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#and then we find out that they just moved to a new account without telling anybody
luveline · 7 months
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hiii can you possibly write a poly!marauders x reader who is way too much like sirius 😭 i’m so so so similar to him it’s literally scary and we have the same birthday too??? same everything it’s crazy i think it would be so funny to watch them navigate through Two siriuses 😭
thank you for your request <3 fem!reader
Remus has been in love with Sirius since they were fourteen years old, so falling for you was easy. It was practically already done. 
You’re sitting by the window with a tape player in your lap and headphones over your ears. Pretty mouth turned down, eyes lined with a smudged kohl, you look lovely when you sulk. Remus can’t stand to leave you alone. 
He gives you a moment's peace, of course, but with James and Sirius entangled in a dinner-making argument and nothing left to do, he’s almost forced to sit beside you in the window seat. There isn’t much room, bless, but you don’t argue, leaning back into his arm and continuing your staring out the window. 
“You okay?” he asks. He knows the music isn’t too loud. You loathe being snuck up on. 
“Am I okay?” you ask, turning your head gently to the side, meeting his eyes through the fence of your lashes. Mascara lengthens them, has their ends kissing your brow as you widen your eyes slowly, playfully. 
“Sitting all by yourself.” 
“I’m not,” you say, the corners of your lips curling into a pleased half-smirk. You’ve too much affection about you to be truly smug. 
“But you were.” He moves the headphones off of your ears slowly. 
It’s a good thing Remus is such a flirt. You’d be hard to keep up with otherwise. He does wonder how James survives it; you and Sirius will flirt brazenly, almost darkly, a seduction in the smallest of things. Picking lint off of his shirt, wiping coffee foam from his lip. And Remus is quieter, not as shy as some might think him but without the darling charm (well, unless he wants it). 
You hold his gaze. “I knew you’d come and keep me company, Remus… that’s what you’re doing, right?” 
He laughs in your face, which isn’t to stay he’s laughing at you. He just can’t not laugh. You’re nerve wracking and sweet and his to flirt with. Plus, you hear him laughing and the majority of your facade melts away as you laugh yourself, the tip of your nose bumping against his sleeve. “Jerk,” you say. 
You and Sirius are different in some ways, of course. Sirius can’t stand having air blown in his ear and you love it, shivering with delight as you curl into his arm. 
“Hello. What’s going on here?” 
James is climbing onto the window seat before either of you can tell him not to. There’s absolutely no room for him nor his muscly arms, his shirt getting caught on your knee and rising, an unreadable mess of limbs and fabric. A tan hand uses Remus as a lift. James straddles your lap, bringing his face up to smile at you lovingly. “Hello, lovely.” 
“James, this is rather selfish of you,” you say. “Me and Remus were having a cuddle.” 
“He had you all last night.” 
“That’s not true. Sirius shared me with him. I was like a cherry pit.” 
James makes a horrified, undignified shriek like you’ve jabbed him in the gut. “What the fuck.” 
“You know full well I didn’t, Jamie, on account of my being the big spoon to your little one.” Sirius arrives, and announces his disgust with a wrinkle of the nose. “I can’t believe I’ve just said that out loud. Domesticity is becoming too much.” 
James is a tall, tall guy, and he’s not skinny either. Remus gives up his seat before he’s pushed from it, and at least finds a new embrace in Sirius’ space, a hand behind his back, ringed fingers ghosting against his spine. 
“Aw, Remus, what are you doing? …Come back,” James whines. 
You laugh again. “You’ve stolen all the room.” 
“Can I be blamed?” 
Sirius wraps his arm around Remus' waist. One moment he’s being hugged, the next kissed, silky soft kisses pressed to his jaw as Sirius murmurs, “You could’ve stood your ground.” 
But then Sirius wouldn’t be kissing him.
“Forget him,” Sirius advises, his lips parting over a soft spot near threateningly. “Who needs him? You have me.” 
“It wasn’t like that!” James insists. “I just missed her when I was in the kitchen.” 
“And I missed you, Jamie,” you murmur. 
Sirius scoffs, to Remus’ delight. “What’s funny?” Sirius asks, pulling Remus’ head back by the hair, not rough or anything but intimate enough of a move that Remus probably has hearts for eyes as he answers. 
“She sounds exactly like you, you realise?” 
Sirius narrows his grey eyes. “Well, it’s not a bad way to sound.” 
Remus has had enough of him, really, the flirting is fun but he misses his boyfriend, especially if James is going to steal the cuddle with you Remus had been aiming for. “I want some herbal tea,” he says, sewing his arms over Sirius’ shoulders, as much love in his touch and gaze as he can possibly fit. “Do you want some? I’ll make it for us.” 
In the same moment, James is holding your cheek and asking what you’d like for dinner, whatever you want, honey, so close you can smell his aftershave lingering from the morning and the minty cherry hybrid smell of his favourite chewing gum. His weight rests on your hip. Remus can see you heating up from over Sirius’ sharp shoulder.
You and Sirius are also very alike in that you both fluster at being treated with care. Immediate melting. Cheeks hot to the touch. 
“I don’t mind, Jamie,” you mumble. 
“I’d love some,” Sirius says, ever so slightly hoarse. 
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heich0e · 1 year
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Touya's not usually one to check his text messages.
Never has been, ever since he got his first cellphone when he was 13. He finds it more of a nuisance than anything, the way people always want to get ahold of him. Always expect a response from him over the most mundane shit. He barely likes talking to anyone as is, let alone during his private time—therefore, as a general rule, he doesn't respond to texts.
Especially not ones that pop up on his phone on a lazy Saturday afternoon with the contact name 'Bird Brain' listed as the sender.
But when these particular message previews appear, rudely interrupting him in the middle of watching a cake decorating video while he lays sprawled across the couch, Touya can't help but click through to the conversation to give them the response that they deserve.
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His response is about as succinct and unamused as he is.
Three telltale dots appear at the bottom of the conversation before Touya can click away, and he finds himself waiting to see what Keigo comes back with—for reasons not even he quite understands.
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Touya pushes himself up off the couch in an instant, stomping into your bedroom.
He finds himself hesitating once he makes it to the doorway, his body having moved relatively of its own accord, realizing only once he's standing at the threshold that he's not even really sure what he's going to say.
You're laying across the bottom of your bed on your tummy with your sock-clad feet lifted in the air behind you. You have one headphone in your ear and your laptop propped in front of you with that stupid romantic drama you like so much playing—the one Touya pretends he hates but always gets a little pouty when you watch an episode without him. You turn when you spot him in your peripheral vision, popping your headphone out of your ear and hitting the spacebar to pause your show.
"I'm almost done," you tell him, glancing back to your screen where the male lead is paused mid-confession—his mouth still open in the middle of his ardent monologue. You peer back at him again over your shoulder with a slightly smug look. "If you hadn't watched ahead without me we could be watching it together, y'know."
"That was an accident," Touya grumbles, sniffing a little indignantly. "It started playin' automatically when I turned the TV on."
"Sure, sure," you chirp, turning back to your laptop. When you realize Touya's still lingering there, you face him again, this time pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can twist around to look at him more fully. Your brow furrows. "What's wrong?"
Touya sucks in a breath of air and holds it in his cheeks, narrowing his eyes slightly.
"Can I see your phone for a sec?" he asks.
The pinch of your brow slackens as one of them lifts in surprise.
"Yeah," you say, though your tone is still a little wary. You nod towards your bedside table at the head of the bed. "It's plugged in."
Touya shuffles towards you, rounding the end of your bed frame and approaching the device in question. He sit down at the edge of the mattress, and it dips under his weight. Beside him, you shuffle a bit closer to him as you resume watching your show, one of your feet brushing gently against his back as you kick them idly back and forth.
Touya knows your passcode, just like you know his, so it's no effort to unlock the device once he has it in hand. Finding the app in question is another story entirely.
He turns to you.
"Which one of these is Instagram?" he asks, holding the device in front of your face with the home screen open.
You pause your show again.
"This one," you say, pointing to one particular app icon, but your voice is notably perplexed.
Touya's never had any interest in social media. He had a couple of accounts when he was a teenager but hasn't properly logged in for years. As new social networking sites have risen and fallen, he's never bothered to even sign up, seeing no need in signing away his personal data to a platform he'll never use anyway.
Touya taps his thumb against the icon that you pointed out, waiting for the application to launch. His leg jiggles impatiently while he waits for it to load.
Beside him, you don't unpause your show.
When the screen finally loads, Touya is immediately accosted by an unfamiliar interface. There's some photo of a girl he doesn't know taking up most of the screen, and a few bubbles in the upper right hand corner that he can only assume are notifications you haven't checked. Touya may not use social media, but he's not an idiot either, so after clicking around the screen for long enough he finally manages to pull up what he recognizes as your personal profile.
"Touya, what are you doing?" you ask, thoroughly bewildered now, having just watched your boyfriend visit just about every corner of the Instagram app.
He sucks in a sharp breath.
Slowly, he turns to look at you.
"Did you just post this?"
He doesn't really need to ask, considering the baggy t-shirt you're wearing in the photo—his t-shirt, he recognizes immediately—is the same one you currently have on as you lie stretched across your bed. It's all you have on, save for the frilly little socks on your feet and the edge of the panties he can see peeking out where your shirt's hem has ridden up.
The photo blessedly has left those out.
You clear your throat, almost like you're embarrassed, reaching out for your cellphone. "Yeah, a little while ago."
Touya holds the device out of your reach, and a little sound of indignation slips from your lips. He keeps scrolling.
Your profile is full of photos of you that are just as charming as the first one he'd seen. Some are of friends, or food, or places you've visited. Many are even of him, or the two of you together. The collection is like a series of little snapshots into your life—of all the moments you wanted to save or share. But every so often there will be a photo just of you.
You with your lips pursed coyly, or maybe quirked with the ghost of a smile. You wrapped in a skimpy little dress you bought for a special occasion that Touya is all too familiar with. You with your eyes bright, or maybe one where they're heavy lidded in a sultry expression that makes something possessive and primal scrape against Touya's ribs.
His face feels hot when he looks at those ones. Hotter still when he realizes other people have seen them too.
"I think you should delete your account," he says suddenly, turning to face you with a completely serious—and markedly insistent—expression.
"W-what? Touya!" You exclaim plaintively. You push yourself up onto your knees and scrabble for your phone. Touya doesn't fight back to any real degree. He lets you crawl into his lap and wrestle it out of his hands, though the two of you do go tumbling back across the bed in the process. Once you've safely tossed the phone down to the other end of the bed out of his reach, you turn back to him with an irritated pinch to your features.
Touya meets your gaze easily, like a man without guilt.
"What's gotten into you?" you ask him softly, still straddling his lap. Your hands rest over his sternum, fiddling idly with the strings of his hoodie.
Touya sighs, reaching up and tugging you down to his chest before snaking his arms around your waist to keep you pressed against him. You don't try and wiggle out of his grip like he thinks that you might, instead you let him hold you, nuzzling your face into the collar of his sweatshirt.
"You're being weird," you mumble.
"No, weird would be me asking you to throw your phone away and never leave the house again so I'm the only one who gets to look at you," Touya replies, his fingers dipping under the hem of your—his—shirt and creeping up along your spine. "I'm actually being pretty normal, all things considered."
You huff out a little laugh and Touya feels the warmth of it break against the skin of his throat. You lift your face so you can look at him, and Touya admires the view of you from so close up. The curve of your lips, the colour of your eyes, the tip of your nose. He could look at you all day, he realizes then. Every part of you. Every inch and dip and curve that makes you up. He could study them. Map them out with his eyes closed, long committed to memory.
You make him feel kind of insane, sometimes. More insane than usual, anyway. He worries that he likes you too much.
"What are you thinking about?" you ask him quietly.
You.
Touya purses his lips.
It wasn't his intended goal, but he's happy to accept the little kiss you press against them anyway, a laugh slipping out of his mouth and into yours before you pull away. He shuts his eyes, letting his head tip back against the bed again, letting out a long, exhausted breath.
"Wanna help me set up an instagram account?" he finally mutters after a long stretch of silence.
You push yourself up overtop of him, and when he cracks one eye open he finds you looking down at him excitedly.
"Really?" you ask him incredulously, but undeniably pleased by the prospect.
He nods a bit, pulling you back down against his chest. He lets his eyes shut once more.
If deleting your account is out of the question, he might as well have his own so at least he gets to admire it.
You wiggle comfortably in Touya's hold, your TV show long forgotten at the other end of the bed, content to just let your boyfriend trace lazy circles into your thigh as your legs tangle together with his.
Touya's eyes pop open again suddenly, an unpleasant and not-so distant memory rushing back to him.
Your gaze meets his own, a quiet concern swimming behind it.
He takes your face in his hand.
"How do you block someone on Instagram?"
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ayyy-pee · 1 year
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Discord 18+ - Twitter
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader
Summary: You can run all you want, but Toji will always find you.
Story Warning: Stalker Ex-boyfriend Toji!!!, Threats of Violence, Shitty Date (literally), Smut, Voyeurism, Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Toxic Behavior, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Possessive Sex, Threats of Pregnancy omg, Possessive Behavior, No condoms we get plan b 'round here
Artist: Idk! But if you find out, let me know and I'll update my post
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Your lips turn down in a frown, eyes widening as you swipe your mascara over your lashes one last time. You blink as you take in your appearance in your bathroom mirror for the last time, slipping your mascara wand back into the tube and twisting it tightly shut.
You have a date tonight.
The first one you’ve had since moving to Sendai from Tokyo. You met him at your new accounting job. He’s nice, a little boring for your usual taste, but he’s exactly what you needed to date. Someone your age. Someone with their life together, and someone who isn’t fucking crazy. And god did you need the not crazy part.
Your ex was an older man who seemed to have it all together when you first met. Things were easy with you two. He worked a job that required a lot of travel. He supposedly worked for the government, never asking questions because every answer was a stern “It’s confidential”. And that was fine. You didn’t need to know what he did for a living as long as he was good to you, and he was at first.
Two years of dating and everything was going well…save the bouts of jealousy and possessiveness your ex sometimes let slip. When he wasn’t making sure to watch your every move, monitor any man who spoke to you, he was fantastic. Loving. Doting. Funny…All of the things you wanted in a partner. It was just when his jealousy reared its ugly head, it became everyone’s problem.
He never hurt you physically, no. He would never. But that didn’t apply to anyone else within your vicinity.
It was flattering at first, how he’d lose his shit just at the sight of you with another man. But then it became too much. Breaking up with him didn’t work. He’d just show up wherever you were, telling you he loved you, that he can’t do this life without you, to give him another chance and he’d be better. And every new chance always ended the same. With some random man on the floor with a bloody nose after talking to you at the bar, your ex looming over him, jaw tight, nostrils flared with anger and you storming away.
You thought dating an older man was going to be different, that you wouldn’t be dealing with the same childish shit men your age would put you through. But apparently, age didn’t make a difference. At his prehistoric age, your ex proved that wasn’t the case.
He was never going to change.
No matter what you did, he was never going to leave you alone.
You soon realized your ex was more than jealous and possessive. He was downright insane. You remember what it was like every time you broke up, the vicious grin he would wear after ruining one of your nights out, chasing you down until you gave in to him…and then he was ruining you back at your apartment.
And you hated yourself for that. How easy it was for him to break down your walls with little effort. How easy it was for him to get you to forgive him. He didn’t have to do much. He just needed to show up, tell you sweet nothings and you were putty in his hands, opening the door to your life for him…And your legs.
It’s why you moved so far across the country. The further, the better. You’d blocked his number, packed up and didn’t even tell your closest friends where you were going. You needed a complete revamping of your life. Because you loved him too much to resist him if he ever showed up again.
With a sigh, you check your makeup and dress one last time before you head out. You’re going to the movies. It’s a simple date. Doesn’t require you to do too much, but you want to make a good impression. It’s your first date since moving to Sendai and you deserve to have a normal date for once. 
When you arrive at the theater, you’re immediately hit by the smell of butter and the sounds of kernels popping in the machines behind the concession stand. Your date is already waiting inside with popcorn and your tickets. He flashes you a bright smile, tells you you look beautiful tonight and you feel your cheeks warm beneath his gaze. It’s a little weird to be out with someone new, but isn’t that what you wanted?
He’s nice. Give him a chance.
The attendant checks your tickets and points you to your theater. You climb the stairs, glancing down at your ticket to ensure you’re on the correct row, right in the middle of the theater. The perfect view.
Your date sets the popcorn down between the two of you. “I heard this movie is really good.”
“Me too,” you nod, reaching into the tub of popcorn at the same time as your date. You both smile shyly at each other when your fingers touch, grabbing a handful of popcorn just as the theater lights dim and the movie begins.
- - - - - -
The movie blares in the back of the theater, the music building to a crescendo as some action scene reaches its climax. But that’s not what the man at the top of the theater is watching as he shoves another handful of popcorn into his mouth. No, there’s a much more interesting sight in front of him, right in the center of the theater.
You.
Who gives a fuck about the movie when he has a perfect view of you?
Well, of you and the fucker sitting a little too close, whispering in your ear any chance his gets and slipping his arm around your shoulder.
He wants to march down and kick your little friend in the head, splatter his brain across the floor. But he’s off the clock. A random body to clean up wouldn’t look good for him and it definitely wouldn’t increase his chances of getting back to you. And that’s the goal here. To get to you. So he has to be patient, like he has been all this time.
He could always barge into your new place and make you talk to him. He could always call your phone even though you blocked his number and changed phone providers. That’s lightwork for him, child’s play. And he wants to have some fun before he makes a move.
Emerald eyes watch in the darkness as your date leans into your ear to whisper something, your shoulders shaking slightly as you laugh. It almost makes him break his promise to bide his time, watching that man put his lips so close to your soft skin.
The skin he misses running his large hands over. The skin he misses kissing, running his tongue over. The skin he misses admiring after coating it with his own release. Fuck, he misses you more than anything. He’d damn near lost his mind after realizing you left Tokyo, up and gone in the middle of the night without so much as a word. Not even your friends knew where you’d gone. And he would know if they were lying. 
But now that he has you in front of him, he’s determined to never let you go.
Your date leans over to whisper once a-fucking-gain in your ear and his jaw tightens, teeth clenching so hard it makes his head throb. Your date stands, heading for the stairs, leaving you alone in the theater to watch the movie. There’s too many people around for him to approach you so soon. It’s not the right time, but he has an idea of what he could do until then.
The man in the back stands, casually following your date down the steps and out the theater door. Your date is an idiot, not even aware for a second that someone is behind him and closing in on him quickly. The easiest prey he’s had in awhile. Green eyes watch as he turns into the bathroom and he follows after silently.
Your date closes himself into the further stall, the largest and takes a seat on the toilet.
Even better. Out of sight.
The man doesn’t sense any other presence in the bathroom as he enters the stall next to your dates and stands atop the commode. He peers down boredly as your date sits, toying with his phone. Clearly he was going to be in here for awhile anyway, but now it may seem he won’t be returning.
“Got any good games on there?” The green eyed man asks, smirking when your date practically jumps out of his skin, dropping his phone with a loud crack.
“What the fuck, man?!” He shouts, face red with anger. “Get the fuck outta here, fucking freak!”
“I’ll cut to the chase.”
Your date fixes him with a look of confusion.
“Leave your date.”
Your date looks even more confused. The green eyed man rolls his eyes, sighing with annoyance. He grits his teeth. “Leave. Your. Date. Go home, forget you met her.”
Now your date’s red face has returned, his anger rolling off of his skin. “Fuck off! Get out of here or I’ll call security, you fucking weirdo!”
The man sighs again, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He tried to be nice. He really did. With ease, he hops over the wall of the bathroom stall, landing before your date, one foot smashing his phone into pieces. He digs the heel of his foot into the device for good measure, the sound of glass scratching the floor filling the space between them.
And then he’s leaning over, meeting your date at eye level, green eyes glaring into his wide and terrified ones. “Leave. Your. Date. Or you’ll be lucky to leave this bathroom with only your phone crushed in.”
He can see the way your date trembles, the sweat beginning to bead along his forehead and above his lip, the way his Adam’s apple bobs with a loud gulp before he nods silently.
A large hand comes up to pat his cheek, tapping it lightly a few times. “Smart kid,” the man says before standing straight. “Don’t even think about calling security either or you won’t make it out of the theater in one piece.”
He turns, kicking the door to your date’s stall open before waltzing out and heading back toward the theater. He ascends the steps, bright eyes locked on your form as he squeezes past the other moviegoers on your row to get to you.
He takes the seat next to you, slipping an arm around your shoulder and loving the feeling of you snuggling in closer. He leans over, lips pressed to your ear as he asks, “What’d I miss, sweetheart?” And he revels in the way your body tenses in his embrace, trying to pull back but he holds you to him.
“Toji –”
“Shhh, it’s rude to talk during the movie.” Toji reaches into the tub of popcorn you and your date were sharing, offering you some. You shake your head in refusal and Toji shrugs, shoving the handful into his mouth.
- - - - - -
The movie flies by, your stiff body held by Toji the remainder of the film. When the lights turn back on, he holds you there until all the other guests have dispersed. When the last guest is gone, he looks at you, a wide grin stretched along his face.
“Missed y–”
You shove his arm off of you, brushing past him and hurrying down the stairs. Angry would not be a strong enough word to describe what you’re feeling right now. Maybe irate. Enraged. Incensed. No, still not enough.
You push out of the theater doors, Toji hot on your trail. Your eyes scan the empty halls, seeing no signs of your date who you noticed after Toji’s arrival just happened to never come back from going to the bathroom and grabbing a quick drink. It’s like he vanished into thin fucking air.
“Sweetheart, talk to me.” Toji pleads, grabbing hold of your arm and you snatch yourself out of his hold.
“Don’t sweetheart me, Toji. What are you doing here?” You hiss and you hate the way his stupid pretty green eyes hold mirth in them. Like he’s enjoying that he’s made you mad. “What did you do?”
Toji’s smile widens more if that’s possible, the crescent scar on his lips only becoming more prominent. “What do you mean?” He asks innocently.
You shoot him a glare. “You know what I mean. What did you do to my date this time? Knock him out in the bathroom? Drown him in Dr. Pepper? Hang him upside down from the roof until all the blood rushed to his head and he died?”
Toji hadn’t even thought about the last two, but he takes mental notes…for research.
He shrugs, though. Because he didn’t do any of those things. “I didn’t touch him.”
You stare into his eyes, getting even more pissed because you know he’s being honest. “Then what did you do?”
He steps towards you, holding his hand out. “Nothing bad at all. Can you really blame me if your date’s a flake? Maybe he just doesn’t appreciate you the way I do.”
You peer down at his hand, rolling your eyes as you turn on your heel and storm down the hall. You leave the building making a sharp turn around the corner towards your car. This dumb ass theater only has one entrance and exit which has to be a fire hazard, you think. To get to it, you have to go down one of the alleys down either side of the building.
Your feet carry you down the alley, Toji’s hurried steps rapidly catching up to you. His hand catches your wrist, turning you to look at him. You don’t pull away this time, knowing the more you push him away, the harder he’ll try to get closer.
“Hey. Hey, stop. Please,” he pleads and in the darkness of the alley, beneath the soft glow of the moon, his green eyes shine brightly. You have to close your eyes so you don’t immediately fall back into his hold. The second you look into his gaze, you know you’ll be his again. You shake your head.
“Toji, please. I left to get away from you. You can’t keep doing this.”
“I’m not doing anything, baby,” he says softly. “I just don’t understand why you’d leave without even saying anything.”
He genuinely sounds hurt. You do feel guilty, but you needed to do what was best for you and your life. Toji would ruin any chance you had at happiness with anyone else if given the chance. He would have never let you have a life in Tokyo, but here you were hundreds of miles away from the city…and he still won’t let you be happy if it’s not with him.
“You know why, Toji,” you breathe softly. “I can’t keep doing this jealousy thing with you. You just…get too crazy. Look at tonight.”
“Okay. That’s fair, but tonight, I really didn’t do anything. Your date broke his phone and I just…suggested he go hurry and get that fixed.”
Behind your closed eyelids, you roll your eyes because while that may be somewhat true, it’s not the whole truth and you know it.
“Still, Toji–”
He cuts you off, his other hand coming up to hold your cheek and you melt into his touch just like you knew you would. It’s annoying that literally closing yourself off to him does nothing because every part of Toji is your weak spot, crazy as he is.
You open your eyes to gaze up at him, those beautiful eyes of his peering into yours and you know you’re done for.
“I came all this way to see you, baby,” he rasped. “I missed you. Didn’t you miss me?”
You did. Fuck, you did miss him. You know that makes you an idiot to miss his crazy ass. You ran away from your entire life, from everything you’d known to get away from him and now that he’s standing right in front of you, your body is reacting in a way you couldn’t resist even if you tried. You know you should move, step away from his hold, but you don’t. You can’t.
Weak. Don’t do it!
It feels like you have an angel on one shoulder, a devil on the other. Your brain is screaming at you to not give in to Toji, to turn around and leave him standing alone in this alley. But your heart is screaming for your brain to shut the fuck up.
You nod, inhaling deeply before sighing, giving in because you always knew you would. “I missed you, too, Toji.”
You don’t know why you miss him. Is it the excitement that comes with being with someone like Toji? Is it the way he wants you and only you even to the point he’d practically kill someone to keep you to himself? Maybe even actually kill someone to keep you to himself? Maybe you’re just as crazy as Toji – but you’re his all the time.
A small smirk curls at the corner of Toji’s lips, his other hand releasing your wrist to cup your other cheek. “That’s my girl.”
Toji leans forward and you think for a moment he’s going to kiss you, your head tilting up to meet his lips, but he doesn’t. Instead he runs the tip of his nose up and down the bridge of yours over and over, letting out a shaky breath before he presses his forehead to yours.
“I might’ve threatened to crush your date's head in in the bathroom while he was taking a shit…” Toji confesses suddenly before he presses his mouth to yours.
This might’ve pissed you off before, but now, Toji’s confession goes straight to your core and you gasp. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth. His hands tilt your head so he’s able to have more access to you, to take everything you have to offer like he always does.
The kiss heats up in no time. Toji grunts as your tongue tangles with his. Your hands come up to grab on to his shirt, tight as ever, bunching the fabric tightly in your fists. Toji steps back, guiding you to the wall of the alley, his kiss growing feverish, desperate. You moan into his mouth, rolling your hips forward when he presses his hard body against yours.
Toji breaks the kiss, panting as he drinks in the sight of your half lidded eyes, kiss swollen lips, that damn dress you’re wearing that’s keeping him from the rest of you. His fingers glide down the side of your face, along your neck and down your chest. They ghost over the swell of your breasts, over your nipples and he stops, running his thumb slowly back and forth over the hardening peaks, smiling to himself when your back arches off of the wall. He lets his hand continue their journey wandering down your form under he reaches the hem of your dress.
Then he feels his jealousy begin to crawl up his throat. He can’t help it when he thinks about you wearing this pretty dress for someone else.
“Beautiful,” he mutters, though the venom is dripping from the word. “You wear this for that fucker in the theater?”
Wide eyed and maybe a little dazed by the sudden change in attitude, you nod. Toji fists the hem of your dress, tugging the fabric gently.
“Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, you wore it for him?” He wants to hear you say it.
“Yes,” you gulp, heart thumping against your ribs. Not in panic, not in fear…but in excitement. “Yes, Toji. I wore it for him.”
Toji hums to himself…and then a loud shredding noise fills the empty space of the alleyway as Toji absolutely destroys the fabric of your dress. Heat pools in your core immediately, a soft gasp rushing past your lips. His hands come up to your waist, spinning you around. He presses his body against your back, your front pushing against the wall of the alley.
“So sweet of you to dress up for him,” Toji breathes as he leans down, running his nose along your neck, inhaling your scent. “Hope you had fun tonight.” His hands find the remnants of the hem of your dress and he pulls it up, bunching the fabric up at your waist. Then his hands are running along your body again, against your bare ass, brows lifting in surprise when he feels the thin line along your waist.
“Oh? A thong, too,” he hums, his voice sending chills up your spine. “Looks like you were planning on having fun tonight. Weren’t you?” You nod, but Toji clicks his tongue. “Words, baby.” 
You yelp quietly when Toji brings his large hand down on your exposed cheek. The loud smack echoes through the alley. “Yes,” you say breathlessly. “Yes, I was.”
“Hmm, that’s too bad your date left you then.” He tells you, and you can hear the fake pout coating his words.
Toji toys with the band of your thong before he hooks a finger into the band and easily rips the fabric of your underwear, too, and you think you’ll be lucky if you leave with even a single piece of clothing on after he’s done.
“I’m gonna touch you now. That okay?” He asks, because even through his jealousy, he’s a gentleman…sometimes.
“Yes, Toji.” 
Toji presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Oh, you’re so good for me.” He slips his fingers between your folds, hissing the moment he feels your slick coat his hand. “So damn wet for me already. I’ve barely touched you.”
“Toji, please,” you whimper when his fingers find your clit, rubbing soft circles over the sensitive nub. It’s enough to make your skin ignite with chills, but not enough to bring you even a little closer to the edge.
“I’m a little upset with you, you know?” Toji tells you casually. He slips one of his fingers into your cunt, grunting when your walls immediately squeeze down on him. “Fuck, you thought you could take this sweet little pussy and run away, huh?”
He pumps his finger in and out of your hole slowly, torturously. Your legs are trembling, hands pressed against the wall as you bite down on your lip to keep quiet. You’re in the open, getting fingerfucked in an alley. It would only take one person turning the corner for you to get caught literally with your pants down.
Your brows knit together as Toji keeps up his pace, leisurely adding another thick digit into your pussy. The coil in your belly grows tighter and tighter with every pump of his fingers, with every quiet squelch of your pussy.
“Fuck, you feel so good squeezing me like this,” Toji groans from behind you. “Wish this was my cock.” You whimper, pushing your hips back against his hand. “You want that, sweetheart?” He coos, curling his fingers into that spongy sweet spot that brings tears to your eyes. You gasp, rolling your hips back to meet his thrusts, riding his hand. 
He continues, “Yeah? You want my cock to stretch this tight little pussy, huh? Want me to fill you up like I used to?”
“God, yes! Toji. Fucking fill me up, please, please,” you beg, reduced to a teary mess against the alley wall.
Toji chuckles, stopping his ministrations and you wait for him to start again, chest rising and falling rapidly with anticipation. When you feel his fingers leave your core, you damn near feel like sobbing. You hear his zipper come down, feel his cock springing against your ass and the stickiness of his precum smearing against your asscheeks.
He leans forward, a hand resting next to your head as he whispers into your ear, “You ready for me?” Then he pushes forward, his thick cock stretching you wide open for him. It burns in the most delicious way, but you still whine quietly. And it makes Toji pause.
“Tapping out already?” He chuckles, kissing the side of your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. “Come on, baby. How many times have we done this? You can take it, right?”
“I can take it, Toji,” you mewl softly. “I can take it.”
“Good girl.” Toji nudges your cheek with his nose and you turn your head on instinct, your mouths connecting as Toji pushes forward, his cock slowly filling you. You pant into his mouth as his length stretches you open him, makes you accommodate him until he bottoms out, a deep groan leaving him.
The weight of his cock stretching you is enough. The moment Toji hits your sweet spot, your walls convulse, your orgasm catching you off guard just as a couple of patrons are walking past the dark alley. Toji puts a hand over your mouth, muffling your moans as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He doesn’t move…his gaze locked on the couple as they stand at the end of the alleyway talking to each other and laughing. They’re none the wiser to the way your pussy is clamping down so hard on his dick he could cry. It feels too good and he doesn’t have the patience to wait for them to fuck off. He’s been waiting. He’s done with that.
He grits his teeth as he pulls his hips back, hearing you gasp at the sudden emptiness and then he rolls his hips forward, hard. You cry out into his hand, eyes squeezed shut as Toji watches the couple from afar.
“Shhh. You don’t want them to hear, do you?” He taunts.
Them?
Your eyes shoot open, your blurry vision clearing enough to see a couple at the end of the alleyway. Right when you see them, Toji pulls back for a second time before he slams into you again over and over and over, grunting roughly into your ear as you both watch the couple at the end of the alleyway deep in conversation.
You pray they don’t come your way. You pray they turn around and go back the way they came…And some sick part of you prays Toji fucks you even harder because something about being so close to being caught has your arousal absolutely dripping down your thigh, coating Toji’s cock.
“You like this, huh?” Toji groans. “Hiding in plain sight, getting fucked like a slut? This is new for you.” He slams into you again, bottoms out into harder and harder, his hand squeezing down over your mouth to muffle your cries.
“This is why I love you so damn much,” he grunts, pressing his cock as far into you as possible before pulling back and doing it again. “You’re perfect for me, made for me.”
The couple at the end of the alley finally walks off, going the opposite way. The moment they’re out of sight, Toji releases your mouth, letting you cry out for him freely.
“Fuck, Toji!” You moan as he pounds into you with reckless abandon.
“Did you think…” he groans, hands coming down to squeeze your ass as he fucks into you. “There’s anywhere on this earth you could run to…” he’s panting, squeezing your ass so hard you know you’ll be sore tomorrow. “Where I wouldn’t find you?”
You’re keening into the open air now, taking every fucking harsh thrust Toji gives you. You press your forehead to the wall, feeling that familiar coil building up again, ready to snap at any moment.
“You’re mine, fucking mine, sweetheart. I’ll always find you,” he grits, dragging his lips against your cheek, pressing possessive and wet kisses along your face and neck. “You could never run from me.”
He bottoms out again, his slick balls slapping hard against you, muttering, “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum. Gonna fucking fill you up, put a fucking baby in there so you can never leave me again.”
There it is. The jealousy. The possessiveness. The craziness that you fucking love. And that’s all it takes for that coil to snap again. Your release crashes over you as you scream Toji’s name out, not caring who hears. He thrusts into you hard, fast, grunting, kissing your face sloppily until he pushes his cock into you as far as he can go. You feel him cum before he says he’s cumming, the warmth of his release filling your pussy, painting your pink walls white.
Toji buries his nose into your hair, trying to catch his breath as you both come down from your highs.
You’re an idiot. 
You tell yourself this as you come down from the high of your back to back orgasms. 
You’re an idiot…And maybe just as crazy as the man you ran away from in the first place.
Toji pulls out of you, tucks his cock away back into his pants and spins you back around. Toji places a wet kiss on your lips and takes your hand in his. 
“Let’s go home.”
2K notes · View notes
hrts4doie · 6 months
Text
sloppy seconds (study buddies pt. 2)
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wc: 4.7k
warnings: f!reader, threesome between you + doyoung + haechan, sub!haechan, switch!reader, dom!doyoung, cuckolding, degradation, humiliation, voyeurism, unprotected sex, cum play, breeding kink, dacryphilia, doyoung is shy at first then becomes mean, haechan gets ignored and cries a lot, everyone’s a bit perverted, haechan finds a new study buddy (sorry doyoung)
a/n: this is part 4 to me and @haetrack’s nerd!haechan series but can also be read as a standalone! our idea that finally made it out the dms can u believe it.. this is literally pure filth btw. part 3 (doyoung being added into this mess) can be read here on val’s account!
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haechan lost. he made a stupid bet, too caught up in his own pride, and he lost.
it’s not like he failed his exam. he did great, sure, but he still lost. to make things even more humiliating, he lost by one point. you consoled him, telling him that it was okay, but even then he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he messed up.
he’s jealous, the feeling eating him up inside knowing that doyoung, who was his favorite study buddy, is probably up right now, gloating in his glory and imagining everything he’s gonna do when he gets his hands on you.
if this were under normal circumstances, haechan might not have minded inviting doyoung over to have a threesome with his girlfriend. he thinks of himself as someone who’s generous, one that's willing to share if the situation was right, and he’s close enough with doyoung that it wouldn’t necessarily be weird. but this isn’t under normal circumstances and haechan’s only sharing you because he lost a bet.
for once, haechan thinks that he might actually hate life. he decides that this is all probably just some sick joke the universe decided to play on him, and unfortunately for the universe, haechan doesn’t really find it funny.
frustration heavy on his mind, haechan pulls out his phone and opens up his messages with doyoung. if he was going to even consider going through with this bet, they needed to talk.
haechan: we need 2 talk
haechan: about the bet.
doyoung: oh?
haechan: ur lucky she even agreed
doyoung: didn’t you make the bet assuming that she would already? lol
haechan: whatever. just come over tmrw and we’ll talk
haechan: [address attached]
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when doyoung comes over, it’s awkward.
you’re sitting on the couch with haechan next to you and the air in the room is tense with doyoung’s presence. he’s sitting across from you two, eyes darting around the room nervously. he realizes that in reality, meeting up with your friend to have a threesome with his girlfriend isn’t as easy as it sounds. is he supposed to look at you? make the first move? doyoung’s head hurts thinking about the situation.
it probably doesn’t help that haechan, your boyfriend, is staring hard at doyoung. you place a hand on his thigh, trying to comfort him while also trying to get him to stop.
“hi doyoung,” you greet, smiling warmly. if haechan wasn’t going to speak and doyoung was too nervous to even look at you, you had no option but to take the initiative.
doyoung falters, staring at you for a few moments before opening his mouth to respond. “hey, __,” he greets back. he gulps, nerves getting the best of him. he runs a hand through his hair, desperately trying to ignore how intensely haechan is staring at him from the corner of his eye.
“thanks for coming over to-”
“okay,” haechan cuts you off, “no more small talk!” he didn’t like the fact that you two were about to have a conversation about this without him. if he wasn’t going to get the first say, this wasn’t going to happen at all. sue him for being a bit possessive, but how else was he supposed to react knowing that right after this, doyoung was going to be fucking you? “there’s no need for,” he pauses, waving his hands around in gesture, “all this. i’m already humiliated enough, okay? let’s just get this over with.”
you side-eye him, noticing the growing blush on your boyfriend’s face. he’s embarrassed and almost as nervous as doyoung is.
“first of all, you can’t cum in her, okay? that’s.. that’s weird and she’s mine, so don’t get any stupid ideas. you should be grateful i’m even letting you touch her at all,” haechan mutters, suddenly avoiding eye contact with doyoung. this was so humiliating to talk about, especially with you right next to him.
doyoung runs a hand through his hair again, nodding. he glances at you, then haechan, then back to you. “is there anything else off limits?” he asks, his gaze subtly dropping down to your lips.
haechan catches this, huffing. “stop staring at her like that, man! you can.. you can kiss her, i guess. only if she wants! w-we’re not vanilla or anything like that, so that’s the only thing that’s off limits,” he frowns. the clarification was unnecessary, but he didn’t need doyoung getting any ideas about what their sex life was like.
“i don’t mind if you kiss me, doyoung,” you add in, squeezing haechan’s thigh. it was a warning, telling him to be nice.
“o-okay, yeah. i got it,” doyoung says, exhaling nervously. he runs a hand through his hair one more time. now that the rules were out there, it was awkward again. he still didn’t know how to approach this, his mind racing with different kinds of thoughts. he glances between you and haechan, uncertainty clear on his face.
a few moments pass and still, doyoung hasn’t moved. this only frustrates haechan because seriously? he gave doyoung the opportunity to touch his girlfriend and he wants to be nervous about it?
if doyoung won’t make a move, haechan will. he turns to you, leaning forward to kiss you. it’s rushed, messy, and bordering on desperate when he kisses you, hands immediately coming to grope at your skin. he’s eager, you can tell, trying to get doyoung to do something.
you pull away from the kiss, pushing haechan back by his chest. “s-slow down, babe,” you gasp out, just barely short of breath. he goes for your neck instead, leaving wet and sloppy kisses anywhere he can reach. you place a hand in his hair and yank him away from your neck, frowning. “you know your manners. doyoung’s our guest and we should welcome him properly.” haechan only whines at this, unhappy with the interruption.
doyoung, with his hands gripping his thighs, looks like he’s seen a ghost. this was weird and intruding on so many levels, yet he feels his dick growing harder as the seconds go by. you were so hot and he badly needed to be in haechan’s place, kissing and touching all over your body.
“come here, doyoung,” you call out to him, moving your attention away from haechan. you notice his bulge and giggle, the thought of having two men desperate to be all over you making you giddy.
doyoung gets up from his seat, slowly making his way to you as you beckon him over with a finger. with a newfound confidence and his dick doing the thinking for him, he leans down to connect his lips with yours.
kissing doyoung is different than kissing haechan, you note, closing your eyes. doyoung’s more controlling than haechan is, taking what he wants without asking. his hands cup your face, tilting your head upwards for a better angle. while haechan is pliant and submissive, letting you kiss him as you please, doyoung is demanding and forward.
you moan into the kiss when you feel his hands start to roam, touching and groping your body everywhere he can, as if trying familiarize himself with it. it’s so much and you feel dizzy from the way doyoung kisses you.
a loud whine breaks the moment and you pull away from doyoung, turning to look at haechan. he’s staring at you two, brows furrowed, and clearly upset. he wasn’t used to the attention being on somewhere other than him during sex, and quite frankly, he didn’t like it. not having your attention pains him, especially when it’s on doyoung instead of him. he may have lost a bet to him, but this? this wasn’t fair.
you shush haechan, telling him to be quiet, and ignore his whines of protest. haechan tries not to think about the way his dick twitches in his pants at the quick dismission.
doyoung, finding the whole situation amusing, laughs at how easily haechan folds because of you. his suspicions that haechan liked being pushed around in bed were true, and a fleeting thought about just how far he’ll go to please you crosses his mind. he puts a hand on your cheek, turning your face back to him and leans down to connect your lips in yet another heated kiss.
you cup doyoung through his sweatpants, feeling his bulge, and gasp into the kiss. doyoung is big, bigger than haechan, and the fact makes you smile. he breaks away, moaning against your neck as you palm him through his sweats. “fuck,” he moans, hips bucking into your hand. it’s good, overwhelmingly so, and he hasn’t even gotten to fuck you yet.
doyoung thinks that months of sad, heartwrenching sex with nobody but your ex will do that to a man. this is new, and good, and so fucking overwhelming.
“you’re so big,” you whisper into his ear, sliding your hand inside his pants and past his boxers, touching his cock. he groans at the contact, cursing once more.
“yeah?” he mumbles against your neck, grinding into your hand. “bet i’m bigger than haechan,” he adds on, “bet i’ll fuck you better than him too.”
you nod, the words making you throb in your panties.
haechan is quick to protest, frustrated with how he’s just been getting ignored. “that’s not–that’s not true!” he whines. doyoung was not going to fuck his own girlfriend better than him. it didn’t matter if his dick was bigger. he refused to let that to happen.
doyoung pushes you back against the couch, caging you in and sliding a hand down into your pants. he rubs at your clit through the fabric of your panties, making you moan.
“it is true, haechan,” he laughs, “i bet you can’t touch her properly either.” he connects your lips in another kiss, continuing his touch. you’re so wet, soaking through your panties, and it’s driving him crazy. between kisses, he asks, “he doesn’t know how to touch you the way you need it, hm? need me to do it cause he can’t?”
haechan’s humiliated hearing this, shaking his head even though neither of you are paying him any attention. this is so unfair, he thinks again. he does know how to please you and how to touch you. doyoung’s words were just stupid and untrue. what’s stupider is the way he’s so hard, cock straining against his pants while he’s watching doyoung touch you like he’s not even there.
“y-yeah,” you agree, throwing your head back with another moan, “so much better with you, doyoung, fuck.” his hand is inside your panties now, feeling your cunt and just how wet you truly are. his fingers tease along your folds before moving back to rub your clit. the touch is foreign, different than the way haechan touches you, yet you still can’t get enough of it.
haechan hates this. he hates everything about this situation and he’s embarrassed because he he likes it. he likes the humiliation and the way you two ignore him. it makes his stomach twist in unexplainable ways and his cock throbs in his pants every time you tell him to shush or to be quiet.
doyoung is kissing down your neck when you finally call haechan over, deciding to spare him just a little. he scurries to the other end of the couch, desperate for at least some kind of attention. his eyes are wide, silently begging, and he can’t help the whine that leaves his mouth as he gets closer to you.
he tries to ignore that doyoung is right there next to him, hands roaming freely inside your panties while haechan can’t even touch.
you grab him by his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. you love when he gets like this, so needy and desperate for your touch. breaking away, you ask, “you gonna be good and wait, hm? let doyoung have his turn while you sit–fuck–sit there and watch?” it’s difficult to focus with the way doyoung is touching you, his fingers hitting all the right spots.
dumbly, haechan nods. he’ll be good, he thinks, even if the image of doyoung fucking you makes him want to cry.
“good, baby,” you whisper, kissing him again. “take us to the bedroom so you can show doyoung just how good you are, okay?”
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haechan watches from the corner of the bed as doyoung peels off your shirt.
you’re laughing, amused by the way doyoung’s eyes widen as he gropes at your chest. it’s experimental and slow, not familiar like the way haechan touches you.
haechan knows he can make you feel better faster than doyoung can. doyoung’s taking his time, learning what you like, but haechan knows. he knows what gets you going and what makes you moan the loudest. it’s frustrating to watch. he wishes he could just show doyoung how much better he is, but he promised to be good.
as doyoung’s hands roam across your bare skin, haechan can only watch as he lets his palm subtly grind against his clothed clock, taking off a little bit of the edge. his cock is so hard it hurts. he wishes he were touching you instead.
doyoung’s whispering words into your ear that are too soft for haechan to hear. it’s as if he’s not even there and doyoung’s your boyfriend instead.
haechan watches as you get manhandled by doyoung, placed prettily in his lap, and watches as he spreads your legs apart. you’re on display, cunt glistening right in front of haechan’s face, and all he can do is watch. he’s staring hard at your core, zeroing in on the way doyoung’s fingers start to carefully dip inside you. he starts with two, slowly starting to pump them in and out of you.
“god, you’re beautiful,” doyoung whispers against your skin. you’re dripping, clenching hard around his fingers as he fucks you. they’re so long, reaching deep inside you and curling just right against your sweet spot. “it’s a shame haechan didn’t share you sooner,” he continues, his free hand coming up to grope at your breasts again.
“doyoung–mmh–doyoung, please,” you gasp as he starts to pick up the pace, fingers pumping in and out of you quickly. a loud squelch sounds as does, your pussy sucking his fingers in even deeper. the sound is embarrassing and it makes you flush a bright red. “d-doyoung,” you moan, throwing your head back on his shoulder and trying again.
“hm?” he hums, smiling against your neck. he’s staring right into haechan’s eyes, a mean look in his eye.
doyoung wants to humiliate haechan and show him that no matter what he does, he’s still going to be better. haechan’s girlfriend is in his lap, cunt dripping around his fingers, and moaning out his name, not haechan’s.
haechan feels stuck when he stares back at doyoung.
you’re oblivious to the silent interaction, too caught up in the way doyoung’s fingers feel inside of you to notice. you moan as he slips in a third, stretching your hole and making you feel full. suddenly, all you can think about is how badly you want his cock inside you.
“you’re so fucking wet,” doyoung groans, looking away from haechan to kiss down your neck. “it’s all for me, isn’t it? not your boyfriend?” he asks, curling his fingers inside you again. the words make you whine and nod, overwhelmed by doyoung’s words and the way he touches you.
you know haechan’s watching, pathetically palming himself through his boxers, and you can’t help but play things up a little. “w-want your cock, doyoung,” you moan, “please, i need it!”
haechan whimpers, hips bucking up into his hand. he’s ashamed, cock twitching as he realizes just how turned on he is by his girlfriend moaning another man’s name. this is so wrong, he thinks. you’ve tuned him out completely, attention purely on doyoung, and yet he’s still so turned on.
doyoung pulls his fingers out of you, wiping them on the sheets, and quickly manhandles you onto your back. you whine at the loss of his fingers, clenching around nothing. you need him to fuck you now and the wait is driving you mad.
“c’mon, fuck me already,” you whine, rolling your hips.
he laughs, moving to kneel between your legs. “yeah? need my cock that badly?” he asks, hands teasing along your thighs. “beg me for it,” he whispers, “beg for my cock and maybe i’ll give it to you.”
doyoung’s doing this on purpose and you know it. you know he wants to humiliate haechan, wants to make you beg for another man’s cock that isn’t his. you know and you like it.
“fuck me, please,” you beg, spreading your legs wider. “want your cock, doyoung. fuck me like i deserve, please.”
“that’s it, baby,” doyoung groans, spitting into his hand and slowly starting to stroke his cock. his tip is bright red and leaking from how badly he wants you. “just a little more,” he beckons, “need to know you really want it.”
haechan wishes the ground would just swallow him whole. tears are starting to well up in his eyes as he listens to you beg and he wishes you would just look at him. doyoung isn’t that good. he can’t be, haechan thinks, trying to console himself.
doyoung teases the tip of his cock against your hole, just barely pushing in.
“please, doyoung,” you try again, wrapping your legs around his waist. he’s so close yet still so far.
without warning, doyoung pushes in, bottoming out in one go. a moan rips from your throat at the sudden intrusion, his cock stuffing you full.
“look at that,” he mumbles, eyes glued to the way you’re practically sucking him in, pussy clenching hard around his cock. “so fucking tight,” doyoung groans, lightly thrusting. he’s letting you adjust, hips barely moving, and it’s still so much. you squeeze your eyes shut and whimper from how big he feels inside you.
haechan reaches inside his boxers, pulling out his neglected cock with a cry. he can’t tear his eyes away from the sight of doyoung fucking you, no matter how much he claims to hate it.
you open your eyes, turning your head to look at your boyfriend and the teary look in his eye. “d-don’t you dare touch yourself, haechan. i told you to be good,” you say, ignoring how this makes him whine even more.
you turn back to doyoung, rolling your hips and begging for him to move.
doyoung grips your waist and slowly starts to thrust inside you, his thick cock dragging against your walls. you were so tight around him, making him moan as he starts to fuck you faster. his pace is relentless as his hips snap against yours, cock sinking deeper and deeper.
“s-shit,” he groans, the lewd sound of skin slapping filling the room. “you were made to take it, weren’t you? m-made to take my cock,” doyoung grunts, glasses starting to slip off his face from how hard he was fucking you.
“oh my g-god,” you moan, pussy clenching tightly around him. you can barely think, the pleasure and doyoung’s cock inside you making you lose your mind.
doyoung slows down, stopping his thrusts completely before bringing a hand up to fix his glasses. you whine as he stops, trying to get him to move again.
he turns to look at haechan, a mean smile on his face. he gently starts to thrust inside you again, all while keeping eye contact with him. “look at this, haechan,” doyoung calls, “look at how she’s sucking me in. let’s make a bet on who fucks her better, yeah? you’ll lose that too, won’t you haechan?”
doyoung’s words are mean and haechan’s not sure he can take it. he shakes his head, trying to defend himself. “that’s not–that’s not true, doyoung,” he whines, gripping the base of his cock so he doesn’t cum. he can’t even look at doyoung anymore.
“c’mon, doyoung,” you beg, wanting him to pick up the pace, “ignore him and fuck me, please.”
doyoung turns back to you, leaning down to kiss you. he slams his hips into you, fucking you fast and hard. you moan into his mouth and wrap your arms around his neck, hole twitching around his cock as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
his kisses trail down to your neck and his glasses are starting to fog up from how hot it is in the room. he moans against your skin every time you clench around him, thrusts starting to get more and more desperate. doyoung fucks you faster, pounding into your messy cunt as he feels himself getting close. he brings a hand down to rub your at clit in time with his thrusts, causing you to cry out.
“i’m c-close, fuck,” doyoung moans against your neck. you’re clinging onto his back, moans loud as you try to keep up with his pace. “tell me you’re close, baby,” he begs, grunting as your walls squeeze him impossibly tighter.
too overwhelmed to speak, you nod and your thighs start to shake. all it takes is one more deep thrust from doyoung before you’re cumming, shocks of pleasure washing over your body and your pussy spasming around his cock. “doyoung,” you moan out, hands flying to his hair.
“that’s it,” doyoung grunts, hips starting to lose their rhythm as he feels you cum around him. his dick twitches inside you, so close to cumming, before he quickly pulls out, leaving your hole gaping.
he sits back on his heels, quickly starting to jerk himself off. finally, he cums with a loud groan, dick twitching in his hand before he spills all over you, painting your stomach white. he’s panting, looking down at you with a dark look in his eye, almost as if he’s admiring his work.
you’re a mess, makeup smeared and hair all over the place, and it’s all because of doyoung. his cum paints your skin, and to him, it’s art.
doyoung turns to look at haechan, wanting to brag in his face. the sight is pathetic. haechan is stroking his cock, tip leaking, and all thoughts of waiting for permission to touch himself fly out the window. he just watched his girlfriend get fucked by another man and now he badly needs to cum.
coming back to your senses, you sit up against the headboard and turn your attention back to haechan. “don’t you even think about cumming, haechan. come here,” you demand, “you know what’s gonna happen if you cum without my permission.”
haechan full on sobs at this, pulling his hand away from his cock. his hips buck in the air and you hear doyoung laugh beside you, humiliating haechan even further. tears are rolling down his face as he desperately crawls across the bed to you, kneeling between your spread legs.
“l-let me touch you, please,” he begs, hiccuping. “i’ve been good, just please let me touch,” haechan goes on, babbling about how badly he needs you. his poor cock hangs heavy between his legs, neglected and leaking.
“shh,” you coo, wiping a tear from his eye. “you wanna touch me?”
haechan frantically nods, nearly knocking his glasses off his face.
“i’ll let you touch me, hyuckie,” you whisper, leaning back. “clean me up and i’ll let you touch, okay?” you ask, smiling.
haechan freezes, looking between you and the cum on your stomach. it’s doyoung’s cum that’s all over your body, not his. “clean.. clean that?”
“i thought you wanted to be good?” you ask, placing a hand in his hair and pulling his head down to your stomach. “are you gonna be good or not?��
doyoung’s eyes widen at the situation before he grins. the thought of just how far haechan will go to please you crosses his mind again.
haechan’s face crumples as he sticks out his tongue, licking up the first drop of doyoung’s cum. it’s gross, humiliating, and the taste is strange, but he wants to be good. he looks up at you, tongue traveling across your stomach as he licks up the rest of the cum.
your breath hitches as you watch him and you bite your lip, keeping a hand in his hair.
haechan whimpers as he finally licks up the last drop, a stray tear rolling down his cheek. you yank him up by his hair and connect your lips in a heated kiss. he’s needy, already forgetting about the fact that he just licked doyoung’s cum from your body and thinking only about how he needs to fuck you.
his hands are all over your body, touching anywhere and everywhere after being deprived for so long. he whines against your lips, pulling away to catch his breath.
“please let me fuck you,” he begs, too desperate to think clearly anymore. “please, baby, need to fuck you.”
you shush him, wrapping a hand around his aching cock. “you think you deserve it?” you ask, slowly starting to stroke him. haechan whimpers, hips bucking into your hand. he nods, trying not to cum on the spot.
you turn your head to doyoung who’s sitting right next to you, “should i let him?”
doyoung looks haechan up and down, taking in his pathetic state, and decides to be nice. “let him fuck you. he listened good enough, i think.”
haechan feels relief wash over him at doyoung’s answer, silently thanking him in his head. “come on, please,” he begs you again, leaning down to kiss you on the corner of your mouth. haechan thinks he might die if he doesn’t get to fuck you in the next five seconds.
you let go of his cock, spreading your legs further. “fuck me, baby. show me how much you need me.”
haechan wastes no time, grabbing the base of his cock and guiding it to your entrance, bottoming out in one thrust. he feels tears well up in his eyes again at the feeling of your warm walls around his cock. “f-fuck,” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut. being inside you is almost too much.
your hole spasms around his cock, still sensitive from the way doyoung fucked you before. “i want you to cum, hyuckie. you deserve it, don’t you think?”
haechan nods and starts to frantically snap his hips against yours, fucking you like his life depends on it. his thrusts are sloppy with no rhythm, driven purely by want and the need to cum. all he can think about is how he needs to fill you up and show doyoung that he’s the only one who can do this.
you throw your head back with a moan, caging haechan in with your legs. “t-that’s it, baby,” you praise, “cum for me.”
haechan cries out as he feels your walls tighten around him again, hips stuttering. he thrusts in one more time before finally letting go, spilling his cum deep inside you. you pull him down for another kiss, moaning into his mouth.
you pull away, caressing his face. he flops down against you, cock going soft and slipping out. his glasses are gone too, lost somewhere in the sheets and left behind in a fit of desperation. you giggle when you notice this, wrapping your arms around him.
“thank you,” he mumbles, face dropping down to hide in your neck. he’s exhausted and currently rethinking his life choices.
doyoung clears his throat, pushing his glasses up his nose. “that was.. wow,” he says stupidly, looking between you two. he’s satisfied yet suddenly feeling like he’s intruding.
you giggle, running your fingers through haechan’s hair while you look at doyoung. “i almost want to say thank you for winning,” you teasingly say to him.
doyoung, suddenly shy, bites his lip and asks, “was it.. was it good? better than haechan, i mean?”
at this, haechan whips his head up, whining. “stop! that’s not–no! i’m never making another bet with you again after this, doyoung! this was the first and the last,” he grumbles, squinting at his study mate.
you and doyoung both laugh at his words. “i was kidding,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender. “i see why you two are together. you’re…” he pauses, flashbacks of everything replaying in his mind, “let’s just say you’re good for each other?” the laugh that follows is nervous, almost like he’s not sure how to explain.
haechan decides that he’s definitely opening up applications for a new study buddy after this.
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a/n: umm.. hrts4doie first fic who else cheered!! i just want to say THAAANNNKKK YOU SOO MUCCHH to val aka @haetrack for coming up with this series with me and also helping me write parts of this!! im soooo excited to finally be posting this and completing the nerd!haechan series but i love nerd!doyoung so bad i just might write more of him. anyways i hope u guys enjoyed and lmk what u thought!!
tags: @haetrack @beidouvv
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krirebr · 8 months
Text
Caught Up in Your Trap
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Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader
Word Count: 5.4k
Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.
Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.
Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore. 
He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.
“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”
“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”
“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”
Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”
The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”
They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.
The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.” 
Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.
Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.” 
Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”
Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”
Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”
“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.
Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.
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This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.
The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.
Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked. 
The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.
He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.
Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.
You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.” 
You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”
He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”
This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”
He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.” 
Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”
He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”
That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.
“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”
Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.
He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”
You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.
He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.
“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”
You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing. 
He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”
You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.
The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.
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You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.
You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on. 
Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.
“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you? 
You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut. 
Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.
Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.
He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”
“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.
“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”
You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact. 
“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”
What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.
Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.
“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”
You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.  
“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.
“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”
He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”
He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”
You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”
He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t. 
You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on. 
When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on. 
When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it. 
As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.
After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”
God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.” 
He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”
You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.
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Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?
You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered. 
And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.
You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”
Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”
His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”
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Tag list is open
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aziraphales-library · 10 days
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Hi there! I just wanted to congratulate you for all your hard work!! All of you have made an important account for this fandom, and I hope you're all doing alright
As a treat (and only if you want!!), can you tell me a cool fic you've read but never recommended before? (If not, that's quite alright)
Hello. Here are some fics I've read and enjoyed recently that I don't think we've recommended before, but if we have they are worth recommending again and adding to the #mod faves tag...
Marriage in an Orange Grove by shanimalx (T)
Murmurations is the oldest café in Soho, whose clientele is usually limited to reclusive artists, older men who value peace and quiet, and those who know the employees personally. Crowley is all three. (Aziraphale makes Crowley a cup of coffee, and Crowley kind of wants to marry him for it.)
Imagine how the world could be by HolRose (T)
Salesman Crowley is driving home when he sees a man in obvious distress at the side of the road. He stops and offers him a lift. Little does he know that this compassionate action will change his life forever. This is a human AU that can be read as a stand-alone story without reference to the other works in the series.
Between a Book and a Hard Place by LCwrites (E)
After a very enjoyable one-night stand, A. Z. Fell and A. J. Crowley go separate ways, though memories of each other linger. More than they ought to, considering it was nothing but a casual encounter and they won't meet again. How fortunate for them that their respective work is keeping them busy. Having one of his more salacious novels turned into an audio book should be enough of a distraction for Aziraphale. As should be getting to narrate one of the famous M. Cortese's porn books – pardon: historical erotica – for Crowley.
A Tricky Situation (Entirely of his own making) by sixbynine (E)
"Crowley stood up and went to leave, he turned back just as he opened the door and took a deep breath. “You know I was quite excited to come here and work with you. I enjoyed reading your work. I disagree with a lot of it, but your writing style is lovely and every so often you’d let that privileged rich white boy mask drop and it was fantastic. I was hoping to meet that Professor Fell, but I’m beginning to think maybe he doesn’t exist and I’m going to be stuck with a rude stuck up arsehole for the next five years.” He slammed the door behind him before Aziraphale could respond. Aziraphale gaped, open mouthed, at the shut door." -- Aziraphale is teaching at Kings College London. He's been teaching at King College London for a long time now thank you very much and he does not take kindly to new Professors being sprung on him suddenly. Especially when this one has quite publically made his opinon of Aziraphale's work known. Luckily Aziraphale has an understanding penpal...
Among the Stacks by MeinirRhos (NR)
Nearly a year after Aziraphale returns to Heaven, he vanishes from existence, leaving Crowley bereft on Earth. Just when the demon has finally started to heal and move on with his life, he finds his angel by chance in a library. But Aziraphale has no memory of his life as an angel, or of Crowley. How will our hero cope?
But You Are An Ocean by megzseattle (T)
After Aziraphale's defection, Crowley tries to figure out how to live life for himself.
- Mod D
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gilverrwrites · 7 days
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The Best You Ever Had
Jason Todd/Reader, 1.7K
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A/N: Welp, as promised here’s that self-serving, mildly fucked up Jason Todd/Reader scenario I mentioned earlier. I’m working on I don’t fall, I fly chapter two I swear, but I had to get this unhinged Jason idea out of my head if I’m gonna concentrate. I don’t remember the exact details of the plotline I’m branching off of here 100% so if it’s inaccurate sue me. Warnings: Darker portrayal of Jason. Unhealthy relationship to slightly less unhealthy relationship, non-graphic mentions of death, grief, dub-con, manipulation, abuse of authority kinda, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, swearing, size difference, hair pulling.
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Right so, remember when Jason went balls to the wall on absoloutely fucking ruining Penguins’ life after finding out he was responsible for the death of his birth father?
Okay, now imagine you’re working at The Iceberg at the time, as a waitress, a card dealer, dancer, whatever you fancy, it’s mainly just a cover for the fact that you’re actually Ozwald’s sugar baby.
You’re practically attached to his hip. Sure, he can be a bit much at times, a bit mean, but he’s real sweet on you. There isn’t a thing in this world he wouldn’t do for you, no clothes or gadgets too expensive, no jewels too well-guarded, 'cause you’re his favourite gal. At least you were until you watched Red Hood shoot him in the head on live TV.
Ozzie had paid your rent, your bills, everything, he’d showered you with gifts, but he’d never dealt you actual cash. Without his bank account to fund your checks, you have nothing, not unless you sell off your material possessions. So, not only are you grieving, but you’re forced to pick up as many extra shifts as you can in order to afford to keep up your lifestyle.
Being at The Lounge only reminds you of him, which makes your sorrows worse. You were never bad at the cover job, in fact, it’s how you got your foot in the door. But your emotions are affecting your performance, and when your new boss, Jason Todd, calls you into his office for a performance review, you’re pretty much resigned to the fact that you’re about to be fired.
However, Mr Todd is surprisingly chill. Understanding even. He doesn’t grill you; he just points out that your performance as of late does not match up with Cobblepots files and asks why? What can we do to fix it?
You feel comfortable explaining that you and his predecessor were close, and so his sudden death has hit you hard. You need time to mourn but can’t afford the time off.
When a tear rolls down your cheek you start to feel self conscious until he rounds the desk, crouching in front of you and presenting you with a tissue. He offers you the weekend off, paid, and promises to look into amending the shoddy bereavement policy Oz had enforced. But for now, commiserating may help, and he’s happy to listen, to be a shoulder to cry on.
So, you take the tissue, dabbing up all the tears that fall as you tell him about your arrangement. How Oz had done so much for you, got you out of a pit, how no matter what your friends and family thought, Ozzie really did have your best interests at heart, you swear. Mr Todd nods along, offering a polite laugh when you tell him a funny story, or pulling faces when you recall some of Oz’s less-than-savoury moments. His disapproval makes you feel validated in your distaste for some of the seedier things you’d let Oz get away with because he loved you.
After a while, you move from the desk to the conversation pit which sits beside a floor to ceiling fish tank. You can’t help commending him for keeping on top of looking after the fish and their habitat, it’s a lot of work. He tells you it’s one of his favourite things in the whole building and you agree, recalling how you used to spend hours watching the fish go about their existence when Ozzie would call for you only to spend the evening ignoring you whilst he dealt with 'business'. Jason says that you’re more than welcome to come see the fishes any time you like.
He's so much kinder than you’d expected. Which is why you don’t move when you feel his hand on your back, drawing you closer with strong arms until the warmth of his breath brushes your neck. It’s been weeks since you’d gotten this close with anyone. You hadn’t realised how much you’d craved the intimacy until it was handed to you.
And shit, he smells good too. Looking into his undeniably handsome face you’re struck with guilt for having enjoyed the company, the touch of another man and can’t help the second? third? who knows, wave of tears.
The tissue he’s given you is too sodden to do anything, so he reaches up with his long, surprisingly coarse fingers to wipe up your tears, and you let him.
Your weeping soon starts to ebb after that, but the few droplets that fall regardless are dried by his lips as he boldly presses kisses to your cheeks, and again, you let him.
“You shouldn’t waste your tears on that asshole.” The way he stares into your eyes as he speaks, it almost feels like he’s daring you to challenge him. “You’ll be better off without him.”
Out of respect for Oz, or maybe to defend yourself you bite back at him. “He’s not- he wasn’t an asshole! Not to me.” But you both know it’s a lie.
Before either of you say something you’ll regret, you decide to do something you’ll regret instead. In sync, you both crash your lips together, and Jason all but forces you onto your back with his body weight, his tongue pushing between your lips as his hands work at your uniform.
He’s nothing like Oz. His hands are strong and deft, free of perspiration as they pop your buttons with precision and knead at your newly exposed skin. His mouth, while steeped with a hint of beer, tastes clean. He looks at you with a reverence you’d never experienced before as he draws back to look you in the eye.
“Let me treat you the way you deserve, the way a real man should.” He begs, and when you nod, he practically starts tearing at his clothes. You work on his belt while he pulls his shirt and waistcoat over his head, too impatient to bother with his own buttons.
Your eyes bulge, heart plummeting to your stomach when he pulls down his boxers, exposing a dauntingly large erection.
“Bet you’ve not seen something this big in a long time.” He suggests with a smirk.
“No, I’ve never seen anything that big.” You offer, shuddering when he teases the tips between your slit, grazing your clit. “I don’t think I can take something like that.”
“You will.” His confidence goes straight to your already hungry centre. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it easy on you.”
You gasp when you feel friction at your entrance, and Jason chuckles into the crook of your neck, gently fussing in your ear as he slips a single finger inside you. True to his word, Jason makes the whole thing (mostly) painless and effortless, working his fingers into you one at a time, scissoring his digits and massaging your sensitive clit until you're stretched out and cumming all over his palm, staining the sofa beneath you. Purring to you all the while about how tight and plush your pussy is, how fucking good his cock is gonna make you feel, how he can’t wait to make you forget all about Cobblepot by making you gush all over his dick again and again.
When you’re partly lucid again, coming down from your first orgasm Jason lifts you with ease. He sits back against the couch, settling between your legs so that you’re straddling him. Guiding you onto his cock, thrusting from below, drawing a sinful cry from you as he fills you in one quick movement. It wasn’t unbearable, in fact, you’re a little flustered by the ease with which your pussy sucked him up, but your walls still throb from the final stretch of him buried in the depth at which his impossibly long fingers hadn’t been able to reach.   
His hands grip and caress and pinch every part of you, soaking in every inch as you ride him out, grinding your hips against his, using his body to chase your second release. His lips latch along your torso, sucking and biting his mark into your skin. This time, once you've successfully fucked yourself to climax on his dick, he doesn’t wait for you to come back down. Flipping you over and pushing you forward, he puts you on your hands and knees, presented for him on the coffee table so he can pound into you from behind.
Once he’s coaxed another orgasm out of you there, he carries you to his desk. He fucks you over and over. Revelling in every heated orgasm he rips from you, eating up your sob. He takes you on every surface. The floor, the walls, the window. He even presses you face first against the fishtank, making you watch your reflection in its mirrored back, and you are a pornographic sight to behold; lips dark and swollen from his kisses, hair tangled in his fist, tits pressed against the glass as he pistons in and out of your twitchingly overstimulated, cunt. Every thrust is slick, punctuated by the wet slap of your hips coming together. By this point, Jason’s unending strength is the only thing keeping you upright.
“That bird creep ever fuck you this good, baby?” He grunts into your ear, dark eyes glaring at you through the glass. From this angle you can see how his body practically engulfs yours; the reflection showcasing how his massive palms seem herculean when pinning you. All night he’d been throwing you around, bending and posing you to his will like a doll in his sturdy arms. Something Oz could never do.  
“No, god no Jason!” You whine. Drool spills from your lips as you try to speak. It catches on the glass, smearing back on your face but you’re too utterly fucked, too cock drunk to be embarrassed. “Nobody… never been… fucked like…”
When you don’t finish your sentence Jason laughs, it almost sounds cruel and sends a shockwave to the clit you long thought had been abused to numbness. “Am I the best fuck you ever had?”
“Yes! Yesyesyesyes.” You chant. Completely oblivious to the fact that your sugar daddy, Oswald Cobblepot is not dead. He’s very much alive, and very much not well as he watches Jason Todd fuck the brains out of his best gal from his prison on the other side of the one-way mirror. 
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the girl next door 19
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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You stare straight ahead, to humiliated to look at the man next to you. You haven't since you woke up. 
You wallow in confusion, trying to piece together the void in your mind. It's all blank after the shower. No matter how much you try, it just makes your head hurt. 
"You didn't eat much. You feeling okay?" He breaks the silence as he comes in view of the hospital. 
"Yeah, not very hungry," you murmur.  
"You know, I read the insert with the pills, that's one of the side effects. Plus it can really knock you on your butt. Must be what happened last night." 
"Please," you beg; just the mention has you squirming. 
"And fatigue can be a symptom of depression so that might also be why--" 
"I'm sorry," you hide your face in your hands, "I don't remember. I don't want to talk about it." 
"I told you, sweetie," he slows and finds a spot among the lot, "we just slept, alright? I just wanted to keep an eye on you otherwise I would've let you have the bed." 
You curl your fingers and dig them into your eye sockets. He doesn't get it. She doesn't hate him. 
"Please," you sniffle and sit up, "don't tell my mom.' 
"Don't tell--" he hits the button to kill the engine and unbuckles his seat belt, "there's nothing to tell, right?" 
"Yeah, but if... if she thought..." you stammer as you swipe away a glimmer of tears, "she's sick. I don't wanna m-make it worse." 
"Alright, sweetie," he reaches between the seats and squeezes your shoulders, "it can be our little secret." 
You nod a gulp. Your chest racks with the air trapped inside. He lets his hand brush down your arm. 
"Sweetie, it's okay. I'm going to take care of you. You and your mom," he retracts his touch, "now let's go say good morning." 
You undo your belt and get out as he opens the back door. He takes out the balloon and flowers he stopped to pick up on the way. He had you sign the card but your mom will know it wasn't your idea. You're too stupid to think of that. 
You offer to help but he waves you off. You go through the visitor's entrance and up the elevator. He approaches the nurses' station and greets them easily. He makes you feel worse for how sure he is of himself. The world isn't scary to him. The world doesn't mind him being there. 
As you get to your mother's room, you stop short. He nearly collides with your back and he chuckles. 
"Here, honey, you take the flowers," he offers the bouquet, "she's going to love them." 
You turn and take them without argument. They're your only defense. You enter slowly and Steve follows. 
"Morning, honey," he chimes past you, "surprise!" 
"Emf, Steve?" She gurgles as she turns her head one way then the other, "oh, Steve, you're here." 
"Just like we promised," he goes to her and kisses her forehead then gives her the card, tying the balloon to the bed rail. "Brought some flowers." 
"Shouldn't have done all that," she's back to her act, smiling for him as she sits up with an exaggerated effort, "I'll be coming home." 
"I know, just wanted to brighten your day," he shrugs, "we were real worried. Both of us." 
Your mother's eyes skim in your direction and narrow, "she didn't give ya too much trouble, did she?" 
"She's perfect, hon," he assures. "Really, she's been a lot of help. I was in a state and she took good care of me." 
"She did?" She wonders.  
You try not to react. He's lying but you wouldn't want him to tell the truth. You just keep your mouth shut and come forward to offer the flowers. 
"Here," you say, "love you, mom." 
She takes them with a brittle silence then quickly resumes her preening, looking at Steve as she inhales the scent, "oh, so lovely." She lowers them and rests them on her lap, "you didn't happen to bring coffee? I'm dying for a cup." 
"Ah, gee, you know, it slipped my mind," Steve says, "guess there were bigger things." 
"I'll... I'll go to the cafeteria and get some," you offer and feel around your pockets. You forgot your change purse. Shoot. "Erm..." 
"Here," Steve reaches in his back pocket, "it's on me. If you can grab me an orange juice and something for yourself. Thanks, kiddo." 
He hands you a folded twenty from his wallet. You take it reluctantly and glance at your mom. Her eye twitches but she keeps a placid expression. You turn to leave as she quickly forgets you. 
“I missed you so much,” she whines. 
“I know, honey, but we should talk...” 
Those words chase you out the door and prickle the hair along your neck. What are they talking about? He said he wouldn’t tell her. 
You can barely see straight as you walk the halls, losing yourself several times before getting to the elevators. When at last you’ve reached the cafeteria, you struggle to remember what you’re there for. You grab the coffee and an orange juice and pay, keeping the change clutched tight. 
You head back up, lightheaded from the motion of the elevator, and float through the halls, unseen and unbothered by the bodies around you. You feel invisible. Sometimes, you wonder if you’re even a part of the same world. 
You stop outside your mom’s room, the door open. 
“Steve, it’s a lot...” she mutters gloomily. 
“Trust me, Holly, alright?” 
You cough and step through. You put the coffee on the table near your mother’s bed and turn to offer Steve his juice and change. He accepts them as they both stay quiet, almost as if they’re not telling you something. 
“Thanks, kiddo,” he speaks at last and tucks the money away, “you didn’t get anything?” 
“No, it’s okay.” 
You glance at your mother, expecting a gripe. ‘Good you don’t want her spending all your money’. She just reaches for the coffee, a tick in her cheek as she finds no sugar or cream with it. Another mess up.  
“Well, I’ll go get the doctor, have him check you out and see if you’re ready to go,” Steve claps his hands. 
“Sure,” your mother hums and pops the lid off her coffee, “you’re a life saver, honey.” 
Steve drives you and your mother home, a layer of exhaustion settling around all of you. You don’t think your mother got very much sleep at the hospital and your own did little to nip away at your constant sluggishness. Even Steve yawns as he pulls onto the avenue and pulls into your mother’s driveway. 
You get out as he helps your mother from the front seat. You trail them up the porch and skirt around to open the door. Even as you try to be helpful, you feel like you’re in the way. 
Your mother’s hand is shaking pretty bad as Steve gets her into the recliner. You watch from the archway and wring your hands. It feels like forever since you’ve been home. The break in routine has you restless. 
“I’ll stick around for a bit but I got a buddy stopping by later. I’ve been putting it off and he’s starting to get pushy,” he explains, “but you can always call me. Kiddo,” he stands straight, hands on his hips, “you got my number? So you can text.” 
“I don’t have a phone,” you frown. 
“I’ll call ya,” your mother insists over you.  
“Okay, well, I’ll make you something to eat before I head out. Did they give you your meds at the hospital?” He asks. 
You see your mom hesitate. She’s never been one to be coddled. She always told you to back off but with him, she can’t break the facade. Her cheek ticks and she flutters her lashes, her tremour worsening. 
“Oh, Steve, I don’t feel so well. Do you have to go?” She moans. 
“Honey, did you take your meds?” He repeats more firmly. 
“Ugh, yes, okay?” She huffs and drops back on the recliner. “You don’t have to remind me I’m sick.” 
Steve crosses his arms and tilts his head, “I’m making sure you don’t get worse. Don’t talk to me like that.” 
“I’m sorry,” she heaves and hides behind her hand, “I’m so stressed and it’s just... horrible to not be able to stuff on your own.” 
“Doesn’t mean you get to take it out on everyone else,” he reprimands. He sounds mad. You’ve never heard him like that. “Look, I gotta get moving around here. You think about what we talked about.” He turns and winces as he sees you, almost like he forgot you. “Kiddo, why don’t you go chill out? It’s been a long morning.” 
You nod and quickly retreat, thankful for the opportunity to be alone. 
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tranzjen · 3 months
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🖤💙 4 days until my Surgery 💙🖤
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(Picture taken Dec 9th, 2023)
I'm very very excited for my surgery (it's my second gender affirming surgery but this one is more significant to me since it'll be top and bottom surgery) and I'm obviously counting the days until it and I thought some people might be interested in my trans journey 🏳️‍⚧️ So see part 7 below the cut.
Part 1 here
As the summer was ending, I got really lucky! A lesbian hairstylist (who helped organize the drag show I went in the last update) gave my name to this sales lady who sold accounting work to like companies and she needed help with researching CEO and CFO types. And she paid me out of pocket and honestly it was pretty easy internet research using Google. I felt like a little rat scurrying across the Internet 🐀 So, thank you lesbians 🙏🙏
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(Picture taken Nov 6th, 2022)
Apparently I really impressed her so she got me hired full time as a sales admin for her company (I wouldn't have gotten with my lack of a college degree without her) and I've had that job since! And a lot of my transition wouldn't be possible without the pay and benefits of this job. Also this is my first job where I get gendered correctly and I'm slowly getting less anxious about going to the bathroom at work 🥰
She honestly mom'd up on me and bought me a bunch of new business casual clothes for the job. And here's an example of one of my new work outfits 😁
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(Picture taken Nov 14, 2022)
Bc of the new job I was able to afford a lot more things for transitioning! Like voice training. I remember when I first cracked I tried to just teach myself using videos but I wasn't good at it 😅 Also a friend during the summer of 2022 helped me and I did make some progress with her help. But, I started making a lot more progress once I started seeing a speech therapist. But, there was a barrier since I could tell she hadn't worked too much with trans people. I went to a speech therapist bc it was covered by my insurance but she moved and then I couldn't find anyone for insurance covered speech therapy. So, I eventually just paid for lessons Your Lessons Now. And, honestly it's going a lot better! It's really nice to be able to talk about my frustrations with voice training with another transfem. The biggest thing I'm learning from here is how to break the bad habit of pitching up my voice by squeezing my vocal chords.
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(Picture taken Sept 8th, 2023)
I had also switched to injections and I highly recommend it! A friend even made my first two vials into earrings 🔥
I also got a lot lazier with makeup 😅 I do eyeliner wings, mascara, and blush for when I go into the office. Which for a bunch of accountants means I do about as much makeup that is normal for the women in the office 🤷‍♀️
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(Pictures taken October 31st and December 2nd of 2022)
These were two notable exceptions. I really love the makeup I did for the Halloween of 2022 bc I decided to go as a ghost-type trainer. And the one on the right is when I learned how to use concealer to cover my 'raccoon eyes' as my dad liked to call them 🦝
Also this would be a good time to mention something I probably should've mentioned earlier 😅 I never learned how to use foundation. I know it's easy but I have a weird mental block around it 🤷‍♀️ But, in the summer of 2021 I started doing twice daily skincare routine for my face. Which took me from a very acne heavy face to people being surprised I'm not wearing foundation. Also the routine is really nice. Would recommend to those who want to get rid of their acne (send an ask if you want to know specifics).
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(Picture taken Aug 20, 2023)
Romance update since I've been doing that lol: Well, things ended with all the girlfriends I had so I am down to 1 partner. And I got caught in a romance scam for a few months 😭 However, I can't really complain because I got engaged!!! It was so sweet in cute. My partner and I had this date the night before Valentine's Day under a statue outside of a local art museum. We read sapphic poetry by candle light and then they popped the question 🥰🥰
But, I say another big part of this era was I made a lot more local trans friends. Went to a good amount of house parties which would've surprised pre-transition me! And I really love my community of queer people I've been building 🥺🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️💕
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(Picture taken July 21st, 2023)
Oh yeah!! I also started laser hair removal at the beginning of 2021 as well. Which was before this era but time is a lie. But the new job definitely made it easier to afford.
The biggest step for my transition was getting my surgeries set up!! And my FFS (facial feminization surgery) marks the end of this era. Below was the last picture I took before my FFS.
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(Picture taken Feb 17th, 2024)
So, in my next update, I'll be showing my post-op pictures once most of the swelling went down. See you tomorrow!! 😁✌️
Next Part Here
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aniesvision · 5 months
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𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥 (𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰 𝘹 𝘧! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)
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warnings: suggestive, implied sex, that's all I guess (tell me if I'm missing something)
a/n: hi! I'm posting this again because I wanted a new account just to post my fics and not just another blog with my main account (I don't know how to explain it but yeah) also, english is NOT my first language so if anything's wrong please correct me!!
synopsis: Chris accidentally sees his best friend naked.
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One thing I hate about getting ready at the Sturniolo's house is how bad they are in keeping things organized. And I don't mean clothes or anything like that, I mean they just don't say what they're gonna do next and that leads to me being naked on Chris's bathroom without knowing that he has no idea that I am here.
And, of course, he just opened the door.
-Shit, I'm sorry. -He apologizes, quickly closing the door and leaving me alone, paralyzed and speechless.
I close my eyes, trying to forget the embarrassing moment, putting on my outfit. It takes me a few minutes to get over it and finally leave the bathroom, the sound of the door being opened making Chris look up at me.
His cheeks were red, and probably so were mine. My first action was to adjust my skirt and giggle out of nervousness, my eyes now glued to my shoes.
-You can use the bathroom now. -I say, cutting the silence.
He just nods, making his way to his bathroom and locking himself inside. I sigh, annoyed with the situation, making my way to Nick's room to do my makeup and finish the final touches.
After making sure I was ready, I decided on waiting for them on the living room. We have a birthday party to attend, all of us being friends with the person for a long time, witch is why we decided on getting ready and going together.
I was mindlessly scrolling through TikTok when I feel someone sitting next to me. I look to my side, seeing a guilty Chris.
-I'm really sorry for earlier. -He runs a hand through his hair nervously and I give him a small understanding smile.
Even though I was nervous and embarrassed too, I didn't want to make things weirder, and it was so fast he'll probably forget about it by tomorrow anyways.
-It's fine. -I breath out, turning my head back to my phone.
We stay a few more seconds in silence, my brain just now processing that one of my closest friends saw me naked, and I couldn't help myself from joking about it.
-Hey, at least you've finally got the chance to see a girl naked, right? -I tease, nudging his shoulder playfully.
Chris rolls his eyes with a smirk on his lips, my laughter making him laugh as well.
-Shut up, whatever. -He mumbles, resting his head on the headboard of the couch.
Nick and Matt finally got ready and we all get into the car, hearing Chris yap all the way to the party. It doesn't take long for us to get there, and it was even faster for us to separate and move different ways. I walk to the bar, ordering a drink and taking a few sips before exploring the party.
I find my friends after a while, sticking with them and hearing them gossip about random people. When I feel the alcohol kicking in and making me less shy, I drag them to the dance floor with me, moving my body along the beat.
Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to enjoy it, since I've been dragged out of the saloon where the party was happening and trapped by a wall nearby, my eyes slowly recognizing Chris.
-What the fuck, I almost had a heart attack. -I raise one hand to my chest, taking deep breaths and looking around, confused on why we were here and why he wasn't saying anything at all.
-Okay, are you gonna explain or...? -I ask, looking at him.
He looked like he was fighting a battle in his head, not knowing exactly what to say, probably dragging me here with him by some sort of impulse.
-I... I don't know, I just... -He shakes his head, taking one step back.
-Are you okay? -I ask, tilting my head slightly, trying to figure out what was happening.
-I'm fine, I just... I think... -He hesitates, sighning and looking around nervously before making eye contact again. -You look pretty.
I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, giggling with his random compliment.
-Thanks, you look good too. -I smile, messing with his hair a little bit.
-No, I mean, I think you're really pretty. -He tries to explain, but it only makes me even more confused.
Chris notices my confusion and he starts tapping his feet rapidly, a bit anxious with what he was going to confess.
-I mean, I think your body looks great. -He says, making me laugh.
-Oh, so you think I'm hot? -I tease, his cheeks blushing.
-Alright, yeah, sure, you're hot.
We stay in silence for a few seconds, my smile never dropping as I studied him.
-You dragged me out of the party just to say that you think I'm hot? -I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, the cool breeze making me shiver.
-Not exactly. -He steps closer again, gently rubbing his hands up and down my arms to keep me warm.
-What else then? -I ask, seeing a small smirk on his lips.
-I think I want to kiss you. -He whispers, his eyes immediately dropping to my lips.
-What's stopping you from doing it? -I wrap my arms around his neck, his hands moving to my waist and squeezing it lightly.
-I don't want you to think I only want this because of what happened. I've been craving to kiss you for so long.
His words caught me by surprise, I've never noticed he wanted to kiss me. My only response was pulling him closer, showing him it was alright to do it. And he did. Our lips meet in a sweet kiss, that turns quickly into a heated and passionate one. His hands exploring my sides before stopping by my ass and squeezing it.
We were now just fully making out, but sadly we heard the door cracking open, making us separate. It wasn't the best place or moment to even think about anything that happened, so we walk into the party again.
Me and Chris didn't stop flirting with each other all night, but we didn't want to tell anyone about it, so it stayed in between us.
And now, a few months later, it's still our secret, but since that night we do a lot more than just kissing.
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call-me-strega · 3 months
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Batfam Prompt #4: Granddad Lore
Do y’all ever think Alfred just drops Dad Lore™️ out of nowhere?
Like, maybe Bruce and Jason are arguing about Red Hood’s past kills and Alfred makes a sassy remark “If we’re holding everyone accountable for murders they’ve committed under influence when can I expect my court date?” Stunning them both into silence. By the time they get their wits about them, Alfred has already moved on to cleaning the kitchen and refuses to elaborate.
Or seeing Dick and Tim returned to the cave after fighting Condiment King: covered in ketchup, looking like a murder scene, with pickles in places pickles should not be. And Alfred sighs and says “ Oh this mess reminds me of the summer of ‘95.” And when Tim and Dick go “wtf?” try to question him on it he just sprays them with the bat hose.
Or he watches Damien and Cass, trying to train Goliath the bat-dragon to roll over and says “Oh, yes, this reminds me of the pet lizard I had in my boyhood, Spike, who turned out to be a crocodile.” And then leaves before either of them can ask more.
Or visiting Babs at the library with Duke and Steph and he stops to talk to an old woman at the counter. And when he comes get back they tease him about having a lady friend. And he’s like “ Don’t be ridiculous. I met Judith during the Lavender Scare. Helped her ward off suspicion so that she could keep her job as a secretary to the senator without being harassed.” And then he wanders off to find a new cookbook, leaving the three gob smacked.
Or someone’s telling a story about a mission over dinner and Alfred goes. “Ah yes, Master Bruce that reminds me of the summer your father dragged me on a boys trip to Guatemala to search for the chupacabra. Although that trip was how we met your mother.” And he continues eating while everyone stares at him because this is a Lore drop with bonus Wayne Lore???!
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olivianyx · 6 months
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UPDATES ON MY JOURNEY
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Heyy all! I've been focusing on my senior professional medical year and it has been stressful. So here are some things I manifested effortlessly and a few things without me thinking about it. Long ass post ahead! ⚠️⚠️
1. Getting more pocket money than usual. Like my parents usually transact in my account like a $80 or $100 AUD per month. But in both feb and march this year, they transacted me $500 and $700 AUD! Plus! I occasionally find $10 or $50 cash in my classroom or on the streets sometimes (and they come lie next to my feet 😭) I'd ask everyone in my class if it's theirs, and they say no. What do y'all expect me to do? Like go and give it to the university management?? 😭 hell no, so i kept it lol.
2. MANIFESTED DIOR'S LIP OILS!! 😭😭 LIKE 5 OF THEM 😭 YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH I'VE OBSESSED WITH LIP OILS 😭😭 AND I WANTED THE RASPBERRY ONE SO BAD, AND GUESS WHAT? I MANIFESTED IT ALONG WITH 4 OTHER SHADESS OMGGG 😭😭😭
3. My crush giving me hints that she's obsessed with me 😭 like she literally told me 'you're so sweet and caring, I've never met a person like this after my grandma' cus her grandma passed away recently and she was so depressed. She even had an eye infection, so she stopped coming to the uni. So i had to make sure she's alright, and met her everyday cus she needed someone real bad. Like she needed to talk to someone and get that thing bothering her outta her head. I was there all along whatever she was going through (don't come at me y'all, ik if we help someone they would say all these things but she's my crush lol so) She's also getting real close to me, like she tells me how annoying people are lol. She loves skin ship, physical touch, being clingy around me, and complimenting me 😭😭 so these are the hints 😭 like friends wouldn't do that right? Would they?? (My friends diss me right in front of everyone 😶)
4. I've always been the type to care too much for the silliest things, nowadays I don't really put my energy into it and become all anxious. My anxiety levels have completely gone down like I'm literally cool asf?? Even while being in public?? Literally yess
5. Manifested getting my hair coloured next week! and my mom permitted me! For my cousin's engagement in april, I wanna be there like the hot younger sister I am lol. I just wanna make my relatives and their kids jealous cus they made fun of me when I was younger (my younger self has been dreaming for this moment) so why not a revenge glow up?? 😭
6. Losing weight even though I eat like a pig due to my study stress. Like literally I ate a 5 course meal one day and lost 2 kgs the next day? (cus I randomly checked my weight for 2 days cus I had to submit my height and weight to the university student records)
7. Getting a natural blush on my face! Like it's such a game changer, I look like a movie star y'all 😭✋🏻
8. My teachers complimenting me for my discipline and high scores. As yk uni professors don't even give af bout students and they complimented me??
9. Getting into a new friend group! My old one was too toxic and they would always bully me (verbally) my new friend group is literally soo damn enjoyable! Like they're the cool kids of the year 😭 and now I'm one too!
10. As I mentioned in my older post that I'm moving into an apartment. We moved in and it was too difficult for me to sleep as the place was new and also there we're disturbances in the night time like stomping noises or playing loud music at night. So the neighbors there were too sweet that they introduced and comforted us that it's okay and if something's bothering us they'll take care of it. And they literally made the people who we're causing those disturbances to vacate out 😭😭✋🏻
11. My hair getting shinier! It was brittle before as I was severely anemic, now my baby hair is back and it's shining ✨
12. I overheard my parents conversing that they should make me audition for an entertainment company....like what? 😭😭✋🏻 when I asked them once years back they denied giving me a 4 hour lecture and now they wanna make me audition?? Like literally 😭 y'all watch me at the Grammy's (after 5 years lol)
13. Getting into the void on command or intention.
14. I literally get free foods everywhere I go 😭😭
15. I got free gifts from my uncle who's living in France! He works at a fashion company and he sent me perfumes and a few outfits (I can't reveal it I'm sorry)
I ONLY WAS THINKING ABOUT GETTING MY LIP OIL, GETTING CLOSE TO MY CRUSH AND FOCUSING ON MY STUDIES. THE REST, I MANIFESTED WITHOUT THINKING ABOUT IT.
SO WHAT NEXT?
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I've decided to respawn to my waiting next month. I'm still scripting how my waiting room should be... So it might take time for me. So till then I'm gonna be strengthening my self concept even more, and also getting more and more excited to be in my waiting room! I want my waiting room to be like a more like a sci fi movie and a princess fairytale combined 😭 (ik I'm weird). Like I just want my favorite anime characters to be there to help me script my DR ✋🏻 So I'm kinda in a more excited mode lately to script my waiting room! Will give you updates on how my waiting room will be in a future post! So until then take care, love you, byeeee byeeee!
- olivia 🤍
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blackphillipdarling · 6 months
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Signs to tell if the person in your inbox, asking you to reblog a post with a link asking people to donate money for their sick pet or kid, is a scam
Before we start, a disclaimer that this is NOT a solid confirmation that this person must be a scammer. The intention of this is for you to be wary and always check before donating or rebloging this type of post.
Without further ado and from firsthand experience, here are the red flags:
The person in your inbox asking you to reblog a post with their donation link will always ask you NOT to publish the ask they sent you (but to only reblog their post), and their reasoning would always be something along the line of “I don’t want people to think I pressured you into doing it🥺”
But if you go to the person’s profile with their post asking for donation, 100% of the time, you’ll find that the account has only just been created days ago. — How can you tell this? Easy. You can literally scroll down to the first ever post of their blog in less than 10 seconds.
The thing these scammers have in common is that they will create a new blog and they WILL reblog some general posts, such as fandom posts, to make their blogs look legit. They will have legit profile pictures so they don’t look like bots. But it will always be a newly created blog with several reblogs (mostly about fandoms, because they know rebloging fandom posts will make them look more legit than if they were to reblog some suggestive photos of some women, since the latter will make them look like p0rn bots), and the only original post they made is that post asking for donation.
Move on to the information they provided about their sick pet or kid. They will provide thorough and detailed information to make it look legit. But the thing is that they could just take that from google or steal that information from someone who actually needed the donation. There is never a way to tell if your money will go directly to help save the pet or the kid. My advice is to google the patient’s name and see how old the case is, if the case of this patient with this name and this information has been used to ask for donation by other people before, etc.
The photo of the patient they gave can also help you determine if it’s legit. Save that photo and then use google image search to see if it’s an original photo or if it’s a stolen one that has been used before.
Bonus: the thing these scammers can’t do is provide updates about how the patient’s doing. So it’s only just one post with the link asking you for your money. If it is legit, you should be able to see consistent updates of how this patient is doing or if there’s any change, etc. (I’m not saying it’s a requirement for those whose loved one is in critical care to post updates on social media all the time, I’m simply pointing out that scammers tend to fail to provide any update because they can’t.)
I’ll always encourage donating and helping spread the posts of those who actually are in need, though it’s just so unfortunate that, while there are people who are genuinely struggling, there are a lot of scammers out there looking for an opportunity to take advantage of people’s kindness and using sick pet or kid as a way to scam people and making it more difficult for people who really need help to be taken seriously.
Last but not least, fuck those scammers. Stay safe y’all.
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adventuringblind · 7 months
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Every Step of the Way
Oscar Piastri x Reader x Logan Sargeant x Liam Lawson
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, sick fic
Summary: With a new diagnosis, sometimes things can be confusing and scary. Oscar, Liam, and Logan do their best to help make things as easy as possible.
Warnings: Authors limited knowledge of cancer and chemotherapy
Notes: To the requester, I hope this brings you some comfort. I understand the fear of a new diagnosis. It's a difficult things to navigate.
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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The appointment feels like it was years ago, yet she's still sitting in the office. The weight of the words sinking in, the new diagnosis still registering.
Cancer. The single word nobody wants to hear. It is a life changing thing that could pose to be fatal.
And right now, she feels alone. At the mercy of her own emotions. Her phone buzzing beside her, but her consciousness is too far away to notice it.
She hadn't been feeling well for some time. Oscar had suggested seeing a doctor, but she claimed allergies. She'll have to admit to him that he was right (again, as per usual).
The boys have been busy lately, off racing and traveling. She's been stuck home trying to get through all these appointments. The one time they are home, she wishes they weren't.
How is she supposed to tell them her body is trying to kill her? They have too much going on in their own lives right now to worry about her on top of it. The lovely anxiety she's been having over being a burden to her boys sets in once more.
She hates it. These dejected emotions want to escape from her via tears. Yet they don't come. They pool in her eyes instead, just on the cusp of sliding down her cheeks.
Her phone buzzes again. She looks at this time and sees the spam from Liam and Logan asking if she's been kidnapped or something. So much for not worrying them.
She drives him in silence. Only her thoughts to keep her company. The ones that tell her maybe she did something to deserve this. She thinks back to anything that could've cause this kind of karma.
She pulls into the driveway and tries to put a smile on her face as she walks through the door. "I'm home!"
Liam nearly tackles her to the floor as he scoops her up and tosses her onto the sofa. The one all three of the boys have turned into the perfect comfort spot with blankets and snacks and a movie already on the screen.
“Figured you might want some reprieve after your appointment.” Logan tosses a blanket over her.
“You don’t want to now the results?”
Oscar wraps an arm around her and tucks her close to his chest. “You were supposed to be home two hours ago. whatever it is, we can talk about it after you’ve had some time to wind down.”
She ends up falling asleep during the movie. the comforting presence of all three boys has her mind drifting off to somewhere that isn’t her own failing body.
She tries to soak up the normalcy of it all before things get worse. The voice in the back of her head is telling her that they won’t want her around when she’s too exhausted to do anything. when she starts draining their bank accounts because of all the medical bills.
The sleep she got was restless despite not waking up. They’d moved her to bed at some point. The cuddle pile and soft snores tell her it’s probably still early.
She maneuvers herself out of bed without waking the boys. A dance she’s done a thousand times before.
The glass of water is in her hands, but she doesn’t remember walking into the Kitchen. Everything is too much right now.
Her knees find the floor and the water spills everywhere. The glass shatters when she throws it in anger.
So much for not waking anyone.
Footsteps hastily make their way towards her. She can hear them whispering as they come around the corner and see the mess that she’s made.
“Love, I’m gonna come get you alright?” Strong arms wrap around her and bring her off the floor. She zones out listening to the song clatter of glass being picked up.
Back on the sofa again. The boys don’t push but she can tell they want answers. all three of them share nervous gazes.
“Cancer.”
She waits for anyone to say anything, to get angry and scream, maybe even cry. Instead she is hugged with such a gentle kind of love that she breaks. The tears don’t stop until she is dehydrated and choking.
“We’re not leaving you, alright? This diagnosis doesn’t stop us from loving you.”
The next week is torture. Getting ready for and starting chemotherapy is a nightmare.
It hurts, she’s sick, and the exhaustion makes everything worse.
But she also has people around her who love and care. They stick with her on the bad days and the worse days. they make the best out of the good days.
Oscar makes sure she sleeps, Logan makes sure she eats, and Liam tries to kidnap her when the other two get over protective.
It’s certainly a hard road. Some days are harder and she can barely function, but she’s trying.
Plus, it does help having people who love her around.
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memento-rory · 21 days
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✭ 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.
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✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and tyler keep meeting in unexpected places.
✭ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: erm tyler may be a lil ooc. 😗
✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~3k.
✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: cc!reader. i literally love this little freak, so i had to get more out for him. this fic is very silly, but tyler is a silly guy, so it works out. enjoy! 💚
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Roblox. Everyone and their mothers were playing it nowadays, and all of your social media, your text chat, your comment section were chock full of your fans pleading for you to finally start playing it yourself.
You’d seen a ton of videos of your friends playing it — specifically the Koury sisters — and it had always looked so fun. You reached out to Kalynn and Weston to see what servers they’d recommend, and they’d given you a list of all their favorites and what performed well, which was equally as important as you having fun since you were starting to get big.
You sat down at your desk, booting up Roblox. Once you created your account, you were immediately launched into the avatar customization. For a while, you debated picking the silliest options you could find, but you ended up creating an avatar that looked like a mini version of you with a cute little outfit that you’d wear irl.
You hopped into a couple different games, just getting a feel for the controls and how different servers work. After you decided you’d figured it out well enough, you started to film.
“Okay guys, you finally wore me down — today, we’re playing Roblox, and I’m about to find me a man.” You grinned mischievously at the camera, before clicking on a server called Neighbors, a 17+ server where you get paired up with strangers to chat in a little house.
You opened every conversation in the same way, saying, “I’m looking for a man. Tell me why you think it should be you.”
You found a couple people who made you laugh, bantering with them for a few minutes before moving on. All of it was going to make for really good content. You realized why everyone was playing Roblox. Shit was fun.
Your video was starting to push an hour without editing, probably about forty minutes with editing, so you decided to do one more round before calling it quits.
“Alright, y’all. It’s my last chance to find a man. Wish me luck.” You said, clicking ‘skip’ to move onto the next person.
You were matched with a user named Dr_Poop50. Their avatar was the standard Roblox avatar.
“Oh, this guy is giving me nothing to work with.” You told the camera.
“Okay, well, that’s rude.” A deep voice came from the user, and you covered your mouth as you realized you weren’t muted.
“Look, Dr. Poop, I’m trying to find me a man, and I’m sorry, but I’ve got nothing to go off of here.”
“Oh, damn! Okay!” He let out a little chuckle.
“Tell me why you think it should be you.”
“Well, I’m 6’7, for starters.”
“Meh.” You shrugged, sounding disinterested, but giggling at the offended sound he made at that.
“I’m really good at ping pong. How ‘bout that?”
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. I can’t be seen with someone who’s bad at ping pong.”
“I’m also rich, just by the way.”
“And you couldn’t even spare a couple bucks to customize your avatar? I’m supposed to believe you have money, looking like that?”
“Keep bullying me and I’m gonna fall in love with you.”
You muted your mic for just a moment. “Chat, we got him.” You grinned, before unmuting, “Do you wanna get Roblox married?”
“Fuck yeah. Can’t believe I have a new Roblox wife.”
“We’re gonna have soooo many Roblox babies.”
“I draw the line at babies. You’re gonna have to get a Roblox abortion.”
You clicked your tongue at that. “You can’t Roblox police Roblox women’s Roblox bodies.”
“Fine. Then I’m gonna get a Roblox lawyer and serve you Roblox divorce papers.”
“Good luck with that. How are you gonna get a Roblox lawyer with no Roblox money?”
“Shiiit.”
“You’re stuck with me forever, babe.”
“At least let me sign a Roblox pre-nup. Can’t let you take me for all I’m Roblox worth.”
“…Which, again, doesn’t seem to be a lot.”
He let out another laugh, the sound honestly kind of giving you butterflies. He had a nice voice. “Ouch, dude.”
Truthfully, this guy matched your energy so well that you didn’t really want to stop bantering with him, but your video was already too long.
“I can’t Roblox take this anymore. I’m taking the Roblox kids and moving to Roblox Montana and you’ll never Roblox see me again.”
“Nooooo!” The guy yelled quietly, and you left the game, giggling to yourself.
About two days later, you finally finished editing the video and uploaded it to your channel.
I Met My Ex-Husband on Roblox!
When you checked back in on it after a few hours, you realized the comments were flooded with several different versions of the same thing.
> writingsbyzuzu: (Y/N) AND HANSUMFELLA? my worlds are colliding
> bobthebuildersimp: no way you just met hansumfella and had no idea
> drfreaky: (y/n) met hansumfella and married him in a matter of minutes… what’s it like to live my Dream
Who is Hansumfella? You thought to yourself, your eyebrows furrowing, And why is everyone freaking out?
You had to figure this out, so as soon as you had some free time, you sat down and looked up Hansumfella on Youtube. Your eyebrows shot up as you noticed he had just uploaded a video, just moments before yours had gone up.
I Got Married AND Divorced in Roblox…
In the thumbnail was a screenshot of your avatar surrounded by hearts, with what you could only assume was Hansumfella’s face on the left. Christ. He was handsome as fuck. You supposed that’s why his username was what it was.
You clicked on the video, watching it all the way through. He’d met almost all the same people you had, including someone who lamented how they’d missed their chance with “some girl running this place like an episode of the Bachelor” to him.
Hansumfella commiserated with them, before addressing his audience. “We’re gonna find this girl and we’re gonna fuckin’ win the Bachelor.”
And find you, he did. It was kind of endearing to watch his perspective of the silly conversation the two of you had. He looked like he was genuinely having a good time, which made you feel even better about the whole interaction.
You scrolled down to his comments and they looked almost identical to yours.
> drfreaky: can’t believe you let (Y/N) go like that, man
> writingsbyzuzu: this is CRAZY how do you meet (Y/N) and not realize it’s (Y/N)!!!
> bobthebuildersimp: (Y/N) scored the bachelor of all bachelors
You wondered if Hansumfella read his comments, if maybe he was doing the same thing you were right now.
As if on cue, you received a notification from Twitter.
@HansumFellaLIVE has followed you!
You didn’t waste a second before following him back. Shortly after, another notification came in, this time letting you know that Hansumfella had tweeted at you.
@HansumFellaLIVE: @yourusername miss you wifey 😔
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you, immediately feeling the butterflies return to you. You sat for a second, wondering how to respond. Your viewers knew you to be pretty flirty (hence the Roblox Bachelor video), so you decided to play it up for your mutual audience.
@yourusername: @HansumFellaLIVE your kids miss their daddy… and so do i 😏
A week came and went, and you hadn’t heard anything else from Hansumfella — or Tyler, as you learned from his twitter account. It didn’t bother you, really. He was a stranger, just as much as you were. Meeting for five seconds on Roblox didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things.
Anyway, you needed to film your next video. With the news of Omegle potentially shutting down for good, you decided to return to it one final time for your viewers.
“Alright, guys, since my last relationship didn’t work out — RIP my marriage to Hansumfella — I’m on Omegle to give it one last shot.” You told your viewers.
As Omegle loaded up, you stared at the bar where you were meant to type in your interests. “What should I put? …TikTok, maybe?”
You did exactly that, and met only a handful of normal people, trying to flirt with people clearly of age, and asking for relationship advice from people who clearly weren’t. It was going really well, and you were just about to bring the video to a close, but realized you had time for one more interaction.
You couldn’t believe your eyes as the next person appeared on your screen.
Tyler was staring at you, his mouth agape, but he looked delighted. He pointed at you, and you mimicked his expression, pointing back at him.
“No fuckin’ way,” Tyler laughed, leaning back in his chair, “It’s my wife! How are you? How are the kids?”
“Oh, they’re just perfect,” You answered him sarcastically, playing into the bit, “They keep asking me when daddy’s coming back home from the store. I keep telling them there’s a milk shortage so it’s taking you a long ass time to find some.”
“Don’t blame this on me,” Tyler smiled at you, chuckling, “You’re the one that ran off to Roblox Montana. I was just trying to do right by y’all.”
“All I’m saying is that you should have fought for us.” You crossed your arms over your chest.
“You’re right, you’re right.” Tyler held his hands up in surrender. “What can I do to fix this?”
“Come home to us.”
Tyler clapped his hands together, nodding his head. “Daddy’s comin’ home.”
You couldn’t help it — you broke at that, letting out a cackle, which made Tyler start laughing too.
“This is fuckin’ nuts,” You shook your head in disbelief as your laughter died down. “No way I’m running into you randomly again. What are the odds?”
“I don’t know, but they seem to be in my favor.” Tyler grinned at you. You felt your cheeks heat up at his flirtatious statement, though you couldn’t be sure if he actually meant it or if he was just playing it up for the camera.
“My viewers are gonna eat this shit up.” You told him, letting out another laugh as you spoke.
“No, for real,” Tyler nodded, “Literally everyone has been all up in my shit asking if we were gonna start collabing.”
“Dude, same! My comment section, my twitch chat, my fuckin’ twitter mentions. It’s, like, all I see.”
“Maybe this’ll hold ‘em over until the next time we run into each other.” Tyler said, sitting up a little straighter, “If you do actually want to collab, I mean.”
“You wanna collab?” You asked, a little surprised. You weren’t expecting him to actually want to work with you past the silly bit between the two of you.
“Yeah, dude,” Tyler chuckled at your surprised expression. “You’re funny as fuck, and obviously we share an audience. Could be fun.”
“And good for your channel,” You teased, “You just wanna use me for my numbers,”
“Fuck, you got me.” Tyler released a heavy sigh, throwing his hands up in mock frustration.
“All good,” A mischievous grin spread across your face, “I just wanna use you for your numbers too.”
“I knew you were a gold digger, before I even Roblox married you, I knew it!” Tyler immediately got back into character, almost whisper yelling as he pointed an accusatory finger at his camera.
“Yeah, and what good did that do me?” You mimicked his actions, scowling at your camera, “Not a single cent in Roblox child support!”
You and Tyler dissolved into giggles again at your stupid bit. Once you’d calmed down again, you were about to tell him you needed to move on for the sake of your video, but he started asking you questions about yourself, so you indulged him. Every time there was a lull in the conversation — which wasn’t really all that often — he would start up another one, almost like he didn’t want to stop talking to you.
“Tyler,” You finally said, feigning disappointment at him, “You’ve completely ruined my video. I can’t put any of this out.”
“I know, I know,” Tyler held his hands up, smiling softly, “Guess I just like talking to you or whatever.” He made a big show of rolling his eyes, but that sweet smile stayed on his face.
Heat rose up in your cheeks again, and you shook your head, laughing a little. “We can keep talking, I’d just rather do it somewhere that isn’t Omegle.”
“That’s fair.” Tyler chuckled, nodding slowly. “Give me your phone number.”
Okay, direct. You liked that.
“Why, so you can post it and dox me?”
“Oh my Goddd,” Tyler groaned playfully, throwing his head back. He told you his number instead, and you put it in your phone.
“Tell the kids I miss them.” Tyler said wistfully as you geared up to end your recording and get off of Omegle.
“Tell ‘em yourself.” You spit out, disconnecting with a giggle.
You and Tyler ended up texting at almost all hours of the day for the next week or so. The two of you made a plan to post your Omegle videos at the same time, to maximize your joint slay, as Tyler had said.
Your video goes up with the title I Saw My Ex On Omegle?!
When you got the notification that he had posted his version, your eyes went wide at the title.
I Interviewed My Celebrity Crush on Omegle…
The thumbnail was a screenshot of you with all of your features blurred, but your room was clearly visible behind you, giving you away to anyone who was familiar with you.
You decided to sit down and watch his version, curious to see what he kept in and what he didn’t. Of course, the original bit made the cut, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched it back.
Tyler had kept a lot more in the video than you were expecting. A good portion of the conversation you’d had made it in, but it was mostly just questions he had asked you and answers you’d given him. It definitely played out like an interview, hence the title of his video.
You scrolled down to the comments, blushing as you read all of his viewers squealing over him calling you his celebrity crush. Obviously he was just playing it up for his audience, there was no way he had a crush on you for real, right?
The comments of your video looked almost exactly the same, asking you if you’d seen the title of his video or all caps statements about how much they loved the two of you together.
It wasn’t long before you got a text from Tyler to discuss the reception of your videos.
> from: tyler
>> Hey wifey
>> Looks like people are really fuckin with the new vid
>> Where should we bump into each other next?
You felt yourself grinning at the message, excited to potentially work with him again — strictly professionally, of course.
“Alright, y’all, we’ve got a real good stream lined up tonight.” You grinned, putting your headphones on. “I snagged an invite to the SDMP. Let’s go annoy all of your favorite creators.”
As soon as you spawned in to the SDMP, your chat erupted with demands to find different creators — though most of them were just demands to find Tyler — and you giggled at the scrolling text.
“Guys, calm down! I literally just got here. Let me get settled in!” You told your chat, as you wandered through the server, marveling at all the nice houses and builds.
As you wandered into the residential area, a familiar voice drifted into your ears.
“There she is!” Tyler said as he made his way over to you, “There’s my wife!”
You turned to look at him, eyeing your camera with fake annoyance before looking back at your screen. “Babe, where are the kids? It’s your weekend.”
“They’re fine.” Tyler answered, “They’re with the nanny.”
“I didn’t think you could afford a nanny.” You teased.
“I shelled out a little extra so I had someone to watch ‘em while I make things right with mommy.” Tyler replied, chuckling quietly. “Please, take me back. Let’s build a house together and live happily ever after.”
You muted your mic for just a second to say, “Chat, what do you think? Should I take him back?”
Hundreds of variations of YES! flooded your chat.
“I wanna live in a mansion.” You told Tyler, and his skin started to jump up and down in excitement.
“Fuck yeah,” Tyler laughed, “I’ll give you anything you want, wifey.”
“Let’s have another baby.”
“…Anything but that.”
You and Tyler spent hours gathering supplies and building a house together, just shooting the shit like you had been for days.
Truthfully, you had a hard time discerning what was actual flirting from him and what was being played up for his stream, but the longer you spent together, the more real it all felt.
When it started to get late, you decided to end your stream, but stayed on the server for just a little while longer before bed. Tyler had opted to do the same, mentioning he wasn’t quite ready to head to bed yet either.
“I forgot to tell you,” Tyler started offhandedly, “I’m gonna be in LA next week. I’d love to see you, if you’d be down to chill. You could show me your favorite lunch spot.”
You paused your building, your skin growing warm at the offer. “Like a date?” You chanced to ask, and you heard Tyler’s laughter in your ear.
“Yeah, like a date.” Tyler confirmed. “Unless you’re not into that. I just thought we were vibing, but I didn’t know if it was just for show or—”
“No, no, I’m super into that.” You interrupted, smiling.
“Fuck yeah,” Tyler breathed, “Because I’m super into you.”
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okwonyo · 1 year
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STAN TWITTER ﹒LEE HEESEUNG.
✸ SYNOPSIS !idols flirting with their fans during fan-signs is not something new, especially on stantwt. but you never thought it would happen to you.
or in which heeseung experienced love at first sight with you, made you gain a lot of followers AND haters and is now stalking your account on a daily basis.
staring﹒ leeheeseung + femreader genre﹒idol au && fluffy angst warnings ﹒ no proofread. && english isn't my first language wc ✢ 1,021. chapter title ❔when you know, you know. © ( okwonyo )
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it's a weird feeling, that keeps growing and growing in your chest from the moment heeseung comes pick you up at your flower shop to the moment you are both staring at the river in front of you. it out-grows your heart and threatens to make your rib cage explode.
as your hair moves with the wind, you keep wondering why hasn't heeseung said anything since you have arrived there. you turn your head to him, focusing your whole attention on his side profile. he seems calm, even if you know he is nervous. you don't know how, but you know.
you stare at him for a while before he finally speaks to you, "stop looking at me like that," he tells you, his voice sounds as beautiful as he sounds when he sings, "it's driving me crazy."
then the feeling in your chest, finally explodes. in a good way, in a way that fills your body with warmth and joy. it's heeseung's voice. it's his voice that makes you feel like that. and you can't help but smile at that fact.
of course, he smiles too when he sees you doing so. you both watch each other, both biting back the big smile that threatens to appear on you face. and you don't know if it's the ridiculousness of the situation or the way heeseung looks at that moment, but you ends up laughing like an idiot. a simple, light hearted and loud laugh.
"are you─" he starts, unable to finish and completely drowning in your laugh. "are you making fun of me?"
you nod, humming. you end up laughing even more when you try to explain why, heeseung soon follows. and you are both laughing with the running water as a backtrack.
the more your laugh fades away, the more you can feel heeseung's insistant gaze burning through your skin. when your eyes lock, it is as if it opened a magical bridge, from his heart to yours, allowing you feel everything he is feeling at the moment. telepathy grows as love does.
thus, birthing a knot in your stomach, you never liked feeling those kind of feelings and especially when you know there will never be anything coming out of it. so you ask, "what are you doing?"
"looking at you." he responds, but not without adding a little grin to it.
"no, i mean," you start and stops right away, taking a deep breath. it feels as if you already know the answer to whatever you are going to ask, "what are you doing with me? what do you want from me?"
heeseung shrugs, "to be completely honest, nothing but your presence."
you groan, he has that capacity of making your decisions ten times harder to make, "no but like seriously, what do you find so special about me? are you seriously going to tell me that you saw me and immediately fell for me and felt like we were soulmates are something?"
your stomach is the one to ache first after saying this sentence, not because it isn't true but because of feels like you think that heeseung is a liar, which is no where near what you actually think. then your heart starts to ache too, heeseung's silence saying his answer instead of his words.
"heeseung," you say his name as you would say a prayer. "i do not believe in given soulmates nor at in love at first sight."
"is this the reason why you don't want to give us a chance? because you don't believe in soulmates?"
"i do believe in soulmates, i just think that they are made not found." you state.
"well maybe we could be soulmates if you have me a single chance." he argues, the way he sounds makes you understand that heeseung wants you, in a quite simple desperate and human way.
"there are plenty of girls like me out there. and i will not let you fuck up your whole career just because you thought i was something that i am not." you fight back, against you own mind and emotions. you know you'll resent yourself for the rest of your life. "you will find, a million of girls like me on this planet, that would most definitely kill me if they knew what i was doing right now---"
heeseung, in front of you, fights too and has the same opponents as you do, you mind and emotions. "what? what are you doing?"
your breath is stuck in your throat for moment, before you finally breath out, "i am rejecting you." ─ you try to convince yourself that you are doing a brave thing.
"you are a dream come true to a lot of people and ─ believe it or not ─ even to me. and you deserve the best of the best." you just don't get, why rejected someone that you don't even know hurts that much. "listen we are still young, we have plenty of time ahead of us."
the most devastating thing about all this story, is that what heeseung felt when he met you, you felt it too. "i am sorry, for doing this to you. i am not what you make me out to be and i can't be what you want me to be. even if i desperately want to, i am not what you need."
when you finish your pathetic and sad monologue, you are still standing in front of heeseung and something in the universe broke. both on the verge of tears, you stare at each other for a long time. a butterfly passes, some tears finally drop and the world doesn't stop.
you gaze falls on his hand, which is hanging on his side. you internally debate if you should take it or not. there is a feeling in your hand, the same feeling magnets must feel towards each toe her. as if the universe wants you to take it.
but you won't let the universe choose for you. you won't let the only thing that belongs to you being played by any kind of divinity. you leave ─ fate, heeseung and whatever this little story was, behind you.
your love is yours to keep.
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IMPORTANT ❗️ this is the end of stan twitter 1, however stan twitter 2 is in the works. so the story continues ! i promise it's a happy ending this time >< also ik my writing is meh but pls... i'm a star....
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