. You were pleased to say your house looked better now than it did when you first moved in. No squeaky doors, no wobbly steps. It was picture perfect.

Johnny turned to you, holding his toolbag and leftover materials. "Come with me one more time to return these pipes I didn't end up needing?" he asked, his gaze steady as he held yours, bright blue eyes pinning you in place. You'd have thought exposure therapy over the week would have eased the intensity when he turned his full attention on you but it hadn't. It was still just as gut-wrenching as it had been that first night.

You thought about turning him down. Saying no and leaving it at that. But you were still curious. And hopeful. Hopeful that now you were done, he'd give you a satisfactory answer of why you, why your house, why now.

So you did. One more ride couldn't hurt.

The trip there was uneventful, Johnny jumping out to get your door just as the truck rolled to a stop, the same as he had every trip and then the pipes were returned and you were back in the vehicle once more, seatbelt firmly in place.

It was fine until he turned left out of the parking lot instead of right.

You froze for a brief moment, watching the new scenery passing by your window. "Where are you going?" you asked, thinking (hoping) that maybe he had another return to take care of, something he wanted to do while he was out before dropping you back off at your house. You felt your heartbeat starting to pick up it's tempo despite your reassurances to yourself.

"We're headed home, sweetheart."

"But—it's the other way," you tried, waving your hand in the vague direction of your house like it would spark his memory, voice still steady but starting to become tight with anxiety.

"We're going to our home, not yours," he didn't react as you dove for the door handle. You were still going slowly enough it wouldn't hurt too badly to jump out onto the road, maybe just a few scraped extremities to show for it. But when you tugged on the latch nothing happened.

Pulling firmly and jamming your shoulder against the door got you nowhere, it was sealed and wouldn't open from the inside. With horror you remembered all the times Johnny jumped out to get your door for you. Had you ever opened it yourself? Whipping your head back to him, you watched as he sat there smiling, taking you who knew where.

"Now that it's all fixed up," he continued as if there hadn't been any interruption, "We can sell it as is—fully furnished. I'll send some friends over to pick up your clothes and any small items you want but there's no reason to double up on all our furniture so it'll be included in the sale."

"What," you croaked, eyes wide as you stared at him in disbelief.

"Husbands and wives shouldn't live separately, dear. It's time you came home."

#john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #fic: picture perfect #abrupt ending #captain mactavish x reader

280 notes · View notes

dailynnt · 3 days ago

Text

──── A QUARREL, ALCOHOL AND YOU...

𓏭 Summary: You furious. The fight at the party still reverberates in your head, but instead of forgetting about him, you stands at his door at five in the morning, drunk, stubborn, and still hurt.

𓏭 Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

𓏭 Age restrictions: 18+

𓏭 Size: one shot

𓏭 Tags: from friends to lovers, sex, unprotected sex, sex while drunk, swearing, sexual tension, detailed description of intimate scenes

𓏭 From author: Don't blame me for writing about it again 🤭 I don't know what you should do with me, but I adore the theme of friends/lovers and just couldn't resist writing something about it again. I described Jungkook here as always cocky and persistent because ....ummm I love this kind of Jungkook 😌😃 I hope you like this story 👉🏻👈🏻 If you don't, just pass by 🙏🏻

Your mind is foggy. You don't know how you ended up here. When the taxi driver asked where to take you, you told him the address of his apartment. You get out of the car and smell the warm smell of a summer morning. You bang the car door and take a deep breath. "How annoying," you think. You hear the sound of the engine and the black Hyundai drives away.

You stagger to the entrance. Your steps were determined, if a little shaky, as you approached the familiar house. Your fingers nervously clutched the phone, but you weren't going to call him. He wasn't expecting you anyway.

It's almost five in the morning, and he's long since left the party you two were at. However, you didn't know when exactly he did it. You had a fight and you were one hundred percent sure it was all his fault. He could be surprised to see you. And he certainly won't expect see you right now to be drunk.

You've come to tell him what a rare asshole he is, even though he's your best friend.

The glass doors of the entrance slammed shut on some man who stepped outside, but you didn't even slow down, just pulled out your phone and quickly dialed the access code. A short beep, a click, and the door opened smoothly. The guard on the ground floor didn't pay you any attention. He had seen you here many times, leaving in the morning or staying late. You were best friends and you were a frequent guest in his apartment.

The elevator took you to the right floor. The metal booth reflected your reflection - slightly disheveled hair, a blush from drinking alcohol, a twinkle in your eye. You didn't even try to hide your emotions.

You reached apartment number 130 and knocked on the door, desperately and demandingly. You leaned on the wall near the front door with your hand to steady your relaxed body.

You don't know how long it took before his apartment door opened. You looked up. Your friend was standing on the threshold, shirtless in just shorts, looking at you in surprise. You slowly ran your eyes over his figure and smiled slightly. You paid attention to the tattoo that covered his right arm. He was hot as hell with that tattoo and perfect abs.

"Didn’t sleep, asshole?" - You asked cheekily. Jungkook tilted his head and hummed softly. He looked down at you, and his eyes showed a familiar irritation mixed with hidden amusement.

"You had a great time, I see." - His voice was low, hoarse from sleep. He crossed his arms over his chest, and you involuntarily ran your eyes down his torso again, a little longer than you should have.

"It's none of your business." - You pushed off the doorjamb and took a step forward, unsteadily. Jungkook effortlessly caught your elbow, stabilizing you.

"Yeah, not mine." - He raised one eyebrow. "It's just my drunken friend standing on my doorstep at five in the morning, calling me names for no reason." - He said, still holding you, his touch soft on your skin. You were wearing a light summer dress with straps, his favorite black color. You abruptly pulled your hand away and, taking a deep breath, straightened up again.

"Not without reason. I came to tell you that you're a real brat. I thought you were my friend, but you're an asshole..." - Your head was spinning from the amount of alcohol you'd drunk.

"Really?" - His lips stretched into a smile. "And you had to skip a few cocktails to come at such a time and say it?" - You rolled your eyes, but he stepped aside, letting you inside. "Come on in before the neighbors decide to call security." - He said. You walked proudly past him, bumping him with your shoulder. The apartment smelled like him - citrus, light notes of expensive perfume, and something cozy, homey.

Jungkook closed the door and turned to you, his gaze a little more serious.

"You didn't come to talk about the same thing again, did you?" - Jungkook asked, alluding to the fight that happened between the two of you at the party you went together. You were angry with your friend for dumping you for some girl, even though he supposedly came with you to that fucking party. You turned to him sharply.

"That's right, Jeon. We didn't finish talking because you ran off right away. I honestly didn't know you were such a sensitive soul." - You said sarcastically. "Anyway, you were acting like a complete idiot!"

He frowned and hummed in confusion.

"A sensitive soul? Are you talking about me right now? You were the one who started this fight." - Your friend reminded you, approaching you. You ignored his irritated tone.

"You came with me to that damn party. Do you think you had the right to sit with that slut?" - You ask, your tongue almost tangled. You're a little unsteady. His lips stretch into an amused smile.

"Wait..." - He took a step toward you. "Are you jealous?"

You clenched your fists, feeling the heat of his proximity.

"What jealousy Kook?" - You shouted, waving your hand in front of his face. "You dumped me, it's obvious I'm angry. You know I'm only went to this fucking party because you dragged me there."

Jungkook couldn't stop laughing. His laughter made you even angrier.

"Are you serious?!" - You took a step toward him, jabbing your finger at his bare chest. "This makes you laugh?!" - Jungkook caught your hand, and his fingers closed around your wrist in a hot fist. He was still smiling, but his eyes were getting darker by the second.

"You amuse me." - His voice dropped a tone lower. You jerked hand, but he didn't let go. On the contrary, he pulled you even closer, forcing your conversation to become too intimate.

"I dragged you there so you could have fun and take a break from your hard work... But if so, you should have told me right away that you wanted me for yourself." - You became almost sober in the moment. Jungkook was standing close and you didn't think that your conversation could come to this.

"What?!" - You stared at him, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks.

"Well, how could it not?" - Jungkook leaned in, his lips almost touching your cheekbone. "I'm not supposed to sit with other girls because my friend is jealous? Is that how you explain your claims and this ridiculous fight at the party?"

"I wasn't jealous, you left me alone, it made me angry..." - You're trying to justify yourself, or rather you're trying to prove him your right, but he seems to see the situation the way he wants to see it.

"Do you even believe what you're saying?" - He asks. His voice has gone even lower. He has you pinned between his body and the wall in the hallway leading to the living room of his apartment. There was something dangerous in his eyes. "Because right now you look like a girl who was definitely jealous."

You held your breath as his fingers slowly slid along your shoulder, lightly touching your bare skin.

"What are you doing? Jungkook, get away from me." - You wanted your voice to sound firm, but it trembled.

"I don't want to." - His lips slid down, his warm breath brushing against your neck. "For that matter, I'm curious about what happens next." - His touch was driving you crazy. A hot wave ran through your body, and your breath hitched.

"You're taking advantage of me being drunk!" - You tried to shame him. But he probably was drinking too, because he drank at that party. You didn't expect that when you went to your friend to settle things, he would start hitting on you.

"Isn't that what you came for?" - His breath left hot marks on your body. No, that's not why you came. Or...? You held your breath as you felt his arm slide around your waist, making your heart beat faster. Jungkook leaned even closer, so that your breath mingled with his. His lips slid lower, leaving a hot trail on your neck. He didn't kiss you or anything, you felt him slowly inhale your scent.

You pressed your hands against his chest, trying to keep your distance, but he was unyielding. His fingers tightened around your waist, pressing your body closer.

"I came here to fight with you, not..." - You couldn't continue because you heard his voice next to your ear.

"Not what?" - He whispered next to your ear and then lightly bit your earlobe. You sucked in a shaky breath.

"Jungkook..." - You called out to him. Either to stop him or to ask him to continue.

"Shh..." - His hand gently brushed the curve of your back. "This is what you want. So don't pretend you don't like it."

You knew you had to break free, to tell him that this was wrong, that he was crossing the line. That you were friends and he shouldn't touch you like that. But your body didn't listen. His touch burned you, left you defenseless.

His lips finally found yours. You thought it was a dream. A dream you've had a thousand times. But his lips were real.

At first he kissed you teasingly, slowly, as if giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn't. So he broke in more greedily, deeper, forcing your fingers to clutch his skin. The piercing on his lip felt good as he deepened the kiss. His tongue entered your mouth because you easily let it happen. His naked torso pressed against you. His hand had already slipped under the hem of your light summer dress and squeezed your flesh on your buttocks.

"That's why you were angry..." - He murmured against your lips, barely pulling away. "Because you wanted me to be with you." His fingers slid over your shoulder, pushing the strap of your dress down. "Tell me I'm wrong, and I'll stop." - His voice was husky, full of dark desire. You opened your lips, trying to answer him, but instead of words, only a heavy exhalation came out. Jungkook smiled. "That's what I thought."

Jungkook leaned in again, his lips pressing against your neck, leaving wet marks. His breathing was heavy, almost lighting a fire in your body. He ran a long, wet streak across your skin as if savoring it.

"A little uncomfortable for what I want to do." - He muttered as he gently picked you up by your hips. You let out a small cry. You barely managed to grab onto his shoulders as he lifted you into his arms. His strength had always amazed you, but now it seemed even more palpable as his fingers held you steady, as if you weighed nothing.

"Kook!" - You gasped as he easily pushed off the wall and carried you deeper into the apartment.

"Don't be afraid, I won't drop you." - He assures you, but you are not afraid. You trust him, as you have hundreds of times before. You just didn't expect this.

He walked into the living room, confidently, never taking his dark gaze off you. His eyes were burning, but there was still that playful spark in them that you knew.

"You're so..." - You muttered, not taking your eyes off of him. You couldn't see where he was taking you.

"Like what?" - He asked, sitting down on the couch and putting you on his lap.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. The distance between you was tiny. His hands held you tightly, one on your back and the other on your hip. You felt his every move, his every breath.

"Unbearable." - You said. He laughed softly and ran his fingers along your naked back, making you shudder.

"But you like it, don't you?" - His voice sounded deeper, with undisguised playfulness. You didn't answer, because the next moment his lips were on yours again, hot and demanding, making you forget everything.

Jungkook pressed your body closer to him, his fingers biting into your skin, leaving a hot trail. His lips moved boldly over yours, he took his time, savoring every touch, making your heart beat even faster.

"You taste so sweet..." - He murmured, moving to your jaw and then down to the sensitive spot on your neck.

You felt his palms slide slowly down your back, lifting the fabric of your dress. Your breath hitched, and you instinctively squeezed his shoulders, feeling the hot skin beneath your fingers.

"We can't do this..." - You said, breathing heavily. Your voice was trembling. You weren't supposed to do this because you were... friends?

"Shh..." - He hissed against your lips. He brushed the tip of his nose lightly across your cheekbone. "I want to savor this moment." - Jungkook has discovered that you're not wearing a bra and he smiles with satisfaction. He moves away and removes his hands from under your dress. His fingers catch the thin straps and pull them down. He pulls your dress down and it comes together on your stomach. Your breasts are exposed.

He wastes no time in taking one of your tits in his hands and squeezing it, and you instantly feel aroused. He bends down and you feel his wet tongue on your excited nipple. He tastes it, sucks it, plays with it. You moan softly. There is a pleasant pain in your lower abdomen that can only be stopped by creating some friction. Your thong is bunched up and the moisture between your legs seems to be leaking onto his black shorts.

When Jungkook slides his hand between your bodies and finds your clit, you tremble in his lap. He starts massaging it while sucking on your nipple.

Suddenly, he stops sucking your nipple, but he doesn't leave your needy clit. You can't stop shivering from the feel of his fingers. Jungkook stimulates your sensitive center until you come on his fingers. You squeeze his flesh on his strong shoulders, moaning against his face.

He withdraws his finger and leans back, pressing your hips with his hands even tighter against him, and then tilts his head relaxedly, watching you.

"I'm your friend... Why are you trembling in my arms?" - He asked. His words burned you and made you close your eyes.

"Because you're not acting like a friend." - You breathe out, swallowing the lump in your throat and still feeling the orgasm he caused with his fingers.

"Maybe you want to stop?" - Jungkook ask. His palms slowly slid down your thighs, and his fingers gently but firmly squeezed your skin. He looked up, looking you straight in the eyes, and his dark pupils reflected the same fire that was now burning in you. Obviously, you can't stop, not now. So you keep quiet, just enjoy what's happening.

He thrusts his hips and you hold your breath, only now realizing how hard he is. His bulge presses against your wet pussy. You inhale and start riding his hips yourself. The feeling of friction is good. Jungkook looks absolutely lustfully at his friend, who is shamelessly riding on his lap, trying to have a second orgasm.

You dig your nails into his shoulders.

"Does that feel good, sweetie?" - He asks, admiring your expression. Your eyes are closed. Your eyebrows are furrowed in bliss and your hair is standing on end. Your hair is disheveled and you're so fucking sexy.

"Yes..." - You say confidently, feeling like you're on the verge. You're about to come for the second time today. You jump on his lap, bringing yourself to orgasm. Your clit twitches and bliss covers you with a new wave of sweet bliss. You let out a louder moan and Jungkook's cock twitches at your sounds.

You stop and breathe heavily. You open your eyes and see Jungkook's gaze filled with unbridled desire. You suddenly panic, realizing that you just came just riding his hard bulge. But Jungkook seems to see this and instantly pulls you in for a kiss. His hand is on your neck, squeezing so that you don't have a chance to pull away. But you didn't even want to.

Jungkook puts you down on the couch and hovers over you. He kisses your neck. Your breathing is ragged and you feel like you're getting wet again, harder and more.

"I want to fuck you." - He says his desire into your lips. You open your eyes and see him so close. "You'll let me?" - He asks, and he sounds innocent. You want to swallow your saliva, but your throat is dry. You let him, because you want that he to do it.

"Yes." - You say shortly but confidently, squeezing his skin a little with excitement. Jungkook smiles with satisfaction.

"Yes? Do you thought well about it?" - Jungkook asks another question, which throws you into a stupor. His eyes are dark, and his smile becomes cocky. He deliberately doesn't look away, as if he's studying you, catching every little change in your expression. "If you say yes now... there will be no turning back."

Your heart beats faster. He says this in such a playful yet dangerous tone that you feel a mix of excitement and impatience.

"You think I don't realize that?" - Your voice sounds confident, but he seems to hear a slight tremor. Jungkook leans closer, his lips almost touching yours.

"I just want you to be sure..." - He runs his nose along your jaw and then, with a sly smile, bites the skin somewhere between your jaw and neck. "Because once I start..." - He pauses deliberately, his breath mingling with yours. "I won't be able to stop."

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling his voice burn your skin.

"And who says I want you to stop?" - You ask even more confidently. You wanted him to fuck you as soon as this game between you started. Jungkook laughs softly before his lips cover yours in a passionate, deep kiss. His tongue takes over yours and sets the pace for your kiss.

Jungkook suggests that you move to his bedroom for more comfort, and you don't mind. Not even a minute later, you're already kissing as you move to his bedroom. When you reach the bed, he gently puts you down and climbs on top of you. You spread your legs so that he can fit comfortably between them.

When he has enjoyed your plump lips enough, he starts to undress you. He doesn't like any of your clothes. So it takes less than twenty seconds for you to lie completely naked in front of your friend. Your breasts rise and fall quickly. Goosebumps cover your body and you know for sure that they are not from the summer chill of the morning that comes in through the open window in his bedroom. They are provoked by Jungkook's touch.

He runs his fingers over your body, drawing patterns that only he can understand. He lingers a few seconds longer at your nipples. He pinches one of them, making you hiss in pain.

"Fuck, I've imagined this picture so many times, but who knew you were so fucking hot in real life?" - Jungkook asks, and you don't know if this question is addressed to you. He glances at your wet pussy and the next moment his fingers are on it.

He gently runs his fingers over your clit and you tremble again. And then his fingers plunge into your passage. You want to squeeze your legs together to endure the sensation, but Jungkook's other hand is spreading your legs. You grab the sheets and dig your nails into the fabric.

"So wet, so tight... I need to fill you up soon, baby." - Jungkook says, and you let out a barely audible moan in agreement with his words. You can't wait.

When Jungkook decides you're stretched out enough, he gets off the bed and quickly pulls off his shorts, which he wasn't wearing underwear under. Only now, looking at his aroused cock, do you realize that it felt so good through the fabric of his shorts because he was wearing nothing else.

Jungkook hurries over to you. You can see his hard cock. It bounces as Jungkook moves toward you.

You wriggle with anticipation as he takes your legs and drapes them over his shoulders, settling in close to his entrance. He smears your wetness with his fingers, and then rolls his cock with his hand and places it against your entrance.

Jungkook presses against your passage and slowly plunges in. When the head of his cock reaches the place where the hymen used to be, you scream softly, squeezing his biceps harder. He stops to look at your face. Jungkook leans in and you feel his lips on yours.

He kisses you, a little hastily but gently. You feel him twitch, and after a moment, your friend continues to sink into you. He continues to kiss you, as if to distract you from penetration. His size hurts you, but when he reaches the end, he parted your lips and you both exhale blissfully.

"That feels good, doesn't it, baby?" - He asks against your lips.

"Hell…yeah." - You assure him. Jungkook gives a gentle thrust with his hips and you can't help but think about how wonderful he is filling you with his cock. You squeeze his biceps to ease the pain that's still a little present. But with each new thrust of Jungkook's hips, you realize that the pain is disappearing, giving way to only pleasant pleasure.

Jungkook fucks you slowly, deeply. You enjoy the friction he creates, your eyes are closed and moans escape your lips. You can hear your bodies hitting each other, and it feels so natural, like you're having sex all the time, not for the first time.

Jungkook stops and you open your eyes. He's smiling, and you don't know why he's doing it.

Jungkook leans in closer, sliding his nose along your cheek before pressing his lips to your ear.

"What?" - You ask, feeling him stiffen inside you, and his smile seemingly widen.

"Just... I feel like I'm setting a new record. I've never seen you like this..."

"Like what?" - You squeeze his skin a little harder, suspecting he's about to do something.

"Like this..." - He pauses, pretending to search for a word. "Pleased with my, um, talent."

You snort, trying to stifle a laugh, but he immediately gives you a short but deep thrust, making you forget what it was that made you laugh so hard.

"Jungkook!" - You hiss, and he cheekily kisses you on the lips.

"Tell me, what's my grade? Ten out of ten?" - He moves again, driving his cock deeper into you. You can't answer even if you wanted to. All you do is moan and dig your nails into his skin on your back. Jungkook presses his body against you, pulling your legs up under his press before doing so. He whispers right into your lips.

"You're holding me like you're afraid I'm going to run away." - He says in a low voice. You roll your eyes, finding the strength to speak, but stutter a little with pleasure.

"Maybe I am. What if you decide to go get a drink of water and don't come back?" - You say your opinion. Jungkook stops and you look at his eyes.

He laughs hoarsely, grabs you tightly by the hips, and without taking his hands off you, rolls you over so that you are now on top.

"I'm definitely not going anywhere. How can I leave this juicy, tight pussy without cumming around my cock?" - He asks. You try to put on an offended face, but all you can manage is a weary smile. He squeezes your hips to guide you where he wants you to go.

"I thought so." - You say. You can't help but laugh between contented sighs, because he's so cocky, so confident, that you just don't have the strength to resist. But you don't seem to want to. You slowly lean in closer, touching your lips to his ear, and whisper:

"So maybe you'll set another new record?" - You ask seductively and give a slow, deep thrust with your hips. Jungkook can barely contain his moan. Your fingers slowly scratch his chest.

"Yes, baby." - His voice is deep, hoarse, and full of desire. "I'm going to fuck you until you beg for mercy." - He promises. But you huff a mocking humor and deliberately rock your hips slowly, making him close his eyes and squeeze your waist tighter.

"You think you can promise that now?" - You ask. Jungkook opens his eyes, and you see something dangerous, something devilish in them. His hands go down to your hips, squeezing them so tightly that you can barely hold back a shudder.

"I can..." - He suddenly rises up on his elbows, then sits down, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning into your ear, whispering hotly. "I can do everything and even more... hold on tight, because I won't stop until you beg."

You don't even have time to respond, because he rolls you onto your back and abruptly changes the rhythm, forcing your lips to reach for his skin in an attempt to drown out the pleasure that is overwhelming you.

Jungkook fucks you mercilessly, making you moan loudly. He liked how you tried to dominate him, tempting him to prove that he could fuck you well. And he was proving it. His cock is deep inside you, and it's just perfect. The sinful sounds of your bodies hitting each other is a delight to his ears. Your moans are the perfect melody.

You squeeze his shoulders, trying to somehow stay afloat amid the waves of pleasure he's mercilessly rolling over you.

"Kook..." - Your voice trembles, and he smiles, knowing that you're almost on the edge.

"What, baby?" - His voice sounds too pleased. You don't answer, just scratch him, and he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. "Tired?" - He asks.

"You're... too..." - You can't finish the sentence because he picks you up again in that passionate rhythm.

"Too what?" - Your friend asks mockingly. "Too good?" - You roll your eyes.

"Too cocky! As usual." - You barely say. He laughs, but doesn't stop. His hands slide hotly over your body, leaving marks that are only his. But you're both on the verge of coming. So Jungkook decides it's time to end it. He grabs your hands and holds them above your head. He intertwines your fingers and asks you to look into his eyes.

Jungkook leans even closer, so that his breath burns your skin and his eyes, full of passion, bore into yours. He squeezes your fingers tighter, pinning them to the pillow, and whispers with depth in his voice.

"Look at me. I want you to remember this moment. So that even when you become sober, you remember that I did it. That I gave you the greatest pleasure of your life by fucking you so well." - He says, and his words make you tremble even more, your eyes darken. You can't do anything but obey him, trust his every move, every hot touch. He doesn't look away, watching you dissolve in this whirlwind of sensations, your world shrinking to him alone.

And then there is an explosion.

A loud, all-encompassing explosion that makes you grab onto him even harder, as if he were your only support in this world. And he really doesn't let go. He just leans down to your ear when the last waves of pleasure subside and says with a smile pressed to your temples.

"You are mine now, baby. And you'll never be able to forget it." - He fucks you until he feels himself coming. He pulls out of you abruptly and his hot cum paints your stomach. You breathe heavily as you feel him spewing his cum. Finally, he stops and breathes heavily too.

You lie there trying to catch your breath as the realization of what just happened begins to wash over you. Jungkook gets off of you and goes to the bathroom, takes some napkins and brings them to you. He sits down next to you and wipes the rest of the cum off your stomach.

The air in the room is still hot from your shared madness, and Jungkook, who lies down and covers you with a sheet, looks at you with a subtle smile.

"You look like someone who's thinking: 'What the hell have I done?" - He says, leaning slightly on his elbow to see you better. You exhale sharply and cover your face with your hand.

"Shouldn't I be thinking that?" - You mutter through your fingers. Jungkook laughs and gently pulls your hand down, forcing you to look at him.

"Well, at least you had a good time." - He speaks for you, and you agree with him completely, even though you feel extremely ashamed.

"It’s doesn't help." - You roll your eyes, but the corners of your lips lift.

"Oh, so you wanted me to make it bad?" - He pretends to be offended, but there's laughter in his eyes. You sigh and mutter without looking at him.

"You're my best friend. We just... God." - You realize the gravity of the situation only now. Jungkook rolls over onto his back, putting one arm under his head.

"We just now fucked, yeah." - He picks up calmly. "And it was hot, you have to admit."

"Shut up!" - You raise yourself up on your elbows and then slap him on the shoulder.

"What? I'm just stating the facts." - He defends himself. You look at him, then groan and fall back on the pillow.

"Jungkook, this is wrong, right? We're friends..." - You say in desperation. He is silent for a few seconds, and then leans into you, hugging you. You stare at his handsome face.

"Honestly? I have no idea what this means for us…" - He admits. "But if you want to forget about it, I won't insist." - You look at him, and suddenly something in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat.

"What if I don't want to forget?" - You ask quietly.

"Then stay." - Jungkook says quietly and purses his lips. You swallow the lump in your throat and realize you don't want to leave.

You look at him, licking your dry lips, and Jungkook doesn't seem to take his eyes off you for a second.

He's waiting for your answer, but he doesn't push. He just runs his fingertips lightly along your forearm, as if he's testing you, as if he's checking to see if you're real.

"If I stay..." - You start, but your voice is a little shaky, so you pause.

"Then it's the right thing to do." - He prompts, as if reading your mind.

"How can I look you in the eye after all? A soon I’ll be sober…" - You confess. Jungkook smiles and squeezes your hand lightly.

"As usual. Don't to be afraid. It's me. Why would you find it hard to look me in the eye?" - Jungkook asked you. You curl your lips, trying not to let it show that these words make your heart race.

"It's not fair..." - You mutter softly.

"What?" - He leans in even closer, his lips almost touching yours.

"That you act like you have everything under control." - You say, closing your eyes. You hear Jungkook smile, and when he doesn't answer, you look at him. And something dangerous appears in his eyes, something not friendly at all.

"What if I've always wanted this to happen?" - He confesses. You open your eyes wide, but he doesn't let you say a word, just bites into your lips, pulling you into a new whirlpool where there is no room for doubt.

His lips are hot, insistent, but not hasty. He took his time, as if he knew you had plenty of time. His tongue barely touches yours, teasing you, forcing you to respond to this kiss as if it were a game you had already lost in advance.

Jungkook smiles as you pull him closer, tangling your fingers in his hair.

"So you don't want to leave after all?" - He asks between kisses, his voice husky, pleased.

"Shut up..." - You whisper, pulling him even closer, like you can't enjoy him enough.

He laughs, but obediently fulfills your request, finding your lips again. His arms wrap confidently around your body, leaving touches that you will feel even after he lets go. If he lets go. Jungkook breaks the kiss, looking at your face.

"How did you end up here at five in the morning anyway?" - He asks. You blink, not immediately realizing what he means.

"We had a fight... at that party... because you left me to go dancing with some girl." - You say quietly.

"I didn't dance with her." - Jungkook denies.

"But I saw her pulling you to dance." - You say what you saw with your own eyes.

"Yes, I went, but I didn't want to dance. We met Taehyung on the dance floor and I handed her over to him." - Jungkook tells what really happened. "I went outside to smoke and saw Jimin there, we were smoking and talking. And then I went to find you and you threw a tantrum." - You look away, realizing how absolutely ridiculous you've been. It was the alcohol. You were sure.

"I was... a little drunk." - You justified your behavior by blaming it on the alcohol. Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

"A little? You were pretty drunk even then." - He says. "I told you to eat something before drinking." - Jungkook complains. You bite your lip, and he laughs, running his fingers down your cheek.

"So I was right, then?" - He leans down to your ear, breathing warm air into it. "Besides, we've made up so well." - You rub your fingers over his shoulders, realizing that you can't deny that he was right.

"We didn't have to make up like that." - You still can't believe that this happened between you. Even though you can feel the phantom presence of Jungkook's cock.

"Come on. I'm glad you came, because now you're mine." - He says this and gently touches your lips, and you feel butterflies in your stomach. He pulls your lips apart and you exhale heavily, trying to gather your thoughts, but Jungkook won't let you. His touch is too light, his gaze too sure.

"I'm not yours." - You mumble stubbornly, though you don't even sound convincing in your own voice. Jungkook tilts his head to the side, his fingers sliding along your stomach, making you shudder.

"No?" - His voice is filled with mockery, mixed with that dangerous desire you've felt so well before. "You really want me to believe that?"

You swallow the lump in your throat, but still lift your chin stubbornly.

"We're friends." - You state, and it was once true. You were friends before tonight's hot sex.

"Friends don't do what we did." - He reminds you, leaning in so that his lips are dangerously close to yours again. "Friends don't come over at five in the morning to get mad over a stupid fight... and they definitely don't stay in bed afterwards."

You gasp for air as he brushes his nose across your cheek, teasing you.

"It was just...the alcohol." - You don't give up. Jungkook humors you.

"Then why are you still here?" - He asks you more rhetorically. He knows the answer and you know the answer. "I'll give you time to think, baby." - He whispers, letting you feel his smile on your skin. "But remember..." - He lingers at your ear, and his voice penetrates every cell in your body. "I'm not backing down. You're already mine. You just have to accept it."

#jungkook x reader #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x f!reader #jungkook smut #jungkook friends with benefits #jungkook imagine #bts fanfction #jungkook fanfic #Jungkook best friend #Jungkook x y/n

173 notes · View notes

thezombieprostitute · 2 days ago

Text

The Prey

A/N: Follow up to The Hunt. Entirely written on my phone.

A/N2: Reader is big, tall and female.

Warnings: Implied smut, Implied violence, Self-deprecation, Stalking. Please let me know if I missed any.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

It feels like you've been on edge the entire week. Like you're being stalked, but every time you look, there's no one there. Figuring you could use a break you decide to eat at your favorite place for dinner. You're sitting in a booth at the pub, reading a book and eating some dinner when a man you don't know sits across from you.

"Damn you're cute," he says.

"No I'm not. And I really don't appreciate lying."

He gives you a confused look, "what do you mean?"

"I am, objectively speaking, unattractive. The way you said I was cute indicates a feeling of attraction and, let's be honest, that's not possible."

"You don't even know me but you really think I'm that shallow?"

"Look, it's not your fault society dictates attractiveness. Maybe it's just not something you ever had to deal with because you are very much an ideal. You've got beautiful eyes, a physique that is tall, muscular and healthy. And it just makes me wonder what's wrong with you that you're not already taken and you're slumming it with someone like me."

"Slumming it?" he asks incredulously.

"Yes," you nod. "All my curves are disproportionate to each other, too much here, too little there. I've got chin hairs and regularly get acne. My eyes are, at best, normal and boring. And let's not even get started on my hair. It's also a fact that men do not care for women as tall or taller than them. I am, objectively, physically unattractive. So when you call me cute, I have to believe you're lying."

"You are very weird," he shakes his head.

"I am," you agree. "Then again, you're the one who interrupted my dinner."

"Just trying to give you a compliment," he groans as he gets up.

"And all you accomplished was interrupting my reading."

You pick your book back up and pretend to read. Your eyes follow him as he heads back to his buddies. Your suspicions are confirmed when you see him hand some cash over to one of his buddies.

It's not the first time bets have been placed at your expense and it won't be the last. It's always a game of getting the ugly girl's hopes up. String her along and then break her heart while leaving her with the tab.

Maybe you'd have been nicer about it if you hadn't been so on edge lately.

Across the bar you don't notice Kraven watching you. It took all of his strength to not step in and punch the bastard so hard he'd never breathe right again. And when you kept talking down about yourself he quietly growled with rage. When you're his mate, he'll make sure you never feel less than gorgeous.

And you will be his mate. He's been following you, trying to find flaws, reasons to walk away, but he can't. You've picked up on him following you, indicating an alertness beyond most humans. Despite obviously being upset, you still helped anyone and everyone at the library without them even guessing you weren't feeling well, indicating your suitability for raising offspring.

And when you tried to release some of that stress in the privacy of your apartment? He breathed in the scent the next day when he broke into your apartment. It was all over your panties that now reside near his bed. It isn't quite "bitch-in-heat" but it still gets him going.

But first, he's going to follow those assholes who messed with you and make sure they never do so again.

Soon he'll have everything needed for your new home. He's determined to show his quality as a mate, as a provider, by building you a dream den. It'll have everything you've ever wanted and needed. Perfect for raising your children.

The only thing you might not like is his rule about no outside contact. At least not until you're fully his. But he's sure it won't take long. You're incredibly smart, kind and you'll know it's meant to be.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Tagging: @alicedopey ; @delicatebarness ; @hederasgarden @icefrozendeadlyqueen ; @irishhappiness ; @kmc1989; @lokislady82 ; @ronearoundblindly

#dark!kraven #dark!kraven the hunter #kraven x reader #kraven x you #kraven the hunter x reader #Kraven the hunter x you #x tall reader #kraven the hunter x tall!reader #kraven x tall!reader #Kraven x plus size!reader #Kraven the hunter x plus size!reader #dark!kraven the hunter x tall!reader #dark!kraven the hunter x plus size!reader

113 notes · View notes

thatonesonicfanfictionwriter · 2 days ago

Note

hello!! I'd like to request a Sir Lancelot (Shadow?? I don't know much of the game idk why his name is changed) x Reader sneaking out together to go be all lovey dovey and stuff? Thank you!

“Secrets in the Flower Field”

Pairing: Sir Lancelot x Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: It wasn’t easy getting to see your beloved knight, with him being, well, a knight of the Round Table. But when you did get to see him, it was lovely.

Notes: My first Sonic and the Black Knight request!! Since you were curious, anon, Sir Lancelot is essentially the best Knight of the Round Table (Arthurian Legend stuff) and he happens to look like Shadow. He has a very different personality but they basically look the same! Anyway, hope you enjoy!

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

Being a maid for the king was surprisingly an easy job. Clean each room, clean the knights’ armor, tend to any injuries from battle, and don’t touch Excalibur.

Pretty simple, right?

And you were lucky; your room was near the Knights of the Round Table’s rooms, and part of your job was bringing them breakfast each morning.

During your stay at the castle, you came to fall in love with Sir Lancelot Du Lac, the strongest knight of the Round Table.

How could you not? He was strong, smart, good-looking, kind-hearted…

You had fallen head-over-heels for him.

Luckily for you, he loved you, too, and the two of you started a (not-so) secret relationship.

Today was one of your lucky days off, and you were spending it outside, tending to your flower garden.

But…you’re lonely. You miss your knight.

You head back towards the castle, seeing Lancelot cleaning his armor.

“Lancelot!” you say happily, approaching him.

He lets off a smile seeing you, setting down his helmet. It was rare you saw him without it, and gosh was he beautiful.

“Hello to you as well, my love,” Lancelot says, kissing the back of your hand.

“Would thou like to accompany me to my flower garden?” you ask him.

“I would,” he says. “Let me put my armor on first, then we shall depart.”

“Must you really keep it on when off of your duties?” you ask.

“I must,” he replies. “If I wish to keep you safe, then it must be worn.”

“That’s fair enough, my knight,” you state.

Lancelot puts his armor back, grabbing his sword, the two of you heading to your flower garden not long after.

You take a seat, laying down on your back, with Lancelot doing the same, laying down by your side.

“Thank you for accompanying me, my knight,” you tell him. “I always enjoy your company.”

“As do I,” Lancelot replies. “You make me happier than I could have ever dreamed.”

“I love you too, Lancelot,” you tell him. “And I’ll love you until the end of time.”

69 notes · View notes

lost-in-thoughts03 · 1 day ago

Text

Falling for you // Hwang brothers

Summary: Your best friend is the object of your hopeless romanticism, and you constantly hope that he will notice you.

" I don't want to be your friend, I want to kiss your neck."

Warning: Angst, In-ho being In-ho, teasing, hopelessly romantic (reader), forbidden love, jealousy, best friend zone, unresolved conflict, grammatical errors

Have you ever wondered why, every time you look at someone, the world seems to slow down? How the sunlight kisses their face, making their beauty glow even more? How the mere thought of their lips brushing against your skin sends a shiver down your spine?

That sensation—the way your stomach flips as butterflies roam freely inside you—is intoxicating. But no matter how strong it feels, you have to bury it deep. Even though love should never be something to hide.

After all, there’s nothing wrong with falling for a longtime friend—the one who’s been by your side through every high and low. The one who loves you for who you are, flaws and all, without hesitation or conditions.

But his love? It’s different. It’s not the kind that keeps you up at night, wondering if he feels the same. It’s not the kind that lingers in stolen glances or makes your heart race. No, his love is the kind he gives to everyone. You want to feel jealous, to claim something more, but the only label you hold in his life is friend.

Hwang Jun-ho.

You’ve known him for nearly a decade now, ever since high school, when he became your seatmate and never left your side after learning your name.

You know everything about him—even the most disturbing, embarrassing stories he wouldn’t dare share with anyone else. And in return, he knows all of yours. There’s no shame between you, no fear of judgment, because he trusts you completely.

You practically live at his house, spending more time there than on your own. Watching movies, cleaning up after him, playing with his pets—it all feels so natural, like a second home. His mother adores you, often teasingly asking if Jun-ho is finally courting you.

If only. If he did, you wouldn't hesitate for a second. But instead, his mother only chuckles at your flustered reaction, admitting that Jun-ho struggles to express romantic feelings.

And then she tells you something that shatters you.

He likes someone else.

Your heart clenches painfully at the thought. He’s the one who’s always given you strength, the one who made you feel brave enough to face the world. And yet, the man you’ve secretly loved for so long dreams of loving someone else.

You swallow the pain, push it deep where it won’t be seen.

“ Hey, stop daydreaming. You’re drooling—it’s disgusting.”

A voice pulls you back to reality. You jolt, nearly falling off your chair, but strong arms catch you before you hit the ground.

You look up, cheeks flushing in embarrassment, only to see In-ho—Jun-ho’s older brother. He smirks as he steadies you, shaking his head playfully before sitting down beside you, taking up the rest of your chair.

“ You seem lost in thought today. Wanna share? I’m all ears.” His dark, knowing eyes settle on you.

You pout. “ It’s nothing. Just a project. I’m struggling with ideas.”

In-ho chuckles, and you frown before punching his arm, making him wince while laughing quietly.

“ Why are you laughing, huh?” You snap.

“ Because you looked so serious, like you were contemplating life itself… over a project.” He shakes his head, amused.

You glare at him, but deep down, you know he’s right.

Over the years, you’ve become close to Jun-ho’s entire family—even In-ho, despite his reputation for being distant. Somehow, he’s become a regular part of your life, teasing you endlessly and criticizing everything from the way you talk to the way you dress.

Especially when you wear short dresses to parties.

He always acts like a strict father, lecturing you about the dangers of going out late and dragging Jun-ho with you. It’s infuriating. He gets under your skin like no one else.

And yet…

“ I know that look.”

You snap your head toward him, raising an eyebrow.

In-ho smirks, clearly pleased with himself. “ It’s a love problem.”

You roll your eyes, but his stomach tightens at the sight. His thoughts are dangerous—ruining whatever self-control he has left. He shifts slightly, subtly adjusting his position to hide the effect you have on him.

He watches you, studying every detail—your eyes, your lips, the way you chew on the inside of your cheek when you’re frustrated.

And in that moment, one thought fills his mind.

Jun-ho is a fool.

If his brother doesn’t wake up soon, someone else will take his place.

And maybe—just maybe—that someone will be him.

In-ho nudged you playfully. “ Come on, don’t be shy around me. I already know most of your secrets—what’s one more?” His tone was light, but there was an edge of curiosity in his voice. He wanted to know what was on your mind, and he wasn’t going to let it go.

You sighed deeply, pressing your lips together before finally giving in. “ Fine.” You muttered, your voice laced with sadness.

Turning to face him, you met his gaze directly.

For a moment, In-ho forgot how to breathe.

Your eyes held him captive, drawing him in deeper than he intended. If only you would look at him like this forever.

“ Don’t tell anyone. Especially your mom and Jun-ho.” You warned.

In-ho smirked, raising a hand in surrender. “ I swear, not a word.”

You exhaled sharply, gathering your thoughts. “ Before I spill the tea, I have a question for you.”

He nodded, leaning in slightly, intrigued. “ Go for it.”

You hesitated, then asked, “ Since you’re a guy… how do you know when you really like someone? I mean, what makes the difference between liking someone and just… liking any random girl?”

In-ho nearly choked on his own spit.

Of all the things you could’ve asked, this was the one?

The irony wasn’t lost on him—his crush was sitting right in front of him, asking how men show interest, completely oblivious to the fact that he had been giving her signs all along.

He swallowed hard, trying to compose himself. He had to be careful. If he confessed too soon, there was a real chance you’d pull away from him—and that was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

“ Uh…well.” He started, clearing his throat. “ If a guy really likes you, he’ll make it obvious.”

You scoffed and nudged him before giving his arm a light slap. “ That’s the most useless answer ever!” You grumbled.

In-ho burst into laughter, his deep chuckles making your irritation grow.

“ Hey! Don’t laugh at me!” You snapped, crossing your arms in a pout.

“ Relax.” He teased, still grinning. “ Getting worked up like that? Big turn-off. Just saying.”

Your pout deepened, and for a split second, he had to fight the urge to pinch your cheeks. Why do you have to be so damn cute?

“ Alright, alright. I’ll give you a real answer.” He said, finally sobering up. “ You know someone truly likes you when they’re sincere. It’s not just about their actions—it’s about the way they do things for you. You can’t just look at the surface. You have to see what’s underneath.”

You chewed on your lip, processing his words. “ But what if he acts that way with everyone?”

In-ho’s jaw tightened.

“ Then he doesn’t like you—not in that way.” He said bluntly.

He reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours before giving it a gentle squeeze. His grip was warm, steady.

“ Listen.” He said, his voice softer now. “ If a guy really likes you, he won’t hesitate. He’ll show you. He’ll tell you. There won’t be any room for doubt.”

His dark eyes shimmered under the moonlight, sincerity etched into every word.

Then, just as quickly as he had taken your hand, he let it go.

And with a quiet sigh, he added, “ Don’t assume unless it’s clearly stated.”

Because the truth was, he wanted you to know.

But he wasn’t ready for you to run away.

Not yet.

The night air was cool, the distant hum of cicadas filling the silence between you and In-ho. You sat side by side on the back porch of his house, your knees pulled to your chest, arms wrapped around them as if that could somehow hold you together.

And then, you finally said it.

“ I like Jun-ho.”

The words spilled out before you could stop them, before you could even consider taking them back. Your throat tightened, and you blinked rapidly to fight back the sting of tears.

In-ho, sitting beside you, barely reacted. He only took a slow inhale, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. He had known—some part of him had to have known—but hearing you say it aloud felt like a punch to the gut.

You sighed, dropping your forehead against your arms. “ And it sucks.” You muttered, voice laced with frustration.

In-ho swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his expression neutral. “ Why?” His voice was quieter than usual.

You let out a humorless chuckle. “ Because I feel so stupid. I keep falling for a guy who probably sees me as nothing more than a childhood friend. I tell myself it’s fine, that I can live with it, but then he does something—anything—and suddenly, my heart just…” You trailed off, exhaling shakily.

In-ho clenched his fists.

“ He’s so kind.” You continued, oblivious to how every word felt like a blade pressing deeper into him.

“ Not in a forced way, but in that natural, effortless way. He listens to me, even when I ramble about the dumbest things. He always makes sure I eat when I forget. And God, he’s so stupidly handsome.” You laughed bitterly.

“ Like, how is it fair that he gets to be that perfect?”

In-ho didn’t laugh.

He was too busy clenching his jaw, his fingers digging into his jeans to keep from reaching for you—to shake you, to make you see him instead.

Instead of him, you were sitting here, pouring your heart out over his younger brother.

It made him feel pathetic.

It made him furious.

It made him jealous.

You sniffled, rubbing at your eyes before turning to him. “ You probably think I’m ridiculous, huh?”

He forced a smirk, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “ Ridiculous? No. Hopelessly romantic? Definitely.”

You groaned, burying your face back in your arms. “ God, I hate this. I hate feeling like this. It’s like… no matter what I do, no matter how much I try, he’s never going to see me the way I see him.”

In-ho let out a slow breath, forcing down every selfish thought, every bitter word that threatened to slip past his lips.

He doesn’t deserve you.

He’s blind if he can’t see what’s right in front of him.

You’re wasting your love on the wrong Hwang brother.

But he didn’t say any of that.

Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your shoulder before giving it a firm squeeze. “ Then stop trying.” He murmured.

You looked up, eyes glossy. “ What?”

His heart ached at the sight of you—so hopeless, so heartbroken over someone who would never feel the same way.

He gave you a small, almost sad smile. “ If he hasn’t seen you by now, maybe he never will.”

You swallowed, his words sinking into your chest like lead. “ Then what am I supposed to do?” You whispered.

In-ho hesitated, then finally let himself be selfish for just a second.

He reached out, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb, lingering for a moment longer than he should have.

“…Maybe it’s time to start looking at someone else.”

He hoped—prayed—that one day, you’d realize that the love you were waiting for had been sitting right beside you all along.

You let out a snort, clapping your hands as if he'd just told the funniest joke in the world. “ Me? Start looking at someone else? Please! Every guy these days is absolute trash.” You declared with exaggerated drama.

In-ho scoffed, crossing his arms. “ Not all of them,” he shot back, clearly unimpressed.

Wiping away tears of laughter, you continued to giggle. “ How could I even look at someone else when I’m this into your brother? Even if I tried, I’d still end up liking Jun-ho—no matter what.”

In-ho scoffed, exhaling sharply as he rubbed his temple. “ You’re unbelievable.” He muttered, his voice laced with frustration.

You smirked, tilting your head. “ What? Did I hurt your ego? Or are you just jealous?” you teased, nudging his arm playfully.

His expression darkened, and instead of his usual sarcastic quip, he turned to you with something more intense in his eyes. “ Jealous?” He repeated, his voice quieter, heavier. “ You think this is about jealousy?”

Your smirk wavered as the air between you shifted. “In-ho…”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking away for a moment before stepping closer. “I just don’t get it.” He admitted, his tone raw with frustration.

“ Why him? Why Jun-ho? Of all the people in the world, why do you have to love someone who—” He stopped himself, his jaw clenching as if the rest of the sentence physically pained him.

You swallowed hard. “ Because I do.” You whispered. “ Because no matter what happens, no matter how complicated things get, my feelings for him won’t just disappear.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “ And what if he’s not who you think he is? What if one day, he lets you down? What if you wake up and realize you gave everything to someone who never planned on staying?”

You stiffened. “ Why are you saying this?”

His gaze locked onto yours, and for the first time, you saw something flicker behind his usually guarded eyes—something dangerously close to hurt.

“ Because I’ve seen it happen before.” He murmured. “ And I don’t want it to happen to you.”

The weight of his words settled deep in your chest, but before you could say anything, he scoffed, stepping back as if shaking off whatever moment of vulnerability had just slipped through.

“ Forget it.” He muttered.

“ Do whatever you want.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding, your thoughts racing, and the undeniable feeling that you had just missed something important—something you weren’t sure you were ready to face.

N/A: Y/n and Jun-ho met when they were 16. In-ho, on the other hand, began to like her when she reached her legal age—around the time Y/n was in her twenties. (I need to clarify this to avoid misunderstandings between the characters)

Y/n and Jun-ho's age right now: 23 (College students)

In-ho's age right now: 30 (I need to lower down his age to make it more accurate)

#squid game #squid game 2 #in ho x reader #in ho #hwang inho #hwang inho x reader #hwang inho x you #hwang inho x y/n #hwang junho #junho #junho x reader #hwang junho x reader #hwang junho x you #hwang junho x y/n #fanfic #Spotify

78 notes · View notes

for-your-modesty-dude · 2 days ago

Text

As Long As You're There

A/N: AHHHHHHHH This is SO intimidating. My first ever fic posted. I don't feel like it's my best work, but if I don't post this now, I'm going to chicken out, and never write anything ever again. I hope you don't hate it, since I refuse to have my first piece beta read for fear of chickening out from that, too. So... no beta, we die like Jason. Feedback appreciated, but please be nice, LOL. I'm sensitive and very new to this. Love you all! - Hy

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, not beta read, tenses might jump around (i got nervy), generally nervous author, was supposed to be angst/fluff but I honestly don't know how to describe this one, folks

Synopsis: Eddie is sure Chrissy Cunningham is the girl for him. What happens when he is shown she's not?

It is undeniable. Eddie Munson thinks he likes Chrissy Cunningham - especially after that drug deal before the championship game back in high school. He doesn't really, though. Deep down, what it really boils down to is that he craves to be known and liked by the people who torment him. He sees kindness in her, and thinks that maybe - just maybe - if Chrissy can see past the flaws, even a girl like her could come to have feelings for a guy like him. After all, he's always been funny, charming, and larger-than-life. Sure, he talks a lot, he goes on emotional rants, and always has something to tease his friends about. And okay, maybe he's a little bossy. But at the end of the day, he's just a guy with a lot of affection to give and not enough friends to give it to. He tries, he does, to keep his temper tamed and attitude in check, but it's hard for someone with a past like his. He's a little angry at everything. He wants to get out of Hawkins, sure. But most of all, he just wishes he could feel normal. He likes being different, likes being who he is. But he doesn't like what comes with it. The jeering, the nasty looks, the fear - it's all so stupid. Because despite all of his attitude and temper and hardened look, Eddie Munson is a complete dork with a heart of gold. After all, the jocks and preps don't have a care in the world to take those who look like they've got no one and give them a place and a group to be a part of. No, only Eddie does that. He's done it since he was young, and even now, in his mid-twenties and having completed his Associate's degree to make his old man proud (the one who cared for him, not the one who left him), he still finds himself constantly looking out for people who may need a group. All the while, he keeps one eye open in search of Chrissy Cunningham - the girl who went off to college, got her fancy Bachelor's degree, and then, for some reason entirely unknown to Eddie, returned to her hometown to teach at the very same high school they'd both graduated from.

Eddie, meanwhile, had been stuck working at the auto shop since he'd graduated. Wayne had sat him down and insisted he needed to find real work, lest he get arrested for his extracurricular activities. The conversation, of course, had been prompted by Wayne finding a stash of pills his nephew had hidden (and then forgotten) in the bread box. He hadn't been happy, and had told Eddie he would not be going down for 'having them damn pills in my home.' Eddie had been a little embarrassed, but agreed to get a real job- so he'd chosen the shop. Luckily for him, it was in a perfect spot. It was on the street Chrissy Cunningham passed every morning on her drive to school, and every afternoon on her drive home. In the spring through the fall, she even walked most days - which gave Eddie the chance to say hello. He always tried to be as grease-free as he could, but some stains really just stuck, and he had a habit of wiping his face after changing the oil in his customers' cars... it didn't go well for him in the looks department.

What Chrissy thought of it, no one was the wiser. None of Eddie's friends really interacted with her. Half the kids were still off to college, Dustin being the furthest and at an Ivy League, so no one could spy or find information. Sure, El was still around, choosing to go to the local college with Max, but they definitely didn't speak to Chrissy. Mike, Will, and Lucas had their own college woes. And Steve and Robin... well, they'd gotten through community college too, eventually, but they stayed within their comfort zone. They didn't make new friends, and they certainly didn't hang out with the likes of Chrissy Cunningham. Nancy and Jonathan had done what they'd always said they'd do - they took the settlement money from the government and went to NYU together, staying in New York City to work at the Times, as journalist and photographer, respectively.

All of these things meant that Eddie was on his own. Except, of course, for his best friend. One of the craziest things about community college to him was that he met people from other towns. Imagine his shock when he met a girl there from a small town not 45 minutes away from Hawkins, studying music history for fun. He was a lover of music, sure, but he was taking the class for the sake of his liberal arts degree. This girl? She was finishing her Bachelor's at the local university and taking courses for fun at the local college. He'd found her fascinating, to say the least. It helped that she was, like him, a little different from the rest. They had similar (though not quite identical) music tastes, and fashion that made their conservative towns uncomfortable. It sparked an instant bond. He'd invited this girl out to Hawkins once, and they'd never looked back. They'd become inseparable. She'd moved out to Hawkins, somehow a nicer town than her own, especially as its commerce grew, and helped Eddie out of his slump. When Wayne had given him that talk, it was Eddie's new best friend who'd helped him nail the interview at the auto shop. It was she who helped him find his new apartment (conveniently a 5 minute walk away from her own), and it was she who listened as he gushed about good ol' Chrissy Cunningham.

So here you were, once again seated at the register at your job, listening to Eddie go on about Chrissy's outfit that day on her walk home from teaching at the school. Did it bother you? Absolutely not. There was no reason for it to bother you. He was just a friend. Your best friend. But... then why did your stomach sink whenever he brought her up? Why did your chest feel tight? Why did it feel hard to smile when he laughed about how cute she was when she'd dropped her purse, or whatever book she was carrying? Why did you-

The ringing of the bell above the door pulled you out of your spiral, if for but a moment. You looked up, never more grateful in your life than to see the likes of Steve Harrington, who'd been introduced to you early on in your friendship with Eddie. He was a good friend of yours now, and often came to visit you at work, as with the others who’d stayed behind, when they had the time. Often, he wanted to talk about the latest gossip to someone who wasn't Robin (after all, he couldn't very well tell Robin half of the things he experienced, because she was usually there to experience it with him). He gave Eddie a good, friendly slap on the back as he approached the counter, leaning his forearms on the counter and leaning forward to greet you. Eddie made a face, annoyed at having been interrupted, but not annoyed enough to voice it.

"Hiya, Stevie," you greeted him with a smile, eyes communicating your relief at his arrival.

"Hey!” He responded brightly, but your relief was short-lived, as Steve took this opportunity to smile suspiciously sweetly at you, "so, any chance you want to take my shift later?"

Your eyes narrowed at him, "so that's why you're here? To ask for a favor? Even though you still owe me for the last shift I covered?" He had the decency to look at least a little apologetic about that, and nodded.

"I swear I'll pay you back for both. But... remember that girl who's been coming in every week to see me? I ran into her today while getting lunch, and she actually agreed to a date tonight. I swear, I'll more than make it up to you if you just please help me out today. I'll beg, do you want me to beg?"

You put your hands up in surrender, "woah, okay. No need to tarnish your dignity like that. I'm good, I'll stay. It's not like I have plans anyway, so one of us might as well get a date. God knows we could both use the romantic luck," you rest your chin on your hand with a huff, and he thanks you about seven times before running back out, leaving just you and Eddie once again (and, well, the three customers browsing the aisles of the store).

"So..." Eddie started, trying to keep the conversation from awkwardness. "No luck on the dating front, then?"

You couldn't help but to shoot him a dirty look, before you rolled your eyes and sighed. "No. There's no- anyone in this damn town. No one interested, and no one interesting. Maybe I need to expand my horizons and take a road trip out to Indie," you huffed. Eddie shrugged, turning to lean his back on the counter as he continued chatting with you, picking at his nails all the while.

"I think I might ask Chrissy to go out tomorrow night. Think she'll say yes?" For some reason, the fact that your misery led to him talking about his hopeful date sparked anger in you, but you didn't let it show. Did you think Chrissy would go out with him? Maybe. She was so sweet, you didn't think she had any reason to say no. She'd give him a shot, at least. But that was the trouble, wasn't it? If she gave him a shot, she'd see how wonderful he was. And then, maybe, you'd lose him for good. Was that something you were cool with? It wasn't like you were together. It wasn't like he'd ever looked at you the way he looks at her. It wasn't like you were in love with him... was it?

That realization had you smacking your forehead lightly against the countertop behind the register, and Eddie turned around to look at you with a puzzled expression. "You good over there?"

You just managed a frustrated groan and the excuse, "just commiserating that everyone else has successful romantic lives and I'm stuck behind this register. Of course she'll say yes, she's too sweet to reject you, and you're awesome. Anyone who doesn't see my best friend's potential as a boyfriend is stupid and also rude." You finally looked up at him with what you hoped was a convincing smile. He couldn't help his own grin at that, feeling proud.

"It's totally settled, then. I'm going to ask her. What do you think she'll say to going to the new diner that opened up where Benny's old place was?" He asked, and you had to plaster on that fake smile again.

"Eddie, as long as you're there, she'll have a great time. Trust me." At least, it was true for you. If Eddie was present, you knew you’d have a great time. At least, most of the time. When he gushed about Chrissy, you had… less of a good time. But your compliment seemed to work, because he lit up like a christmas tree.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he gave you a beaming sort of smile, leaning over the counter to kiss your cheek. “I think I’m gonna go see if I can catch her on her lunch break. I’ll call you if it goes well!” He turned tail and ran, clearly excited. Luckily, he was gone so fast that he missed the way you deflated entirely.

You were happy for him, and would continue to be if he managed to date Chrissy. But it didn’t change that you’d be jealous of her. A relationship - especially with Eddie - was time-consuming and all-encompassing. He would spend his free time with her, and you’d be left behind. It was natural, after all. What girl would want her boyfriend hanging out with another girl one on one? The thoughts plagued you, until a customer called into the shop asking about whether a certain book was in stock or not. After that, your day managed to go by a little quicker.

You didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you were reading a book behind the counter and heard the bell ring as someone entered the store. Eddie slammed his hands down on the counter with a big grin, “guess what?” You peered up at him over your book and your heart sank, but you kept your expression clear for him.

“Hm… you’re a huge nerd?” You joked, and he made a face in response.

“She said yes! She’s actually going on a date with me!” His eyes were bright and excited. “She said she’s cool with diner food, so… tomorrow night, I’ve got a hot date with Chrissy Cunningham. Will you help me choose what to wear?” And he just looked so hopeful, that you couldn’t possibly say no to him. So you agreed, and he sat around with you until the end of your shift.

You wound up going back to his place that night, to help him in his search for an outfit. He even threw it in the wash so that he could smell good for his date. That night when you went to bed, you couldn’t help but to stare up at the ceiling and seethe for a few minutes, before letting sleep overtake you. Your dreams were the same as they always were - some shenanigans you got into with Eddie. Only tonight they held a different meaning, and when you woke up you were forced to reconcile with the information that was news even to you:

You were in love with your best friend.

You went into your shift early that morning, stopping for coffee at your favorite place before starting your day at the store. You were able to distract yourself then, as Saturdays were particularly busy days for book-buyers. You hadn’t thought about your revelation since you’d had it. You had refused to acknowledge it, in fact. Eddie was your best friend. And he was going on a date with Chrissy Cunningham tonight. There was absolutely no point in thinking any more about potential feelings that may or may not exist. So you spent the day working, and maybe pouting. A couple of your friends stopped by to say hi throughout the day, but noticed your demeanor and ended up just letting you mope.

Before his date, Eddie stopped by your job - and God, did it hurt. He looked so handsome. His curls were freshly washed and styled, his leather jacket hanging off of him like it was made for him, and his freshly washed jeans making him look more cleaned up than ever. When he opened up his jacket, he was proud to show off the button-up you’d helped him choose. ‘Dressy enough to be on a date, dressed down enough for jeans’ was what you’d told him. And his usual worn combat boots looked - almost good as new. When you asked about those, he was proud to say he’d spent his morning cleaning them with carpet cleaner and a toothbrush. Your heart ached that he’d never put that much effort in for you, not in that way.

Before he could leave, you approached him to fix his collar and a stray curl, making sure he looked his absolute best. You refused to meet his eyes for your own sanity, and if he noticed, he didn’t comment. He just let you work your magic, and when you finally stepped back, you gave him your most convincing smile, and wished him well. “Call me if you need anything at all. I’ll be home tonight, and tomorrow morning. I want to hear all about it,” lie. “She’s going to have a great time, not a doubt in my mind,” truth. “I’ll be rooting for you,” lie. “You’re gonna do great,” truth.

He smiled proudly, and thanked you before giving you a big hug. The smell of his good cologne (only brought out for funerals and weddings) threw you for a loop, and nearly strangled you, but you managed to squeeze him back. When he ran out with a quick “love ya!” you just fell back into your seat behind the counter for the last hour of your shift.

If you had any idea what was going on in Eddie’s head…

He’d only stopped by because he figured he should share in this exciting moment with his best friend. But something about your excitement had him feeling a little odd about the whole thing. And then you’d come up to him to help him straighten his shirt and fix his hair and you just wouldn’t look at him. He couldn’t understand why, but honestly, he was too focused on the fact that you were wearing your favorite perfume that day. He could tell you’d washed your hair that morning, too, because he caught a whiff of the shampoo you so loved. So when you didn’t look up and meet his eyes, he had to push down a weird feeling of disappointment. But he’d hugged you goodbye and you’d wished him luck, and that was that.

Or so he’d thought. He showed up to Chrissy’s to pick her up, a cute little townhouse near the center of town, and did all the gentlemanly things he was supposed to do. He’d brought her a small bouquet of daisies, and walked her to the car and opened her door for her - it was all pretty textbook. She smiled and laughed during the drive, and it had Eddie feeling like he was already on the right track with this girl.

Things did take a turn, though, when they actually got to talking after they’d ordered their meals. Because it would seem that Chrissy knew him better than he ever imagined she would.

“Can I ask you a question?” She’d asked him, hands folded in front of her as she leaned close in curiosity.

“Shoot,” he’d leaned back against the back of his seat, smiling.

“I know you mentioned yesterday that you’ve had a crush on me for years, and I found that so sweet of you, Eddie, but… aren’t you in love with - well… you know…” She didn’t say your name, but only because it felt a little major to bring up your name if he hadn’t considered it. But he blinked at her, puzzled, and she realized she had no choice. So she finished her question with your name, which made Eddie’s eyes go comically large.

“Sorry, what?” Was all he managed. His eyebrows slowly rose to his hairline, when she gave him a shy smile.

“Eddie… you hear yourself when you talk about her, don’t you?” She asked, a soft giggle in her voice. “I’m flattered, I am. And I think you’re really amazing, and would love to date you. But only if I thought you actually liked me. I’m not accusing you of lying, I just don’t think you realize just how you sound.”

Eddie was not a man often brought to speechlessness, but Chrissy’s question stopped him dead in his tracks. You? That wasn’t possible. You were his best friend. Comfortably listed in the “friends” category in his brain… or were you? Chrissy, sweet Chrissy, pointed behind him to the entrance, and said “oh, I guess her shift must have ended! She’s here now with someone!”

The speed at which Eddie whipped around to look was nearly breakneck. When he saw you were, in fact, not there, he turned back to Chrissy with a blush and an embarrassed look in his eye. She just gave him that warm smile and sweet giggle, “I’m sorry, Eddie. But that’s not something someone does for just a best friend. Have you ever thought about that?”

He took a moment to rewind and think about his conversation on the drive here. Admittedly, he’d told Chrissy a lot of stories about you. He started by telling her all about how he would gush to you about his crush on her, but then devolved into just telling her about the times you’d hung out, and the fun things you’d done together. When she’d mentioned a restaurant or fun activity, he’d talk about a time you’d discussed the same with him. So, okay, maybe he talked about you a lot. And sure, he had thought about how much he preferred your perfume over Chrissy’s when he’d picked her up at her place, but that didn’t mean anything, did it?

And then he thought about how he’d felt so off when you hadn’t met his eyes when fixing his date night outfit. He’d never voice that one out loud to Chrissy, but he’d wanted you to look up at him and smile, and see how handsome he looked. He’d tried hard. The more he thought about it, the bigger hole he felt he dug himself.

He blinked at her and groaned, burying his face in his hands in shame. “Shit. I think I’m in love with my best friend.”

Chrissy, to her credit, took it so sweetly. She giggled and just encouraged him, telling him he should tell you and get it out in the open. Eddie, however, was so afraid. Afraid he would be wrong about the whole thing and you wouldn’t be interested in him in return. It didn’t matter, in the end, because his date (and now friend) was rather persuasive, and convinced him to do it as soon as he saw you next. And before he knew it, he was paying for their date, and driving her home. He liked being friends with Chrissy, he realized, and didn’t exactly desire any more than that. He’d always wanted her to like him, and now he knew she did - in a more important way than romance. She liked him for who he was, and wanted him to be happy. She wanted to be his friend.

As soon as he dropped her off, she gave him a warning look and told him not to stray from his plan. It would work, and you’d be together in no time. He just thanked her and got back into his truck, driving home. His autopilot must have broken, however, because next thing he knew, he was pulling into the parking lot at your apartment. He sat there and stared at your door, the automatic light coming on and making his heart race. When he looked up, he saw the lights in your apartment were still on, signalling that you hadn’t quite gone to bed just yet. With his last hope of an excuse entirely extinguished, he got out of his car and stood at your front door for a few moments. Luckily, since you lived on the second floor, he got a minute to breathe before you saw him lingering at the door and freaked out about a stranger. So he took a chance, breathed, and did his special knock.

You had been wallowing in self-pity all night, watching your favorite romcoms and snacking on your favorite chips and dip combo. Anything to try and forget about the realization that you were in love with Eddie. It was the worst possible timing, really. After all, he’d been hopelessly single for so long. You had to realize the day he wanted to ask his longtime crush on a date? You spent a long while beating yourself up about that, but eventually accepted your fate and tried to think about literally anything else. Hence, movies and snacks. You’d even tried to pick up a book at one point, but you realized that even that had a romantic plot, and ended up throwing it onto your bed and returning to the movies. At least romantic comedies had comedy. You’d even cried during one of your all-time favorites, which was infuriating - you could hear Eddie’s teasing voice in your head about how crying over a dumb boy was so not metal. If only he knew. So naturally, when his signature knock came from your front door, you were puzzled.

You descended the stairs to the front door with your brows drawn together in confusion, opening the door in your pjs - soft pajama pants and a hellfire t-shirt you’d stolen from Eddie years prior. He was standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared at the apartment number next to your door. “Uh… hi? Shouldn’t you be on your date right now?” You asked, but opened the door further for him to enter. He shrugged and toed his boots off before heading up the stairs, leaving you to lock up behind him and follow - more confused than ever. “Eddie, is everything okay?”

He fell onto your couch and pulled the bowl of chips onto his lap, putting a chip in his mouth just to avoid answering the question. But you were too stubborn, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips. “Edward. What the hell?” He finally looked up at you with his big brown eyes at that, and had the decency to look a little shy.

“‘M not in love with Chris,” he mumbled with his mouth full. You didn’t quite understand (or, you thought you didn’t) so you made a face at him, and he waited until his mouth was no longer full to repeat “I’m not in love with Chris. She’s- great. But I’m not in love with her.”

Your self-pity melted away for a moment at his ridiculousness, “Eddie, you’ve been on one date. You’re not necessarily going to fall in love over burgers, dude.” You looked at him like he was only slightly insane, which he appreciated.

“Yeah, no, I know that,” he tugged at a strand of his hair. “I know that. I just… I am in love, y’know? Just- not with Chrissy.” And if that doesn’t confuse you even further. Your chest tightens for a moment, but he’s not making any sense, and you really just need him to stop being so cryptic.

“Honestly, Ed, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can you please just tell me what’s going on?” You sat next to him, facing him with your legs criss-cross. He refused to turn and face you, just setting the bowl of chips on the coffee table and staring down at his lap, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. You stared at him expectantly for a moment, and when he stayed quiet, you lightly punched his arm. “Speak, nerd.”

“Hey,” he finally pouted at you, rubbing his arm as if you’d punched him much harder. “I dunno! Chrissy had some enlightening shit to tell me. Apparently she knows me better than I thought she did. Actually, better than I know me. Which was super weird, by the way. I didn’t like feeling so exposed. But uh… She just opened my eyes. Turns out, I’ve been in love with someone for, like, a stupid long time.” When he stopped there, you almost punched him again, for leaving you on such a cliffhanger. He put his hands up in defense when he noticed. “Hey! Okay! I’m talking!”

He took a deep breath, “so, you won’t totally hate me for this, will you?” He felt he had to ask, and you made another face at him.

“I mean, depends on who you’re in love with. If you have really bad taste, then yeah. I might,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit. He gave you his most unimpressed stare and rolled his eyes, before tugging at his hair again, a nervous habit you found annoyingly cute.

“Uh- well. You, actually,” he said simply, with a nervous, almost self-deprecating chuckle. You blinked at him for a moment.

“I’m sorry, me? Me what?” You asked, the possibility simply not computing in your mind.

“You. I’m in love with you. Apparently been in love with you for awhile. Just didn’t notice because my head was too far up my own ass,” he said, finally meeting your eyes again, this time looking more sincere than he had in awhile. But you were skeptical, and afraid of having your feelings hurt.

“Eddie, where is this coming from? You’ve always had feelings for Chrissy. It was like, a fact, at this point. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Eddie Munson has a crush on Chrissy Cunningham. You don’t like me, you never have. Not- like that,” you told him, a little insecure. He didn’t really seem to have an answer except to lean over and kiss your cheek, his own cheeks bright red. Your eyes went wide and you stared at him for a moment, fighting your own thoughts. You stared at each other, equally wide-eyed, until you finally blurted out “I’m in love with you too. And it’s so weird because I never knew I felt this way until yesterday, and I finally understood why it irked me so much when you wouldn’t shut up about Chrissy.”

The admission caught you both off guard, and neither of you really knew how to respond. Eddie let out a curse under his breath before leaning in and capturing your lips in a hasty kiss, just quick and short but enough to have both of your hearts racing. You let out a squeak, and just stared at him again, before throwing your arms around him to hug him close, enjoying the smell of his shampoo, and his good cologne. You had no idea where this would take you, or if it would last. All you knew was that as long as he was there, you’d be just fine. As it turned out, Eddie Munson does not like Chrissy Cunningham. At least, not in the way he thought he did. He liked her as a friend, sure. But his real feelings could be found around the one person who’d been by his side since his first day of his music history class at the local community college. The girl whose nerd matched his, the girl who never needed him to be anything except what he was. A girl to whom he wasn’t too much, or not enough. Instead, he was just enough. Just loud enough, just obnoxious enough, just bossy enough, just funny enough, just clingy enough, just affectionate enough. And now that he had her for real, he would never ever let go.

#my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #stranger things #x reader #hy's writing #chrissy cunningham #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #my fic

115 notes · View notes