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lets-get-kraken-boys · 3 months ago

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💖✨ Just a yandere woman CEO obsessed with her adorable assistant <3 ✨💖

[⚠️WARNINGS⚠️: Not proofread I just wanted to post something because I miss you guys :3, LESBIANS this is a woman loving woman fic! Reader is portrayed as a female, 🔞 gets a little raunchy 18+ near the end with some kissing and touching but you don’t go too far, yandere, some talk of an affair but not regarding Reader or our lovely Ms. CEO]

Imagine an incredibly strict older woman who has learned to leave love and men in the past. She’s been running this company all on her own for several years now, it’s her life’s work and her pride and joy. She’s married to her work since she wouldn’t want to be married to anything else at the moment. Men only disappoint, so what's the point of even trying to form a relationship with one. After all, she's so well known now that anyone who is trying to form bonds with her now is after her fortune or her estate. A waste of time.

Then, she met you.

You came to her agency one afternoon for a meeting of your boss' company and hers, something about collaborating together to build up the value of both of your stocks. Whatever, it wasn't like she needed extra cash in her pocket, but she was willing to listen if he proved to be entertaining.

Though she wasn't really looking forward to creating a partnership with the obviously money-hungry man, her eyes widened when he brought you into the room after their introductions. You were his assistant at the time, and he made sure to get good use out of you. She could tell he ran you ragged from hell and back. You slouched a little and you looked quite uncomfortable in the scarlet red stiletto heels he no doubt required you to wear. However, through the exhaustion, she could see your bright eyes, gorgeous smile, and beauty beyond it all. It was more than beauty though. She felt like she'd seen you before in a dream, like she's known you for a lifetime and more. You're so familiar, yet she knowns she's never met you before.

Despicable. To force such a stunning woman such as yourself run ragged around the town. She could provide so much better for you, she would make you see that.

During the meeting all she could do was stare at you. How you fixed your hair back out of your face as you wrote notes on your laptop, how you answered you boss' questions with hesitancy and a sort of weak tone. She wanted to snap his head off when he barked at you to speak up and "show some respect for your employer". Yet he acted like the perfect, charming gentleman towards herself. She couldn't take this anymore. She called a 15 minute break and said she needed a moment to think over his "compelling" proposition.

As you walked off, she discreetly trailed behind. You headed to the restroom and she made a point to hang outside by the communal coffeemaker. When you came out, she came up to you with a Styrofoam cup and a gentle smile. Just seeing the way your pretty eyes brighten up at the kind gesture made her heart soar, and the shiver that raced down her spin when your fingers brushed against her made her feel electric.

You two chatted for the remainder of the break, and she strategically dropped the question over you and your boss' situation. She provided her shoulder to cry on as you lamented your woes over you boss, how he's...nice yeah right but he can be a little tough at times. The position pays well enough and it's nice to not have to work in the hot sun all day as your income, but it would be nice to not have to run around the town and retrieve miniscule things as his little lap dog all the time.

She simply slipped you a her card and gave you wink (you couldn't help but notice there was a strange, darker look in her eyes as she scanned you up and down) and told you to stop by whenever you felt the urge, but to look at the back of the card when you head out. As she walked off to go deny that selfish bastard's shit of an idea, you looked down at the card. On paper was a date and time for two days from now right below her name and the address of her agency.

~~~

It had been three months since that fateful day and she couldn't be happier.

She held a private meeting, just the two of you she can't wait to start calling these meetings a date, those two days later. She offered you a position as her personal assistant at her company instead of your current employer. When you thought of declining, she passed a piece of paper over to you that read a number with more zeros than you could process. She said this is what you would make a year with full benefits and plenty of opportunity for growth as it would be the base amount you'd make. It was easily triple your current salary.

With little hesitation, you put in your two weeks with your company, and with a swift call on from her side, you never had to go back to that company to fulfill those two weeks. She said he owed her a favor of some kind and he would repay it through letting you be free she actually found juicy blackmail material of him and one of his employees for a scandalous affair against his wife, but she would never tell you that.

In no time, you begun being her little pet. The job was great at first; she treated you with great respect, patience, and the tasks she gave you weren't even that difficult. It was like a dream come true. Then, it begun to change.

Suddenly, she enforced a dress code policy that felt like it only applied to you. It was mandatory for "all women or female presenting" read just for you workers in her establishment to done pencil skirts, sleek high heels, and a blazer that cut down deep into the cleavage. Don't worry about not meeting the dress code, she'll help you out! When you explained you didn't have many clothes of this variety in your closet, she quickly cleared her day and went on a shopping spree with you. Luxury brands, private fitting rooms, tailors and seamstresses all around took your measurements and were sent off to construct a dozen and more outfits for you to wear in the office. All the while, Ms. CEO sat and watched you model the attire. If the skirt wasn't short enough, she'd direct them to hem a few inches higher. If the cut wasn't deep enough on the blazer, she'd come in close and open the blazer to her desired bust viewing. You couldn't help but heat up tremendously as she worked her way around you, staring at your everything, and touching what felt like all of your intimate parts.

After that was done, she took you to a decadent lunch at a high class restaurant where the waiters and chefs seemingly all knew her by first name. She finished her small portion rather quickly, but she made a point to move her chair next to yours and chat beside you. You felt uncomfortable with her being so close and not eating, but she insisted you continue your food, saying she liked to watch you eat as the expressions you made at the exquisite food filled her more than any other meal could. She kept it to herself that it was mostly because it fueled her desire to know that she could provide for you. To feed you and clothe you. It was paradise to finally have someone to spoil.

At the end of the day, she took you back to your home in her private limo with her driver at the helm. She walked you to your front door, thanked you for indulging her and for such a wonderful day, and bid you a good night. She kissed the back of your hand, leaving behind a bloody red mark of a lipstick kiss as she marked you as hers. Her cute little assistant. She couldn't wait to make you her wife, and that joy carried her home the entire drive home.

~~~

One last idea: Our lovely Ms. CEO needs to attend a super ritzy, widely news pressed, gala of some sort, but she needs a partner to go with her! Everyone else is bringing a date, she'd be mortified she's could care less what the press thinks to be sent alone for the seventh year in a row.

So, she asks you to go with her as her sexy arm candy date. You reluctantly agree since you're just that nice and would hate her to feel humiliated going alone. :((

She's got you right where she wants you, darling~

So, you two go. She picks you up the day before, takes you to get a custom dress made personally for you. Skimpy and tight for her to eye fuck you and devour you all night, but still classy enough that you'll be the most elegant person attending.

You two walk in with the interviewers dotted around going nuts for her showing up with a date this year. You flush and make a point to clarify you aren't dating, but she pulls you along with a scoff at the newscasters.

She pulls you inside, and you two mingle, you never being allowed to stray from her side. She takes you over to the fancy bar, and loads you up with drink after drink, saying she wants you to enjoy the evening and have fun. However, with every drink she pushes on you, you realize too late that she's hardly even nursed the first drink she got an hour ago. You feel light headed and are no doubt way past tipsy.

She pulls you off with a grin, coddling you and holding your face, asking if you were alright in a babying tone. After meekly nodding your head, she yanks you over to the dance floor. She pulls you in close, and since she's at least a head taller than you, she makes sure that you rest your head on her breast. She sways you back and forth on your wobbling knees and you feel hot. You can feel every part of her body smooshed up against yours.

You whine at her hand gripping your hips as they drift lower to your thighs and ass. She whispers sweet nothings in your ears, pressing her red lipstick-covered lips against your ear when she nibbles.

You can't stop her as she pulls you away from the crowd and back to her limo. Once inside, she's kissing you senseless and maneuvering one of her hands to keep you shoved deep into her open-mouthed kiss. All you can acknowledge is her tongue stroking yours in a sensual curl and her other hand shimmying up the deep slit in your fancy dress to dance her fingers around your cute white panties.

You're starting to wonder if the money is really worth it anymore.

Can you guys tell I have no idea how big companies or money work? Lol, no, this was in no way, shape, or form meant to be a realistic view of how CEOs or big companies run. I just want a sexy dominate woman to adore me obsessively, pay for my wants and my desire for pretty dresses, and screw me senseless til I see stars.

Teehee~! ✨💖

Love,

Kraken 🐙

#x reader #yandere x reader #yandere ceo #yandere woman #yandere lesbian #yandere ceo x reader #yandere lesbian x reader #yandere woman x reader #yandere wlw #random character can be applied to anyone you want #but mostly just a fictional woman in my fanatsy teehee #smut #yandere smut #female reader #yandere x female reader #female x female reader

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iwassupremacy · 10 months ago

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Good Girl

Sawamura Daichi x f reader

Part two

Summary: your whole life all you ever wanted to be was faithful and pure. Saving yourself for marriage to honor God and your Family. You would never give in to any kind of sin. At least that’s what you thought. Until one day you met him. He was so gentle and so loving and so so… dirty. How did you get into this mess?!

Warnings: smut, safe sex, aged up characters, softdom!Daichi, sub!reader, inexperienced!reader, virgin!reader, first time, crisis of faith, blasphemy (kinda), reader has mommy issues, lots of praise, also lots of begging, petnames, nipple play, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, big dick Daichi, penetration, mentions of multiple orgasms, Daichi’s a consensual king!!

Let me know if I missed anything.

“Amen”

You left church in your floaty white dress. It was a little too short for your liking, so you felt a little bad all through the service but it was such a hot summer day that you just had to make a little exception.

You thought to yourself that it for sure won’t be a problem since you’ve been so good all your life. As long as your mother didn’t see it would be fine. For her you just never tried hard enough. Never were good enough. But you had God. So who else would you even need to be truly happy, right?

“C’mon babyyy, you’re gonna love it! I just know it. The music will be soo good. And if it makes you feel any better I will be driving, so we both won’t be drinking. Even though, I have to say, I think it won’t kill you to have a shot or something and a little fun here and there. I’m sure Jesus will forgive you.” your best friend tried to convince you, once again.

She does this every second Friday of every month since every second Saturday they would play your favorite music at her favorite club.

You never understood why it was so important to her for you to get so close to potentially dinning. She called it fun.

You called it temptation. Alcohol wasn’t really a sin in itself. It was rather what could come from drinking it.

“I’m not seeking anyone’s forgiveness. I don’t want to give God a reason to have to forgive me.” You never once in your life even had to confess.

“Whatever. Please come? I am begging you!”

Most of the time you said no, so it really surprised you that she never gave up.

She was just so persistent.

“Okay I’ll go. Under one condition. You don’t ask me for at least three months.”

Most of the time you said no. Not every time. Maybe one of the reasons why she never stopped asking.

“Deal!”

“I am so not wearing this. Not a chance.” You looked at the tiny blue dress your best friend held in her hands. Not only was it way to short but it was also very tight. You had seen it on her before and it was beautiful but just too revealing for the way you were raised.

“C’mon don’t be such a prude! You’d look so hot and… if I can say. Fuckable. Not that you have to fuck but you’d certainly not pay ANYTHING tonight.”

“Stop it. I’m not being a prude, I just have my beliefs and values. So I would like to wear this please. What’s wrong with this?”

She looked down on you raising her eyebrows and sighing. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s cute I guess. Just not for a club. You look like you’re gonna sell me a house or something.”

She probably had a point. You were wearing a pencil skirt and a blouse after all.

“Okay so I have a few tricks up my sleeve that would make you look like you just got of off work and went to the club right after. Sexy but still formal. What do you say?”

You gave in. She had to have her fun every once in a while. You too were so different that most of the time it surprised you she was even friends with you. “Okay let’s do it.”

“And??”

“It looks… good. I’m actually surprised. Thank you.”

“I knew you would like it! Ah I am a genius.” she said in a sing sang voice.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. The first three buttons of your blouse were opened which was just enough to expose your collarbones but not your cleavage. Your hair was pinned up messily. Just as if it once was sleek and fell apart because you were at work or generally doing something.

You looked down. Your skirt was at knee length and even though you purposefully picked it it just didn’t fit the vibe.

You sighed. She’s gonna love this you thought.

“Do you have a mini skirt? Or, i don‘t know, a pencil skirt that’s a little shorter than mine? I don’t like the way this looks.“

She let out a little squeak of excitement. „Yes! I have the perfect skirt for you.“

Pulling on the black denim skirt the third time in 10 minutes you wondered what you were thinking agreeing to this. Sure you went to the club before but never in anything this revealing. Your thighs were out!

At least it covers my ass for all I know…

“10$ and ID please.” you did as you were told by the security and after getting through you were immediately introduced by the smell of sweat and alcohol, naked bodies and loud music.

“I’m gonna get myself a drink and a hot man to pay. You should do the same! Or should I bring you a coke later on?” She screamed over the sound of hips don’t lie.

“I’ll be fine go and have fun!”

It was kinda always like this which was one of the many reasons why you didn’t understand why she needed you to come with her in the first place.

Of course you danced together and she would never leave without you but the first two hours you were without an exception always alone.

That was the time where she found herself any good looking young man to flirt with and get drunk without paying.

Sometimes she even made out with these men but it rarely happened.

Later she always came back to you very tipsy and you guys danced the night away until your feed hurt.

Of course her understanding of dancing the night away was very different from yours but so far that was never a problem.

You had different lifestyles but deep down the same morals and values which is what was most important.

“Can I?”

Your had quickly turned around and collapsed with the hard chest of a tall man.

Out of reflex he put his hand on your waist which caused you to jump and immediately take two steps back.

„Sorry?“

You stared at him a little too long for your liking. But he was just so gorgeous. Sharp jaw line, short black hair with an undercut, subtle hint of a beard and oh so many muscles.

„I asked you if I you could let me pass. I kinda need to get to the bar my friend is hitting on a random woman. Again.“

You blinked just now finding a way back to reality.

„Yes! Sorry!“

Quickly you took a step aside.

The stranger chuckled. „Don’t worry. It’s not that important. He just can be very- persistent.“

You couldn’t help but take a look at the bar. Only spotting your best friend who already held her first drink of the night in her hand and was sitting dangerously close to a young man with greyish hair.

Tonight there would be a little make out session. You could already tell.

„Who‘s your friend?“ you asked still not looking back at him.

Suddenly he was really close. His hand on your back, right between your shoulders, his head next to yours. You could literally feel this strange man everywhere.

For some reason it didn’t bother you. In your eyes he was still very polite about it.

„See him over there? Right next to the girl in pink.“

Now you looked at him. More shocked than anything else though.

„Gray hair?“

„Yes gray hair. Why‘re you so surprised? He‘s not that old.“ the man laughed

„Ohh yeah I‘m sure of that.“ you let out a child like giggle. „The girl in pink is my best friend. So no need to worry. I bet she hit on him first.“

He let out a loud laugh and looked at you. “Then these two belong together I suppose, hm.” His expression suddenly changed to something way more serious and he said:

“Maybe you and I belong together as well. I believe in fate, do you, sweetheart?” His voice was so deep and his aura so masculine that it made you feel all shy.

“And then he said don’t take it the wrong way as if he didn’t just say the most vile thing to my face!” Daichi, you found out that was his name right after the two of you decided to spend the rest of the night together, chuckled. “It’s interesting what you call vile. At least to me it’s rather a statement than an insult.”

You gulped looking at your empty glass. “He called me fuckable. In the presence of my mother and father. It’s disrespectful.”

“It’s true.” You chocked looking at him in disbelief. Did he just call you fuckable?! “Wouldn’t’ve said it in front of your family, of course. But it’s true nonetheless.”

You felt his eyes peering into your soul. Staring you down as if he waited for you to say something. Do something. Instead you stood up. “I need- I’m going to get a new soda. See ya.” And then you left him behind. Feeling his eyes following your every move.

When you came back Daichi was on his phone, seemingly not paying any more thought to what had just happened. Being a gentleman man once again, he put his phone down, the moment he noticed you. Smiling at you in a calming manner. As if he senses your unsure demeanour.

“What is it with you?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” You frowned.

“There’s something about you. Something I can’t explain. You seem so- pure? But not childlike. Mature and confident. But still shy and bashful when talking about sex or alcohol. You’ve surely done those things, right? I mean you must be my age. Everyone has done those things by now.”

You blushed. You fricking blushed. Not once in your life were you ever embarrassed of your inexperience and most definitely not about the reason why. But now. Now you were. Not embarrassed by your religion or its beliefs of course, but by your lack of a response. Instea you started to stutter like a child. He interrupted your little stammer of words.

“You’re a virgin. Aren’t you?” You chocked on your spit. Quickly trying to gain back some semblance of confidence. “I am, yes. I don’t see any shame in that.”

“No, no, you’re right. There isn’t. It just surprises me. What are you waiting for? The one?” He let out a unbelievable loud laugh. As if that was the most ridiculous thought he’d ever thought about.

“Marriage, actually. I am very religious, you know. That’s also why I haven’t been drinking tonight.” He looked at you, eyes wide open. Mouth lightly agape. Now it was you who laughed, even if only quietly.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to- I didn’t want to disrespect you or your beliefs. I- god this is embarrassing. I’m sorry. Really.”

“It’s okay. You couldn’t have known. I know there aren’t many religious people who actually live it all out. Doesn’t bother me of course, everyone should have the right to do as they want. I just chose this way.”

“Did you, though? Or did your family tell you it was the only right way?” He asked suddenly being very close. His hot breath fanning over the side of your face. You gulped.

“They did teach me many things of course. Especially my mother. Like that alcohol is only for special occasions, we only ever drink wine when I’m at church for example. Or that I am to cover myself to a certain level. My body shall only be seen by my future husband. She also taught me sex isn’t for pleasure. It’s an act of love-“ he turned your face towards him with two fingers. Staring at you. “and- and-”

“And?” He raised his eyebrows, smirking.

“And it should be intimately, with my future husband only. To make- a family. A woman shouldn’t-“ his finger carefully touched your lower lip, pulling it down a little. You took a deep breath. Taking his wrist and removing his hand from your face.

“A woman shouldn’t give herself away to just anybody.”

He nodded slowly. Still looking at you intensely. “And I get that. One question though. Did they tell this to the men too? You have a brother, right? You told me so. Does he have to safe himself for marriage? Is he allowed to give himself away whenever he likes or does he have to cover his body and wait for his wife to come along and make love to him intimately to make a family? Answer me and if the answer pleases me I’ll leave you be.”

You sighed. Truthfully you’ve thought about this before. Especially when you were younger and had a little crisis of faith. You’d pushed it down though. This is how it was to be. Him out there and you in church.

“No. He doesn’t. But that doesn’t matter he’s a-“ Daichi interrupted you. “Of course he doesn’t. He’s a man. He gets to fuck whom ever he likes, whenever he likes. No, sweetheart, this doesn’t satisfy me.”

Was he angry? For you? Or for himself?

“You only say this because you want to fuck me. You said it yourself. I’m fuckable.”

“Maybe. But maybe it’s bold of you to assume that and I actually only feel empathy towards you.”

He again placed two fingers on your chin, making you look at him. He leaned in, until his mouth was right next to your ear. He whispered now. “But you’re right. I wanna fuck you. Wanna fuck you real good. Make you feel things you could only dream of feeling. Make you cum as many times as your body can handle. And then tomorrow I wanna take you on a real date. Spoil you rotten and treat you like you deserve. Wanna make you feel like a real woman. Not a little girl in a golden cage. Though I would like to cage you like this.”

He pressed against your body with his until you whimpered and had nowhere to hide. “Would you like that, sweetheart? Hm? You can tell me, no one can hear us. Your mother can’t hear you when you’re with me.”

Your breath sped up, your hands subconsciously grabbing Daichis shoulders, squeezing them. It was all too much. You felt so overwhelmed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. That never mattered. I never mattered.”

Slowly he moved back, synchronously moving his hand from your chin to your cheek, wiping your tears away. You didn’t even realise that you were crying.

“‘M sorry. It’s just not that easy for me. I know you’re technically right. I just- I’ve been raised this way. I’ve learned I’ll go to hell any other way.”

You started crying even more and he wiped away every single tear, letting you cry in silence until there were no more tears and he kissed your forehead.

“I know, baby. I know.” The petnames made your heart flutter. You’ve never had someone call you anything other than your name. Except for your best friend, but that was different from this.

Speaking of. Daichis head turned from you to your friends, still sitting at the bar, flirting and occasionally making out.

“Tell me, do you think, she’ll go to hell?” His head turned back to you, frowning.

You frowned along with him. “What? No! Of course not. She’s such a kind hearted person with a warm soul who loves and cares for everyone around her. She’s just got different morals than I do. She’d never go to hell. She’s too good for that.”

Daichi smiled. Cute he thought. The way you were talking about her.

“But she’s done all those things. She’s had sex. She drinks. She’s drunk right now! She dresses revealing. Hm? She does all those things. Why don’t you?”

You sighed again, staring to become a headache. Shaking your head you leaned into him, putting your forehead on his chest. You’ve never been so close to a stranger, especially not a man. But there was something about him that made you feel safe. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

Daichi put his hand on the back of your head, slowly unpinning your hair and running his fingers through it. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll stop talking about it now. I promise.”

For the rest of the night Daichi and you got back to talking about more meaningless stuff, laughed and got to know each other better.

You learned that he used to play volleyball in Highschool and that some of his former teammates are on the national team now and that he knows and meets most of the regularly, but he just continued it as a hobby and is now a policeman.

After the exhausting talk earlier, you decided, one drink would be fine. You needed it.

At first you wanted to go get a glass of wine at which Daichi just laughed. “You won’t get any wine in a place like this, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I know what to get you.”

He came back five minutes later with another beer for himself and a cocktail for you. Sex on the beach. The irony. You shook your head, laughing, but drinking it anyway.

One cocktail quickly turned into two and now you were feeling much better. A little lightheaded, but better.

After a few more hours your best friend and her company, Sugawara, finally decided to grace you with their presence. They were very drunk, but also very happy. Holding hands and giggling at each other. You smiled. It’a been a while since you’ve seen her like this.

“We’ve just realised- you’re our best friends! This guy is Sugawaras best friend and Y/N, you’re my besssst- friend! And you’ve met- and we have too!” Your best friend slurred, hiccuping several times.

Daichi laughed, patting Sugawara on the back. “Nice that you’ve come to realise that as well. Come on.” He took your hand. Your best friend gasped, but you glared at her, so she didn’t say anything. “Let’s get a cap, hm?”

The taxi driver drove to Sugawaras place first, your best friend leaving the car with him without ang explanation. As if they agreed on this long before they came back to you.

Daichi and you looked at each other, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Until the taxi driver looked back at you. “Where to, next?”

The car suddenly got really quiet. “Come with me to my place. We won’t have to do anything except watch a movie and go to sleep. I was serious before. I wanna take you out tomorrow. And I wanna spend the night with you.” Daichi said.

You blushed. “Okay. I’ll come.”

Daichi opened the door to his apartment, carefully placing his hand on your back and leading you inside. You felt wobbly. The alcohol had just hit even more. So he made sure to steady you. “You okay?”

“Yea. I’m sorry. Just not used to more than a glass of wine.”

“That’s okay. I feel light headed too. Once we’re sleeping it’ll wear off. I’ll bring you water.”

While he was away, you got rid of your uncomfortable shoes. Staring at him moving in the kitchen. He was so tall and muscular. Fuck. You wanted him so bad.

So when he came back, you didn’t drink his water. Instead you set it aside and stepped closer to him. Until you were so close, you had to look up at him. As if out of instinct his hands landed on your waist.

“Daichi.” You whispered. Putting your hands on his shoulders. He didn’t say anything, instead he pulled you in even closer so that your chest touched his. “Daichi, please.”

“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me.” He squeezed your waist and you bit your lips.

“Please take me. I- I want you. Please.” You didn’t know where this sudden urge came from, just a few hours ago, you didn’t even so much as touch yourself and now you were begging a stranger to fuck you. but he stirred something inside you and it made you feel so good. So special.

“That’s the alcohol talking, Y/N. You will regret this in the morning.” Still he didn’t step back as if he wait for you to convince him. So you did.

“I might. But Daichi, you’ve been so understanding and kind. I- I don’t think I want to do this with anyone but you. You can lead me through this and if I regret it in the morning, I feel you’re the only man who wouldn’t take it personal and calm me down. Please. I want this. I want you. I- I want you to do all the stuff you said earlier. Make me feel like a real woman. Please.”

He grunted. He fucking grunted. “Shit okay, baby. I’ll do it. I’ll make you feel so desirable and so so good.”

And just like that he slammed his lips against yours. Quickly moving them. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, urging you to open your mouth. But you backed away. Never having kissed anyone like this, it was hard for you to keep up. “I don’t-“

“It’s okay, let me take the lead. Do what I do. I am not judging you. You’re doing so good. Were so brave begging me to fuck you, hm? Let me do it then, I’ll be careful. You’re okay?” You nodded. “No, talk to me, baby. I wanna hear you.”

“I- Yes. Yes, I’m okay. Please kiss me again.”

Daichi chuckled. “Such a good girl, fuck.”

And then he kissed you again. And again. And again. Until all you could think about was him and his hands that lifted you up and put you on the table right next to your glass of water.

His tongue forced its way in your mouth and circled yours. Your breath hitched when his hands opened all the buttons of your blouse and squeezed your breast. From there they wandered to the back and opened your bra as well.

“This okay?” He whispered, his breath fanning over your lips. You whimpered again. “Yes, please.” He moved back. First removing your blouse and then, very sensually, your bra. “You keep begging me, but you’re not telling me what you want me to do.”

He talked to you but he didn’t look you in the eyes. Instead he shamelessly stared at your breasts. It made you feel tingly and your thighs subconsciously pressed together. Resisting the urge to cover yourself and look away you said. “I want you to touch me. Please.”

One of his hands cupped your cheek, his thumb caressing your lips. The other one traced your body occasionally pinching one of your nipples while now staring you in the eyes. You tried to bite your lip to not make a sound, but you couldn’t because of his thumb so instead you whined.

“I am touching you, aren’t I? You need to be more specific, sweetheart. Where do you want me to touch you?”

“Everywhere.”

“Everywhere? Like- here?” His hand moved up to your collarbone. “Or here?” He brushed over your shoulder, over your arm, past your elbow and took your hand. “Or maybe” he removed his second hand from your mouth and took your free hand with it, harshly pressing both your hands on the surface of the table with his. “you want me to touch you with my mouth?”

He lowered himself a little bit, never breaking eye contact and then kissed right between your breasts. “You want that, sweetheart?”

You squirmed under his gaze. You would really like to grab his hair and just yank him where you needed him most. “Yes! Yes please, Daichi, you’re being mean!”

“You have no idea how mean I can actually be, princess.” And then he finally took one of your buds in his mouth. Sucking and biting at it ever so gently.

“Ohh God” you let your head fall back and closed your eyes, biting your lip and pushing your chest up in his face. “please, please, please. More. I need more.”

“God’s not here, baby. Just me. I am the one making you feel like this. You feel good?” He licked over your bud one last time and then switches sides. Doing what he did before.

You shuddered. “Yes. Yes I- I feel good. You’re making me feel so- good, Daichi. Please. I need more of y- you.” Your breath quickened, your thighs presses together and your head started to feel dizzy.

“You’re so good, Y/N. Pleading and begging me so nicely. You’re all desperate just from a little nipple play. You’re perfect.”

The way he said your name made you feel so much. Horny. Desired. Happy. Just everything.

And then suddenly it all stopped. He let go of your hands and of your breast and just looked at you. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

His constant praise made you blush. “Thank you.”

“Such a good girl. Come on.” He took your hands again, this time more carefully, leading you of the table. “I’m not taking your virginity here. Let’s move this to my bed, hm?”

On the way to his bedroom, Daichi got rid of his shirt and jeans, leaving you too stunned to say anything. Everything about him was hot. You didn’t know where to look. And so far you only saw his backside.

When you wanted to do the same and get rid of your skirt, he somehow noticed and, without turning around, stopped you. “Don’t. I’ll be doing that myself.” Shit.

Finally in his room Daichi stopped before his bed and turned around. His chest was even better than his back. So pretty and muscular. But you didn’t dare to look further than that.

“Come here.” He said, so you did. Stepping closer to him only in your skirt and panties underneath. Chest open and bare, but he not once stopped looking right in your eyes. Not even when he started to slowly get on his knees.

That’s when it hit you. Suddenly you took a big step backwards. Away from him. Feeling embarrassed. Without saying anything Daichi came back up. He was obviously confused, but not really surprised. Probably only wondering what exactly made you reconsider. So he asked.

“What is it, sweetheart? You have to tell me otherwise I can’t help you.”

“I am not- I didn’t- shave. I never had a reason to do it so far. I sometimes trim in the summer but I- it’s been a while. I’m sorry. I don’t-“ you started rambling in a panic. And even though Daichi found it cute, he didn’t want you to panic. So he interrupted you.

“You think I care? Because I don’t. If you feel ashamed about it and want to stop than that’s okay and valid. But don’t think you have to because of me. I want to eat you out either way. If you let me.”

Your entire face heated up and you looked away. He was so straightforward about this stuff. “Okay.”

“Okay, what? Look at me when you say it, sweetheart. And be more specific.” So you did.

“Okay, we can keep going. I want to continue. Please.”

“Such a good and polite girl. You wanna keep going? You gonna let me eat that pussy, baby? You want that? Hm?”

“Yes. Please.”

Without saying another word he again got on his knees carefully peeling your skirt off. Leaving you in your bright blue panties. He chuckled. They almost looked like boxer shorts. “They’re more comfortable…” you muttered.

“Don’t apologise. I think it’s cute.”

He grabbed your thighs and slowly spread them apart, kissing their insides, sucking and leaving marks. And then finally, you moaned. Not whined. Not whimpered. Moaned.

“Fuck. You sound so good baby. You like it when I kiss you here? Down where no one can see? Mark you up just for you and me to know. Hm?”

One of your hands buried itself in his messy hair, the other found its place on his shoulder, squeezing. You didn’t dare look at him, so you closed your eyes, sighed and nodded. Subconsciously pressing your lower body in his face.

He let this one slide. You were clearly overwhelmed. So he just hooked his fingers in your panties and pulled them down to your feet. You cringed at the feeling of how sticky they were from your wetness.

Daichi cursed. “Fuck.” The carpet most definitely matched the drape and you weren’t lying, you didn’t shave or trim in some time, but he’d seen more bush before. He liked how your little clit still peaked through. God, he wanted to lick it so bad. But first he had to get you to bed.

Without a warning he lifted you up and practically threw you onto his bed. Crawling on top of you. And even though you tried not to stare and be polite, you still got a good look of his body when he did so. How was that supposed to fit inside of you?! And you so far only saw its outline.

Daichi kissed his way down your body. This time paying a lot less attention to your breasts and quickly getting where he wanted to be.

He spread your legs as wide as he can, finally getting a good look at your glistening cunt which was equally spread. “So fucking pretty. Shit.”

Then he flattened out his tongue and took a long swipe from your asshole to your clit. “Oh fuuuck! Daichi!” Your hand again found its way to his hair. Grabbing it, slightly tucking. The other one landed on your own head, covering your eyes.

You would’ve never imagined it to be so good.

And Daichi really had no mercy. Licking. Sucking. Even biting. His tongue switched up between circling your clit and fucking your hole.

Your moans and choked sounds were like music to his ears. They were addictive and he needed more. So he went harder, faster. More reckless. Your body squirmed, back arched and legs shaking. You needed more too. He could tell.

“Gonna fuck you with my fingers, yes, princess?”

“Yes! Ahh. Anything you want. Just do it. Please.”

At first his fingertips just brushed your hole. Teasing you and gathering your juice, spreading it all over your cunt. Everything was so messy.

Then he finally put one inside. Tauntingly slow. It was easy and painless, giving how wet you were at this point.

“Move!” You rolled your hips trying to get some friction. It felt as if you had lost all control over your body.

“Are you leading now? Are you giving me orders? That’s how it is now?” He teased, slowly starting to remove his finger.

“No! No, no, no. Please, I‘m sorry. I‘m sorry!“ you tried to follow his finger with your hips but Daichi stopped you with his free hand. “Behave, princess. Only then I‘ll give you what you want.“

Your hips automatically came to a halt. “‘M sorry.“

“It‘s okay, I know your just desperate.“ he finally got back to work, putting his finger in all the way, slowly moving it in and out and his tongue found your clit once again. You moaned and threw your head back, pressing it into the pillow beneath you. He felt you harshly tuck at his hair, trying to yank his head closer which made him moan as well.

The vibrations of his moaning went through your entire body and you looked down at him, meeting his stare. The intensity of it it and the way it didn‘t falter made you whimper. That‘s when you saw it. He was grinding his hips against the mattress. “Daichi-“

His head lifted and you could see your wetness being spread all around his mouth. Your face heated up and you looked away. Daichi chuckled at that and wiped his face with his free hand. “What is it? What do you need, baby?“

“Need you- need you to fuck me.“ Your breath hitched when his finger stopped. “You‘re not ready yet, sweetheart. Need to prep you more.“

“No. I can take it, I promise. Please, I need you.“ You pulled him up so he was face to face with you and placed both your hands on his cheeks. “Please? I promise, I‘ll tell you if I feel any discomfort.“

He sighed and nodded. He just couldn’t deny you. That‘s when your hands went down to his underwear and started to remove it. “You gotta tell me or I‘ll punish you, you hear me?“

Your hands came to a halt and your breath hitched, but you nodded. “Good girl.“

Without looking down you took him in your hand. It felt weird. Heavy and big, with a slight curve and a big vein on the side. You wondered how it would feel inside you without a barrier but you wouldn’t dare risk that. Daichi neither. He groaned at the feeling of you subconsciously stroking him. “There‘re condoms in the upper drawer. Take one of them.“ So you opened the drawer and mindlessly took the first on out you could get a hold of.

You wanted to give it to him but he stopped you. “That one has taste, princess. We don‘t need that today.“

You gulped. You wanted to. But you were to shy and horny to voice your needs. So you just put it back and took a different one, this time taking a look in the drawer, so you wouldn‘t make the same mistake again and gave it to him. “Very good. You‘re being so good for me.“

All this praise made you feel sp light headed and proud. Growing up you‘d never received much of it since your mother was so strict with you. “Thank you.“

He smiled and stroked your cheek and hair before putting on the condom. You watched him, blushing at the immense size. “This will be a little painful at first because you didn‘t let me prep you properly. I‘ll go slow and careful but I need you to tell me if it‘s too much, do you understand?“

“Yes. I understand.“

“Good girl. Are you comfortable?“ You nodded but quickly muttered a quiet yes when you saw his disapproving face. He took your hands in his and pressed them onto the mattress, kissing you.

You soon melted and relaxed in the kiss which was much slower and more sensual than the one on the table. Not breaking the kiss Daichi lined himself up at your entrance and started to gently force his way inside you. You winced, accidentally biting his lip which only made him moan.

He was right, it was painful. But it wasn‘t unpleasant, just weird. He urged himself further and you started to feel really full, but when you broke the kiss and looked down, you realised that he was only half wat inside you. “Oh.“

“Want me to stop? I will.“ he said through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. It was clear to you how much he had to hold back. “No, it’s okay. Please keep going“

He nodded and moaned when he continued. “You‘re so fucking tight, shit.“ The way you made him feel good, made you feel so good as well and despite the pain you moaned along with him. You wanted him to feel good.

He stopped once he was all inside you. His head fell on your shoulder and he breathed heavily. “You good, baby?“

You brushed through his hair. He was probably like this because you couldn’t stop gushing and clenching around him. “I‘m good just- give me a second please.“ you whined. “Of course. Take all the time you need.“

It took you a good while to adjust but Daichi waited patiently. To distract himself he started kissing you everywhere. On your lips, your ear, your forehead and then your neck where he even star to bite und suck, probably leaving marks you had to cover in the morning.

To distract you, his hand wandered south and circled your clit, trying to relax you. It worked. You whimpered and whined and quickly after you began to unclench and roll your hips against his hand, grinding on his dick and moaning. “You can move now.”

Daichi lifted his head and looked at you in awe. Your eyes were closed, but no squeezed shut, your mouth was just slightly opened and your nose scrunched, he doubted you even realized.

You were so breathtakingly beautiful and you were lying in his bed, naked and needy. And you were giving yourself to him, a complete stranger and he felt so lucky.

His train of thoughts were interrupted by an impatient groan and your hips rolling against him. He gasped. Today was not the day to keep such a beauty waiting for her pleasure, so he gently grabbed your hips and started to pull out and repeatedly thrust into your wet walls.

First really slow and gentle. Until your legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him closer. His Name left your lips like a chant, begging him to go faster. Harder.

“Daichi- please. Need it. Hngg- more more more.”

So he did. His hips started to rhythmically snap forward, trying to find that special spot and when he did, your loud moan was like music to his ears. He sped up his pace, keeping the hard force behind every thrust.

To keep you in place his hands started to grip you harder and he was sure there would be marks in the morning. But none of this seemed to bother you. Quite the opposite. You seemed to like it a little harder. Noted.

Your back arched from his bed and your hands gripped the mattress so hard, your knuckles lost color. All the while letting out the most desperate little moans.

They weren’t too loud or pornographic and he wanted to drown in you. You were so perfect and real. Not holding back but also not forcing anything to boost his ego. You were just enjoying yourself.

His head lowered again and he one of your sensitive nipple in his mouth again. This time a little harder. Harshly sucking and biting until you fisted his hair with your hands and tears rolled down your cheeks.

Only then did he remove himself and lick one last time so soothe the pain, just to switch sides and repeat his actions. You threw your head from one side to the other from time to time, tucking and pushing his. Your eyes screwed shut once again.

But he never faltered and when he could suddenly feel your legs start to shake and tighten around his hips, he knew you were about to finish. His lips removed themselves from your breast and instead he kissed you. Rough and harsh. Biting your lips and forcing his tongue down your throat.

His sudden aggressiveness startled but didn’t scare you. But you were also so overwhelmed with everything and when his hand wandered from your hip to your clit and rubbed it hard and fast with his fingers, you completely lost it.

Your mouth opened up, which left Daichi heavily breathing in your mouth, formed to a silent scream and all that came out of you were pathetic fast breaths.

Your glossy eyes were blown wide and looked at him with so much emotion, he almost came on the spot. But when they teared up even more and rolled back and you started to buck up into him because of the overstimulation, he bit on your lip and decided to hold back.

Instead he fucked you through it. His hips and fingers keeping a steady pace until you whimpered and tried to push him away.

“No more. No more.” You desperately pleaded.

So he pulled out, removed the condom and took matters into his own hand. Literally.

You curiously watched him jerk his hand and blushed. Was it weird that you wanted to do it for him? Touch him like he touched you and return the favor?

But instead of doin that you just opted with letting your hands wander on his back and to his biceps. Kissing his cheek and gathering your confidence to bite his ear and suck a mark below it. All the while pinching one of his nipples with shaky fingers.

Daichi moaned and went even faster. “Shit, baby. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

Then he kissed your cheek and spilled his seed all over your stomach. Which oddly enough turned you on even more and made you whine.

You stayed like this for a minute or two and just looked each other in the eyes, breathing heavily. Until Daichi rolled of you two the side and you were both left staring at the ceiling.

He was the first to turn on his side, staring at you worried. With his clean hand he brushed your hair out of your face and made you look at him as well. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You blinked a few times, furrowing your brows. “I don’t know. I enjoyed it really much. I just feel- weird? Is that offensive to you?”

“Not at all. Come here.” He pulled you in, kissing your temple and holding you tight to his chest. None of you cared about his sticky hand or your dirty stomach.

His clean hand comped through your hair and he whispered sweet nothings right into your ear. Praising and complimenting you.

Later the two of you got out of bed, or more Daichi dragged your complaining figure and threw it over his shoulder. “You need to pee, Y/N. I mean it. And then we’ll have to shower or take a bath.”

You just groaned. Luckily he couldn’t see the embarrassment on your face from having your ass almost entirely in his face. “I don’t even feel the need to pee!”

“Then you will drink water and force yourself to do it still. Don’t make me punish you, baby. You’re not ready for that.”

His continues hints on being rougher and more dominant with you, made you blush and even horny, so that you had to resist the need to kick your feet and giggle like a schoolgirl.

You didn’t even notice how you clenched your thighs together, which made only made Daichi smirk. He would definitely go harder on you next time. Besides, he promised you to make you cum as many times as your body could handle and he was not one to break a promise.

PLEASE this was so much fun to write!! I hope you had just as much fun reading it! Let me know what you think since this is my first time publishing anything I’ve written and if you would like me to turn this into a series, let me know please!! I am seriously considering doing it.

#hq smut #hq x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #sawamura daichi #sawamura daichi x reader #sawamura daichi smut #hq #haikyuu #fluff #smut #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq imagines #haikyuu imagines #daichi x reader #daichi smut #haikyuu x you

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sunny-ssunset · 4 months ago

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Honest south park dating headcanons🔥💯

dividers by pinterest

Masterlist!

♡Im writing so much bc i literally have nothing else to do so enjoy 🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯

♡Anyways honest headcanons about how i think the main 4 would act in a relationship with you (all aged up) mostly gender neutral but there is like mentions of boobies :)

TW Mentions of s*x, dr*gs and v*mit

Stan

•Honestly you wouldnt have to put much effort in to get with him

•Mother fuckers desprate for love

•Hes actually a bit of a wreck once you date him

•Crying because he is scared you'll leave him

•You are defo a rebound

•To be fair he'd start to fall for you though

•And because of that he'd throw up all over you

•He'd break up with you if wendy said she missed him

•In his eyes theres always someone better

•And im sorry but he moves on fast

•If wendy breaks up with him again though

•Expect a drunk call at 3 am saying how much he misses you and how he fucked up and if you can get back together

•Its your choice if you get back with him though lmao

Kyle

•He is extremely awkward

•Kyle has high ass standards so when he sees someone that meets those standards he'll fall hard

•This man cannot talk to people he likes

•If he doesnt like you he is the rizziest rizzler ever

•And 0 rizz if he does lmao

•He'd start SWEATING

•He would be stumpted for words

•Then when you leave he'd blame someone else for 'fucking up his chance'

•If however you did start dating him (god knows how)

•He'll probably dump you over the smallest thing

•If you vape or smoke though its a big no no

•And like you would argue over the smallest thing

•He'd rant and rant and rant and rant about something cartman did that day

•Probably would put work or school before you

•He forgets your his s/o sometimes

•He'll treat you like a therapist

•However he is really fucking good in bed 😩😏

Cartman

•This man would always be looking out for no. 1

•Genuinely would not give a fuck about you until you show any value to him

•Kyle has a s/o? DAMN GUESS WHO ALSO HAS ONE NOW

•Always trying to prove he is better than everyone else (especially kyle)

•He listens to alpha male podcasts

•Andrew tate supporter

•To be honest despite him also being plus sized

•He wont date someone who is also plus sized

•Its because andrew tate said he can do better

•He is delusional and doesnt believe you when you say he is fat

•Its apparently just baby fat

•He would let you in on his schemes and let you tag along but would also throw you under the bus and say it was all your idea if he gets caught

•Manipulative as fuck

•Would get pissy if you said no to anything he asks you

•He'd leave you because "He can do better"

Kenny

•He fucking stinks

•Its either he'll stink of zaza or just plain stinkyness

•He like never showers even when he had the opportunity to

•He'll have a huge crush on you because of your looks and you'll find out through other kids

•Cartman probably spread it around

•He'll always be staring at your boobs or ass

•Says word like "GYATT DAMN" "WHAT THE SIGMA"

•He doesnt have tiktok only instagram reels

•Has a shitty cracked iphone 6 in rose gold with no case

•He'll be very loyal like he would never get with someone else

•However always staring at someone elses boobs or ass if not yours

•Will compare you to 'attractive celebrities'

•Hes done many many dr*gs

•Him and his mates probably made a list of all the hottest people in the school (god knows where you are on it)

•He has no rizz at all because hes extremely shy

•Probably only got with you bc of how big your gyatt was

•Hes always really h*rny

dividers by @k1ssyoursister

#kenny mccormick fluff #kenny mccormick south park #south park kenny mccormick #south park kenny #south park x reader #kyle broflovski x y/n #kyle broflovski headcanons #kyle broflovski fluff #kyle broflovski smut #stan marsh fluff #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh x y/n #eric cartman #eric cartman x reader #eric cartman headcanons #south park headcanons

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endearing-dalliance · 28 days ago

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the way the Arcane team romanticize the undercity disgusts me

Especially in the new art book, they talk about how Zaun and Piltover really aren’t as different as they first seem, as they are both heavily invested in technology. Zaun is a bastion of flamboyant body modification and innovative technology. They describe it as a refuge for outcasts who are looking for a home, where people are free from Piltover’s rigid rules and politics. A communal place with a thrilling sense that anything is possible. The Firelights are described as a group uses the freedom granted by Piltover not caring about them to find beauty and innovation. People are particularly interested in recycling technology and resources because "nothing is precious and everything can always be made better". Bc obviously that's why poor people fix stuff. They are definitely able to easily replace stuff at any time, but they want to strive for perfection...

In the same breath, they describe Zaun as being oppressed, crushed by Piltover, addicted to Shimmer, having “some issues with the mob”, dangerous, volatile. They talk about how if it was better, people like Jinx and Ekko could use their skills for good. This is the same place that’s a refuge for innovative, flamboyantly augmented outcasts to be able to make wonderful technology?

Notable mention: "we had to design a prison, and that was tricky because Piltover is supposed to be a city of progress - do they really put people in prisons? Maybe only people from the Undercity, and maybe they put them really far away" like seriously does nobody realize how fucked up that is? Your issue with it is the difficulty in designing the prison?

Like have any of these people ever actually met someone who lives in an irl place like Zaun? Heard of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs? Opened any book or video on heavily polluted urban areas?

On top of that, the undercity is filled with negative stereotypes. Many of the characters are “bad” in some way, whether that be missing body parts, mentally damaged, filthy, an addict. Their food is tentacles, a drooling animal head, and a dish that looks very much like slugs in mud sauce (vs Piltover’s “normal” sandwich). Many of the people are all dressed punk/goth/sexy and look “dangerous”. This season, I expected them to address those stereotypes and show how Zaun has equal value to Piltover. That those differences don’t make people hateable or disgusting or deserving of their misery. Instead, we got “actions have consequences” theme and a dying man who suffered from chronic pain and mobility issues his entire life being told that his imperfections make him beautiful. (She-Ra did that line already and did it much better.) Because using tech/magic to fix his leg and spine strip him of his humanity.

The team have said they were specifically inspired by the current political climate in the US, specifically the two-party system within one nation divided and unable to reason with each other. But that is an entirely different and incompatible concept. Zaun literally doesn’t get a vote, and that kind of lack of political representation is literally why America rebelled against England. Its not as simple as them just talking it out or getting a single vote. And for me it explains why the conflict fizzled out in season 2 and felt so unresolved. I was expecting independence, which is the only solution to colonial oppression, but the creators gave us a fix for the political party problem they thought they were showing. We only got to see the Piltie’s viewpoint of Zaun, and it was unflattering specifically in the ways that are in real life associated classism, body shaming, and cultural shaming. They were never redeemed or validated, and almost everyone repeatedly proved the Pilties were right about them all along. In season 2, all the bad guys were Zaunites (Jinx, Viktor, Skye, Vanwick, Singed kind of) aided by a foreign power also trying to use them, and the solution was for them not to be part of their world anymore. They were too broken, too evil, too violent to remain. And for the rest, their only use was to die protecting the Pilties from one of their own people (whose autonomy wasn't even respected by his own partner and became his own worst nightmare). Instead of it being this glorious, Marvelesque fight where everyone bands together against one common enemy, it’s just another situation in which they are brutally exploited.

And I would genuinely be OK with all of this as some sort of tragic story that ended terribly for everyone and there was no real solution or progress, just more bloodshed. A tale of caution.

But the creators have been very clear that they feel that this is an appropriate ending to the story and the individual characters’ stories. Specifically, they are pushing this idea that the finale was to show the characters facing the consequences of their actions. But the characters themselves aren’t the problem, it’s the society that they are living in that basically corrupted everything it touched. Mel and the council manipulated and pressured Jayce and Viktor into making weapons instead of technology that was designed to help people, while also ignoring Viktor’s steadily worsening health problems that *they caused*. Vi and Jinx were repeatedly traumatized, orphaned, and weaponized. Cait literally got away with being a dictator, but even she was manipulated by someone who was only ever able to establish power by taking advantage of the situation. Singed (OG Piltie) literally committed war crimes and got everything he wanted. And according to the creators, everyone got what they deserved. Piltover received no punishment or retribution for their oppression. The undercity got no apology or redemption/validation. Piltover got no significant consequences. They’re still in power, still rich, still have Hextech, still oppressing the undercity. And I guess that's what they deserve.

What a load of absolute horseshit. I had a lot of expectations for season 2, but "the arcane team are actually Pilties in the worst way possible" was absolutely not one of them. I'm genuinely devastated.

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ginnsbaker · 10 months ago

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (2/?)

Part summary: Leigh goes on a double date with Jules. You reach a tipping point with Leigh's relentless hostility towards you.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5,072 | Warnings/Tags: None for now... smut eventually, enemies to lovers A/N: So... this turned into more than a two-shot. But it will still be a mini-series. It's also kinda slow burn for a mini series (lol). Also, this isn't canon compliant at all. Meaning, I took a lot of liberties and added stuff to Leigh and Matt's relationship, and it doesn't follow the timeline of the show. With that said, enjoy!

Masterlist | Part I | Next Part

The vet bills hit Leigh's bank account way harder than she’s willing to admit.

She knew taking care of pets could get pricey, but she thought that was just for those on their last leg, like Matt's dog, Rogue. Facing those steep costs made her think twice about turning down Drew's offer a while back to bring back her advice column. So, she calls him up as soon as she pays up a quarter of the charges on her credit card for Visitor's medical expenses.

Drew answers on the second ring. “Hey Leigh, what's up?”

Leigh doesn’t beat around the bush. She never has to with her best friend. “Can we meet at the cafe? I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sure. Be there in 20,” Drew replies right away.

The coffee shop they frequent is a small local business that specializes in cold brews. Leigh’s favorite thing about it is not the coffee though, but its interior: mismatched chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, and the temperature that’s always just right. Leigh arrives first, securing their favorite table near the window. Drew walks in a few minutes later, coffee already in hand, and greets her with a warm smile.

“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Drew asks as he takes a seat.

“I've been thinking... about the column. I was wrong to turn it down. I want back in.”

The look of utter surprise on his face tells Leigh this was the last thing he expected. She senses his response won't be a straightforward yes.

“I'd be thrilled to have you back, Leigh, I really would—”

“But?” Leigh cuts in. She doesn’t need to hear a bullshit ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. She wishes Drew would just be as direct with her as she is with him.

Drew lets out a sigh. Under different circumstances, saying no to Leigh would be as easy as declining an upsell from a McDonald's cashier. However, ever since Leigh became a widow, rejecting her feels significantly harder, even though he's well aware that Leigh values honesty over pity.

“But the thing is, the new writer’s really hitting it off with our audience. She's had a string of articles go viral lately.”

Leigh doesn’t look at all impressed by that. “Yeah, I heard.”

Personally, Drew’s not a fan of the new writer's style, and honestly, he still prefers Leigh. It would just be a hard sell if he brought this up to management. As the saying goes: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

“Look, I still think you have a unique voice. You know I’d still take advice from you over the new girl.”

Leigh scoffs a little at that, shaking her head. Drew rolls his eyes; it’s typical of Leigh to never know how to take a compliment. He continues, “How would you feel about guest writing? Maybe for the first couple of weeks, we could find a way to incorporate your insights into a series or a special feature.”

It’s not what she hoped for, but she recognizes the olive branch for what it is.

And she’ll take it.

“I... yeah, I think that could work, Drew. I've got a ton of new ideas, and this... this could be great,” Leigh says. “Uhm, thanks.”

Drew grins. “I thought you'd like that. Let's kick off with a couple of guest pieces, see how it goes.”

Leigh half-heartedly returns his enthusiasm just as her order of cheeseburger and affogato are served.

“Anything new with you?” Drew asks, his voice taking on that tone he reserves for the really good gossip. Knowing Drew's helping her out, Leigh figures a little life update wouldn't hurt as a form of thanks.

That update is about you. And the moment Leigh spills the beans, Drew's face lights up like a Christmas tree. But his excitement fizzles out just as fast when he figures out Leigh's got nothing scandalous to say. All she mentions is how you might've missed the mark by not doing your homework on the guy you were seeing.

“What’s your plan then?”

“Seems like everyone’s asking me that,” Leigh says flatly.

“You took your stray to her place, right? So, there must be some sort of plan. I mean, you could've gone to any other vet if you wanted to avoid her.”

“Yeah, but her clinic's location is so convenient, and I didn't want to shrink my world just for her.”

Drew hums in response. Leigh admits she’s been unusually passive with you. Normally, she'd confront issues head-on, but even almost half a year later, she still hasn’t fully processed Matt’s death, let alone his cheating. She's been trying a new tactic, almost as if by ignoring her problems, she hopes they'll fade away on their own. She seems to be betting on the idea that if she pretends long enough, maybe one day she'll wake up and find those issues have lost their grip on her.

“I don’t know Leigh, the whole thing’s weird,” Drew says, scrunching up his face a bit.

“It’s not like I’m trying to make a friend or enemy out of her,” Leigh replies with a shrug. “I’m just using her services as a doctor, and she’s getting paid for it. That’s all there is to it.”

“Oh, so that’s why you need your old job back. She’s draining your purse,” he says, smirking as he adds, “Bitch.”

“You don’t have to call her that,” Leigh chides, though the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. Deep down, she understands the twisted satisfaction in disliking someone without having to justify it.

“The funniest thing that can happen is if you two actually end up being friends,” Drew quips, picking up an accidental curly from Leigh’s plate.

Leigh finds that scenario hard to imagine, almost impossible. She doesn’t think she can be friends with someone Matt liked more than her.

Leigh is hunched over her laptop, with sheets of paper and colorful markers spread out on the table, meticulously designing missing dog posters for Visitor.

Jules, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand, watches Leigh for a moment before speaking up. “You know, you should've done that the second you decided to take Visitor in.”

Leigh doesn't look up from her screen. “His leg needed to be taken care of first,” she reasons.

Jules rolls her eyes, pushing off from the doorframe to come closer. “And? How did it go at the clinic?”

Leigh pauses, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you about the tests Visitor had to go through. They said he’ll be fine.”

“I mean with the doctor, not the patient,” Jules clarifies with a smirk.

There's a beat of silence before Leigh quips, “No cat fights happened, I promise,” her eyes going back to her laptop.

“Any chance she knocked off a bit of the bill?” Jules asks, moving to sit behind Leigh to take a peek of her work. It looks like an 8th grader’s art project, but she bites back any criticisms.

“Nope.”

“Told you she’s a bitch,” Jules murmurs under her breath.

“It's not like anyone's doing charity work these days, especially not in this economy,” Leigh argues weakly.

“Yeah, right. Like she needs your money, Leigh. Veterinarians are loaded, if you didn’t know.”

“If you say so.”

Jules decides to drop the subject, and Leigh can hear her shuffling and thinking behind her.

“Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Don't get mad, okay?”

“Prefacing like that? I'm bracing myself to be utterly scandalized,” Leigh says before smiling and sneaking a glance at Jules.

“Great, you’re cracking jokes again. That’s a good sign,” Jules deadpans but a second later, she’s smiling too.

“Ask away,” Leigh prods.

Jules takes a deep breath, and then:

“Do you think you’re ready to meet someone new?”

Leigh suddenly stops, her fingers just hanging there above the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. What’s the protocol here? If three months is usually the cooling period after a break-up before one can start dating other people, then what's the deal when it's about a husband who's not only passed away but was also cheating? How does that work?

Before Leigh can come up with an answer, she realizes she's already saying no.

Jules groans. “Come on, it's just a double date. It'll be fun. You and me and—”

“I’m really not in the mood to meet other people, Jules.”

Jules cuts in, laying it on thick. “Leigh, seriously, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? You're practically turning into a recluse. I won't stand by and watch my sister morph into the neighborhood's infamous dog lady.”

“Dog lady? Really?”

“I'm just saying, it's either try something new or start knitting dog sweaters for fun. Your choice.”

Jules can be a real pest sometimes; it’s an endearing quality except when they seem ready to go for each other's throats.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Leigh rests her chin on her hand, seriously considering the invitation for a second. “I don’t know how to meet people, Jules. I stopped meeting people when I met Matt. He was my entire world, you know?”

Jules softens, throwing her arms around Leigh’s shoulders. “I know. And I wouldn't push if I didn't think it could be good for you. Plus, I promise, if it's awful, I'll personally escort you out and we can ditch them for ice cream. How's that?”

Leigh senses that Jules won't give up until she gets a yes, so she decides to concede just this time and get it over with.

“Okay, okay, you win. I'll go on your stupid double date. But if this ends in disaster, you're buying me the biggest tub of ice cream you can find,” Leigh says, shrugging her sister off her.

Jules pumps her fist in victory. “Deal! You won't regret this, Leigh. And who knows? It might actually be fun.”

The double date goes surprisingly smoothly, except for the occasional touches coming from her date. To be fair, they are typical for a date and are executed with respect. However, for some reason, Leigh finds herself unusually conscious of every physical contact, making her anxious to move things along and call it a night.

As they step out of the restaurant, Leigh mentally scrambles to remember her date's name. She's bracing for the goodbyes, ready to retreat into the comfort of her room, when Tommy, Jules' girlfriend, suggests they cap the night off at a new bar. It turns out Leigh's date has an investment in the place. He jumps at the suggestion, clearly eager to flaunt this detail, perhaps hoping to impress her.

He does earn a sincere, “That’s cool,” from Leigh, just before she slides into the backseat of his car. Tommy quickly calls dibs on the front seat, leaving the siblings sitting next to each other in the back.

The new bar clearly wants to be the town’s next hotspot, but it seems to be trying too hard. It's got this odd vibe where you're not sure if you should be dancing or just looking around, wondering what it really wants you to do. But Leigh agreed to this, and she won’t embarrass Jules by ditching.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

She stiffens a bit as he draws near, the heat of Patrick's breath—Jules had reminded her of his name during the car ride—making her uncomfortably aware of how close he is. She shifts, trying to put a polite distance between them without seeming too obvious about it. “Um, just a gin and tonic, please,” she says.

She practically sighs in relief as Patrick heads off to order, her eyes darting around the bar. The 90s R&B background gets her head bopping, but all she’s thinking about is her couch and an episode of Parks and Recreation waiting for her at home. Jules and Tommy are in their own little world, giggling and looking all cozy. Leigh never thought she could feel like a third wheel on a double date.

Patrick is taking his time, and when Leigh cranes her neck to peer over the bar, she catches him striking up a conversation with a blonde. Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches, both of them obviously charmed by the other as Patrick laughs at something she said, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t all night.

Leigh feels a prick of irritation. Sure, she hasn’t been giving him the time of his life, but they’re still on a date. Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not flirting with other people when you're supposed to be with someone?

She waits a bit longer, hoping Patrick would remember he was supposed to be getting her a drink and come back. However, he hasn't moved an inch from his spot and is even passing Leigh's drink to the woman as they keep chatting. Leigh’s mind races. She knows she isn’t into Patrick, has been giving him nothing but the bare minimum, yet she can't shake off the feeling of being slighted. It's not like she wanted his undivided attention, but this... this just seems rude.

She catches Jules looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. Leigh just shrugs, not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings she's experiencing without sounding petty or jealous.

When Patrick finally comes back with her drink, the mood has already turned sour for Leigh. She musters a polite smile, accepts the gin and tonic with a thank you, but then heads to the bar on her own without saying anything more. At this point, she's indifferent to what Patrick, Tommy, or Jules might think or say of her; she's finished playing nice for the day.

Leigh slams her gin and tonic like it's water, the sting barely registering. She signals for another without missing a beat and strangers start sliding over drinks with cheeky grins. She toasts to nothing, to no one, letting the conversations slip away before they can get even one word out.

By drink number six—or was it seven?—everything's spinning, laughter too loud, lights too bright. Leigh’s clinging to the bar for dear life when she thinks she sees you. But as quickly as the figure appears, it's lost again, leaving her questioning her ability to handle her alcohol. Back in her college days, Leigh could hold her liquor like a champ, thanks to endless nights of partying. But now, staring down at her drink, she realizes she might've overestimated her current tolerance. The alcohol hits harder than she remembers, making her head swim more than she'd like to admit. It's been a while since she's gone this hard, and her body isn't shy about reminding her.

The worst part of it though is why, of all the faces her mind could conjure up, it's choosing yours.

Just as she tries to shake off the bizarre vision, your face appears again, this time on the dance floor, writhing in a sea of thick, sweating bodies. You're dancing closely with a man, and it’s—

It’s Matt.

Leigh blinks rapidly, attempting to dispel the hallucination because it's impossible; Matt is dead—this can't be real.

But the image of you and Matt refuses to go away. She continues to see the way your grind against him, the way you caress his face as you pull it further into your neck. Anger surges through her, hot and uncontrollable, and before she knows it, her last shot of tequila crashes to the floor. Before the bartender or anyone else can even figure out what's happening, Leigh storms through the crowd, pushing her way to what she believes is you and her husband, and shoves the couple hard. The moment she does it, the fog in her brain finally clears.

She saw wrong. They’re just a random couple, looking as shocked as she feels mortified.

Humiliated and more drunk than she's willing to admit, Leigh doesn't stick around to apologize. Tears start to well up as she pushes through the crowd, dodging empty faces while Jules' calls fade into the background. She shoves through the last of the mob, bursts through the doors into the night, and freedom feels just a breath away. But that breath catches, twists into a violent churn in her gut, and she can barely stagger a few desperate steps away from the entrance before her knees are on the cold pavement, and she’s spilling out onto the ground in front of her. A few groans of disgusts from the people around her doesn’t register as she succumbs to the consequences of her indulgence. Shortly after, she remembers why she’s cut back on alcohol, apart from the fact that Matt abhors it, turns him off more than anything.

“Leigh?”

The voice is familiar, even if she’s heard it only a few times. Her head's spinning as she looks up, the chilly air slapping her face after the stuffiness of the club. She blinks, trying to clear the blur of tears and the aftereffects of one too many drinks, squinting at the figure stepping out from under the streetlights.

Your face, more clearly now under the lamp post is kind of sobering her up a bit.

So, were you actually there in the club, or is Leigh so haunted by thoughts of you and Matt—thoughts she's tried so hard to ignore and bury—that she managed to conjure you as a way to finally confront her true feelings about the entire situation? It’s always the battles with herself she never wins.

“Hey, you alright?” you ask, lowering yourself to get a better look at her but keeping back a bit—just enough space for her to catch her breath or in case she needs to throw up again.

Leigh doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to see you're there. You rummage through your crossbody bag, pulling out some wet wipes and offering them to her. She still doesn't look up, but grabs what you’re offering with a little force.

She proceeds to wipe her mouth and then her entire face as you continue talking, words tumbling out in a nervous stream.

“I saw you back there, in the club. I wasn't sure if I should come up to you, you know, with everything that's happened... with me being... well, the person I am in all of this,” you explain softly. “And then I saw what happened, how upset you got. Sorry I followed you here, I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Leigh abruptly gets to her feet, and you instinctively step back, giving her more room than probably needed.

“Why?” Leigh fires at you, her tone so icy it almost makes you regret coming after her. You're taken aback, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.

Why what?

“Why do you even care?” she clarifies, eyeing you as if you're the densest person on the planet.

You grasp for something, anything that sounds like you're not just here out of guilt. “Anyone who knows you would be worried,” you say before you can think twice about what it could mean.

Leigh's laugh is sharp, cutting. “You don't know me,” she throws back.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble to yourself. You wish you did, so you could fix this.

Leigh’s anger doesn’t let up. “You know what I think? You're playing the good Samaritan to scrub off your guilt. But not knowing Matt was married? That's on you. I bet you never asked too many questions because you wanted him to be Mr. Perfect—single, ready to mingle, the dream guy.”

Opening your mouth to argue, you find yourself at a loss. Leigh’s not entirely wrong. With Matt, you were in a bubble, caught up in the thrill of meeting someone who seemed so right, so honest. You clung to his every word, wanting to believe in this image of him you'd built up.

The truth is, you never wanted to meet Leigh Shaw; you wanted to believe Matt's only fault was how he ended things with you, by disappearing.

But before you can admit to all of that, Leigh is already storming off. You think about chasing after her, but she spins around so fast at your footsteps, shooting you a threatening look and a low, “Stop following me,” that nails you to the ground.

You keep staring at the spot she disappeared from, long after she's gone, wondering why Matt felt the need to find love elsewhere.

Leigh goes home, but not to an empty house. The second she opens the door, Visitor bounds into her arms, full of wiggles and wet nose kisses. Her mom's off somewhere, doing who knows what—Leigh's stopped trying to figure out where or why. Meanwhile, her phone buzzes with a string of voicemails from Jules, but Leigh's not in the mood to dive into those just yet. She decides they can wait till morning, along with the other missed calls and unread messages from strangers, asking for more information on Visitor.

For now, she peels off her socks and pants, leaving them scattered carelessly up the stairs before passing out on her bed.

Visitor’s follow-up check-up rolls around way too quickly for comfort. The moment Leigh steps through the clinic door with the dog in tow, you can practically cut the tension with a knife. Leigh's trying to keep it together, but her attempts at civility are imbued with a coldness that can’t be ignored.

With only a small ‘good morning’ from you and a nod from Leigh, you start the consultation, knowing you’d be doing her a favor if you just get right to it.

“How's Visitor been eating?” you ask as you work your stethoscope.

“He eats fine,” Leigh drawls.

You nod, jotting down a note before moving on, “And his activity levels? Any changes there?”

Leigh’s response comes laced with sarcasm.

“Oh, he's just peachy. Running marathons every morning.”

You clear your throat, trying to rein in your mounting annoyance at her childish behavior. “I'm just trying to get a complete picture,” you say.

But Leigh's not having any of it. Her comments grow sharper, her patience thinning, and it's clear she's more interested in taking jabs at you than discussing her dog's health.

Her last sarcastic remark has you drawing the line. “Leigh, you can be upset with me all you want outside of this clinic, but I won't tolerate disrespect while I'm trying to do my job,” you say evenly. “You're welcome to find another vet if you can't keep this professional. I have every right to refuse service if this continues. It's not what I want, but I'm not about to let you treat me any less professionally.”

Leigh goes quiet, yet she keeps her eyes locked on yours, decidedly not backing down. Then, after a tense moment, she mutters a single word, “Sorry.” It's not much, but it's something, and you decide to take it and move on.

“You mentioned something about a blood sample?” Leigh says, steering the conversation back to the reason she came in, and you're all for following her lead on this.

“Yeah, we need to check if his platelets are up and his infections are down, see if the meds are doing their job,” you explain. Then, veering a bit from standard procedure, you add, “Since this is a follow-up visit, I'm going to cut the lab test price in half for you.”

The discount evidently lifts her mood. It's not a perfect truce, but it's enough to get through the examination without any more barbs.

A while later, you're back with Visitor's CBC results in hand. “The infection's gone down, but it's still borderline,” you report, showing her the numbers. “We'll need to keep him on the medication for another week. And I'm adding some multivitamins and a specific diet to his regimen.”

You scribble down the details, then note at the bottom of the pad about the discount—not just for the lab test, but for the prescriptions too.

Leigh takes the paper, scanning the details before her eyes finally meet yours. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softer than it's been.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a smile before going back to your notebook, looking deep in thought.

Leigh feels like you're back to your usual, friendly self. Yet she thinks she prefers the more raw, unfiltered version of you. The version that called her out earlier. These days, she's starving for that kind of honesty. Because having her as your client can’t be all that pleasurable. She's aware of how challenging she's been, and the straightforwardness somehow makes her feel more understood, more seen.

She wishes people would stop seeing her as Leigh: the one with the dead husband.

Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “When did you start working here?”

It's a seemingly insignificant question, yet coming from Leigh, it prompts you to close your notebook and focus entirely on her.

“I—”

“Because a year ago, I remember meeting a different doctor,” Leigh adds, absentmindedly running her fingers through Visitor’s coarse hair as he sleeps on her lap.

“You’ve been here before?”

It’s a painful memory—one that still sometimes brings tears to her eyes whenever it crosses her mind. Back then, the clinic bore a different name, and she and Matt had come together to say goodbye to Rogue.

“I have when it was still called Palm Coast,” she says.

You nod, understanding the context now. “Yeah, that was before my time. I bought this clinic on a whim after spending a few years practicing in Dubai.”

While most would latch onto the tidbit about your intriguing career history, Leigh zeros in on something else entirely, asking directly, “When did Matt start coming here?”

You shift uncomfortably at her question, and Leigh immediately regrets pushing too hard. She’s about to backtrack when you halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’m open to talking about it, just not here,” you suggest. “How about over coffee?”

Leigh hesitates, then says, “Okay, let me just text my boss that I won't be able to lead the yoga class this morning.”

“It doesn’t have to be now. Tomorrow works,” you say.

Realizing her assumption, Leigh’s cheeks color slightly. “What time?”

Now it's your turn to feel a bit awkward. “Would 7 work? It's the only time I have before the clinic opens.”

“In the morning?” Leigh says again, making sure she heard you right.

You nod sheepishly in reply.

“Or we could maybe—”

“No, it's okay,” Leigh interrupts quickly. She's usually up before sunrise anyway; the only change would be trimming her morning run a bit. And for a one-time chat to get the answers she's after, she figures she can make such a small sacrifice.

–

“Are you sure you want to return Visitor to his real family?”

True to form, it's Jules who breaks the two-day-long sibling spat. It's usually her who tries to smooth things over with an apology, even on days when Leigh isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with. Her therapist keeps telling her not to always be the one to buckle, especially when she's the one who's been hurt, that Leigh should be the one to step up and make things right for a change.

But here she is, reaching out first, just like always—because waiting for Leigh to make the first move feels like waiting for snow in July.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?” Leigh says as if she's gearing up for another round of conflict rather than welcoming peace.

Jules ignores her and continues, “Have you actually tried to find Visitor's owners, or have you just kinda... kept him because it feels good to have him around?”

“So what if it feels good to have a dog who loves you and is loyal to you?”

Jules shakes her head in a condescending manner, which only serves to irritate Leigh further. As soon as her popcorn is done, she heads out of the kitchen, flops onto the couch, flips on the TV, and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. Jules follows her, opting to stand next to the TV, poised to yank the plug out if necessary.

“Leigh, you do understand that taking care of a dog isn't something to take lightly, right?” Jules starts, but she breaks off when the dog in question trots over, tail wagging, trying to coax Jules into picking him up.

Leigh acts like she hasn't heard a word, her eyes glued to the TV screen.

“I thought you'd learned something from what happened with Rogue—”

That hits a nerve. Leigh's quick to fire back, “Oh, and jumping into a serious relationship is super responsible, right? Especially when staying sober is part of the deal.”

Right after the words leave her mouth, Leigh regrets them deeply. She's painfully aware of Jules' long battle with alcoholism, a struggle that began in college and required more than a couple of tries before Jules could claim any sort of victory over her addiction. Leigh knows it's still a sore subject for Jules, still fighting her demons, making her comment unfairly harsh.

Though the retaliation didn’t come out of nowhere. Leigh caught Jules at the club, discreetly sipping a drink she swore off, and chose to keep quiet then to avoid causing a scene in front of Tommy. She had plans to bring it up later, but then her own slip-up with drinking, bailing on her date, and the fallout with Jules spiraled into one of their nastiest rows in a long while.

“Jules, I’m sorr—”

“Just save it, Leigh.”

Jules heads for the door, her hand clenched tight, barely hanging onto her emotions. Leigh feels the situation slipping further downhill, and she can't just stand back and watch things crumble even more. She's about to chase after Jules when the doorbell rings, stopping both of them cold.

But Jules doesn’t even bother with the door; instead, she veers off, storming upstairs with that telltale slam of her bedroom door echoing down. Leigh sighs, stuck in the aftermath, while Visitor starts barking at the door. Dragging her feet, Leigh heads over to open it, half-expecting another problem but hoping for a distraction.

Leigh definitely wasn't expecting Danny, and seeing him there, she gets the sinking feeling that this storm swirling around her isn’t going to blow over just yet.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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usiel21 · 7 months ago

Text

The courting gift.

Thing: What about a diamond?

Wednesday: Don't be ridiculous Thing, Enid is worth more than any mere dia-

Thing: Oh no, i know that look.

Wednesday: Thing you are a genius.

Thing: ...This isn't going to end well.

1 Hour Later...

Wednesday: Enid, a family matter has arisen that i must attend to, I will be back by the end of the weekend.

Enid: Uh yeah sure, everything okay?

Wednesday: (Pause) Yes, it cannot wait. Don't wait up and if i shan't return, burn this school down and everyone inside.

Enid: Wow... you're such a psychopath! (Giggles)

Wednesday:

Wednesday: Flattery will... it won't... (Sigh) Los halagos no te llevarán a ninguna parte cuando ya me has capturado, en cuerpo, mente y alma.

Enid: (Smiling widely) I Love you too!

Wednesday: (Quietly) Do not jest with your words Mi loba.

Two Days Later...

Enid is stood in the common room of Ophelia Hall, watching the news with Yoko and Divinia.

News Presenter: ...We have some upsetting breaking news, The Tower of London was broken into last night where thieves took the Koh i noor, a diamond that was set in the crown of the Queen Mother. With an estimated value of Three Hundred Million Pounds, the jewel is said to be priceless. The Metropolitan Police in conjunction with Palace officials have confirmed that currently there are no suspects, this is without doubt one of the greatest heists in history, although authorities are baffled that only one item was taken.

Enid: Wow... what kind of person would steal from a dead woman's crown. (Shaking her head) Anyway laters, Wednesday is due back at any moment!

Yoko: (Grinning) Like a puppy eagerly awaiting their owners return at the door.

Enid: (Blushing) Shut up. Anyway i'll see you later!

Enid rushes up a flight of stairs, two steps at a time, a bounce in her step. She had missed Wednesday. She had missed her so much. She pushes open the door making Wednesday flinch.

Enid: Wends!

Wednesday: (Turning around sharply, hiding something behind her back) Mi loba.

Enid: (Narrowing her eyes.) What's behind your back?

Wednesday: ...Nothing.

Enid folds her arms with a pointed glare and tilt of her head.

Wednesday sighs, knowing she can't lie to Enid, not anymore, brings the item in front of her.

Enid: Wednesday... please tell me you have a really, really good reason for having the fucking Koh-i-noor in our dorm room???

Wednesday: (Weakly) I stole it for you. I planned to give it to you this coming full Moon. To court you.

Enid:

Enid: Wends... all you had to do was ask me out for a coffee or something, not commit the greatest heist in living history! (Tearily) But oh em gee, you did this? for me?

Wednesday: I would do anything for you, my fierce, fluorescent wolf.

Enid: (Preening and blushing) Oh my gosh... I'm going to have to get used to that huh?

Wednesday: (Striding forwards) As long as I breathe every breath will be spent making sure you never feel unloved ever again.

Enid: (Squeaking as Wednesday gets within several inches of Enid's face)

Enid: You...I...uh... you love me?

Thing:

Thing: Oh fer fuck sake, just propose already!

45 Mins later...

Thing: These lesbians, i can't anymore. They keep making googly eyes at each other from across the room and smiling, a hand can only stand to watch so much you know?

Weems: Wait... Wednesday AND Enid???

Thing: YES!

Weems: Wednesday smiling?

Thing: YES!

Weems: (Muttering) God help us all...

(The Koh-i-noor is never found)

#wenclair #this turned into quite the mini story #Wednesday would steal the greatest diamond in the world for Enid #prove me wrong #they're so gay

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castillon02 · 12 days ago

Text

“You ‘have amnesia,’” Dr. Sharma repeated, her eyebrows arched.

“Oh yes,” Q said. He cheerfully waved his hand at his bandaged head. “Mugged this morning. Terribly traumatic. Physically, not mentally, since I don’t remember any of it, of course.”

Dr. Sharma’s eye twitched. “I see.” Over the past year of therapy, she had grown inured to Q’s shite, but this was perhaps a new level of it for her. “Amnesia,” she repeated.

Q beamed. “Judging by the dark circles under my eyes, this seems like a bit of an opportunity for a fresh start anyway,” he said. “Past me looks overworked.”

Dr. Sharma had been trying to get him a holiday for the past four months. Her “I see,” every time M had denied his request for leave had become steadily sharper. Now her eyes gleamed. “Amnesia,” she said, smiling wider than Q had ever seen.

(Also on AO3)

—

“Amnesia,” M said, squinting at him from behind his desk. “Really, Q?”

“M,” Q replied, tasting the name as if he’d just learned it. “Seems a bit funny to work for a letter, but I suppose my past self had his reasons.” He leaned back in his chair and cast his eyes around the room as if those reasons might be visible if he looked for them.

M’s hand twitched toward the security button on his desk lamp. “You answer to the letter Q,” he pointed out. “You clearly remember some things.”

“The name Q has silent vowels,” Q said, straight-faced. “Q-U-E-U-E. A long line in A&E is the first thing I remember experiencing, so it seemed fitting. You know, waiting for something that never seems to come gives you a lot of time to think.”

M glared. “If this is about your leave—”

“I am leaving, yes,” Q interrupted. “I even have the paperwork filed for Queue Smith, since apparently you lot do that here.” He quirked his eyebrows. “You still haven’t told me what I do, exactly, but I assume it’s some form of tech support, not anything crucial. Something other people have been trained in.” Like Q had been training R and X for the past six months, for instance. Specifically to deal with M’s bizarre separation anxiety.

“You are actually one of our most valuable assets,” M gritted out, clearly aware that said valuable asset was a lying liar who was lying to him at that very moment.

Q smiled. “What a shame I can’t remember anything, then,” he said. “No value whatsoever now. In fact, Dr. Sharma distinctly said I was as useless as a pin-pricked prophylactic, and the rest of the medical department agreed with her.”

M’s eyes narrowed and he sat a little straighter. “Dr. Simmons would never go along with this.”

“Dr. Simmons thought the whole thing was very novel,” Q disagreed. “In fact, he said amnesia might be under-diagnosed, particularly in injured field agents being recalled for missions.”

M frowned. “How patient-centric of him.”

“Oh, terribly.” Straightlaced Simmons, head of Medical, didn’t always see eye to eye with Q, but they both prioritized the health of the people under their care. M wouldn’t find anyone in-house who would challenge Sharma’s diagnosis. Now for the killing blow: “Everyone says that if I’m lucky and have a nice long rest, then I might remember some things. But who knows? Amnesia is unpredictable. I could be out of the game for good.” Q gave an innocent shrug.

“It can be dangerous, walking around ignorant in the world,” M said.

“Maybe,” Q said. “But I got mugged while I was working here with all my memories intact, so really, nowhere is safe, is it? Might as well be unsafe in the Maldives.” Q gave M his most beatific expression. It was rather cute of M to threaten him with being killed, as though Q didn’t have a dead man’s switch for exactly that contingency.

M gave him a long look but eventually sighed. “I’ll put you on an indefinite medical leave. Don’t do something stupid with your free time.”

Q stood. “I’ll do whatever I please. Since that is, in fact, the point of the term ‘free time.’”

—

Q spent five days eating take-away and playing Elden Ring in his pajamas. On the sixth day, he had enough energy to move, so he took the train and then a bus to a little town in Andalusia, dreaming of egg-and-potato fry-ups and sunny olive tree-laden views.

Warmth. Sunshine. Red roofs and white stone buildings. An outdoor cafe where he could drink his tea and people watch.

Down the street, a wrinkled old woman stooped down to scratch a brindled dog whose whiptail flew back and forth at the attention. Q watched them until they rounded a corner out of sight. When he brought his gaze back to his own table, Bond was sitting across from him. Shite.

“Amnesia,” Bond said. His eyes crinkled at the corners.

Q stared him down. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” If Bond asked about a mission, Q was going to send him back to R and X for replacement corneas.

But Bond shook his head. “You can call me James. We don’t know each other outside of work,” he said. “I thought we could change that.” Bond gave him a half-smile, somehow sheepish—different from his Target Acquired smile. His bright yellow I Heart España t-shirt was more camouflage than Q had ever seen him in.

“Caminito del Rey has beautiful vistas,” Bond added, his blue eyes locked on Q’s. “Or I know a place with good tapas if you’d rather eat than hike.”

This might be a work-shaped trap. But there wasn’t any tech in the Gaitanes Ravine, and yellow wasn’t the color Bond wore when he went anglerfishing. Additionally, traversing a treacherous one-meter-wide walkway carved into a rock face a hundred meters above a river sounded like it was genuinely Bond’s idea of a good time. “If we went hiking,” Q said, “it wouldn’t be efficient. I take pictures of cool bugs. I lollygag to look at spiderwebs. I get distracted by rock formations.”

“If I wanted efficient,” Bond said, “I’d wait until you ‘got your memory back.’” He offered Q a wry tilt of his mouth. “I have it on good information that you’re currently useless, and I don’t expect we’ll need any of your skills from the office.”

Bless the medical staff’s ability to gossip. Q exhaled and slouched a little. “You’re really here just because?” he asked.

Bond shrugged. “We’re good at being useful together. I thought we might be good at being useless together too. If you like.” He tilted his head.

Q stood without answering.

Bond stood with him. His designer blue jeans stretched flatteringly around his thighs. No concealed carry. His watch wasn’t one of Q’s. He had a knife in his boot, but that was sensible enough. His t-shirt showed off tan arms criss-crossed with pale scars and a smattering of graying hair. He had a red España bucket hat tucked into his belt.

007 on holiday.

Q smiled. “Lead the way.” He extended his hand.

Bond took it. In the center of a rural village steeped in machismo culture, Bond held his hand. “I have a car,” he said, and they walked, still linked at the fingers, to where Bond had parked his entirely normal Mitsubishi Mirage rental. Good god; a hatchback. Not even four-wheel drive. Bond was really giving this ‘useless’ thing a genuine effort.

If this went well, Q would have to send 006 a basket of explosives. Rather than leaving his mugging-based amnesia up to fate, he’d rather desperately arranged for a surreptitious blow to the head from one of Six’s experts in cranial violence. He hadn’t expected that his memory loss would lead to something so lovely.

#00Q #mi6cafechallenge #festive fanwork fiesta #castillon writes

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empressdede · 4 days ago

Text

The Lyon’s family Christmas

Summary: You lie to your mom and tell her that you have a boyfriend to bring home and begs your best friend Jon to come with you to meet your family.

Word count: 2.7k

Pairing: Jimmy x Y/N

A/N: Happy New Year and Happy Holidays; I am so so so so sorry that this is so late but I literally worked the entire holidays so this was the best day for me to release. I hope you guys enjoy!

P.S. Guess who’s officially back? 🙂💙

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As often as this was a reoccurring issue, Y/N don’t know why she expected the conversation to take a different direction unlike the very worn out route her and her mother usually seemed to take.

“Do you remember Trent from church? I’ve heard the younger girls were saying he’s single now, and I was thinking about inviting him to our Christmas party. I think he makes for a nice boy, don’t you?" Her mom asked over the phone. And there it was, the same damn conversation causing Y/N to roll her eyes. Thank God her mother couldn’t see her.

Her mom never knew how to stay out of her business, always going out her way to try and set her up with damn near anybody because she thought it was the most terrifying fact that her daughter was single at 30 and have been for the last three years now.

But Y/N valued her peace more than anything, and all her past relationships have not always bought her peace, just heartache. So she wanted to be very cautious her next go round because she was being very serious when she told everyone she only had one more relationship in her. She just wished her mom understood that.

Y/N let out a sigh, "Mom, I haven’t seen Trent in forever. Do NOT invite that boy over for no foolishness. Plus, he’s really not my type." Y/N expressed which caused her mother her scoff.

"And since fuckin when was Trent not your type? I thought you were trying to get with a good man Y/N?" Her mother questioned.

Exactly.

Y/N let out a huff in annoyance, she knew way more than her mom and knew that Trent was definitely not the way go. But she didn’t know want her mom to think she was trying to push at the conversation so instead of being honest, Y/N does the first thing that comes to mind.

“I didn’t wanna tell you like this but Trent ain’t my type because I have a boyfriend now Ma.”

Y/N’s POV

The silence on the phone made me more nervous, why the fuck would I just say that?

“You got a boyfriend? Since when you found a boyfriend? And why haven’t you said anything about him?” The questions were leaving her mouth like quick fire, barely giving me anytime to answer her. But I did the best I could.

“I didn’t say anything because I wanted to make sure this was something worth bringing up.”

“Mmhmm, and how long you’ve been seeing this guy?” She asked

“Five months now, but we were friends before we started dating. I’ve been trying to take it slow.”

Another beat of silence took over the phone and for a second, I thought she knew I was spewing nothing but bullshit just to get her to shut up.

“Hmm, well baby you ain’t getting no younger. Tell this man I wanna meet him, invite him to the party and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She finally replied, but her response took me aback.

“Wait- mom..”

“Great! I’ll see you guys next weekend, Love you baby.” And with a quickness, she hung up in my face.

I was left amuck, staring at the phone in disbelief because what the fuck did I just do?

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In retrospect, you didn’t really have anyone to ask but him. You weren’t comfortable asking anyone else but your best friend - who has yet to meet anyone in your family, which was perfect.

Who else would’ve agreed to do this for you?

“You want me to what?” He asked, choking on the fried rice he was eating prior.

Okay, so maybe it’s going to take a little bit of convincing.

“Please Jon, you’re the only person I can ask and I feel like we’re close enough; we could definitely pull it off.” You exclaimed, a small smile on your face; trying to be as persuasive as possible.

Jon was not amused, for all he knew this was another one of your tired ass pranks that he refused to fall for.

“So you want me to lie to your mom for Christmas?” he questioned, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Why don’t you just tell her you’re single? I’m sure it won’t be the end of the world.”

You sigh, shoulders sinking in a bit. “She wants to set me up with some guy I haven’t seen in years. You know how I get with guys Jon and she won’t stop until she sees me with someone.”

You turn to fully face him with pleading eyes. “C’mon Jon, I already told them I have a boyfriend, who else am I supposed to ask?”

Jon watched you with careful eyes, silent as if he was thinking it over. You couldn’t help but keep your gaze hopeful as you guts sat in your living room waiting for him to respond.

You knew it was a big favor to ask but you would owe him the world if he could help you get your mom off your back.

The silence that filled the room made goosebumps litter all over your skin and the anxiety that bubbled in your stomach made you want to throw up. Just when you were going to tell him to forget it, Jon cut you off.

“Fine, I’ll go. But if we do this, we need to get our story straight.”

And just like that, the planning began, and for the rest of dinner, the two of you sat and theorized on how their fake love story came into existence:

Two friends who danced around the possibility of what could be till one night Jon stepped up and asked you to dinner and you agreed and you guys have been taking it slow from that night on.

____________________________________________

Two days after that, Jon surprised Y/N with matching pajamas for this impromptu trip.

“What kind of couple would we be without matching PJs?” Jon had asked when he dropped them off.

It made Y/N more appreciative of the effort he seemed to put into it. Of course Jon would play the perfect gentleman like boyfriend, who else would’ve did this for her?

The night before they had to drive six hours to your mother‘s house, you two agreed that Jon spend the night. This instance wasn’t anything new, Jon was your best friend and he slept over before, but something within your dynamic changed.

It was as if they were falling into the role of a loving couple for each other instead of Y/N’s family.

Jon sat on the bed watching Y/N finish applying her night cream, getting ready for bed.

“Is there anyone I should expect to give me a hard time?” Jon asked and you shook your head.

“Honestly, my mom is probably going to push you to marry me.” You joked causing Jon to chuckle.

“Well, if that’s the case, you ready to be stuck with me for life babe?”

The nickname caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

“Babe?” You questioned and Jon sends you a shy smile.

“You gotta start the habit now. I can’t call you that when I get over there, what if I just randomly call you princess and you get flustered?” He slightly teased, and there was those damn butterflies again.

He was right though, they needed to fall into the role of a devoted couple because how else were they going to make everyone believe they were in love?

You playfully rolled your eyes, and respond back, “what if I call you, baby boy and you get flustered?”

At that, Jonathan laughs and shakes his head at you. “I thought you said you wanted it to be believable?”

“How is that not believable?” You questioned as you walks out of the bathroom and towards him where he sat on the bed.

You cupped Jon’s cheek and talked in a baby tone, “Who wouldn’t think you’re my baby boy?” Cooing softly in a joking manner.

Jon decided he’s had enough of your antics and stood up to tower over you. Your hand falling back to your side as you stare up at him, a small smirk slowly formed on his lips as he stared down at you.

“C’mon now, you really think anyone is going to see us and think you call me anything but Daddy?” He had lowered his tone on purpose, and just like that the playfullness was sucked out of the room.

Your breath hitched at the sound of his voice, taking note of how close you guys actually were. Why did he have to do all that?

You felt your cheeks warm up and you couldn’t be more thankful than you are now that your skin had a darker hue to it - but Jon didn’t need to see it to know that you were flustered because your silence gave it away.

His smirk grows, almost tauntingly as he stared down at you. Maybe he knew what he was doing to you or maybe he didn’t and just got a kick out of this, but you did not appreciate his little game.

“Isn’t that right princess?” Even though you knew that Jon was teasing, you couldn’t help the shiver that ran up your spine.

You squinted your eyes to glare at him, “You’re not funny Jonathan.” You hissed out but he only chuckled at you and shrugged his shoulders.

It was all fun and games until it was his turn.

Just to put the icing on the cake: Jon’s hand lifted up to cup your cheeks, “Say you love being daddy’s baby.” He cooed back causing you to smack your lips and slap his hand away.

Your nerves were still a little rattled as Jon doubled over in laughter.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny; you ready for bed or what? We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow and you’re driving.” You stated, walking past him for bed.

This is going to be the longest four days weekend ever.

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The drive to your childhood home to Orlando FL, wasn’t so bad, three hours into it anyways.

When there was three more hours left to go, you became just a little restless, whining about how cramped your legs were starting to feel.

It went to show how much you really disliked long distant roadtrips.

“You don’t think you can wait another hour? We’re almost there.” Jon tried to negotiate but when he turned to face you and seen the pout on your lips, he let out a tired sigh and looked for the closest exit to stop at the nearest gas station.

You flashed him a cheeky smile, “Who knew you loved me so much?” You teased and he rolled his eyes letting you have this little moment because you guys had three more hours to kill and he’d rather you be in a good mood.

Another pro for stopping at the gas station is the opportunity to restock on snacks. After Jon filled up the tank, you both entered the gas station to look for whatever looked good enough to replenish you guys for the rest of the trip.

You both split ways to look for your favorite road trip snacks: Honey flavored chex mix, gummy worms and sunflower seeds since it was Jon’s preference.

Humming along to the Christmas song playing in the store, you went looking for Jon. Your eyes skimming through the isle looking for the tall idiot until your eyes fall on two figures: a girl laughing and holding herself up on Jon’s arm.

You raised an eyebrow at the scene, the feeling of annoyance swirled around in your stomach.

What the fuck was he doing?

You watched as the girl flash him another smile while fluttering her lashes in a flirting manner, and you couldn’t stop the scoff that left your lips. Your eyes squinted into a glare before an idea flashed in your mind.

It barely fully registered in your mind before you found yourself walking towards the two with the fakest smile on your face, “Babe did you find us some drinks?”

Jon turned to face you, a small smirk on his face cause he had watched you walk up to him.

The jealousy that burned in your eyes was very amusing and very apparent for him to see. If he didn’t know you well enough - he would’ve pushed his limit just a bit to see how far he could take it.

But knowing that they had three hours to kill before reaching Orlando, he’d rather not be in the car with an irritated Y/N, no matter how amusing it was to him.

Little did he know it was a little too late for that.

“Uh.. No, sorry babe. But we could go get it together.” He replied, and without bidding the girl goodbye, he locked arms with you to walk you towards the refrigerated section.

The girl watched with a frown on her face, as you guys walked away from her, and you couldn’t help but turn around to flash her a quick smile - almost taunting her before returning to face Jonathan, with the meanest glare, you could muster.

“I could’ve stayed in the car if you were going to be hot and fresh chasing hoes.” You gritted out once you were out of earshot.

Jon just chuckled softly, shaking his head at you while looking for your favorite drink. “She was just being nice.”

You roll your eyes again, “I’d rather you not insult my intelligence Jon.”

The frown was prominent on your face, and Jon couldn’t help the small smile that seemed almost glued to his face. You were cute he could definitely give you that.

A small chuckle emitted from him again as he walks closer to you to pull you into a hug. “You’re absolutely right princess, Daddy’s sorry.” He cooed, causing you to tense in his arms.

“Jon.” You grit out in a warning tone but he completely disregarded you. He lifted his left hand to tilt your head up to face him, and suddenly the air shifted between the two of you like it did back at your house.

“Jon.” You whispered out this time and he still chose to ignore you, his eyes flickering to your lips instead causing your breath to hitch.

“Jonathan.” You repeated, almost pleading with him and his eyes slowly traced up your face to lock eyes with you.

“You forgive me?” He rasps out; goosebumps littered all over your skin at the deepness of his voice.

“Y/N,” He muttered and you hummed to let him know you heard him. “Do. You. Forgive. Me?”

What in the world were you mad about again?

“Yeah.” You breathed out, hoping Jon with snap out of it, but he still didn’t let go of your chin.

“Good.” Was the only thing he stated before closing the gap between you guys. His lips pressed against yours and just for a second you both forget that this was supposed to be an act.

The butterflies that erupted in both of your stomach’s made the moment even more real for you guys. Your lips locked in a slow kiss, Jon’s hand slid down from your chin to grip behind your neck to keep you in place in deepen the kiss, just a little.

Your heartbeat filled your eardrums as blood rushed to your cheeks. When Jon finally pulled away, he seen how flushed you were, despite your darker skin tone.

He flashed you a small smile, “Was that okay?”

You nodded your head to assure him that it was more than okay. After the two of you finished up buying your snacks, you got in the car with childish grins and giggles slipping through your lips, both of you now in a way better mood than you were not less than 10 minutes ago.

You couldn’t help but secretly thank your mom for the invite to your family Christmas party because you don’t think you would’ve been here otherwise; and even though you’re pretty sure there is a conversation that needs to be had, maybe there was something to finally look forward to this holiday season.

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Lmao this was lowkey eh, but I did my bestest😭🫶🏾 Thank you to those who like and read it!

As always please, like, comment and reblog if you feel like and lemme know how you feel.

Tagging the lovelies: @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @blacst4r @paigereeder @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01 @mzv11 @trippinsorrows @partypoison00

(If you would like to be added to my official taglist please comment and I will add you, and if you want to be removed, please let me know🤍)

#empressdede #empresswriting #wwe #black reader #jimmy uso x black reader #jimmy uso imagine #jimmy uso x oc #jimmy uso x reader #jimmy uso fanfiction #jimmy uso #The Lyons Family Christmas

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