#but the same people who were hating on them are now praising them
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Can I ask for a littlebit sibling bonding dami-tim? 🥺 I've looked a lot and can't find anything I haven't already read 😢
Hmm.... I'm assuming you'd like a little piece of writing? It's not fluffy in the slightest, but here ya go!
Tw: auditory descriptions of torture, blood, pain, violence
Hurt/comfort, BAMF Tim, angst
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Damian's family is full of fools. They are competent, skilled fighters and master tacticians. Each one is a superior detective and powerful leader in their own right.
Yet, they are, undoubtedly, fools.
If each of them were asked who of the family is the largest threat, they would answer wrong. They would praise Cass's unfathomable combat prowess, the unending reach of Oracle, the terror Red Hood brings, Batman's plethora of contingency plans, or the charismatic destruction of Dick. To them, these members would be the top contenders.
Damian is not indicating that these family members wouldn't be formidable. He's not even saying they are unworthy to be wary of. No. Only a fucking idiot would dismiss the very real peril of these vigilantes.
The issue lies in how obvious they are. Everyone knows to especially prepare defenses against them. They are terrifying as opponents and ruthless when provoked. All Bats are.
However, Damian knows, as he has always known, that none of them are a threat in the way that Timothy Drake is.
Drake isn't physically imposing nor is he well-known for his ability to decimate his enemies from afar. He's a Bat and he's competent, but he usually upholds a supporting role. He fades to the background and hides in the shadows of his predecessors. He doesn't alarm people nor automatically register as the most dangerous person of the Bats. He can completely decimate his opponents, but he's overlooked in comparison to the others.
It's why he terrifies Damian.
Red Robin is a disregarded, unseen hazard. He meticulously and carefully hides his culpability and capabilities even from allies. He's vicious and cruel, a liar, a con man, and a thief.
And yet he's selfless and kind. He's caring.
He's a complicated headache of a man.
It's been... rough trying to ignore Damian's initial assertion of Drake. The problem lies in the fact that it's not wrong. Red Robin is conniving. Drake could easily make Damian disappear without a single Bat suspecting otherwise.
Trusting Drake is the same as handing Red a sword and knowingly turning his back to him. It's idiotic. And it's expected of the youngest brother.
For years, neither Damian nor Tim could get past this hurdle, this mutual distrust. It simmered between them as they recognized the monster of themselves in the other's eyes. They were similar enough to know better than their family members. To know better than to put aside their fued.
But it started to shift.
Damian can't point to when he stopped wearing weapons around Drake's presence, only that Drake lacked his as well.
Red became a bit more brutal against the goons who hurt Robin, and Robin was callous to those who managed a hit on Red.
One by one, the children who used to bother Damian at school either became passive or they moved. One by one, fewer Gotham socialites whispered scandalous rumors about Timothy Drake.
Titus and Alfred the Cat received gifts and treats left in Damian's room. Drake's apartment walls received a mural.
Damian became Dames. Drake became Timothy.
They still snarled and snipped and wrestled and attacked each other. They couldn't hold a conversation without either one blowing up in anger. They never acknowledged the changes. They didn't seek out each other's presence.
But it continued. Damian now only grumbles when Timothy ruffles his hair. Tim moved an extra desk into his office if Damian wanted to work on WE or school. Tim finds truly abhorrent charcoal portraits of himself, and Damian finds his gifted drawing in picture frames.
They don't like each other and they won't admit to caring about their brother. They just, maybe quite possibly, don't hate the other anymore.
While the Waynes are disappointed the two don't get along, they have noticed the shift. It's enough for the family that the two no longer wish each other harm. After everything, that's fine.
This is why Damian's scream comes as such a shock to everyone but Tim.
It's been an hour. An hour since Robin was captured, his GPS was scrambled, and his com was left untouched. An hour of the entire family desperately scouring the city for their youngest bat.
Thirty-seven minutes ago, Damian woke up.
The Bats were forced to listen to him acknowledge his kidnappers and the sound of flesh being hit as of thirty-four minutes ago.
Damian's ability to muffle his own grunts of pain broke down seventeen minutes prior. He started screaming twelve minutes ago.
Eleven seconds ago, with a voice gritty from the hollering and blood, Damian allowed those who captured him to know they left his com in place. He finally addressed one of the Bats while in the kidnappers' presence.
With a tone threaded with pain, with a slight sob, Damian begs, "Timothy. Please."
All of the Bats but one turn to each other in confusion. In their momentary bewilderment, Red Robin disappears.
Tim was barely holding onto his control. He was trying to continuously remind himself why he operates the way Batman prefers. His grip on his restraint was slipping with every whimper, cry, and shout from his baby brother. Tim was going to function Bruce's way. He was.
Swallowing down his wrath, his uselessness, his grief, and his frustration is a well-known habit. Red knows how to choke down his own feelings and desires in his pursuit of "the greater good." He's aware that Bruce's path, as flawed as it is, is better than the one Tim instinctively knows. The Batman way prevents the type of future that Red is constantly trying to prevent of himself.
So, even though the sounds of Damian's torment is riping into Tim's own mind, Red was going to go about it Bruce's way.
But then Damian asked.
There's nothing in this world, in this fuckkng universe, that could prevent Tim from answering his baby brother.
The Bats couldn't hear the threads snapping from Tim's control, but Tim could. Damian, from wherever he was, could as well.
Between the blood pouring from Robin's nose and forehead, a cruel and wicked smile carved into his face.
Timothy, not Red Robin, was coming for those who harmed his brother. They will not escape. They will not survive past today.
#tim drake#damian wayne#thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au#dc ficlet#their relationship is... crunchy in this?
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everyone now saying that they preferred 13s seasons just goes to show people always hate on the new thing. mark my words next year people will be saying they miss this season
this has always been a thing w doctor who they literally had twelves first episode talk about it, people never like the newest season
#don’t get me wrong i’m not shitting on 13s seasons#i enjoyed them#but the same people who were hating on them are now praising them#bc people always hate the new thing and i just don’t get it#doctor who#dr who#15th doctor#13th doctor#12th doctor#dw#empire of death
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Good Luck Babe
poly!marauders x nerd!female!reader
summary: after being a wallflower throughout your first five years at hogwarts, you always thought that you could be invisible. but when you hear the marauders talking cruelly about you and proceeding to ask for your forgiveness after, well good luck babe.
warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, reader wants to kill the marauders , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy
a/n: oh hey... this is kinda based on those cliche 2000's movies where the girl is ugly but not really and she has that glow up or whatever. this was written so quick and not proofread, don't kill me. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!
STARTING off your sixth year at Hogwarts being an entirely new person wasn't something that you had planned or expected.
On the inside, you felt exactly the same, the same girl who was bold and could ferociously win a fight when it came to her character.
The same girl who was witty and sarcastic, surprising half of the people around you when you made a joke once in a lifetime.
But on the outside, you didn't have an awkward mis-shaped bob and you no longer wore baggy jackets that didn't do a thing for your figure.
And you didn't hide your face anymore, trying your best to be invisible.
It wasn't that you were shy or that you felt like a loser but you thought social hierarchy was bullshit and the only thing you wanted to focus on was your studies.
You may have been a brave Gryffindor on the inside but on the outside, you had to play the part of a shy mouse as corny as that sounds.
Unfortunately for you, invisibility only tends to last for so long until one moment, you are a nobody and then all eyes are upon you.
And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't heard the Marauders discussing you the previous year, you would have stayed the same.
You had passed by the boys dormitory to give Remus his textbooks back as you always did when you let you borrow when you heard them speaking of the very person behind the door,
"I still have yet to understand why Lily and the rest of them act like she's some charity case," James huffed, "I mean, she's not some sick patient, they only feel the need to pity her because of how she looks."
You always knew that James had a foul mouth but to be speaking about someone like this, it was cruel.
Remus hissed, "That's not nice Prongs,"
"I'm not even saying it to be a dick!" James groaned, "I just mean, I pity her more for the fact that they don't even invite her to anything outside of breakfast and dinner," He explained, causing Remus to go silent.
Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "That's absolutely horrid."
James reclined on his bed, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m just saying, if I were Y/N, I’d be mortified."
Your eyes widened as they began to water, they were speaking about you.
Remus leaned against the wall, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with Lily and the others."
"Moony, seriously," James shot back, sitting up. "Where is Y/N right now, and where are the other girls?" His eyebrow cocked, trying to make his point as Remus silenced.
Sirius raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Why don’t we investigate for ourselves?" He unfolded the Marauder's Map with a flourish. "Alright, we’ve got Lily, Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene all at Hogsmeade, but Y/N is..." His voice trailed off, eyes narrowing.
James leaned closer, annoyance creeping into his tone as he grabbed the map, "She's-" He stopped, the color fading from his face.
"Fucking spit it out!" Remus said next as he snatched the map finally and saw that the map had shown that you were right outside their door.
"Shit!" You heard Remus say as he started making his way to the door.
Hearing his footsteps approaching, you quickly moved away from the door, bolting for your room.
Once you made it back to your dorm, you had sinked the floor. You put your hand on your mouth, muffling yourself as you cried silently.
You honestly hated to even say it but you did consider Lily and the rest of them your friends. You had never really thought about how they didn't invite you to places.
And if you were being truthful, they had never asked you to have breakfast or dinner with them.
You had always just assumed that you could join but they never told you to leave or swooshed you off. Another part of you hated how stupid you were, trying to intrude on their private time.
You didn't want to let it get to you what a bunch of seventeen year old boys were saying but it did sting horribly.
But in a way, it also motivated you to be who you were on the inside. You already had the top marks in your entire year and your plan to work in the Ministry after Hogwarts had already been set.
And now your chance to be something at Hogwarts was right in front of you, an opportunity that you couldn't miss.
You had to do it for yourself.
The Marauders had no idea who you truly were or even cared to know. And although Remus was kind to you, you could always see that he never made any effort to be your friend.
Not that you expected him to but it only taught you that they truly thought you were some hopeless case.
And an assignment to make the Marauders bite their tongues was one that you couldn't bare to fail.
After hearing that, you decided to avoid the Marauders for the next month, especially with summer break approaching. To your surprise, you barely saw them outside of classes, never giving them a chance to reach out—even Remus.
And then that summer, everything changed. You let your hair grow past your shoulders, embracing your natural curls instead of straightening them. You started wearing clothes that were trendy and form-fitting, a huge contrast to your old style.
You discovered a newfound love for self-care, enjoying the process far more than you expected. Each day felt like a transformation, and by the end of summer, your mother couldn’t help but notice. “Finally listening to me about your style, huh?” she teased.
You only laughed as you embraced her,
If only she knew what had caused it in the first place.
As you said goodbye to your family, anticipation mingled with dread. You knew the train ride would be the least of your worries, but the welcome dinner and the ceremony ahead felt like they might just be hell reincarnate.
As you entered Hogwarts, you admired it as much as you did when you were a first year. The castle was something you considered a second home and everything about it was magical, there was no doubting that.
A crowd of students, including yourself, moved toward the Great Hall, and you settled into your usual seat at the Gryffindor table.
You spotted the Marauders and the usual group of girls approaching, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They took their usual spots in front of you, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. James sat beside you, and Lily was directly in front of him.
You never quite understood why they arranged themselves like that, but it hardly mattered in the moment.
They were busy in conversation before James had noticed someone next to him, his eyes widening. You couldn't quite read his face but it seemed like a mix of confusion and flustered.
You stared at him back but he still had yet to mutter a word. You cleared your throat, "Uh hello," You practically whispered.
He snapped back into reality, "Oh sorry, hi," He muttered back.
Silence took over you both as James couldn't find the words of what to say to you.
On one hand, he wanted to call you beautiful, to tell you that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. On the other, he just wanted to stare at you for a few more minutes like a creep.
Lily noticed his gaze and leaned in, smirking. "Excuse my friend; we’re still trying to figure out if he has a brain."
"I thought we solved that decades ago," Marlene chimed in, stifling a laugh.
Lily turned to you with a curious smile. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. What’s your name?"
Are you actually fucking kidding me?
You scoffed, "I'm Y/N,"
The entire group looked at you in awe, even the ones who weren't chimed in on the conversation.
"Y/N L/N?" Sirius asked, mouth gaping.
"Yep, that one," You snorted.
They all looked like they had seen a ghost, "You look different," Marlene said as Mary shoved her.
"She means in a good way!" Mary added.
"Uh thanks," You said, awkwardly.
They all continued to stare at you like you were an exhibit in a museum, their eyes scanning you up and down.
"Do you all mind not staring at me?" you asked, trying to break the tension. They all looked away, feigning innocence as they muttered apologies.
"How have you been?" Lily asked, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness.
"Fine," you replied, your tone clipped.
You caught the pained expressions on the Marauders' faces, realizing they were the reason for your dismissive attitude.
"That's great," Lily said, forcing a smile.
You felt a wave of frustration at the awkwardness surrouding you and decided it was time to escape. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announced, heading toward the exit before they could respond.
As you walked away, you could already here the mutters and whispers emerging from the table, the fascinating topic being you.
You paced as you heard footsteps trailing behind you, but you ignored them, letting your gaze wander around the castle.
"Y/N!" someone called out, startling you.
You turned to see Sirius, James, and Remus hurrying after you. You only let out a snort before continuing your same way.
A hand suddenly reached around your forearm as you turned to see Remus. You quickly snatched your hand away, finally stopping to look at the group of boys who you despised.
Crossing your arms, you shot them a hostile look. "What?"
"We just wanna—"
"We're so—"
"Listen, we just—"
They all spoke at once, but you scoffed and turned back toward the bathroom, starting to walk away.
You were hoping that they would realize you wanted nothing to do with them but instead, it only made them want to chase you more.
They quickened their pace, and you spun around sharply. "For fuck's sake, what do you want?" you snapped.
James took a breath, his expression earnest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I've been thinking about it since you left. I was an awful twat, and you didn't deserve a thing of what I said."
You let out a sarcastic laugh, "Are you serious?" You asked as your expression changed to furious, "You basically called me a loser and said that Lily and the rest of them were only hanging out with me out of pity,"
James hissed as your statement, feeling the razor in your voice.
"-And now you all want to act as if I should just forgive you since I don't look the same anymore," You got closer to James's face, "Fuck off."
You turned your heel again and this time, the boys didn't follow you.
You finally entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you struggled to read the expression on your face. You were furious at the Marauders, and the idea of forgiving them felt impossible.
Yet, there was a flicker of gratitude that you felt for the change you’d undergone. You’d gained a new confidence that felt good, but the sting of their cruel words still lingered in your mind.
And you knew that you couldn't let it get to you but knowing they thought that of you, even Remus. It still did things to you that you would never admit out loud.
Snapping out of your thoughts, you realized it was almost time to head to the dormitory.
The rest of the night had flown by, with first years being introduced to their new home for the next six years while everyone else relaxed in the common room. Despite curfews, fifth years and above knew they could hang out longer—the curfew was mostly for the first years anyway.
"Caput Draconis," you muttered, and the Fat Lady nodded, granting you entrance.
Stepping into the common room, your heart sank as you spotted the last group you wanted to see. They noticed you just as quickly, encouraging you to pick up your pace toward the dorm.
"Hey, Y/N!" Dorcas called out, making you wince as you turned to see her waving.
The Marauders looked down, shame etched on their faces, avoiding your gaze as if you were Medusa.
You approached them slowly, dread settling in your stomach as they eyed you like a science project.
"We were just about to play a fun little game," Dorcas said enticingly, while Marlene snorted beside her.
"I don’t know if Spin the Bottle is a great idea for the first night back," Marlene added, taking a sip of her beer.
"A little peck never hurt anyone," Lily chimed in, clapping her hands together.
Of all people, you’d never expect Lily Evans to approve such a thing. This was the same girl who nearly fainted when she heard about Marlene and Dorcas kissing the previous year.
"I don’t know if this is the game for me," you replied, eyeing the group warily.
"Of course it is!" Lily insisted, but you raised an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh! Not like that, I just mean it's a fun game for us all to play," she quickly added, looking flustered.
Part of you wanted to say no and retreat to your bed, but that was the old you, and you knew it wouldn’t help. This was a new year, and you were determined to embrace new experiences.
Besides, you’d never participated in any scandalous games for all of the years you've been at Hogwarts—it felt like a crime in itself.
So, after a moment’s hesitation, you said, "Okay, sure." The girls erupted in cheers, while the Marauders exchanged worried glances.
What if you had to kiss one of them? Would you refuse and create a scene? Would you want to strangle them for even suggesting it?
The possibilities raced through their mind, but there was no turning back as everyone began to form a circle.
As you sat in the circle, a shiver of nervousness enveloped you. You had never kissed anyone before and the whole thought made you nervous within itself.
Don't get it wrong, you've had chances but they never seemed right and you certainly weren't kissing Matthew Trunchbull underneath the bleachers of the Quidditch field.
So when you got offered a shot of firewhiskey to cool your nerves by Marlene, you took it happily as it burned down your throat.
You brushed off all the negative thoughts entering your mind,
What really is the worst thing that could happen?
#marauders era#james potter#hp#hogwarts#harry potter#singmyaubade#remus lupin#sirius black#tw mature#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#james potter x reader#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#marauders x reader#poly!marauders x sub!reader#poly!marauders x girlfriend!reader#poly!marauders smut#smut#harry potter imagines#remus lupin fluff#james potter smut#sirius black x james potter#remus lupin x james potter#daddy!remus#daddy!sirius#sub!reader#marauders#james potter x y/n
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Unfortunately we’ve tried repeatedly to no avail.
The Bundists had the same argument against Zionism. They fully supported the USSR, integrated into it, and sacrificed huge portions of their Jewish culture and community. They were forbidden from speaking Hebrew, practicing Judaism, and everything in between because it was labeled Zionism and Zionism was an enemy of the state ideology. It was the dual loyalty canard.
Bundists betrayed other Jews who did practice, resulting in many of them being labeled as enemies and killed. When the Soviet government determined that their usefulness was done they then did the same to them.
That’s the most extreme example of integration and assimilation with government “protections” and “security” for Jews to be Jews. It was a lie.
Then you get into the Middle Eastern countries where Jews were dhimmis. Second class citizens with limited rights whom could be harmed at the whim of those above them.
In the USA our antisemitism was so prevalent and overt that Nazis praised it. Yes, post WW2 is sort of became hidden and cryptic, but it was always there. And now? It’s bad. Really bad. Like, firebombing synagogues bad. Like, assaulting random Jewish people in the street bad.
And here’s the thing, we have government protections here in the USA. But they do very little when the response to the protection is reactionary. It’s not proactive. So those assaults and molotovs don’t get more than an investigation and maybe labeled a hate crime.
Maybe.
Because antisemitism is so prevalent that prosecutors and governments would rather not label it as an antisemitic hate crime that actually call it what it is.
We are such a small population that we can’t really hold governments accountable for their refusal to act or even label something what it is.
This also precludes the fact that even with protections it doesn’t stop antisemitic conspiracy theory from being prevalent throughout goyische society. It doesn’t stop it from fomenting and spreading to the point where Jews stop reporting it because it’s so abundant that we’re just told “we’re crying wolf” and/or “using antisemitism to curtail criticism”.
The protections do not stop the rest of society from harming us for simply being Jewish because we are the outlier minority.
An actual Jewish country where it’s normal to be Jewish and not an outlier, where Jewish conspiracy theory does not form the basis of everyone’s perceptions is actually much safer. It always will be.
This conversation gets had every time global antisemitism and violent Jew hate occurs. And it’ll keep happening because ideally we’d love to be accepted for who we are and allowed to just exist. But it predates Israel, so laying it at the feet of Israel and Zionism is just a rehashing of an old conversation with new clothes.
The reason i am not a zionist is because i am jewish. I dont want one jewish state, one jewish country, one place to be safe, feel safe.
I want to be able to freely live my life WHEREVER I WANT without fear. I dont want a new place to be created (especially if that place is only safe for me/people like me), i want the places that exist to ACCEPT ME, tolerate me and love me. Not because of my religion. Why do so many Jews want to “settle” for one safe country for us. Why not make our governments actually protect our rights as individuals, along with our religious rights.
And I understand for many jews that zionism feels like its the only way to be safe but PLEASE at least think about WHY that is. I am willing to hear people out on this and talk about this please be civil to me
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Why Didn’t You Tell Me?
it has been SO long... i was suffering from serious writers block but it think i'm finally out of it :)
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: Spencer Reid used to be your best friend, but things changed. How long can you pretend that you don't love him before it ruins you?
warnings: angst! (with a happy ending), smut (unprotected piv), character loss, mention of Maeve, very sad Spencer, mental health struggles, drinking/bar scene, light choking, fighting, slight praise kink
wc: 8.8k 🤗
i’m very proud of this one! i hope you love it!
Every morning when you wake up, you feel a familiar and creeping sort of dread in the pit of your stomach.
Don’t get the wrong idea; you love your job. You love helping people and stopping horrible people from ruining any more lives, but the creeping feeling and desire to get out is always in the corner of your mind. Anyone working in this field would tell you that. There’s no absolute separation between you and the victims and their families. You take all of them home with you, and you just have to learn how to deal with that and not let it eat at you.
It doesn’t help that it’s an isolating job as well. The last time you were in a serious relationship was in college. Now, every date you have ends in disappointment. Not only do you lack interest in most of the men and women, but it couldn’t go anywhere even if you did. 75% of your time is spent in the office, on a jet, or hundreds of miles away from your home.
All of this contributes to the feeling, but the worst part of your job is Dr. Spencer Reid.
He’s secretive and dismissive and just about the most attractive person you’d ever seen. You honestly don’t know what is worse: his constant physical presence in your life or the fact that you can’t stop thinking about him no matter what you do. You’ve tried to get over it; you’ve buried yourself in work, lamented to your friends, and gone out on dates (all with guys that looked vaguely similar), but nothing has worked. All his worst traits grate your nerves and light you up at the same time.
The worst part of it all is that it wasn’t always like this. When you first joined the BAU nearly two years ago, you and Spencer got along well. You were friends, he talked to you about his life, he understood you, and you really severely fell for him. He became your best friend.
Everything changed around six months ago. Spencer started to develop migraines, and as those developed, he started distancing himself from you. He became snippy and closed off, he started hiding things from you, and he stopped talking to you about life outside of Quantico. It was like overnight, you became nothing to him, and you really didn’t understand. Everyone else on the team got the same old Spencer, but you went from his right-hand man to someone he only spoke to when it was necessary.
Maybe he didn’t deserve to be vilified. You know, realistically, he can and should be able to decide who he wants to be close to, but working with a man who unknowingly broke your heart was close to the hardest thing you’d ever done. So, you decided hating him was easier. The real emotions you feel toward him sit somewhere inside you, but they have been covered by manufactured distaste. Addressing the actual feeling would hurt too bad, so you pretend to hate the things you used to love.
Nothing, however, could have prepared you for the last case you worked on: helping Spencer save a girl he met about six months ago, a girl he loved. You tried to stay collected, you said nothing when Spencer assisted when he shouldn’t have, and goddamn, did you do everything in your power to find that girl. Maeve. She was perfect for Spencer, and you saw that immediately. Everyone did. The sight of him sobbing in front of her body is one that will never leave your mind.
Now, two weeks later, no one has heard from Reid. The only indication that he hasn’t abandoned his life altogether is the absence of the gift baskets on his doorstep that Pen leaves daily.
Nearly everyone has been to his apartment, but they are met with a closed door and have yet to receive a response. Everyone but you.
Penelope is the first to bring up your lack of appearance at the end of a long day of paperwork.
“Y/n, please, you just have to try. No one is getting anything from him.”
“I really don’t think my presence would do any good,” you pause for a moment, trying to collect the thoughts running through your head like a freight train. “Me and him haven’t been close in a long time, Pen.”
Before you can continue, she cuts in, “Everyone has tried, Y/n. Hell, I’ve even considered tracking down Gideon, and I really, really do not want to do that.”
She pauses for a moment before looking up at you with a pout on her face, “Please, Y/n, for me. I can’t bear the thought of him in there all alone, just wasting away in grief.”
For someone who claims not to be a profiler, Penelope knew exactly what to say to get you to agree. She’s the only person in your life who you told about how you felt, though you’re sure everyone else (aside from Spencer) knew: you’re shit at keeping secrets.
“Okay, okay, I’ll try.”
She nearly bursts with excitement, “Thank God-“
You cut her off before she can finish, “But I’m telling you, I’m not the person he wants to hear from right now. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“Yes, yes. I just want him to know we all want him to be okay.”
Before you can hurry out of the office to follow Pen’s instructions, she stops you and hands you a basket full of assorted snacks and fruits.
“Make sure he eats!”
The walk up to Spencer’s apartment is a hard one to take. The smell of his building hits you as soon as you step into the lobby. From there, everything rushes back at once. Memories of nights you spent watching reruns of Doctor Who or listening to him prattle off about whatever he last read assault you with every step. As you slowly make your way up, you start to question why you agreed to do this in the first place.
You feel a lot toward Reid. More than you should and less than you could. But all that care and feelings that are so close to love aren’t enough to make you forget why you’ve been trying to hate him for so long. He deserted you without an explanation and cut you off without a warning. You spent weeks (three months) crying over him like a love-struck teen. So, as much as you want to hold him and comfort him, you know it’ll hurt you to do so. Penelope sent you, with the whole team’s approval, you’re sure, to try to patch up a broken heart he got loving someone else. There’s a sickness in your gut, but it’s not enough to stop you from rapping your knuckles against his door.
“Spencer? It’s Y/n.”
There’s no response.
“I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now, but I want to make sure you’re alright. Can you tell me you’re alright?”
Again, nothing.
You know he’s there. Despite your lack of communication, you know Spencer well enough to know that he would never leave his life behind entirely. That being said, your next few attempts at garnering a response are unsuccessful.
You decide to try one final time before just leaving the basket alone on his doorstep and texting Pen it was a bust.
“There’s a lot I don’t know about you now, and I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling.”
You don’t exactly know where this is headed, but you continue on regardless.
“I know you’re in there, and I know you can hear me, and I know you’re hurting. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you to be alone right now, Spence. You can either unlock your door, or I can pick it, but I’m coming in one way or the other. You know I will.”
You wouldn’t, actually. It’s a last-ditch effort, and it’s met with the same silence you’ve heard on the other side for the past ten minutes. You’re about to turn to head back down the stairs when you hear the very faint sound of a deadbolt turning.
There’s no other sound or movement, and for a moment, you think you might’ve imagined the sound, but you try the handle anyway. It turns, and the door slides open. You take a step in.
“Spencer,” you call out to him.
You don’t see him at first in the mess of his apartment, but when you do, you feel a crack form in your heart.
Beyond the clutter of his entryway, you see his back on the couch. His frame looks smaller than you’ve ever seen it, and you can see his legs curled into his chest. You set down the gift basket by a collection of others on the entry table and walk over to him. Slowly, like you’re trying not to spook a lost dog, you creep in front of him.
His head is down, and his gaze stays trained on his knees.
You reach out your hand and lay it over his. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.
“Spence, I’m so glad you opened the door.”
You didn’t plan out what you would say, but ‘sorry’ feels redundant and useless.
You go on, “I’m here. I- I don’t know what to do or say, and I’m sorry that I don’t. I can get someone else for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”
You wait for him to say he wants Penelope or JJ, but it doesn’t come. Nothing comes. You start to move to get up, figuring you could clean up a bit and try to make him something to eat, then go, but he grasps your arm before you can.
He looks up at you, and his eyes hit you right in the gut. They’re bloodshot and sunken but still beautiful.
“Stay. Please. I just- I need to know I’m not dreaming. I keep thinking I’m dreaming.”
His voice is croaky from disuse and breaks at the end, but it’s so heartbreakingly earnest that you feel your breath catch. You move from your crouch and sit beside him on the couch; your hand is still in his.
You stay like that for a long time. His breathing is shakey and uneven, and every so often, his body shakes with what you can only assume are sobs. You stay pressed to his side the whole time, thumb rubbing back and forth over his hand.
Eventually, you speak again, “I’m gonna get you some food, Spence. You should eat.”
He says nothing back, but he does loosen his grip. You push yourself up from the coach with a promise you’ll be as fast as possible.
His kitchen is nearly empty, and you hope he’s been eating from the baskets. Still, you find enough to make noodles and butter, and you figure the carbs should help his energy some.
You return with the bowl. Spencer hasn’t moved, but his head follows you as you walk back over to him.
“It’s not fine dining.”
He studied you for a second, and you catch a glimpse of the old him in his eye.
“You did the same thing when I was sick on a case a year ago.”
You smile at his recollection.
“It helped you then.”
The rest of the night is spent mostly in silence. Occasionally, you tell him something to try to remind him that you’re there and that you won’t leave as long as he wants you there. Eventually, you get up from the couch again.
“Spencer, it’s too late to still be awake.”
He nods and still says nothing, but he is far more receptive than before. You reach your hand out to him to help him up from the couch, and he takes it.
He leads you to his room at a slow pace. His head stays down as you both take a seat on his bed, hands still interlocked. Being in his bedroom is odd for you. You’ve been to his apartment quite a few times before he disappeared from your life, but you never breached this space. It’s all very him. Almost surprisingly cozy, with books scattered around nearly everywhere there’s space.
You take in the moment for a beat before saying, “I’m gonna head home, Spencer, but please call me if you need anything at all. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
This makes his head snap up, and his eyes lock with yours.
“Please stay.”
That’s all he says, but every part of him is pleading with you. It’s not a good idea, and you know it. You’re the only person he’s seen in days, you aren’t close anymore, and you don’t particularly want to sleep on a couch tonight.
“Spencer, I don’t want to sleep in your living room tonight. I’ll come back.”
He pauses for a moment, “You can stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone.”
Your heart cracks again. There was a time when this was all you wanted. It’s still, deep down, all you want, just not like this. You know he doesn’t really want you there and he’s not himself. But you aren’t strong enough to say no, so you don’t.
He gets you clothes to wear, and you change in his bathroom. You come out and find him in his bed, laying with his back to you. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you get into bed next to him anyways. There are a thousand thoughts racing through your head, but the prevailing one is how badly you want to touch him, to hold him, to make him forget, just for the night. You stay still, though, confined to the edge of the bed and start to count to drown out the noise.
Though, you can’t drown out his voice, saying, “Can- Could you hold me? I think that everything feels better when you touch me.”
Another crack. By the end of this, you know Spencer Reid is going to break your heart all over again.
~
When you wake up the next morning, Spencer is still asleep. You sneak out of his room and call Hotch. When he answers, you tell him Spencer has let you in, and you ask for time off to try to help. You can tell from his voice that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he grants you it anyway.
Much of your day is spent like the night before. You stay next to Spencer, and you cook for him after leaving to pick up clothes and groceries. Then, you get him to shower and wash his hair. He sleeps with his head in your lap, and you feel like a fucking idiot at first, but as long as it’s helping him in some way, you let it happen.
That’s the thing: you don’t really know how to help him. You know he isn’t the type to talk about something until he is entirely ready, so all you can do is add something domestic and bright to his life while he grieves. It’s all you can think about in the moments of silence. Hell, you even read to him to try and get your mind off of it, but it barely helps.
The night is the same. You change in different rooms and slip into his bed at different times. You feel dirty for imagining what it would be like if the circumstances were different: if he wanted you like you have wanted him for the past two years. You hold him against you, and you pray for sign that you should be there.
The sign comes the following morning when Derek calls you.
“Y/n…”
You can hear his teasing tone over the phone.
“Hi, Derek.”
“What are you doing, mamas?”
You sigh, “What do you mean?”
You’re playing coy. You know he’s wondering why you’re at Spencer’s house, picking up the pieces, but you won’t be the one to bring it up.
“Why’d you ask Hotch for the week off, Y/n?”
Another sigh, “You know why, Derek. I just, I want to help him.”
“I know you do, Y/n, I know.”
He pauses for a moment, and you let the moment fill with silence.
“I know you care about him. We all care about him. But who is taking care of you?”
“I am. I can take care of him, and I can take care of me.”
“I know you can, but I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/n. Don’t let this be something that hurts you.”
“It won’t. I- You have to- Fuck, I’ll be fine. He’s not fine. I don’t care about me or any feelings that may get hurt right now. I’ll be fine.”
There’s another bear of silence, “Okay, Y/n. Just know you’re allowed to tap out.”
You try to think of anything else to say, but nothing comes, so you say your goodbyes.
You won’t need to tap out. You can take care of him and be good to him and ignore the other feelings you have. You can be good.
The call does make you think it’s time to push, to try harder, to help him get better. So, you approach him that day before bed, before he tucks himself into your arms and falls into a fretful sleep.
“Spencer?”
He takes a moment and then responds, “Yes?”
“You have to talk about it. I think that you need to talk about it. It doesn’t have to be to me but to someone.”
He’s quiet for a long time, and your breath is caught in your throat, waiting for him to say anything.
“I- I don’t want to,” his voice cracks while he says it.
“Spence, you can’t come back if you don’t. You can’t move forward if you don’t.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.”
A ringing echos in your ears.
“You don’t mean that. She- she would want you to keep going.”
Wrong thing to say.
“You don’t know anything about what she would want.”
He’s seething now, below the surface, but smoke has started to plume from his ears. Still, you don’t stop.
“Spencer, everyone knows that. No one would want you to put your life on hold.”
He speaks his next line through his teeth, “You don’t know anything, Y/n.”
You’ve never heard him sound so angry.
“Spencer-“
“No, just stop. You don’t know her. You don’t know me half as well as you think you do. You don’t know anything. I don’t even know why you’re here. I don’t want you here. You can't be what I need.”
The ringing in your ears is louder.
“Spencer, please. Just-“
“No!” His voice is raised now, bordering on a yell, “I don’t want you here. I want you out, Y/n.”
This has to be what shell shock feels like. The ringing, the tingle in your limbs, and the heat in your face. You don’t know how you are moving, but you are.
His voice is echoing in your head, or maybe he’s still talking, but you can’t tell either way. The only thing you can focus on is how Spencer sounded like he hates you and that Morgan was right about the hurt.
~
You spend the next day trying desperately to shut down the noise in your head. It doesn’t work. The day after is the same. And the days following that. You ignore calls when they come, you ignore the texts, but you can’t stop looking at your phone for a message from the man who fills your thoughts.
Spencer doesn’t call, obviously, and you have to sit with a pit in your stomach while you beg yourself to just get the fuck over it. Two years of reckoning with the severity of your love, months of watching him live happily without you, and it’s the three days you spent trying to help him feel incrementally better that floor you.
You feel like a dumb teenage girl with so much love and nothing to do with it. On top of everything, you feel selfish. Spencer lost the love of his life forever, and you’re nursing the worst heartbreak of your life because a boy will never want you and never has. Still, you send out prayers for him over and over. You hope you’ll see him in the BAU again, even if his eyes glaze over you. Hell, even if they look at you with hate the way they did two days ago. You just want him to function. You want him to be good and eventually be happy. You try to go to bed with soothing thoughts, but you end up with a mantra of his name.
You wake to your alarm and dress for work before you realize you aren’t actually supposed to go back yet. You never set a date to return. You wanted to be open as long as Spencer needed you. You’re supposed to be with him. You’re supposed to be helping and not tapping out. But you aren’t.
You have no reason not to return to the bullpen, so you do. You walk in and feel eyes on you. You wait for Morgan to call out to you, but he doesn’t, so you follow the feeling.
Your breath catches in your throat; it’s Spencer. He’s sitting at his desk, paperwork spread out, and he doesn’t look away from your gaze; he just holds it. His face is unreadable, and yours is definitely not, so you look away first. You don’t look up again until you reach Hotch’s office. You knock and hear him call out to come in.
“I’m back if that’s okay.”
He looks up at you, and you want to cry. You know he can read you. He has always been the best at it.
“Are you okay with that, Y/l/n?”
You lock eyes with him, “Yes, sir.”
It’s no use; he knows your tells and you aren’t being honest.
“Alright, conference room in five.”
Whatever he sees in your face, he ignores and takes you at your word, but there’s a warning in his tone. He knows when to let things go and when to push. More than that, though, he knows you’d never let something like this affect your work.
~
The first case back is in Maryland, and the one after is in Austin, and the next is in Philadelphia with The Replicator. The job takes you all over the country, and the cases blend together. You don’t speak to Spencer through all of it. You’re never partnered, never work together, you sit on opposite ends of the jet. You don’t even speak at Strauss’ funeral. It’s radio silent, and everyone notices it, but no one brings it up.
In that time, you allow yourself to slip away slightly. You don’t go out with the team, you see Pen at nearly half frequency, and basically, the only time you speak is on cases. It’s stupid and melodramatic, but you call it healing. Derek tries to reason with you, JJ sticks to you a bit more than usual, and Penelope calls you virtually whenever she can, but their efforts are mostly in vain. This is your way of protecting yourself. You feel like you have to isolate in order to improve, and you know, given time, you will come back to yourself.
Penelope’s insistence that you go to her Day of the Dead celebration breaks your distance.
“Y/n, please come. I know you aren’t going out, but you have to. I know you have people to honor, and I need you there.”
You sigh, “Whose going, Pen?”
“The team, which you are a part of, so you must be there.”
“I don’t think I can do that. I promise you I will celebrate with you. I’ll help you set up, just please don’t make me go.”
Penelope pauses, but the glint in her eye keys you into the fact that she is not interested in giving up.
“We miss you, Y/n. Everyone loves you and misses you. You’ve been living this stupid, isolated life, and it’s time for you to come back. You are not this person. I refuse to believe it. You’re coming, and that’s final.”
Maybe you don’t have the energy to argue, or maybe you know she’s right, but you agree to go.
~
The thought of seeing him makes your heart race, and the clock you keep glancing at makes it worse. Just a few more hours before you're trapped in a confined space (Pen’s beautiful home) with a man you haven’t spoken to in weeks.
You busy yourself with preparing. Lights are hung, food is made, and you make a trip to the store while Pen sets up her remembrance table. When everything is said and done, you can’t help but feel this is the most beautiful thing you’ve been a part of in a long time.
The first knock comes at 7:30 exactly, and it’s Hotch and Rossi. They are followed closely by Blake, then Derek and JJ. By 7:00, the atmosphere is light and loving, and you feel a bit of your anxiety let up as the minutes go by without Reid. But, eventually, the knock comes, of course it does, and you move into a corner as Spencer walks in. You feel a shift in energy, though you doubt it’s palpable for anyone else. Rossi is the first to make his way over to you, and his presence comforts you nearly immediately.
“How you doing, kid?” His voice is soft like he’s speaking to a scared rabbit.
“I’m better,” you say, and it’s about as honest as you can get. As much as you’d like to think he knows nothing about what’s gone on, you’re smarter than that. He’s the best profiler on the team, and he’s always known when someone was off with you. Even so, you are better than you were, even if you aren’t quite good, and you know he believes you.
There’s some idle conversation between you before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not tonight. I don’t know when, but I will. Eventually, I will.”
It’s good enough for him, and you move on easily, which surprises you.
Right before Pen gathers you all to present your photos, he says, “Sometimes we think we’ve seen the whole picture, but we miss a big part. People do things because they don’t want to be hurt, but those things hurt them more. Just, be open.”
You don’t quite understand what he means, but you hope you will.
Penelope presents the first picture, which shows her parents. JJ honors her sister, Derek, his dad, Hotch Haley, and Rossi, Hernandez; then it’s your turn. You place down a photo of your best friend. You hadn’t talked much about her, but you think of her daily. She passed a few years before you joined the BAU.
“I was lucky to have someone that hurt that much to lose.”
That’s all you say, but it’s enough for you, and it would be enough for her.
Spencer is last. He places down a picture of Tesla and a picture of Maeve. Your heart is heavy for everyone.
The night dwindles from there. Hotch and Rossi say their goodbyes, and Rossi gives you a knowing look as he leaves. You just smile. You stay for a few minutes after, but eventually, you move to leave as well.
You make it down Garcia’s porch before you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn, and it’s Spencer’s face you see.
“Would you- Do you think you could come over? Do you think we could talk?”
~
The feeling you have walking up to Spencer's apartment is similar to what you felt the last time. You’re incredibly anxious, but at least you know you’ll be let in this time.
The drive over was silent. Spencer had taken the metro to Penelope’s, so he rode with you. It wasn’t necessarily awkward. There was just an understanding that the car wasn’t the place to begin your conversation.
Now, as Spencer unlocked his door, it’s one of those rare moments you felt starved for words, and you know it’s because you’re scared you’ll say the wrong thing and face the same reaction that you did the last time you were in his home.
He leads you to his living room and motions for you to sit, and you do. The two of you are on opposite ends of his couch while you wait for him to say something.
His first words are airy and light, “Thank you for letting me talk to you.”
You look at him but remain silent, waiting for him to go on. All you can think about is why he wants to speak to you at all. The last time you spoke, he made it incredibly clear he did not want you in his life or around him at all.
Before you can think about it more and let your anger and sadness build, he speaks again, “I feel really stupid right now. I kind of feel stupid whenever I’m around you recently.”
He pauses momentarily before going on, “I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. About the last time we spoke. I’ve been thinking about it pretty constantly for the past few weeks.”
You open your mouth, unsure of what exactly to say, but you can’t get there before he’s off again.
“I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore. I don’t think I’ve known how to for a long time. I just, I need you to know how sorry I am for speaking to you like that.”
He takes a shakey breath but keeps going, “That wasn’t me, and that isn’t how I feel. I’m just unbelievably sorry, Y/n.”
He stops there, and you work to collect your thoughts.
“I know. A part of me knows, at least, that you didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be there for you, and hearing that made me- I just- I think it made me hate myself for wanting to be there.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m unbelievably sorry.”
“You didn’t talk to me for months, Spencer. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you let me in in the first place. I thought you hated me.”
He’s silent for a long minute.
“I never hated you, Y/n. I just stopped knowing how to act around you, and then I met Maeve. I fell so deep into it that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I- And I just started to feel like you didn’t want me to speak to you, so I didn’t. But, when you came here, after everything, I guess I just felt like you were the only person who would get it. You never, no one on the team ever treated me or talked to me how you did. I just wanted that.”
Tears had begun to well in your eyes now. A part of you gets what he means, at least about letting you in, but the other part is so confused as to why he stopped being comfortable around you.
“I don’t understand, Spencer. Why did you stop knowing how to be around me?”
There’s desperation in your voice that makes you sound like a stranger to yourself. Maybe you’re a stranger to everyone right now.
“I uh, I don’t really know.”
“That's not fair, Spence.”
You’re crying now. Just a little bit, but you can feel the wetness on your cheeks. You can see that you are by the look on his face. He looks broken, and you know it's a reflection of your own image.
You wipe your face, “Thank you for apologizing, Spencer. I just, there are parts of this all that I don’t understand, and if you can't explain them to me, I don’t think I ever will.”
“Y/n-,” he calls out your name like a prayer.
“It’s okay, Spence. You don’t have to say anything more. We talked, and things will go back to how they were eventually.”
“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”
You smile sadly as you get up to leave.
“I am, too, for what it's worth. For whatever I did to make things change in the first place.”
You leave it at that, and it takes everything in you not to look back as you leave his apartment.
~
Things do get easier after that. Not completely. You still love him, and it hurts, but it helps to know he doesn’t hate you. He talks to you some, cordial things, and you do the same. You're sure your teammates still sense something is off, but this works for you. Right now, it works. Getting over him, not loving him anymore, is going to take work, but eventually, you know that you won’t hurt anymore.
Shortly after you and him talked, you started going back out with your friends. Spencer joined periodically, but that was normal. Bars were never really his scene.
Tonight, everyone gathers at your local pub. Your last case was particularly grueling, and you all need a way to blow off some steam. It's fun, and you feel good, even with Spencer sitting across from you. You feel proud of yourself for getting to this point.
JJ and Penelope feed you drinks to try and get you to dance, and you let them. Tonight feels as good of a night as any to ‘get back out there’ as Pen says. So, you do. You dance with them, and you ward off the other cops and agents around you who try to pull you away from your group. You aren’t interested in that. Right now, you're just having an appropriate amount of fun for a woman 15 feet from her boss.
Time goes by quickly, and by the time you get back to the table, you, Derek, Penelope, and JJ remain. He tells you that Hotch, Rossi, Reid, and Alex left a few minutes before. The conversation between you flows for a while, up until the drinks loosen Penelope up enough to bring up what you were pretty sure the team designated a no-no topic.
“Y/n, you have to talk about it.”
You’re still laughing as something Derek said when you reply, “What?”
“You know what. You and Boy-Genius. What on Earth happened? You went from ice-cold to semi-friendly. None of us saw it coming.”
“Babygirl-,” Derek tries to stop her, but you cut him off.
“No, it’s okay. I have to talk about it at some point, and I think right now is the only time I’ll be tipsy enough to let you get it out of me.”
You're still laughing slightly, but the pit that's lived in your stomach for the past few months starts to rear its head.
“After your Day of the Dead party, he asked to talk to me. I went to his place, and he apologized. I don’t really understand what he said or what he meant, but I can’t be sad about him forever.”
Pen perks up a bit at that, “I knew that party would bring good things!”
You giggle a bit at her outburst, but then JJ asks, “What did he say?”
The faces around you all tune in at that. You know they don’t see this as gossip. They care about you both too much to trivialize it like that.
“He just said that he stopped knowing how to act around me, and he didn’t know why, but then he met Maeve, and I guess it didn’t matter so much after that. He was my best friend, and then he was nothing.”
JJ shares a glance with Derek and then speaks, “Oh, Y/n.”
“What?”
After a beat, Derek says, “He didn’t just not know how to act around you.”
Now you're confused, “What do you mean? I talked to him, that's what he said. He didn’t know why. I mean, he knows everything and didn’t know why he didn’t want to be around me anymore. How fucking stupid is that.”
You laugh again, but it does come off as genuine in the slightest.
“Y/n, he probably doesn’t really know why. At least not fully. For someone as smart as he is, the kid can be really stupid.”
“Stop being cryptic.”
Derek sighs but goes on, “Pretty girl, pretty boy was in love with you. Probably still is. He just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same.”
“No. That's not true.”
You look at the others around you, but their faces are serious.
“He loved Maeve. He loves Maeve. That, that doesn’t make any sense.”
It's JJ’s turn to talk now.
“He definitely did love Maeve, no one is denying that, but we all saw how he was around you. His whole relationship with her was safe. He couldn’t be hurt by her rejection every day because he had no way of seeing her. With you, he could.”
Your mind is moving a mile a minute, “Did he tell you guys this?”
Penelope puts her hand over yours and says, “He didn’t have to, love. We all say the way he looked at you and acted around you. The way he talked about you. That boy was head over heels.”
“Guys, I appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but this isn’t real. Spencer doesn’t- this is not real.”
“Y/n, pause. Think about the way he acted around you, the things he said. Think about how Reid is.”
You hear what Derek said, but it all sounds faint like someone stuffed your ears with cotton while you weren't paying attention. All you can focus on are the different scenes running through your head, the scenes of your life with Spencer in it. How he memorized your coffee order and brought it for you every day, how he never shied away from your touch despite his aversion to contact, how he consistently went out of his way to protect you on the field. At his house after everything, the way he clung to you and wanted to be held. How he said in his own words, “You can't be what I need”; not “you aren’t,” but “you can’t.”
Your whole world is crashing down in this bar, and you can’t do anything to stop it.
“Y/n?”
JJ’s voice snaps you out of your spiral.
“Just go talk to him.”
You nod mutely, and you get up.
~
Everything in the last ten months of your life has led you to the exact spot you were when everything blew up in the first place: Spencer’s door.
This time, you aren't too worried about him not letting you in. If anything, it's the opposite. Him opening this door could open a hundred others, and you don’t quite know if you are ready for any of them. You sit there and sit there and sit there, trying to work up the courage to knock, though you aren’t sure it's there to begin with. Right as you're about to walk away and decide you’ll come back another day, his door swings open.
“Y/n?”
His face is lit up with shock, and you notice his hand that is not on the door is holding his pistol.
“What are you doing here?”
You don’t answer, “Why did you open the door?”
He sets his piece down on the entry table before responding, “I heard footsteps in the hall and saw they stopped here. I was anxious. 50.3% of home invasions happen between 8:00 pm and 7:00 am.” He cuts himself off there, “Y/n, why are you here?”
You didn’t pay attention to anything he said. All you could think about was the way his lips were moving and the way his eyes locked onto yours as he talked.
“Do you love me?”
That is not what you wanted to say.
His lips fall open as he takes in a sharp breath, “What?”
“Or I guess did you love me? Before everything? Because Derek and JJ and Pen, they all said that you loved me, and now I can’t think about anything else, Spencer.”
He doesn’t speak, but you don't really give him a chance to.
“I just, I know I sound crazy right now, but I feel fucking crazy. I keep going over everything in my head, and I have been, for the past year I have been, but now it’s all different. It's all different because they said that you loved me, but you didn’t think I’d feel the same way.”
Here, you do pause, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you go on before you can stop yourself.
“Because if that's true, Spencer, it's just- I did. I do. And if it's not, then please just tell me so I can stop feeling this way.”
He sounds resigned when he says, “Y/n,” and you feel like you know what that means.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I'm doing this. You don’t have to say anything. Actually, please don’t say anything. I don't think I can hear it. Just pretend I never-”
He cuts off your ramble, “Y/n, stop.”
You draw your eyes from the floor, look up at him, and find something in his gaze you have never seen before. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you, and it takes everything you have not to look away. His hand raises to cup your jaw, and your skin lights on fire. Before you can process what he’s doing, you feel his lips press against yours, and something clicks. At first, his touch is light, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. But, when he grasps that you won’t, he presses himself to you harder, and all you can think about is how nothing has ever felt so right.
His lips move against yours, and you don’t know how you're managing to reciprocate because it feels like everything in your body has gone fuzzy. The kiss is by no means long, but it feels like it lasts forever, and by the time he pulls away, you’re breathless.
His forehead stays connected to yours, and he whispers, “I do, Y/n, love you. I have.”
You don’t feel the tears on your cheeks until he’s wiping them away.
“Oh, Y/n.”
“Did you know? That you did? Is that why…”
You trail off, hoping he’ll pick up on what you're asking, and he does.
“I didn’t at first, or I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you until it happened. I got scared, so I ran. I just never thought that you could feel the same or that I was hurting you. I didn’t realize that. I just thought I was doing what was best for us. I felt guilty for being in love with my best friend.”
“And Maeve?”
“I loved Maeve. I’ll always have love for her. I was trying to move on, and I thought I could eventually be with her and be around you without it hurting. I wish I would have told you this before.”
“You’re telling me now. That's enough.”
This time, it's you who pushes your lips to meet his. Your arms snake around his neck, and his fall to your waist. You follow when he pulls you into his apartment and closes the door. There is still pain on both sides, but you can feel it dissipating as you cling to each other. You’re just two broken people who have finally found a way to each other.
This kiss is different, hungrier. Neither of you pulls away for longer than a few seconds as you navigate your way from his entryway to his couch. Every touch is desperate like you're searching for something you never knew existed until now. His hands pull you closer and closer until he's pulling you on top of him, and each of your legs rests on opposite sides of his hips.
Your lips break from his for a moment, “What do you want, Spence?”
His reply is instant, “You.”
From there, things move faster. Your hands unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders while he undoes your pants. There are moments of awkwardness that come with exploring another for the first time, but it feels good. His hands trace over your hips and push further until you're left on top of him in only your underwear and bra. He takes you in like you are something to be marveled at, and you know your eyes reflect the same adoration.
You raise yourself off of him and work to get him in the same state of undress as you, and when you position yourself on top of him, you feel his length press against your center. The two thin layers of fabric do little to hinder the intensity as you rock into him. He lets out quiet moans at the action as his lips trace down your neck and over your collarbone.
His breath ghosts over you and makes you shiver when he asks, “Can I touch you?”
“Please.”
His hand moves between the two of you, and his fingers find your clit easily, rubbing circles over the fabric of your panties. You pant his name against his lips at the action. You feel like your whole body is lit up, and under any other circumstance, you'd feel embarrassed at how worked up you are, but you can’t seem to care.
After a few moments, he lifts you up and carries you to his bedroom. From there, he positions you below him on the bed, removing your remaining clothes in the same motion. The new setup lets you grip him, and he feels big in your hand. His fingers resume their previous assault before dipping down into you. You cry out at the feeling of him inside you, slowly pushing in and out, finding a spot that makes your legs start to shake. He’s relentless in his pursuit and all you can muster up the energy to say is his name.
“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”
It's somewhere between a whimper and a whisper, but the sound of his voice causes you to clench around his fingers.
He picks up on this, of course he does, and quickens his pace as he coos at you.
“So pretty like this. I’m so lucky.”
You’re embarrassingly close already, so when he moves his thumb over your clit to rub circles as he fucks into you with his fingers, you come undone almost instantly with a warning and cry of his name. He works you through your orgasm, all while whispering praise in your ear. Once you come down from your high, you start to push his boxers down his legs, but he stops you before you can fully.
“We don’t have to do anything more, Y/n. I liked just making you feel good.”
“I want more. I want to feel you if you want that too.”
“Of course I do. I just don’t want you to regret anything.”
“I couldn’t regret this, Spencer. I love you. I want all of you.”
It's the first time you’ve actually said those three words to him, and it feels so fucking good to say.
“I love you, too. God, so much.”
With that, he positions himself back on top of you, running his fingers over your slit gently before gripping himself.
“Do you have a condom?”
“I might somewhere, but I have an IUD, and I’m clean. I can try to find one if you’re more comfortable with that?”
“IUDs have a failure rate of around .05% and are largely considered the most effective form of birth control, so uh, as long as you're okay with it, I am.”
You smile to yourself at his statistic but nod, “I want to feel you, Spencer.”
He returns your smile before rubbing his length over your entrance a few times and slowly pushing himself into you just slightly. He teases you, or maybe himself, for a moment before fully entering you. You push your hips up to meet his, and feeling him in his entirety makes your jaw fall open. He’s big, and you feel unbelievably full.
He waits a moment for you to adjust before he starts to develop a rhythm. His hands are everywhere, but his eyes are focused solely on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a moment of your reaction to him inside of you. To be fair, you are probably putting on a good show. Every movement he makes hits you in exactly the right spot, and you don’t think you could be louder if you tried. You can feel the leg he’s not holding up against his shoulder shake against the bed. Your first orgasm has made way for your second to be incredibly close.
“Spencer, please.”
You’re crying out, desperate for a little more to push you over the edge.
“What do you need, baby?” His voice is tight like he’s not far himself, and it sounds better than anything you’ve ever heard.
“Harder. Please, harder.”
He takes your direction immediately, rubbing circles on your clit with one hand while he thrusts into you with a bruising force. He’s fucking you like he wants you to remember the feeling long after he stops, and you know that you will. Everything about it is overwhelming: his smell, his pace, his eyes. You are covered in him, and he is covered in you.
After a moment, the hand he had on your stomach trails up to grasp lightly at your throat, and you fall into feeling. You can’t warn him that you're about to come before you do. The feeling is white hot. Bigger than your first, and the fact that you're coming on him sends you into overdrive. You can feel his hips falter for a moment, but you're lost in a daze, crying out his name.
He pumps into you a few more times before he follows suit. He pulls out, and you feel stripes of his come paint your cunt and lower stomach as he finishes with a moan of your name.
He falls next to you on the bed, and it takes you both a few moments to collect yourselves and catch your breath.
Once you do, the only thing you can think to say is, “I love you.”
It feels like those are the only words circling around in your head at the moment. Some mixture of his name and that declaration. While you know you each said it before, that your profession was the exigence of the sex you just had, it feels uniquely vulnerable to say now. It’s like the moment you just had together could have changed things or made him realize that he doesn’t actually love you after all.
That shoe doesn’t drop, though. Instead, you hear the three words echoed back to you by a man who, 6 hours ago, you thought would never, ever say them.
You turn to face him, and the love on his face feels like it could knock you out. He’s looking at you and smiling in a way you haven't seen in a long time.
“Will you let me clean you up?”
You know that part of the reason he’s asking has something to do with the likelihood of bacteria growth or something like that, but you think it's mainly that he wants to take care of you. Him wetting a rag and running it over you feels intimate in a different way, in an excruciatingly gentle way. Personal in a way that makes you feel like nothing between you could ever be wrong again, and maybe that's naive to think, but you feel hopeful regardless.
Once he finishes, he takes his space back next to you in the bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms, and it's different than it was all those months ago. This time, you know that he won’t push you away and that you won't hurt yourself by being next to him. This time, you just tuck yourself into him, and you let him whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you begin to drift off. This time, it feels like peace.
~
The following day, you wake up to Spencer still next to you, looking incredibly soft in the early morning light. You search for a moment to find your phone in the piles of clothes and are greeted with a text from Pen.
How did it go????
You smile before turning your phone off and climbing back into bed next to the man you love. It couldn’t have gone better.
-
all done! yay!!!
i hope you guys love it!! i’m not 100% happy with the ending but i’ve been writing this for so long and just needed to be done.
this is my first time writing angst on here and my longest fic, so PLEASE tell me what you think! all (nice) feedback is welcome and i love to hear from you guys!! :)
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#fic rec#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfiction#fanfiction#friends to lovers#friends to enemies to lovers#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fic rec
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cheol as a boy dad
boy dad! seungcheol fluff, requested warnings: reader has a womb, cheol being down bad for his baby boy word count: 705 author's notes: requested by anon (thank you so much!!) I hope you like it. i never really thought about boy dad cause cheol's definitely a girl dad for me but I loved writing this so much! Lemme know what you think :) check out 'cheol as a girl dad' here.
boy dad! cheol who starts crying in the hospital seeing a junior version of him. his big boba eyes are yours, no doubt, but the little pout that finds home on his baby's lips are unmistakably his — even he can't deny it. his eyes start watering when his baby boy holds his index finger with his whole palm.
boy dad! cheol who litters gentle kisses on your sweaty face, murmuring the sweetest of praises on how you did so well and how your baby is a sweet healthy boy who looks like the best of them both. your tears melt into his as you both happily sob over this moment of joy.
boy dad! cheol who you always find around your baby, smiling and cooing at him, playing with him and his toys and always bringing a wide grin to your baby's face. the child's laughter fills your little home and you can't help but sigh in content.
boy dad! cheol who always traces the baby's features delicately: the eyes that reflect the same shine that yours hold, the lips that pout the same way he does, the little button nose and the cheeks that seungcheol withholds the urge to bite because they're so chubby and so.... biteable (the cuteness aggression is so real right now!!)
boy dad! cheol who loves to dress your child in matching clothes as his. you search for seungcheol as you browse through the women's section, only to find him approaching you with two same shirts in different sizes. everytime you all go out you stand out because you're walking around with two same people, just different fonts.
boy dad! cheol who wraps his hands around your waist and kisses your neck, surprising you as you make dinner. who always takes time to appreciate you about all the struggles you had to deal with during the pregnancy, and how you've made him more happy than any man in this world.
you turn around and start kissing him, but just as things were about to dive deeper, your little trouble-maker stumbles up to you both and starts tugging on your pants. seungcheol grabs the child and tucking him in between you both, gives you and your child a bone-crushing hug that ends up making your son giggle endlessly. cheol gently whispers how he's holding his world in his arms right now, and your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard.
boy dad! cheol who pouts and whines everytime your son ignores him and runs to you. you don't realise how, but your son takes more liking to you, running to you first whenever you return home from somewhere, or whenever he needs something. although seungcheol loves to see it, he lowkey hates how he's just left there, hands outstretched for a hug hanging in the air. he dramatically falls to the floor, kicking his feet and whining which makes your son run from your arms to fall onto his dad's chest, giggling with how cheol tickles him.
boy dad! cheol who gets so excited to take your son to the first day of his school. although having to leave him makes his sad, he's excited for his son's new step in his life and will be all ears to hear him talk all about whatever happened at school. he sneakily gives his son a sweet treat without you knowing (it's their little secret now) as he tells everything he learnt in class that day.
boy dad! cheol who always teaches his son to respect everyone he meets in his life. he hopes that his son learns from watching the way he treats you, his wife, with all the love and respect he could give. he hopes that one day, when his son grows up, he treats his wife the same way seungcheol treats you now.
boy dad! cheol who, even though secretly wished for a baby girl, becomes extremely elated with his precious little baby boy, in whom he sees both you and him. hes feels like the luckiest man on earth — with a wife he loves with every inch of him and a lovely son who he wants to keep happy for the rest of his life. his little, happy family.
#svt#seventeen#svt x reader#seventeen headcanons#svt headcanons#seventeen × reader#svt scenarios#scoups#choi seungcheol#seungcheol#seungcheol x reader#boy dad seungcheol#seungcheol fluff#scoups x reader#scoups fluff#boy dad scoups#articles.ris
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Deadly Eyes
Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader
Warnings: se&ual harassment / angst / curses / hateful words / comfort
If someone means harm to the girl he loves, Paul won't hesitate
Words: 1k
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You stare at the men and women right in front of you. All of them were looking at you with the same emotions pictured in their faces. Disgust. Outrage.
Today was the first day after Paul announced your relationship to his people. The Fremen welcomed you with open arms… well some of them at least. Your roots lies with none of the big houses. All you know about your family is, that they were travelers who never lived at the same place for more than a couple of years. You are one of the Lost Ones. But when Paul rescued you from being tortured by the brutal Harkonen a couple months ago, you never thought about traveling somewhere else again. Your people always praised that the soul is a free from wich never settles and never find the one and only home. Paul changed your way of thinking. With him you felt at home for the first time ever.
„The Mahdi can’t be with someone who is lost“, one of the believers growled as you were passing by. All you wanted to do was taking a walk and exploring the hallways of the Sietch, one of the rocky formations what the Fremen call their home. And now you are standing in front of a hand full of believers who are talking bad about you.
A old, wrinkly woman hisses. „You don’t belong here, Lost One.“
You look at her fully blue eyes. The same color your eyes have turned as an outcome to the effects of spice everywhere. „Please let me through. I don’t wish for trouble.“
Now a young man steps right in front of you. Too close to be comfortable with. You try to move and bring some distance between the two of you, but your back almost immediately hits the wall. Your chest tightens up. This feels like a cage. A cage of people who hate you.
„But you are trouble, whore.“ He couldn’t have been more than five years older than you, but he was so intimidating that you wanted to flee before he would hurt you. You still are one of the Lost Ones. Their are no fighters. Your people staying alive because they run for dear life when problems appear. That’s why the Fremen always looked down on your kind.
„All your people do, is stealing and living in the shadows. You are not worthy to be here. Your are not worthy to be with Muad’Dib“, he grabbed your neck with a tight grib. „But I’ll find some use for u, don’t you worry.“
The others looked away while he is dragging you to a shallow corner at the end of the hallway. Your screams got muffled by his greasy hand and silent tears filled your eyes. The back of your head hit the wall hard and your vision flickers for a moment. Fear crawling all over your body, followed by the tip of his knife. You’re trying to beg for him to stop, but all he does is giggling at your helplessness.
„I will show you your worth and after that I will give your body to the desert. I will…“
A voice is shouting at the near distance. „Where is she?!“ The man fearlessly let’s go of you and hiding his knife. You fall down on your knees as Paul rushes around the corner. Gentle hands pulling you up and you begin to sob, hiding your face at his chest.
„How dare you to touch her!“ Paul growls at the man who is now lowering his head in respect for his Duke.
„I did not want to bring any disrespect to you, Mahdi. But this woman damages you reputation. She is not worthy to be …“ but Paul cuts him off.
„She is equal to me. I am who I am today, because of her. How dare you to speak about her like that?“ His voice became dangerously silent and you could feel under your palms how tense his muscles were. As you look around you discover that people have stopped and watching the scene with wide eyes.
You reach up to gently touch his cheek, so Paul would look at you. „I’m okay, Paul. Nothing happened. I’m unharmed.“
For a moment the coldness in his eyes vanished, but as he looked down at your neck and saw the bruises … he was ready to kill someone. Paul kisses your forehead and it feels like that he needed to do it just to calm himself down, before he would actually cut a throat. His grip around your waist thightens but not in a hurtful way. You never felt more protected as right here in is arms.
Paul turns his head slowly. A deadly look on his face. The man kneeled down in fear of his punishment. „I will only say this once and for all. Who ever touches this woman and mean harm to her, will be sentenced to death. Without exceptions.“ He looks around, making eye contact with everyone who is watching. „Spread the word. I will personally kill everyone no matter if man or woman.“
The Fremen quickly leaving the place murmuring and chattering. The message was clear. If you break this rule, death by Muad’Dip will find you.
„And for you“, Paul looked down at the man who tried to do unspeakable things to you. His voice full of dark rage. „If you ever come near her again or look at her even from afar, I’ll break your neck.“ He gave two other men a sign to carry him away.
„I should have known that something like that might would happen“, Paul curses. „I’m so sorry. I should have never left you go alone.“ His eyes meet yours and the deep sorrow in them breaks your heart a little.
„You couldn’t ever have guessed that. This isn’t your fault and it’s not your job to see something like that before it happens.“
Paul pulls you closer now that the two of you are alone. „But is is my job to protect you.“
„And you did.“
He leans his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. His body is still tense but his touch is so gently. „I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if I weren’t be here on time … I couldn’t…“ his voice breaks. This is the side of him no one ever sees. The softness and the vulnerability. To everyone he is the fearless Muad’Dib. But to you he is Paul Atreides. The man who owns your heart.
„Then don’t. You saved me. I am right here.“ To prove your point you get on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. Paul cups your face with his hands, holding you so close to him that nothing would have room in between.
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Thank you for reading! Comments, ideas & reposts are very welcome <3
#dune movie#dune part two#dune part one#paul atredies x reader#paul atreides#paul atreides x you#paul atreides x reader#paul muad'dib#timothée chalamet#comforting#soft touch#paul atreides imagine#paul atreides kissing#protective paul atreides#protective boyfriend
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pleasure
anthony bridgerton x wife, fem!reader
summary: after a game of pall mall, anthony realises he has been neglecting his wife
warnings: nudity, orgasm, cunnilingus, p in v, fingering, praise kink, expeditionist kink, breeding kink, semi-public sex, breast play, unprotected sex, allusions to anxiety (maybe), arranged marriage, argument, dom!anthony, sub!reader
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You sighed to yourself as you nervously wrung your fingers out in front of yourself. You were in the carriage on the way to your arranges husband’s manor. You always became anxious when meeting people that you did not know well even if you had already met them once before. Truly, you adored Anthony’s family but it was still nerve inducing.
Your husband sat opposite you, gazing peacefully out of the window. This was how your carriage rides were normally spent. In silence. You are typically quiet anyway and for Anthony it would depend on his mood. However, even when the two of you were alone he refused to speak to you.
Suddenly, the carriage halted and Anthony assisted you out of the carriage but that was the only touching you would ever do. The only night you both had spent together was your wedding night. You made your way to the entrance, hanging behind Anthony a bit. “Mother.”, Anthony hung his head in greeting. “Lady Bridgerton.”, you copied your husband’s actions. She smiled and stated: “Call me Violet, Y/N.”
She then guided the two of you inside. You stood off to the side as Anthony’s siblings welcomed him. Eloise noticed you standing quietly and walked over to you. “Hello, Y/N. It’s nice to see you again.”, she said. “You as well, Eloise.”, you gently smiled. Your eyes strayed to Anthony’s figure and so did Eloise’s. “Has he been annoying you recently? He certainly annoyed me when I lived with him.”, she questioned. “Of course. He wouldn’t be himself if he wasn’t annoying.”, you replied. Eloise laughed slightly and you laughed along with her but it was almost in spite of your husband. You hated him but at the same time you loved him. He certainly hated you.
Benedict then led you all outside for a game of pall mall. You had never played it before and so Colin taught you the rules. “How shall we choose who gets which mallet? I think the guest should get the first choice.”, Benedict stated as he looked to you. Anthony reached out before Benedict hit his hand away. “Not you, Anthony. I’m talking to Y/N.”, he said annoyed. You noticed Anthony’s hand attempt to grab the black one before and so you choose that one just to aggravate him. “Great choice, Y/N!”, Colin chuckled. You turned to look at Anthony and saw his brooding look and tried to contain your giggles.
“Everybody get your mallets.”, Benedict said as they all raced to get their mallet. All except Anthony who was left to the pink one. He huffed in annoyance and you went to stand beside Eloise. “Look at Anthony. There’s practically steam coming out of his ears.”, you laughed. Anthony heard his name and turned to glare at you. You shut up.
“Y/N, you can have the first hit.”, Daphne offered. You slowly walked up and tried to ignore how everyone was focusing on you. You carefully aimed and then hit it. It was just wide of the goal. “That was awful.”, you stated. “Nobody gets it in first try, Y/N. In fact, that was perhaps the best first attempt I have ever seen.”, Daphne responded reassuringly. You turned to move out of the way for the next person’s go and made eye contact with Anthony who looked exceedingly angry compared to before. His eyes bore into you and he looked as if he was trying to decipher something.
It was now Anthony’s turn. He managed to hit your ball onto the opposite side of the field. You rolled your eyes as you began your stroll over. Anthony offered to go with you. You ignored him and continued. He followed anyway. You finally found the ball and noticed your husband. “Why are you following me?”, you blatantly asked. “You’re my wife.”, he simply stated. “Am I?”, you replied. He tilted his head in confusion. “Yes. How would you not be?”
“You do not treat me as such.”, you continued. “We have only ever once been intimate. At our wedding night. You barely even touch me, never mind intimately.”, you sighed as tears pooled in your eyes. He gazed at you. “Is that truly how you feel?”
You nodded, unable to form words. Tears slid down your cheeks. “I did not mean to make you feel as such. I didn’t want to hurt you. I am not made to be a husband or father. I am not made to love or to be loved.”, he responded as water filled his eyes. “But Anthony, you’ve been a father for your whole life. You raised your siblings and you did a great job at it.”, you stared at him with a sad expression. He looked up at you and took in your understanding tone. He gently caressed your face.
You gazed into his eyes. You were both so vulnerable. Anthony’s lips crashed onto yours and you sighed with content. You pulled away for air. “Anthony, please.”, you moaned as you moved your hands into his hair. “Please what?”, he asked teasingly. “Touch me. We have missed a year of this and are yet to make an heir so fuck me like it.”, you bravely admitted. He smirked before inserting two fingers up your dress and into your cunt. He let out a sigh as he felt how wet you were. “Good girl.”, he praised.
You moaned at his praise. “Need more.”, you mumbled. He leant down and pushed his face up your dress and began kitten licking your pussy. You gently guided his head against you. He still had his fingers pumping in and out of you as he licked up and down your slick folds. He felt your walls clench against his tongue and let out a sound that sent vibrations down your cunt. You grabbed the edge of your dress to ease the pressure building up within you.
You felt yourself cum as Anthony made sure to swallow it all. He then left from beneath your dress and licked the last of your slick from his lips. He moved his hands to your corset and his eyes looked to you for permission. You nodded breathlessly. He delicately removed your garments with expertise.
He hastily removed his breeches and released his erection. He bowed down to lick your hardening nipples and he even abruptly bit them. “Anthony…”, you moaned. He heard your desperate cry and lined himself up with your entrance. Slowly, he entered you and allowed you time to adjust to him. He then began to thrust in and out of you. You grinded against him, causing him to fasten his pace as he knew you wanted more.
He rested his head against your breasts and gently kissed them, occasionally leaving love bites. Anthony then adapted his position to reach deeper into you. He felt you tighten around his length and his cock began to twitch at the sudden pressure against him. You let the euphoria take you away and Anthony soon followed. He made sure to continue pushing into you as he came. After all, you had wanted to make an heir. He groaned before carefully and slowly removing himself from you. He rolled off of you and kissed your temple as he moved to hold you.
“Dear, we should probably head back. It has taken us a while to find the ball.”, he chuckled and you tiredly laughed. He put his breeches back on and helped you into your dress. He attempted to do your corset up but he only knew how to undo them, not tie them up and so it was slightly loose. He only hopes his family wouldn’t notice. You started your journey back to the pall mall match with Anthony’s help as your legs were slightly wobbly.
Your hair looked similar to as it had before. Luckily, you had requested your maid to only curl it and add a pin (you weren’t one for all the fuss of doing your hair) and so it was nothing extravagant so it was easy to set it back to how it was. As soon as you arrived back, you realised the game had come to an end. “Who won?”, Anthony asked. “Colin.”, Benedict replied. “Why did you take so long?”, Colin questioned. “You could have won, brother. Actually, Y/N, you could have won.”, he added. Violet came outside to check on everyone as she had heard the conversation. It didn’t take her long to realise what had happened. She glanced at the steady hold Anthony had on you, the slight tone in your cheeks and your legs that looked as if they would collapse at any moment if Anthony’s hold was not so strong. She smiled to herself. She knew that the arranged marriage would work. You two were meant for each other, no matter how you wished to deny it.
#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x female reader#anthony bridgerton one shot#bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x y/n#bridgerton x female reader#fem!reader
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brat two: i might say something stupid | joel miller
pairing/AU: joel miller x brat!female!reader – no outbreak
summary: joel is continuing to have a brat summer.
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap, enemies to lovers vibes? swearing, use of pet names, smut, brat taming?, dom!joel, some daddy!joel, manhandling, some light bondage, a little exhibitionism? a little dacryphilia, praise, degradation (whore, slut), some sub space territory, edging, creampie, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), no use of y/n
a/n: ok, so a part two to this!! i’m giving reader a backstory in this so if that’s not your cup of tea and prefer the reader to be a blank slate, then maybe this isn’t for you. as always i wanna give a little shout out to @dustydaddyyy for always helping me when i'm stuck! <3 i know it's demure fall soon, but there's still some brat summer left, so happy reading! 💚
main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.
Joel.
Joel. Joel. Joel.
Joel Miller.
Miller. Miller. Miller.
The cicadas rattled in the breeze coming through the window of your childhood bedroom. It was hotter than Satan’s ass crack, and sleep couldn’t pull you under. The hem seam of your ratty sleep shirt was fraying, and you couldn’t keep yourself from picking at it – pulling at the threat.
Pull, pull, pull.
Joel Miller. That was his name on the mailbox, but he’d only told you Joel. Just Joel.
Yes, sir. Please, Daddy. Bye, Joel.
With a huff you sat up, your back resting against the headboard as your eyes rolled over the darkened room. The shadows shapeshifted before your eyes like ghosts, and you wondered if you deserved to be haunted.
It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours.
You could still feel the phantom stretch of his cock inside you, and your cheeks were sore from his spanking, but it was nothing compared to your thoughts plagued by him.
God, you felt crazy, like a little girl with a school crush on the teacher.
Except, you didn’t have crushes, didn’t like, or fall in love, with anyone. People had a crush on you, people fell in love with you, people liked you.
Biting down on the soft skin of the inside of your cheek, you ripped away the thin blanket covering your bottom half as your feet touched the cold hardwood floor.
The switch on your bedside lamp clicked as the warm glow seemed to scare the ghosts away. The ratty shirt fell over your knees as you walked across the room and flung open the door. A triangle of light cut the hardwood floor in two as you made your way down the hall and stairs. The slapping of bare feet against wood echoed against the tall ceiling, and eyes followed you from the faces on the wall.
Stepping into the kitchen, you were alone. Pierre had left right after dinner, and Eva had left early with her daughter. You didn’t like to keep them longer than needed, especially on weekends. Your father would pay them the same, anyway – and it was just you here.
You hated the other house. It was no place to live, it was a place of business, for politics. You hated this house too, but for other reasons – too many memories, plastered on smiles and lies. The dentist had told you to start wearing a night guard when they divorced, but you’d stopped wearing it when you went to college.
Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, you made your way over to the fridge. Your whole body felt heavy, your head rolling off your shoulder when something caught your eye in the backyard.
It was gone.
“Shit.”
An ice cube escaped the rim of your glass and split into a thousand pieces on the tiled floor. You pulled your glass from the dispenser in the fridge, and hunkered down, ice melting between your fingers.
With a sigh you watched the splintered ice vanish, dripping in an erratic rhythm that added to the small puddle on the floor. You didn’t want to feel like this. Why were you feeling like this?
You left the glass of ice on the counter– let the ice melt on the floor and escaped through the sliding doors into the backyard. The sky was bright with light pollution over the trees, and everywhere the buzzing of cicadas filled your ears. With a sigh, you fell into one of the chairs, the cushion stiff against your back as your eyes landed on the large oak. You trailed your eyes over the branches, the one’s you’d known every crook and cranny of when you were a child.
It was gone.
The small crooked, and probably dangerous, treehouse where you’d spent so many hours hiding away as a child. Not that they ever noticed, your parents, too busy yelling at each other to see where their daughter had vanished.
Of course it was gone.
Gone, like the happy little girl you’d used to be. And what had taken her place? A party girl? A mess of a woman hiding behind the disguise of a sharp tongue?
Jesus Christ, you needed to get your shit together. Distract yourself– pull yourself away from all the feelings you couldn’t control.
Shifting uncomfortably, you fished your phone from where it had drowned in the cushions. The bright blue light burned your eyes as you scrolled, pulling you from everything real to unreality. Plastered on smiles and perfect bodies, sunny beaches, and aesthetic photos. You handed out hearts like they cost nothing, and pretended you hadn’t seen your DMs.
Still, you couldn’t shake the thought of him. The way the weight of him had felt over you, how he’d spoken, voice rough and commanding, but still playful. It was like you were guided by a puppeteer when your thumb hovered over the google search.
Joel Miller.
You didn’t know what you’d expected – Joel Miller wasn’t a one in a million name, and now you were scrolling through every Joel Miller famous enough to throne at the top of a google search. But, you weren’t going to give up that easily. You moved on to Facebook. He was old, he’d have to have one.
Bingo.
There he was. A few years younger, his hair a little messy, smiling bright. His profile was private, and you sure as hell weren’t sending him a friend request, but something inside you screamed to know more about the man you’d let come inside you less than twenty-four hours ago.
You tried to click your way through his pictures, but there was nothing to see. Next, you tried the about page: Lives in Austin, Texas (this you obviously already knew)… born September 26th… Male… Single… You felt a smile tug at the corners of your mouth, as you continued to scroll... Works for Miller Contracting… And finally, his family: Tommy Miller.
His brother’s profile needed a lesson in internet safety. This man shared everything and all for strangers to see. You flicked through photos of neighborhood cookouts, date nights with his soon to be wife, the same graduation pictures of a girl you’d seen hanging on Joel’s wall.
‘Proudest uncle in the world! Congratulations, Sarah Miller! ����❤️ The smartest and most talented Miller! 🙌’
Your finger hovered over his daughter’s name, curiosity gnawing at your insides. Shaking your head, you clicked away. You could own up to stalking his Facebook, and his brother had basically invited you to stalk, but his daughter? It felt like crossing a line you couldn’t come back from. Back on Tommy’s profile you noticed he also worked for Miller Contracting.
A family business.
Continuing your research, you clicked through to the business’ profile. The profile looked to be run by Tommy, with frequent updates on projects they’d worked on, from renovations to outdoor landscaping, to new condos, Miller Contracting had a broad resume, but the contact person was set to one Joel Miller.
A thought tickled at the back of your brain then, and your gaze flicked from your phone to the low-lit backyard. A smile you couldn’t fight back pulled at your lips.
The sun beat down on the men as they worked. A bright yellow dot in the clear blue sky. From your bedroom window you watched them, how they’d turned the previous green patch of grass into a deep moldy hole.
Convincing your father had been easy enough; he’d shrugged, and given his default answer to pretty much any request you had, which was a bored ‘Yes, sweetie.’ For years now, the rule of thumb with your dad had been: as long as you didn’t bother him and his busy schedule, he didn’t care what you did.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. As long as nothing you did reflected badly on him, and especially on the carefully curated image of ‘loving family man’ his constituents seemed to love so much, he didn’t care. The Governor of Texas couldn’t have his daughter’s bad decisions cost him votes, after all.
Your mother had always said it, always complained over her extra dry martinis, that your father only cared about one thing in his life, and it wasn’t his family. Your face soured as you thought about it.
Votes.
Your mother hadn’t been right about a lot of things in your life, but she had been right about this. Votes, and power. That’s all he’d ever cared about. It had been like that ever since you were a child, and over time, you’d learned to exploit that fact like you would a weakness, holding it as leverage over his head if he ever told you no, which he naturally never did. The agreement was silent, but clear as day; as long as you got your way, you would cater to his image, and behave.
And you did; showed up when needed with a smile that hurt your cheeks, kept up his image, and in turn you got your way.
The swimming pool was just another ask in a long line of wishes. He’d questioned you at first, ‘You want to build a pool in the middle of summer?’ The pool you didn’t care for, it was the men who’d build it. You’d given your father your look, the one where you tipped your head down slightly, bit your bottom lip and looked at him with doe-y eyes. He’d had a landscape architect draw up something for you by the end of the week, and by Monday he’d had the city approve the changes to the premises. He’d given you a rise of his eyebrow when you’d pitched the contractors you wanted for the job, but nevertheless, he’d put his assistant on the job right away.
They’d arrived bright and early this morning, their shouts over loud machines pulling you from your slumber. You’d pulled your pillow over your head, dying to catch some more Z’s, it was summer break after all, but the pull of seeing him again was too strong. The excitement bubbled in your chest, and a satisfied grin spread across your face when you’d realized your plan had worked.
Joel Miller was in your backyard, standing under the oak tree with his hands on his hip, as he carefully watched over his crew. His work clothes fit him just as well as the t-shirt and jeans he’d worn at the club, but he looked less polished– his hair messier with a carpenter’s pencil tucked behind his hair. Your eyes trailed over him from where you watched from the house, how he moved about the site, helped his men when needed, evaluating every step, studying the drawings carefully as he ordered his men around with the same authority you’d come to know him for after the night you’d spent together.
If all of this went well, you’d have him again.
“Looking good, guys! But it’s a bit loud,” you shouted over the excavator, one arm raised to shade your eyes from the sun from where you stood at the edge of the veranda.
You watched how the men milled about, squinting up from their work at you. Their gazes lingered over your body, they weren’t subtle about it, and the little outfit you’d thrown together seemed to do its job, a short summer skirt with a matching top– it was hot out in the Texan sun, and you wanted to make it hotter.
“We’ve been disturbin’ your beauty sleep, princess?” One of the men spoke up, and your eyes narrowed at his use of the pet name. His grin was too confident, hiding his laugh between his teeth. You set your eyes on him and gave him a pitying look.
“Yes, actually! It’s hard work looking this good, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” you snapped back. A sound of snickering laughs from the men at their coworker’s expense could be heard through the yard, and you felt a saccharine smile cover your face.
“So, who’s in charge of all this noise anyway?” you asked, voice bored, when the laughter had died.
“You gotta take that up with Miller,” another one of the men replied, your first victim quickly forced into silence.
“And who’s that?”
The man nodded his head in the direction of the man you’d weaved into your web. He didn’t look impressed where he stood under the shade of the oak tree watching you. He had his arms crossed over his broad chest, the fabric stretching around his biceps, as he shook his head at you as you walked closer.
“Mr. Miller.” You couldn’t help the pleased smile spreading across your face.
Clasping your hands loosely behind your back as you pushed your chest out innocently, you slowly stepped closer, his jaw clenching tighter with each of your careful steps through the grass.
“We’ll try ‘nd keep the noise down f’ya until nine am, Miss, but after that we’ll need to use our bigger tools if ya want this done before the summer ends.” He kept his voice steady and professional, his southern drawl like soft silk in your ears. His eyes never left your face once, even with the deep neckline of your top.
Standing a little too close to him, to be considered appropriate for someone who you’d just met, your teeth caught on your bottom lip coquettishly. “Oh, I want you to use your big tool that’s for sure.” It sounded ridiculous, and you had to bite down harder to keep from bursting out laughing.
Joel didn’t seem to think it was funny. Something flickered in his gaze, before it hardened, eyes boring into yours as he asked you through his teeth, “Whatchu think your doin’, huh?”
You shrugged playfully with an exaggerated sigh, “I don’t know, Mr. Miller, isn’t it obvious?”
“Oh, ‘s obvious alright.” He shook his head in disbelief, and looked away for a beat, before his eyes found yours again.
“It’s so hot out this summer,” you continued your jest with a hooked finger along the hem of your shirt, tugging at it, “I just wanted something to cool down.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, “‘m sure you did.”
Continuing your game, you widened your eyes in an attempt at feigning innocence, “But I don’t mind breaking a sweat if need be.”
“’nd how do you like to break a sweat, princess?” he asked, putting pressure on the nick name his men had given you.
“Oh, I think you already know that, Mr. Miller.”
Joel’s eyes hardened as the flirty words fell from your lips. Shifting his weight from one leg to the other he raised a finger at you. “Listen’ up, brat,” he told you in a lowered voice, “Ain’t nothin’ more happenin’ between us, you understand? It’s inappropriate– you’re my employer and I don’t do that shit.”
It was almost too easy. Biting back a smile, your thoughts wandered back to the last time you’d had him like this; riled up, and willing to put you in your place. A slick wetness coated the gusset of your panties, already, at the thought.
“I understand, Daddy.”
With a sigh Joel turned away from you with a shake of his head, muttering under his breath, “You’re ridiculous.”
You were, he was right. But it was so fun.
A smirk tugged at your lips when he turned back to look at you. He wanted to say something, you could see it in the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hands fidgeting on his hip, but he changed his mind as he shook his head again.
Victory had never tasted so sweet.
All week you’d played a game of cat and mouse with Joel. One day you’d ignored him completely as you flirted with the crew, exaggerating your laugh at jokes that weren’t even close to being funny, and touching too many sweaty biceps to count. Then the next you never left him alone, buzzing like a mosquito in his ear asking all kinds of silly questions, slipping in an innuendo or two, and teasing him for a reaction other than an annoyed grunt.
He’d have to break at some point. You could see it in his eyes. He might play the annoyance up, but there was a softness to the way he looked at you. It was there– you weren’t making that up!
The sound of the juicer buzzed in your ear as you chewed on your lip. Your hand rested lazily on the kitchen counter as you stole glances out the window as you waited. Pierre was quiet as he worked, only throwing a curious glance your way every once in a while, as he mixed together the jug of lemonade you’d requested.
The day had scorched since early morning, and you’d had no choice but to throw on your skimpiest bikini. A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth at the thought – well, there was more appropriate outfits for this heat, but you didn’t want that.
What you wanted, was to get your brains fucked out.
You’d played all your cards right, but nothing had seemed to make Joel simmer over with a need to put you in your place again. In the need for a new plan, you hoped showing off your body to all his men while serving them a nice cold glass of lemonade would do the trick, hoping he’d get jealous. The pool had already started to take shape, and your time was starting to run out.
“Here you go, ma belle,” Pierre slid a newly filled jug of ice-cold lemonade down towards you over the marble, “let me know if you need anything else, yes?”
Nodding your head in gratitude, you lifted the jug onto the tray you’d prepared, “Merci, Pierre.”
Slipping carefully through the sliding doors you made your way across the veranda to place the tray on the outdoor dining table. The tray was heavy, and you moved fast to make sure you didn’t spill the lemonade all over yourself.
“HEY BOYS!” you shouted over the sound of the heavy machinery, waving a lazy hand at them, beckoning them closer like a siren. “I hope you’re thirsty,” you laughed.
A low whistle could be heard as they came closer. Eyes lingering on your skin, trailing over your body as they gathered around the table, helping themselves to the citrus-y delight.
“If this ain’t the sweetest thing I think a client has ever done for us,” Tommy smiled as he helped himself to a glass, “You mind if I take a picture of this setup? To post on our Facebook page.”
You shook your head, “Take as many pictures as you like,” you told him, but your eyes wandered.
Joel had hung back, walking slower behind the rest of his crew, and was finally walking up the couple steps to the veranda. His work boots echoed over the planks as he walked closer. He didn’t seem happy as he locked eyes with you, his eyes quickly rolling over your almost naked body.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, you poured him a glass; the ice cubes splashing as you poured, cold drops splashing and coating the skin of your exposed chest. Joel pretended he didn’t notice, but you saw the way he looked at you. You’d seen that look so many times, eyes hungry and desperate for something they knew they couldn’t have, shouldn’t have. The only difference this time was that you’d let Joel do whatever he wanted to you.
“Here, Mr. Miller–”
Your voice was cut off by the sound of a phone ringing at the loudest volume. The suddenness of the sound made you jump, spilling the glass of Joel’s lemonade all down your hand and chest.
“Yellow,” you heard Tommy shout into his phone.
“Oh, oops,” you said, your voice laced in an innocent laugh. Drops of sticky lemonade ran down your body, darkening the fabric of your bikini, and making your skin shine with wetness under the Austin sun.
Looking up from your body at Joel, your teeth caught on your bottom lip at the way his jaw clenched, his eyes running down your body like they were drops of lemonade. You laughed again, sugary sweet as you made a show of placing the glass on the table, spreading your arms like you didn’t know what to do.
“Y’need to be more careful, sweetheart,” Joel mumbled as he fumbled for some napkins from your tray.
You shook your head at him when he handed them to you, instead you ran a finger up your chest, catching the drops and sucking the cool drink from your fingers, slowly, licking up every drop. It was bold, and you couldn’t contain your giggle when Joel’s eyes widened at you. It was quick, the wave of shock at how blatantly you’d flirt with him like this, before it crashed into the shore with a stern look. The other men had to be looking too, you could feel the way their eyes burned your skin, but you only cared about one man’s warm eyes on your body.
“That was so clumsy of me,” you giggled, the laugh forced and too sweet, but it didn’t matter, Joel didn’t buy it either way.
“’m sorry ‘bout that,” Tommy’s voice boomed, as he hung up the phone, “It was the missus– or soon to be missus.”
“Oh, you’re getting married?” you queried, the lemonade soaking you forgotten now that the moment had been ruined. Beside you, Joel picked up the glass you’d tried to hand him, drying the sides with the superfluous napkins.
“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy beamed, “tyin’ the knot this Saturday in fact.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful,” you smiled, an idea popping up in the back of your head, “Congratulations!”
“Thank you, thank you,” he beamed, taking a big gulp of the lemonade.
“So…” You stepped closer to Tommy, leaning your hand against the table. Joel’s eyes followed you, you could feel it, so you sneakily popped your hips out, giving him a nice view of your ass. “What’s the plan? Big church wedding?”
Tommy laughed, “Don’t know ‘bout big– we’re doin’ one of those barn weddings, you know? Out on a ranch and everythin’, they got it all on those big ranches nowadays.”
“Really?” you smiled, “Which ranch?”
“Oh, it ain’t far! Only ‘bout a fifteen-twenty minutes’ drive from downtown. Pecan Grove Ranch it’s called. They even got these nice cabins on site, for accommodation– which is nice for close family and those who’ve traveled far. You know, Maria’s family ain’t from Texas, so we got lots of folks flyin’ in.”
“Is that her name? Maria?” you asked. The way Tommy’s face lit up when you mentioned her name made your heart squeeze.
“Yeah,” he nodded, “love of my life she is!”
“I need to talk to you.” Joel cut your conversation off while his hand snaked its way around your upper arm, tugging you lightly towards him. When you turned your head to look at him, one eyebrow raised, his face shifted into a deep frown. “’s ‘bout the tiles,” he grumbled.
A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. Finally.
You excused yourself to Tommy, and let Joel drag you with him. Throwing your head back you watched how the rest of the crew enjoyed their small break in the shade sipping on Pierre’s lemonade.
Joel crossed the yard in big steps, making a beeline for the shed tucked away in the back corner of the yard. He pulled at the door harshly, like it couldn’t happen fast enough, and pushed you inside. The door to the shed slammed shut behind him and covered you both in a cool darkness. Your eyes relaxed as you adjusted from the bright daylight to the dim lighting – the only light coming through a small window almost completely overgrown with climbing vines. Joel’s grip around your arm loosened as he pushed you deeper inside.
Taking small steps, you looked around, eyes scanning over the room as a thought of how you couldn’t remember the last time you’d stepped a foot inside the shed crossed your mind. It was hidden away in the corner of the garden, overgrown in a tasteful way, like how you’d see in garden magazines. These days the only person who used it was the gardener, if the miscellaneous tools and garden machines were to be believed.
“Put your hands on the table,” Joel ordered, his voice a low hum.
Outside you could still hear the shouts of his men, laughter, as they lounged about on their break. Every one of his men had seen you step into the shed together, and the thought sent an electric bubbling feeling straight to your cunt.
“Y'got cotton in those ears, girl? Put your hands on the table.”
A shiver traveled through your body, and you had to bite down on your lip to hold back your smile. Finally, finally, finally. With your back turned to him, you shook your head slowly, daring him to put you in your place again.
And Joel took the bait.
His rough hand slid over your waist as he stepped closer. He let it glide across your exposed skin, the dried lemonade sticky as he teased you. His rough hand slid upwards, hooking a finger under your bikini strap, slowly, pulling at it before he unhooked it, letting it fall to the concrete floor.
“Aren’t you gonna behave, princess?” he spat out the new nickname. “Didn’t I teach ya last time what happens when you ain’t a good girl f’me?” The low bass of his voice ghosted over your ear and had your blood buzzing under your skin.
His rough hands continued to explore you, gentle touches over your skin, getting you worked up, but never where you wanted his hands the most. When he pressed himself against you, letting you feel the hard shape of him through his work pants, you let your head fall against his shoulder with a content sigh.
“No, Daddy,” you shook your head.
Joel couldn’t hold back his groan at that word. The gentle hands who’d explored your body, tightened across your chest, pressing you tight into his chest as he bucked his hips harshly into your ass.
“I think I did,” he spoke into your ear, “broke that pretty brain on my cock, didn’t I, and now that greedy cunt wants more, ain’t that right? Can’t get enough of this big cock?”
A breathy gasp escaped you when he bucked his hips against you again, and you shook your head.
“That’s what I thought.”
The speed at which he moved almost gave you a whiplash. He pushed you against the table along the wall, your hands coming down to brace yourself as he pressed your chest down and put your ass, covered only by your skimpy bikini bottoms, on display for him.
“Such a slut for cock she can’t be a big girl and ask for it– no, princess, you’re so desperate for it, you make me come all the way to your rich daddy’s house, bring my crew and everythin’ just so I’ll fuck you again.”
Joel laughed and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together. “That’s ‘nother level of desperate, ain’t it?”
You felt a heat spread across your face at his degradation, but it just turned you on more, and Joel knew it. He trailed a finger down between your cheeks, pressing down to feel how you’d soiled your bikini bottoms in your arousal.
“But that’s just what you are, aren’t you? A desperate whore dyin’ to get fucked?”
The hand between your legs vanished, and you braced yourself for a spanking, holding your breath as the excitement grew, but the slap of his rough hand never came. Instead, he unhooked a rope off the peg board in front of you.
You resisted a little when he grabbed your hands, slipping your hands from his grip playfully, your face turned to watch how his face grew sterner. The tired, disappointed sigh it earned you made you smile.
Gripping both your hands tightly, he crossed one wrist over the other before he tied them together at the small of your back, and you let it happen. Under your skin, the anticipation buzzed. With nothing to help you brace yourself, the hard surface of the table pressed harshly against your naked skin.
“Hey,” Joel’s voice was suddenly gentle as he cupped your face and turned you to face him, “you remember our rules?”
A small ache stung in your heart. Our.
You nodded, “I say ‘red’ or pinch you if I want you to stop.”
A pleased grin spread across his face as he tapped at your cheek gently, “That’s a good girl, baby.”
His hand slid down your body, from your face down your neck, from your neck over your shoulder, and then from your shoulder down your naked back. “How’s this?” he asked, hooking a finger under the rope, “Not too tight?”
You shook your head, or tried to, with the way your cheek was mushed against the table.
“Words, princess, need to hear ya say it f’me.”
The softness in his voice when the pet name left his lips, made a fluttering feeling bubble in your core, and it was hard to fight the grin from pulling at your lips.
“Am I your princess now?” you asked with fluttering eyelashes, “I thought I was your desperate slut?”
Behind you, you could hear Joel let out a deep sigh. A finger traced small circles over your ass, making goosebumps blossom over your skin, before it hooked into the band of your bikini bottoms, tugging them slowly down and exposing your wet cunt to him.
“You know,” Joel sighed again, pausing to let the sound of his fly being undone fill the space between you. You almost moaned at the sound, pushing your ass out, desperate for any kind of friction. “I was plannin’ on bein’ nice t’you, but now…”
The blunt head of him pressed against you, running it up and down your cunt, coating it in your slick arousal, and you almost held your breath. The anticipation like a fist around your chest. Your heart drummed in your chest, almost drowning out the wet slick sound between your legs.
“I don’t want you to be nice,” you almost whispered, your fist tightening around each other at the small of your back.
“I know, princess…” he whispered back, and pushed at your opening, “I know.”
He was too big, the girth of him splitting you in two on his cock. It burned deliciously, and you savored every inch he gave you until he was fully seated inside you. Only then were you able to whimper out a moan, your breath finally released.
His hands gripped your wrists like a handlebar, something to hold on to, something to guide you back and forth on his cock. He pushed himself even deeper, releasing a deep groan in your ear as he leaned over you, the weight of him heavenly as he made room for himself inside you, his heavy balls pressed against you.
This was what you’d wanted. Just to feel him again like this.
“Shit…” you sighed, eyes almost rolling back into your head.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he whispered in your ear, “get a cock in you, and you turn into a good girl f’me.”
You wanted to push back, to give him something to prove him wrong, but you had nothing.
“Please,” you whispered, your eyes squeezed shut tightly.
“Please what, princess?” You could hear the smile in Joel’s low rumbling voice.
“Fuck me, sir,” you pleaded, “Fuck me, Daddy, please.”
“Oh, now she’s askin’ nice.” Joel pulled back and thrusted back inside in one hard thrust, pushing your body against the table, a line surely indented in your skin by now.
A whimper fell from your lips.
Joel started fucking you slowly, but hard, the table rattling with each thrust, one hand wrapped around your wrists to keep his balance. Under him you couldn’t fight back your moans, small content squeaks escaping you when he pressed himself firmly against your ass, burying his cock deeply inside you with every thrust.
“That’s it, slut, that’s a good girl,” Joel praised over you, “takin’ that cock so well, princess.”
The world started blurring around the edges with each thrust, a soft, warm feeling wrapping itself around your heart as he thrusted inside you. You were dying to touch your clit. His cock reached so far, pressing perfectly against your g-spot with each push. You were so close. If you could just touch your clit.
“P-please,” you mumbled lowly, your face scrunched tight as you clenched around his cock.
Joel grunted behind you and stepped away. You could almost cry, and maybe you did because rough pads ran over your cheek as he shushed you.
“No-no-no, it’s okay baby,” he mumbled, “calm down.”
“Please,” you tried again. Please let me come.
“I need you to do somethin’ f’me,” he told you as he guided his cock back to your ruined entrance, slick with want.
“I’ll do anything you ask,” you hurried.
“Anythin’?” Joel rubbed his cock up and down your slit as a slick sound filled the air.
“Anything.”
Behind you, Joel laughed, and pushed inside you again, making a big smile spread across your face.
“Alright, princess,” he said with a hard thrust, “what you’re gonna do f’me is when you feel like you’re close, you’re gonna tell me, tell your Daddy, alright?”
You nodded into the wood, head almost delirious with want, “Okay.”
“You wanna feel my cum inside you, don’t cha, want me to fill y’up to the brim?” His voice was so soft, almost soothing, as he fucked you hard.
“Please, Daddy, want you to come inside me, please.”
A grumbling laugh escaped Joel as he continued his harsh thrust – your skin clap clap clapping together as he hauled you towards the edge of your orgasm. It built deep in your core, coiling in on itself as he brought you closer and closer and closer.
“Joel,” you gasped, “I’m gonna come.”
Quickly, and without warning, Joel pulled out, leaving you trembling, and on the edge.
“No, you ain’t,” he told you sternly, “you’re gonna hold it.”
A rough hand smoothed over your right ass cheek, small taps to your skin reprimanding you as he rubbed his cock over the other, soiling you in your own desperation.
You felt like you were heaving for breath underneath him, eyes squeezed tight as you tried to stave it off.
“That’s it,” he praised, “that’s a good girl. Hold that orgasm f’me.”
Focusing on the way his hand rubbed over your skin, you tried to calm down and steady your breathing. It could’ve taken a minute or an hour, you didn’t know, but the feeling of falling over the edge of bliss fizzled out slowly. Joel leaned over your body, whispering praises into your ear, telling you how good you were for him. When you’d calmed down completely, you lifted your head to look at him, to catch his eyes.
Blown out and big, the warmth of them looked back, a deepness to get lost in. A small smiled tugged at his lips before he leaned down and peppered a soft kiss to your shoulder. It lasted only a second, but it made fluttering wings expand in your tummy.
When he pushed inside you again, your tied hands reached for his. His thrust came quicker than before, sloppier, as he chased his own high, his hand interlaced with yours.
“God fuckin’ slut,” he rambled.
“Takin’ that cock so fuckin’ good.”
“I’m gonna fuckin’ come– gonna fill that cunt up.”
With a hard slam of his hips against your ass, pushing himself as deep as he could, Joel came inside you with a deep grunt. “That’s it– take all that fuckin’ cum inside.” A warmth filled you from the inside as his cock twitch inside you, coating your walls in thick spurts of his cum.
“Good fuckin’ girl,” he mumbled, as he thrusted his cum back inside you, making sure he’d emptied himself completely before pulling out, sliding his softening cock from your denied cunt.
“Joel,” you whispered, but he didn’t hear you, too busy with tucking himself back into his work pants, and pulling up your bikini bottoms, soiling them in his cum starting to leak out of you.
“What about me?” you asked, confused, as he undid the rope around your wrists.
“What ‘bout you?” he repeated, helping you up and turning you to face him.
A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he took in your disappointed face, a large hand coming up to cup your chin. “What?” he teased, “don’t like your punishment?” He padded your cheek and pulled away, picking up your bikini top from the floor.
“’f you’re gonna act like a fuckin’ brat– havin’ your daddy hire me to have an excuse for seein’ me again, when you could’ve just called, then you’re gonna get treated like a brat, you understand? You gotta earn your orgasm, and you ain’t earned yourself nothin’ prancing around half naked in your garden while I’m trying to work, princess.”
With that, Joel threw you your bikini top, and you barely managed to catch it between your fingers before you watched him walk out the shed, leaving you half naked, as his cum leaked down the inside of your leg.
part three -> here!
hopefully this was okay? please let me know what you thought of the new part! a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!
© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#the last of us smut#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fanfic#tlou fanfiction#tlou smut#tlou fanfic#pedro pascal
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I know I've posted bingqiu actors au before but I'm having thoughts for another one..
Shen Yuan only occasionally acts in things he's interested in.. he'll be like "oh I like this book, they better not butcher it!" and then because his family is rich, he'll get a role. People who have never worked with him before hate him at first bc he's a nepotism baby, but then they see his passion and acting skills and go "Oh nvm, he's actually really good... he didn't have to audition like everyone else because he has connections, but if he had auditioned, we would have picked him regardless."
Then there's young binghe playing a minor character.. he's not an actor, nor does he want to be, but child labour laws say he can't get a regular job and he wants to help provide for his mom.. a 14 year old can't work at a fast food place, but movies do need real children to act in them, so that was the only option he had
Shen Yuan is 19 at this point and binghe ADORES him. He brings him food he made at home and shyly waits with bated breath for Yuan gege to say it's good. Shen Yuan helps him with his homework when neither of them are in a scene, and whenever binghe acts really well and the director praises him, he ignores everyone to run to shen yuan and ask if he did well.
When production nears its end binghe says he wants to keep working with Yuan ge!! Shen Yuan isn't working on any other projects though, and the ones he is working on won't hire Binghe.
Everyone is impressed enough with Binghe to help him stay in the industry though, and get him another minor role, then another, then a somewhat important role, then a co-lead... by the time he's in his early twenties, binghe is a household name, and shen yuan is "that actor most people will recognize but don't remember from where."
By the time they finally work together again it's like
Binghe: Yuan gege!!!! I'm so excited to work with you again!!!!
Shen Yuan: haha you remember me! I'm happy :)
Binghe, who borderline stalks shen yuan: haha yes of course I remember gege :))
Shen yuan still gives him head pats like when binghe was a kid and binghe still clings to him. One time shen Yuan gently pushes Binghe away after a tight hug that's gone on too long and says "okay okay that's enough" and binghe looks CRUSHED so shen yuan feels like the devil and pulls him back into a hug immediately
The movie comes out and it's very well received. Binghes acting was the best it's ever been (since he wanted to show off in front of Yuan gege) so people are very interested in seeing the behind the scenes footage
When it comes out people see binghe being OBSESSED with shen yuan. Whenever the two of them are in the same frame, binghe is looking at shen yuan with the softest most loving expression while shen yuan is yelling at the script writer about fan service. There's about 10 moments when Binghe comes up from behind and grabs shen yuans waist and sets his head down on shen yuans shoulder. When people see binghe saying "gege open wide, I made this just for you!" And hand feeding shen yuan they're like okay yeah there's no denying it anymore.
Then they find out this isn't their first time working together and find old bts footage of when binghe was 14 and following shen yuan around like a puppy with hearts in his eyes and they go holy fuck he's been obsessed with shen yuan for YEARS
The cast all go to an interview
Interviewer: people were surprised to see how close you two are!
Shen Yuan: well it's not our first time working together :)
Binghe: I've been waiting to work with Yuan ge again for all this time :D
Interviewer: aww! Now about rumors saying Luo Binghe is in love with shen Yuan...
Shen Yuan: obviously they're-
Binghe: true
Interviewer: ..... oh my
Shen Yuan: um...?
Binghe: Yuan ge is very well aware of my feelings, I was very obvious
*camera pans over to shen yuan where his face is red and his mouth is wide open in shock*
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What if reader is the insane one..😳I love these yandere characters but what if reader--
❝ 𝚰'𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐀���𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝚰𝐕𝐄 𝚰𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞
FEATURING. GOJO SATORU, NANAMI KENTO, TOJI FUSHIGURO, GETO SUGURU
CONTENT WARNINGS. yandere reader + angst + gore + murder + enabler characters + body mutilations + stalking + torture + blood + mind games? + manipulation + gaslighting + rushed writing + implied established relationship + unhealthy relationship dynamics
NOTES. hiya anon! you got a brilliant mind that tickled myself into writing this one. yandere reader is absolutely a first to me considering the characters i wrote are the yandere ones. i apologize for the shitty writing.
SYNOPSIS. you hate the attention they get and the adoration you shared with the people that surrounds both of you and it's up to you to take care of those who threatens your love for them.
GOJO SATORU
satoru is truly mesmerizing.
everywhere you go with him around. everyone stops and looks to stare at the man besides you. mouth agape, with their eyes glimmering with awe from how handsome he looks. who wouldn't admire him? he's everything. blessed from the moment he was born. tall with the hair white as snow and you know he's the only one in the whole world with it. he's godly and so you worship him. a devotion from a mortal to his immortal lord.
he keeps you close. his hands tangled into yours while you both walked in the streets of harajuku. he wants to try they new crepe stand with you and you smile a bit. admiring his sweet tooth that needs to be satiated.
being with gojo means that he attracts the people who's walking in the same street as him. women craning their necks to get a glimpse of him and those who dared to get close to him which is happening right now.
she's pretty. they all are. every woman who approach satoru were the same mold where they come from. petite with tiny waists and a delicate body. small faces with glitters in their eyes while they flutter their eyelashes on him. hoping that satoru would leave you for them and they don't even notice you. these are the consequences and you try to pry your hand on his but he tightens on his grip while he declines the offer. he didn't budge not when she traces her fingers to his chest.
it breaks your heart when girls like her would openly flirt with him and treats you like nothing. you understand that you weren't them, you didn't know why he was with you! you want to cry and hide from them and to him. you don't deserve him. no one deserves him and so you pull your hands but he still keep his hold tight in you and with a scowl, he says the most bone chilling tone of his voice. “leave me and my girlfriend alone.” and it's enough for her to stop flirting to him and that's the time she will realize you were there the whole time and she would shot you a glare and a million insults are running inside her head and you're not able to know it cause satoru's dragging you away from her and keeps a protective hand over you. “only look at me, pretty.” is what he says and it turns your frown upsidedown.
there's a cry and then a snap. her bone cracks under the weight of the hammer being slammed to her hands. that's what you get for touching satoru. you pull a hidden knife strapped in your boots. unsheathing it in with precision and twirling the handle. “please... i'm sorry....” you hear her say it but she was never sorry. she let her speak out her mind and flirts with someone who's clearly committed. promiscuity left a foul taste in your mouth. she can get all flirty with your boyfriend and she would be praised for being suited to him while you, you get the side glances, faces etched with disbelief why someone like you would score someone like gojo.
she's so pretty, like the models in the magazines and on billboards which you cried in front of it. wishing that you were them but it never occurred to you once again since satoru came into your life. you never wished anything something as shallow like that again cause you were enough for him and that's what it matters and this bitch had come to ruin it for you. you despised destroying that is something beautiful but it was her sin, she should have never tried her luck with gojo and so with a tight hold in the handle, the sharp edge of the knife pierced in one of her eyes.
her screams are loud. wailing and screaming for someone to help her but there's no one around here. it's only you and her. the blood come pouring in her eye socket and you pull the knife and you were splattered with her blood. staining your cheek. it was warm. fresh and you smell it.
“satoru's really handsome and you wondered at that time why he was with me.” your look is solemn, no remorse in them and she's forced to listen to your spiel while she tried to staunch the blood flowing from her once pretty eye. “i don't know.” you whispered. dragging the edge of your knife to her rosy cheek. nicking the skin and blood poured out from them. “i don't know why satoru is with me.” you repeated it. your own eyes getting glossy. “he could have left me and have gone to you in a heartbeat but he didn't. he stayed. he stayed.” you whisper it like it was unreal and the tears came pouring out. you sniffle and sob. cause it was too good to be true.
“can you let me go now?” she begged of you. watching you bawl your eyes out while the knife you were holding drips with her blood. it's a lesson she's going to learn is never to flirt with someone who have their girlfriend by their side. a crazy one it is but it's too late for her now. you were harmless with a touch of innocence but she never thought you were capable of doing this. she can't move her hands, both broken from being shattered by the hammer and she's closing her destroyed eye to keep the blood from pouring out. “no.” wiping the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand, you sniffle. “i can't let you go. you're going to ruin another relationship cause the man's tickled your fancy. you deserve to die.” and she prayed for whatever deity to come save her cause you're raising your hand which holds the knife and it's going to be the end of her but she's not ready to die. she wanted to live and so she prayed and prayed and her prayer were heard.
there's the sound of footsteps nearing in where she lays and where you stand, about to end her life. she lets out a cry. her tears streaming down her face cause she was about to be saved. she was crying in relief cause she's about to escape this hell but it was replaced in horror when she sees who have seen you. it couldn't be but he won't like it, would he? his girlfriend's murdering people. girls like her.
something was up with you. he knows it. the underlying insecurities in which you evaded when he asks and brings the topic up. you only distract him and pretends there's nothing wrong and he let it slide. there's multiple killings happening in the area and coincidentally it's been the girls whom he interacted with. the ones who flirted with him. he could have returned the gesture but he's committed to you. anyways, he began to suspect you and later confirmed it was really and he thought he's the deranged and the unstable one in the relationship. as if he's not done the same things you did.
there is something sad about your crying about your relationship. he stayed. you repeatedly spoke of it like you can't believe that he lasted so long to you and you have been eliminating the girls who have threatened your relationship with him. he can't let you go on this path of destruction just for him. it's his job.
you were about to finish the girl and he interrupted. “you don't need to do this, angel.” he watch as your shoulders tense. recognizing his voice that it returned you to sane state. hands trembling, you slowly turn around to see him behind you. just standing. you gripped the knife tightly while your body quivered like a leaf. slowly you faced him. your head hung low. ashamed from what monster you turned out to be. a monster made from your insecurities and fear.
“i didn't want to. she's going to ruin things and i'm sorry.” you explain to him. surely, he won't side with her, right? everything so wrong about it. “help.” she croaked out to get his attention and he crouches to inspect her. he clicks his tongue. shaking his head in faux sympathy. “she got you good, huh? don't worry it won't last long.” he says and then stands to deal with you.
“look at me.” he softly mutters to you. holding your soft jaw for you to look at him and you cry again. his blue eyes is enough to make you cry. everything about him makes you cry. he's too good to you. he shushes you. “don't cry. don't cry, angel.” he coos at you. wiping your tears with his thumb. caressing your round cheeks and cups your face. oh, his pretty angel. looking so good in red. the blood smeared in your cheeks suits you well.
“it's okay. i also did it when somebody looks at you the way i do. those who harmed you and i'm going to do it again.” and with a raise of his hand. the woman lying in the ground lets out a noise. a choking sound and then gurgles. you look at her. watch as the ground stained with red. the gash in her neck pours out liters of blood. “see. no one's going to harm you. i'm here for you, my angel.” kissing your forehead while the cold body of hers slowly bleed out.
“i'm yours?” you ask him. he nods. “only yours, my beloved.” gojo assures you with a smile and he melts at the sight of your worries dissipating. if only it could stay like this forever. oh, it will. he won't allow it again for someone to ruin you and doubt yourself again. “let's go home.” he says before picking you up and cradles you in his strong arms. pulling you closer to his and you placed your chin in his shoulder and peered over at his shoulder to see her dead. good for her. now she won't ruin anything. you smile in a contented manner and satoru hums. glad, his beloved is at peace in his arms.
NANAMI KENTO
there's the act of loving someone who is on the verge of breaking.
of how him, nanami kento managed to keep his lover at bay. the danger of someone who's mentally incarcerated. a prisoner of their thoughts that there's a day that doesn't go by without thinking of him and only him. love should be unconditional, the deep part in his brain says and nanami agrees with it.
who knew, his wallflower of a colleague can be this dangerous. he watched you from your quirks down from the littlest of it. the blonde concludes that you were no threat. your round face possessing the most innocent of looks and it looks like you could cry at the tiniest of criticism. has eyes like an angels and the tears flowing like dew drops from how they roll down your cherubic cheeks. you were every bit what nanami can think of and it's ironic how you can muster the look of it despite being caught in the act. the coldest a person is capable of.
the workplace can be toxic as it can and nanami was no stranger to unnecessary criticisms of the higher-ups from his works. it wasn't perfect nor inadequate and somehow he still get caught particularly from one who's in a bad mood and so he takes the blow off it. revise what it's needed to be revised or he can do it all again. no big deal but to certain someone who's been admiring him for months, it wasn't an excuse of a behavior.
her beloved being treated like that, it isn't acceptable. you knew how hard your beloved worked for that. he even pulled an all nighter! you stayed with him when he did that from the safety of your own cubicle and how dare that asshole to blow him off like that. not appreciating his efforts and making him redo it all again. he should be punished. no one's allowed to treat your beloved like that. he needed to learn and he's about to learn his lesson from a accident. sure, a accident. you can make it look like one.
the fucker have been staggering. it was his obvious from how he walks across from the office and is slurring and when he's near in the emergency exit with the hundred of stairs waiting for him, you followed him. no one ever noticed you and they wouldn't even suspect what you're about to do. thanks to the prescribed medication you have and the cup of coffee that did the job. caffeine isn't something you can fuck up with certain medicines.
he didn't even noticed you behind him and with push. shoving him a little to hard, he fell. rolling down the stairs like the trash but it wasn't enough. you hear the thud and soft clanging of metal and was it that something broken, a bone? you hope so. it wasn't enough but it simmered the anger boiling in your system and with a sigh, you left but before you can take a step, you notice him.
from the looks of it, he wasn't mean to be in this situation and he just walked in and seeing the blank look on his face is enough to bring you in tears. lips trembling with sharp baited breaths. now you've done it! you're a monster! a hideous being standing in front of him like a deer caught on headlights. he's going to hate you now. you just know it and you hate yourself for it.
in turns of an event, one you didn't expect. you were engulfed in his arms and nanami saying he was sorry for making you do this. that it was his fault and how much it killed him that you're harming others for the sake of him. his own creation that can't be tamed without him and you cried, a little harder. this is what you've been wanting for a long time and then, nanami starts to question his own morals.
nanami loves you, truly. that he was willing to overlook the deeds that you had done in the past no matter how grave it was all. an attempted murder of a colleague, the almost absolute death of someone who shouldn't got closer to him.
it's wrong and he knows about it all but he's long gone to get past through it when he have you. it was just a lapse of judgement of why you did that and the reasoning and the planned medication for you to tone down the impulse of hurting someone and hurting yourself, he couldn't beat that and so, he keeps you in his arms. in which you will never do anything cause you'll disappoint him.
a routine was born from it. you both agreed on it that while he works, you will be home. tending all the chores and freely being able to do whatever you want and you'll wait for him after work and he'll be on his office. signing papers and dealing presentations like a regular employee but sometimes it wasn't enough.
what if there's a coworker who flirts with him? what if he falls for them? what if he finds them interesting more than you? what if he finds attractive and will you just be thrown aside for this new woman he'll have? all these questions running in your mind and it sends your heart beating fast and your brain formulating into a hundred thoughts of how you can get rid of them who threatens your relationship with him.
you have the ring but it wasn't enough.
so when he got home, nanami sensed that you're having those thoughts again. plaguing you with every waking thought and possibility that he'll leave you cause you were too much and he wants someone stable and love isn't enough to keep this relationship afloat so he assured you. the only thing that will put your mind at ease.
“do you not want me anymore, kento?” you mutter softly. your head on his lap while he stroke your hair. moving to face him and look the sharp jawline of his in this angle and so you can see what his reaction at your question. there's a brief pause and his touch seems to stiffen up before relaxing.
hazel eyes meets your own and nanami smiles at your question. “i'll always want you, darling.” it's terrible cause you know it's not a lie and you easily melt at his words. he's so patient that no matter what question you have stored for him he knows the right words to say to you.
strange for a man to say the things that felt wrong to say to a human like you. unstable and was ready to break at any more but somehow he gets by. he's not blind to your acts. to your tendencies that is beyond normal for anyone to understand and when he sees your slowly dozing off at his touch. his voice like lullaby to you that is where the time where he will continue to judge himself. why he allowed himself to be with you but it's out of the questions. of the what-ifs and other uncertainties.
in this madness where he will stay cause he just loves you so much.
FUSHIGURO TOJI
the heavy rain didn't deter you from staring at his windows. watching his silhouette move and whatever shit he was doing. with the rain drops at your rain coat and splattering you with a splash of the water, you didn't dare to move from your hiding spot. not wanting to missed the life he was living and you were contented with it.
god, you haven't interacted with the man and you're this head over heels for them when the closest you get is being able to sit a few tables behind him and you can make the every details of him. from the twitching of the scar on the corner of his lips and hear that voice of him. you were a goner.
you didn't dare to get near to him. not yet. you have a plan for it and that would begin tonight.
there wasn't anything special in this place he calls home. devoid of anything personal and it was like it has been abandoned and is a shelter to whoever hoodlum that decided to hole here but despite that it's his. in the past few months you have followed him. there hasn't been a change of his habits. disappearing for days and then comes back.
how heavenly. the apartment's a dump but your infatuation didn't mind. as a special gift and successfully infiltrating this home of his, you will be doing something special to him. you cleaned this apartment of him. inhaling the cleaned shirts of his and laid on his futon where his scent lingers. you made the most of it and then you left. with a thought that you'll be visiting him once again.
something's wrong and it was the most obvious. he got a visitor. he wasn't the most neat and can manage this dump of a apartment of his and yet, he comes home to a clean house. his laundry done. dishes are washed and neatly stacked and the trash that's been scattered are nowhere to be found. to whoever been doing this tasks to him, he made sure to thank them and he left with a smile on his face.
there's a prickling feeling in your nape. hairs rising, a sign of an impending danger and your gut tells you the same but what could happen? you're just going to visit like the hundred times you did. bask in the scent of his comforters, take what somehow valuable trinkets that reminds you of him and put them in your little shrine of him and then you would go but all your senses says that you shouldn't continue. clenching the raincoat you have on, you slowly backed away in the street whereas you can see his house and then you hear a voice.
“cancelling your own little visit, huh?”
your eyes widens at the comment and recognizing the voice where it belongs to the man who has been the subject of your love. “don't worry about it, i made a quick trip to your own and what a coincidence, i also did that.” your blood runs cold at how the tables have turned. you're the one being hunted right now.
he wasn't lying. similar to the shrine you have for him, he also had one. your pictures in similar places where you have been stalking him, it's everywhere and more detailed. close up shots of your face, your own personal belongings displayed and you think you're the one who have been going this obsession. hiding in that secret room of his of where you didn't found and you say he's predictable with his routine.
toji trails the curves of your body with his hand. a squeeze there and then a pinch while he stands behind you. his tongue came licking the scar in the corner of his mouth and then leaning to take a lick the shell of your ear. he almost shivers at your reaction. mirroring it and watch as the disbelief painted on your face.
“i'm not the only one, sweetheart. in exchange for your daily visits to mine. do you mind having you for me?” he whispers and he chuckles at your reaction. speechless as you can be. “very well. don't mind me then.”
GETO SUGURU
the chunks of human flesh or whatever remains of them came splattering. a thunk then a thud upon hitting the ground. splashes of blood covering the walls and you were showered from it. the sensation of their blood to your bare skin feels like a burst of rain on a summer day. there wasn't even a tremble nor a slight quiver of your clenched fist, only a contented smile on your face having the deed done. it was a quick death for them and a quiet one. there's no pleading for mercy nor a cry, only a mumble of prayers. calling whatever deity they know or repenting for the sins they've committed. good. it should be. it's already a sin to defy geto.
they know it, of course. it was bad enough that they didn't have an ounce of cursed energy and was only good at donations and yet, it wasn't enough not what they demanded in exchange for it. the nerve on them to want more for geto and thus, the execution. it was the easiest task since you've joined geto's little family. whatever he wants, you obliged to it. it's your duty. you share the same beliefs with him and it's for a good cause. the eradication of whole non-jujutsu sorcerers will be the good of all. now, you need to focus to remove the filth of their blood clinging to your skin. you don't like when you're covered by it and be seen with it by suguru. you know how much he despises the stench of them monkeys.
there's a huge grin plastered on his face. his deep purple eyes glinting in satisfaction at what you have done. he didn't even need to order you and you're doing a good job minus the filth that is covering you. he find it scenic as he watched you above where he stand in some post. his robe moving gently along with the breeze. no one had made him feel strongly like you did and it was indeed the best decision for him to let you join in his cause.
a soft gasp left your mouth when you've seen him, standing in front of your own room. geto chuckles at your reaction. “forgive me, geto-sama if you need anything. i need to clean myself before serving you.” you say in a timid manner. aware of your unkempt appearance and the dried blood isn't so pleasant sticking in your skin anymore and you smell like death. it was embarrassing to be seen by this by geto. he dismisses your theory with a laugh. “no need for formalities, (y/n).” the way your name is spoken by him is enough to make your stomach flutter. “allow me to help you. i know how tasking it can be to rid of someone.” your face are warm by his statement. “i appreciate the thought, geto-sama but i'm covered by blood from head to toe and i don't want to taint you with it.” you said and he was quick to smile. “nonsense. you're my family and it's my job to take care of you.” he said and you loved him more than anything. “if you insist.”
the water turned a dark shade of red and then slowly turning into a muddy color of pink as it slowly disappears in the drain. you were greatly embarrassed even when you're fully submerged in the tub full of warm water. his touch electrifying to your skin and it took you a great control to not flinch and your body is covered with flaws. despite the insecurities plaguing you, you relished in his touch. it's not like every day he helps you with this kind of menial task and him taking care of you.
geto knows he have that effect on you and also to him. his gaze unknown to you is filled with hunger. it's only an excuse to touch you like this when all he wants to do is pounce on you and make you say the things you will gladly say to him. your body is now clean. devoid of any stains from that monkey and is replaced with the sweet scent of soap. you remained silent the whole time he bathed you. basking on the glow of his warmth and touch that you so deeply craved from him. “say, (y/n)....” he trails off in his sentence. you hum in response. “will you do anything i ask of you?” there's a ripple from the water when you moved. shifting and turning around to meet his gaze. “everything. i will eliminate everyone who stands in your way and will do all of your bidding. you don't need to ask. i'll do anything.” you say without hesitation. your eyes brimming with faithfulness to him and he felt a little stupid to ask you that when you're willingly offering yourself to him. grasping your soft jaw with his fingers, he look deeply in your eyes and then without hesitation, his lips meet yours and it was a deal. sealed with a kiss.
#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader#gojo x reader#jjk#jjk angst#yandere x chubby reader#yandere x reader#yandere reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk gojo#nanami kento x reader#jjk nanami#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#toji fushiguro#toji x reader
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≡;-꒰ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍
╰┈➤ ❝ zayne x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni
tags : softdom!zayne, husband!zayne x wife!reader, reader has body insecurities and negative thoughts, kissing, heavy petting, body worship, praise and reassurance, nipple play, clit play, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, soft sex, slight dirty talk, slight cursing, use of pet names "sweetheart" "snowflake", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))
wc : 5.4k
youtiful masterlist
You couldn't sleep.
It was late; later than late—you knew that once Zayne got home, you would definitely be reprimanded for your sleeping habits again.
But how could you sleep like this?
The day had kept you restless.
Tara had proposed another one of her gala nights this afternoon, having practically spammed your texts with an invite for next week. She was quite adamant in this one, considering it was the only time that everyone seemed to be free enough at the same time, and of course, it went without saying that you were invited. But Tara wanted it to be extra special—to make up for all the lost time, and to make the most of the moment, because who knew when you all could get together like that again?
And you couldn't really argue with her on the matter; she had a good point. Though Tara and you saw each other often enough, both being the senior hunters that you were, schedule clashes were becoming more and more common. Suffice to say, it was even harder for the two of you to get ahold of the other girls you'd become close friends with over the years. Adulting was hard, sometimes.
So naturally, this was, as she put it, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, one worthy of a little extra—and while exaggerated, in typical Tara fashion, you could definitely see where she was coming from.
You wanted to meet with the girls, just as much as she did.
But formal events had never been your favorite.
Earlier in the afternoon, you had spent your lunch break with Tara in favor of scouring for the perfect new outfit for that night out. "Window shopping only, for now, of course!" she had said, none too keen on spending right from the get go, but excited to scan all the options nonetheless. And perhaps, you, too, had been excited along with her—Tara's energy was always contagious, and she knew exactly how to string people along with her in all of her happy-go-lucky skip-throughs. But soon enough, you were quickly reminded as to why you disliked formal events so ardently.
It was the clothes.
While many girls you knew jumped at the prospect of dressing up a little fancier, it was hard for you to love—you never saw yourself as someone with a body shape that could easily fit into these fancy clothing, and you had always been jealous of the girls around you that did. You weren't exempt from the same desire to dress up, of course, but—it was simply harder to enjoy when it has only ever caused your confidence to dwindle.
You, yourself, had never really voiced out your insecurities.
You didn't know if the girls knew, nor if Tara had figured out why you were so hesitant to try things on with her.
But whether or not you spoke about it or showed it at all, it did nothing to change the reality that those thoughts were there.
In truth, you hated it.
Despised it.
You never thought yourself to look good in those form-fitting clothing; never thought yourself to look good in a dressed up skirt. If anything, it was hard for you to feel comfortable in such clothing at all—and shopping for them was always a pain.
You wanted to meet with the girls.
You did, you really did.
But suddenly Tara's little cocktail dinner party was more daunting to you than you'd have liked it to be.
Naturally, by the end of your little mall adventure, Tara had found herself a few options to go back, revisit and, perhaps, buy for that very night... While you remained blank on your choices.
The mere thought had you sinking even deeper into the duvets, never more grateful for the fact that you were covered and unseen under the thickness of them.
Your mind was simply racing too much.
You, too, wished you could just sleep all of your thoughts away, and maybe, maybe, the morning will be more bearable.
...If only.
You haphazardly brought the duvet over your head, burying yourself completely hidden under them, and let out a whine.
Zayne would probably be home in a few moments.
He would see you like this, very much wide awake despite all his texts having insisted you not to wait up for him, already on the verge of crying from the sheer intensity of your less-than-welcome thoughts.
You didn't know how much he knew of all this, either.
Though you had been together for a couple years, married for roughly one—the topic had simply never come up. You hadn't explicitly told him anything about it; you'd simply managed enough through all the other formal events you'd had to attend.
You didn't want to be a baby.
In the end, you knew that this would pass, and you would get through it just fine like you always did—
Only that, somehow, today, it was worse than all the other days.
The thought of trying to get through this like you normally would only made your heart churn with discomfort, tears welling up in your eyes unwarranted.
Fuck.
Your lips quivered.
You didn't want to cry.
Zayne would be getting home from a long day.
He would be tired.
He would want to sleep.
He had an equally early start to the next day, and you couldn't—
You couldn't possibly bother him with petty problems you could solve on your own.
You always have, anyway, right?
Why should now be any different?
You heard the door click gently, followed soft, careful footsteps padding the floor to the room—
The minute the doorknob turned and you could vaguely make out the brief flicker of light, you shut your eyes tightly and turned to the side.
You had to sleep.
You had to sleep.
You swallowed thickly as you heard the faint rustle of fabric, the lightest clink of a hanger meeting its clothesrail, and the shifting of weight on the mattress.
Though you were under the blankets, you could feel the telltale warmth of your husband beside you, enough for it to have some form of comcort wash over you in an instant.
Perhaps, too much comfort.
You felt a tear roll down your cheek, and you drew in a careful, shaky breath.
Of course, Zayne, of all people, would never miss the slightest of cues from you.
"Sweetheart?"
There was a soft murmur of his voice over the top of your head, and you felt the duvet being slowly peeled off of.
There was a rush of cooler air over your face, and Zayne's arms wrapped around you, pulling your body closer to his.
...Ah, shit, you instantly surrendered, knowing there would be no way to play it off, only willing for those stupid tears in your eyes to magically disappear.
"You're awake, aren't you? It's not healthy to sleep under the blankets like that."
His voice was soft, and gentle, and he placed a light kiss into your hair.
You swallowed thickly.
"H-how was your shift...?"
You winced internally, thinking the waver in your voice was already a very telltale sign.
And as you were met with momentary silence, you figured you had been right.
Zayne shifted around, gently pulling you backwards against him, just enough for him to see your face.
And the moment your eyes locked, it was almost as if you couldn't take it anymore.
His lime-green eyes regarded your own with concern, and affection, and love—
It was almost as if all and any emotions swimming restlessly in your heart overflowed in an instant, and you couldn't think to stop the tears from falling. Choked sobs edged their way out of your throat, completely ignoring the horror at your sheer inability to control your own emotions.
You were so... pitiful. So pathetic.
You'd promised yourself you wouldn't cry in front of him over this, and yet, here you were.
Insult after insult swirled adamantly in your head as you turned, burying your face into his chest, desperately searching to anchor yourself in his warmth.
"What is it, snowflake? Are you unwell? What's wrong?" He murmured into your hair, soft, soothing rubs against your back, holding you tight against him—and you didn't feel like you deserved any of it. You wanted yo shy away from his gaze, from his touch—but the mere thought of such irrationality had you sobbing harder, berating yourself for even daring to doubt him at all.
You shivered in his arms, shaking your head, willing yourself to calm down.
And, perhaps, to you, there was no greater comfort than having him here with you.
Despite the conflicts in your mind—whether or not you were deserving of all of his affection—Zayne, and his sweet whispers of comfort, his reassuring squeezes, his loving caresses... Time and time again, you would never fail to find solace in his arms.
Now was no different.
Zayne always had that effect on you, and, perhaps, you wondered if maybe you should have considered opened up to him about this much sooner.
Now, at least, it was enough for you to steady your breaths, eyes closing, your own arms shifting to hug him back.
"Talk to me, sweetheart," he said, running a hand through your hair, soothing you through your sniffles. "It's bad to go to bed with negative feelings. Won't you tell me what's wrong?"
He didn't push you away, nor egg you to look back up at him, but you could easily hear the concern in his voice.
You shut your eyes tightly.
"...But you're tired," you whispered. "It's silly, Zayne..."
"It is not silly, not if it can make you cry."
This time, he brought his hand to your cheek, caressing it gently, and you tilted your head upwards to meet his gaze. "I didn't see you all day, snowflake," he nuzzled your forehead. "What happened to make you so upset while I've been absent?"
You pouted, already feeling another set of tears prick at your eyes, though you blinked them away rapidly.
"I... I missed you," you said quietly. And it was the truth, just not—all of it. It wasn't as if you planned on lying to him—what kind of a wife would you be if you did?
But you wouldn't have known where to start on this otherwise.
It was still true, anyway.
You'd missed his presence; you almost wished you had spent your lunch break with him like you normally did, and, perhaps, that way you wouldn't be feeling so down in the dumps like this.
But what was done was done.
"I missed you, too, sweetheart." He brushed the tears away from your face, and leaned down to place his lips on your temple, causing you to close your eyes at the gentleness in his every action. "But it's more than that, isn't it?"
Ah, a faint, barely-there smile made its way to your face. Zayne always knew you so well.
You let out a sigh, feeling yourself move in to chase his lips, hopeful for a more proper kiss that you had, in fact, been missing for most of the day.
While he allowed you to steal one, his eyes were expectantly searching yours.
You faltered, like you always did.
"...There's... a cocktail party next week..." You started quietly, moving to lay back on your back, eyes focusing on the ceiling above. "Tara planned it just this afternoon. A girls' outing."
"Did she? It's been a while since you've had those."
"...Yeah."
You turned to look at him, another tiny pout forming on your lips. "I just... I don't know if I want to go..." You leaned into his touch when he brought his hand back to cup your cheek, a familiar, comforting action he would often do with you.
"If you don't, then you shouldn't," he spoke matter-of-factly.
You let out a soft laugh.
It was a very Zayne-typical answer.
"Right, because it's always that simple," you rolled your eyes playfully. "...I wish it was, anyway. Zayne, I haven't seen them in forever..."
"Forever would be an exaggeration..."
You could almost hear the frown in his voice, but for a while, you didn't say anything else.
"...Sweetheart?"
Another gentle squeeze of your arm, and your eyes searched his, feeling your throat close up at truly admitting the source of your problems.
But you should, right? This was... communication. The both of you had always valued it; you couldn't just... go back on your own promises to him.
...It might have made you hate yourself more if you did.
"Zayne... I— I want to, but..."
You paused, taking in a deep breath, averting your gaze once more. Your lips quivered again, and Zayne's immediate reaction was to give you another soft, gentle kiss. Now, you could only close your eyes, focusing instead on the lingering feeling of having his lips upon yours, if only to keep yourself from breaking into tears yet again.
"I-I don't feel like I... Like my body very much, these days..." Your voice came out barely a whisper. "It's a formal event, right? Fancy dresses and all that... I went window-shopping with Tara today, and, I—"
Your breath got caught in your throat, and you shook your head, moving once more to bury yourself into his chest.
"I don't know, Zayne... Maybe, I think I just feel—hard to love, right now, or something. And it's so stupid. I know that you love me, I know that the girls do, and I've never questioned it, I just—I don't feel like I'm pretty enough to be loved, and..."
You clutched him tightly as more of your tears seemed to fall without your consent at all, your own heartbeat thrumming wildly in your ears just painfully hyperaware of just how pathetic you were being.
And you've been feeling pretty darn pathetic for virtually the entire day.
You really couldn't tell if crying was making you feel any better, either—you'd held it together this whole day up until now, but each and every time you spoke, it was almost as if the tears wouldn't stop. Even as he sighed into your hair, even as he hald you close, even with his soft, feathery kisses over the top of your head.
"Don't cry, snowflake," he murmured, gently rubbing your back. "Here, breathe with me. Relax, alright, sweetheart?"
You swallowed your sobs, settling slowly into whimpers and then slowly into hiccups, focusing on the steady movements of his palm against the silk of your nightgown.
"That's it. Breathe, okay?"
You sniffled as you looked up, pouting visibly, and he reached over to wipe your tears away once more, shifting to press his forehead against yours.
"Sweetheart. Have you been feeling this way for some time now?"
His eyes were intense. They carried within them was an emotion you couldn't quite place. It was almost as if it had swirled into a complicated mix, almost as if desperate to pull you out of your self-deprecating reverie; only giving way to a certain kind of sorrow when you feebly nodded your head.
"Oh, snowflake," he whispered, and the genuine regret that was laced into his voice made your heart thrum. "If only you had told me sooner."
"...M'sorry, Zayne..."
"Why do you apologize? I only wish to make you feel loved. Because I do love you. And I think you are the most beautiful, beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon."
His words felt weighty on your heart, nd you had to swallow down, for the nth time that night, that very same desire to cry.
"...Zayne..."
This time, he kissed you—soft, and slow, and gentle; not unlike most of his kisses, but laced with a certain passion that almost seemed to drown out all the fragments of disdain still in your mind. His hand moved up to your hair, his other drawing you even closer against him, the heat from his skin becoming ever more noticeable to you.
When you pulled back from his kiss, eyes dazed and mildly breathless, he traced his fingers over your face—from your eyes, to your nose, to your mouth, to your jaw... And down, over your collarbone, over the skin of your upper arm.
"You are beautiful, sweetheart," he repeated. And he stroked your arm, never once taking his eyes off of you.
For the first time that night, you thought—yeah. Maybe I am beautiful.
His hand, then, moved from your arm over to your clothed breast, grazing over the exposed skin peeking out of your now-disheveled nightgown, before trailing down to your stomach—and your hips—and your thigh—
You let out a shaky breath, your eyes moving downwards to watch as his hnd repeated the same motions, steadily feeling yourself relax into the lull of his caresses.
"Your hips," he mumbled. "Your stomach... your thighs... your arms... your breasts..." Zayne leaned over to kiss the tip of your nose, offering you the smallest of smiles. "Your cheeks. Your lips. Your nose, your eyes, your..."
"—Z- Zayne—"
"...Everything." His voice dropped low into a whisper, his hand slipping right between your thighs, brushing a knuckle against your clothed heat.
He nuzzled against you, sighing.
"You're beautiful, my snowflake. And I love every single part of you. Do you understand?"
You could only nod underneath his gaze, staying completely still as he moved his arm down to settle firmly over your waist, his eyes conveying a certain desire that was quite familiar to you.
"...Zayne," you mumbled. "A-aren't you sleepy?"
"No."
"But... You always say it's bad to stay up late..."
He gaze was unwavering; firm, yet expectant. You could feel his thumb rubbing circles into your skin, and when he lened back in to whisper over your lips, you could feel yourself dizzy at his hot breath against you.
"Maybe so," he whispered. "But you are more important right now. And if you would allow me, sweetheart... Then I, as your husbnd, would want nothing more than to show you just how much I love you."
Your breath caught in your throat.
His hand, now, would slide up ever so slowly, tracing the curvature of your spine, and you shuddered—
"Okay," you spoke, breathless, quiet, waiting in anticipation of his movements.
And when he smiled, you thought, truly, you couldn't wish for a more loving husband.
"May I know?" he mumbled as he gently moved the fabric of your gown up above your breasts. "What about your body do you hate so much?"
He stopped when you shivered involuntarily against the cold air on your stomach, subconsciously moving your arms over to cover yourself.
You looked away.
"I understand if you do not want to talk about it. If it's too much, then please, forget I as—"
"...I'm not slim, like the other girls," you cut him off softly.
Zayne's hands gently pried your own away from your stomach, bringing one of them up to kiss at your knuckles.
For a while, there was silence, and you shrunk under his gaze.
What if he also...
"You don't have to be," he interrupted your thoughts with a nod of his head, having finally gathered his thoughts, and his other hand moved back to stroke the side of your waist.
"...But... I-I don't fit well into dresses... My torso is long, and my figure isn't very flattering, my belly fat would show if I—"
He moved lower, this time, to place a trail of kisses from the valley of your breasts down over your navel.
"Z-Zayne..."
"You must understand that I think your figure is very flattering, sweetheart. You've always looked stunning in everything that you've worn. Don't you know how much self-control I must practice whenever I see you?" A smile tugged at his lips, and you almost shivered at the look in his eyes, goosebumps raising on your skin when he snaked his hand over to the plush of your inner thigh. "And I love the way my hands would mold into your skin. They fit so perfectly around your waist, your thigh... So easy for me to hold. Very easy for me to love."
He gave you a squeeze as if to prove his point, but you could only look away almost shamefully. "...But I have scars on my legs," you mumbled. "So wearing short skirts would expose them, and they're—"
"Beautiful."
He bent your leg to kiss your knee, gently brushing his fingers over the marks on your skin.
"They are beautiful."
Zayne shook his head with a sigh, before moving back up to capture your pout into another kiss.
"But—"
"No buts, sweetheart. These are not flaws to be hidden, nor things that you should feel the need to get rid of. They are part of you, and to me, that makes them perfect."
Another kiss, this time by the side of your jawline, and you drew in a breath.
"You are perfect, snowflake."
You felt your skin burn against his touch, and his words made you feel warm and tingly.
"The shape of your face is, too, perfect as it is. In case you were wondering. Just as perfect for me to hold, and just as perfect for me to kiss."
A kiss on your neck, to your collarbone, to your shoulders, down your arm...
"I can only say the same for your arms. So soft. They wrap perfectly around me, did you know that?" He smiled against your skin, before shifting to press you onto your back, caging you between his arms and hovering above you. "And your shoulders sit on you perfectly fine, I hope you don't think of them so badly, either. Frankly, they must be tired from carrying all the burdens you keep from me still..."
You noted the seriousness in his voice, and felt yourself subsequently relax.
"...Zayne, I—"
"Do not apologize. I won't ask for it, and you've nothing wrong. However... you must tell me, next time, sweetheart, whenever you feel like this. Can you promise me that?"
A silence followed, as if you were weighing your words—
And perhaps, you were.
It was never easy for you to speak of this thoughts. You'd think yourself normal if not for all these baseless insecurities, and you'd much prefer to keep them to yourself—
But what had that done? All these years spent holding in your tears, only to break at the slightest prod of your thoughts.
It wasn't as if crying had helped you.
It even made things worse, probably.
And it would do more harm to you if you continued in this unhealthy cycle of bottling things up.
"...You don't mind?" you whispered. "I don't want to bother you... You're always so busy..."
"Oh, sweetheart. I will always have time for you. And I am always here to listen. You understand that, don't you?"
"...I know, but..."
"I am your husband. What husband would I be to ignore your concerns?"
You smiled faintly at that, finally finding in yourself the courage to loosely hook your arms around his neck.
In the end, Zayne was willing to be your confidant. And communication had always been important between the two of you, you knew this well enough—an issue like this shouldn’t be too different from that. Why would you keep such things from him, truly?
"Okay," you nodded, a promise to yourself and a promise to him. "I promise, Zayne."
"Good girl."
His praise, so associated now with certain activities that you had often done, went straight to your core—you almost wanted to hide, despite knowing you had given him consent to do as he wished, but he leaned in for another kiss.
You could feel his smile as he moved his lips against yours, biting gently at your lower lip enough to elicit a gasp.
When he pulled back, the mirth in his eyes was clear, and you jumped as you felt the pad of his thumb graze ever so slightly over your pert nipple.
"Z-Zayne..." you whispered, eyes searching his.
"Do you know what I love the most about your body?"
He spoke against your lips, close enough just to touch, but not quite.
You slowly shook your head no.
"You're always so responsive."
His hand moved to knead at your skin, brushing slightly over your nipple but never quite touching. His eyes fixed upon yours, taking in the way your eyelids would flutter and the way you would instantly shudder at his touch;
"So... expressive. So telling."
You couldn't help the way you whimpered, feeling yourself arch slightly into his hand, eyes closing as he flicked once more against your nipple before pinching it between the pads of his fingers.
The moan he elicited out of you was airy and long, and had you opened you eyes, you would see the way he tilted his head, watching you, observing you. He only continued, of course—rolling it slowly, tugging slightly, feeling the bud get harder between his nimble fingers. It was almost as if he were eager to hear more of you moans, and he would get them instantly.
"You're always so sensitive for me, sweetheart."
Without giving you a chance to react to his words, he dipped his head down, latching his mouth over your other bud, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your arms. Another moan fell from your lips. You felt him gently rub your waist once more to ease you into the pleasure, expertly working you up.
He knew you so well.
You could feel it in the way he pinched and rubbed at you in all the right places, skillfully swirling the tip of the warm muscle over your stinging nipple. You felt his saliva pool from the sides of his mouth and onto your breasts—when he pulled back with a 'pop', you flushed at the way he casually wiped it away, eyes never leaving yours.
"Z-Zayne, really, you..." You were breathless when he spoke, barely getting a chance to collect yourself when he sat up, spreading you open and settling between your legs.
"You're wet, aren't you?" he spoke matter-of-factly, but the look in his eyes told you that he was quite pleased. "Hm, what did I say? So responsive for me."
His hand moved lower.
"Just like the good girl that you always are..."
Lower, lower, digging into the waistband of your panties—
"And you are such..."
Another kiss on your stomach, and he slowly pulled the fabric away.
"A beautiful..."
His eyes dropped to the way your slick pulled with your underwear, a telltale sign of your wetness.
"Good girl."
Zayne moved to swipe a finger over your slit, collecting your arousal and spreading it over to your clit. He raised an eyebrow slightly at you as he did so, taking in the way you would mewl almost instantly; "So wet for me, my snowflake."
You whimpered, hands reaching out for him, settling only when he tucked you under his chin, easily slipping a finger into your hole.
"Mmh— Zayne..."
Another moan, and he kissed at your hair, gently pumping his finger in and out of you.
"See how perfect you are?" He murmured, and his thumb would press over your clit, gently rubbing in time with the languid thrust of his finger. "The way you wrap around me like this... I could keep my fingers inside of you all night long, sweetheart."
You could feel everything, with the way he took his time with you, exploring every inch of your pussy almost as if committing it to memory. And he was right—he felt perfect inside you, feeling his sighs against the crown of your head everytime he would clench around you.
He slipped another finger in, and you groaned at the stretch.
"Shit, Zayne," you whispered, feeling yourself buck up into his fingers.
"Language, sweetheart."
You almost laughed at his words, had he not quickened his pace, finally moving his head down to bring you into another deep kiss.
You could feel it—the gradual knotting in your stomach, the jolt of pleasure when he rubbed against your sensitive spots.
"Zayne—" You moaned when he pulled back from the kiss, eyes turning hazy. "Zayne, please, I'll cum—"
He peppered kisses over your face, and smiled.
"Cum for me, sweetheart."
You gasped as you climaxed almost as if by command, trembling in your place, eyes wide as you felt the pleasure rip through you intensely. Zayne continued to kiss at your skin, soothing phrases in your ear, gentle caresses over your arm.
"Z-Zayne, I... You...—"
He pressed his cock against your cunt, sighing into your neck.
"One more, sweetheart, okay?" he breathed, teasing your entrance with his tip. "I need to be inside you."
And how could you say no?
You could feel the lust radiating off of him, his chest heaving with remnants of self-control, leaving slow, languid licks on the side of your neck if only to placate himself.
It was rare to see him lose control, but you knew that he would always end up getting like this whenever he would push himself inside you.
He would only get like this with you.
For you.
Your heart jumped, and you nodded, running your hands over his back.
"I can take one more," you mumbled.
Immediately, inch by inch, you felt him sink deep into your cunt, feeling the stretch of your walls to accomodate his length no matter how many times you'd done this.
Your eyes closed as you hissed in pleasure, wrapping your legs around his waist, taking in the way he would gently rut against you. Soft, steady, rocking movements; the bed would creak along with his thrusts in a lull that had your eyelids fluttering closed.
"You take me very well," he groaned from the throat, voice slightly muffled into your neck. "So perfect for me, snowflake... Your pretty pussy around my cock..."
His words sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core, every squeeze of your cunt on eliciting a sharp hiss from his lips.
"Haah... Zayne..."
He made you feel loved.
His cock was snug in your walls, every vein and ridge dragging perfectly against you. You were made for him, and he for you—his low moans were music to your ears, and you hugged him tighter, your chest swelling with warmth.
"I love you," you whispered, bucking your hips up to meet his. "I love you, Zayne... so, so much."
He finally lifted his head, the lustful cloud in his lime-green eyes mixing with overflowing adoration.
"And I love you, sweetheart. More than you think. More than you know."
You'd never felt yourself glow at such words before.
The pace he kept was steady, but the lingering feeling of your previous high had you now moaning unabashedly, feeling yourself getting closer, and closer to another one.
"Please," you whimpered, feeling your nails dig into his back when he angled his thrusts, hitting that spot that had you seeing stars. "Please, Zayne, 'mso close..."
He shuddered at the way you clenched, obliging you with harder, deeper thrusts, adoring the way you would throw your head back in moans of his name.
"Fuck," he cursed, eyes closing, hips stuttering. "Go ahead, sweetheart, 'm right there with you."
You could feel the way he twitched inside of you, thrusts getting faster, more erratic.
"Inside, right?" you breathed, clutching him tightly, almost locking him in place. "Inside, Zayne, please—together—"
He moaned lowly, nearly driving you into the mattress with the force of his thrusts, your words igniting a newfound fervor. "Shit—you'd like that, huh, sweetheart? Want me to fuck a baby in you? You'll be such a beautiful mother, won’t you?"
Your eyes squeezed shut, focusing on the feeling of his cock against your walls, claiming your cunt in the way you liked best. "Yes, yes, yes," you chanted, "please, Zayne—"
You mewled in your release, clenching tightly, feeling him paint your insides white as ropes of his cum spurted deep inside of you.
You held him close, panting, burying your face into his neck.
"I love you," you whispered, repeating your words. "I love you, Zayne. I love you, and thank you... For always being there for me."
He panted as he thrust inside of you once, twice, plugging you full of his spend, before pulling out and kissing you deeply.
"I love you ever more. I will never stop feeling lucky to have you, and I will always be here. I meant it, sweetheart... You'd make a beautiful mother." As you flushed, he pressed a hand against your stomach, and smiled. "For what it's worth, your weight is perfectly healthy. And there is nothing wrong with your body, okay, snowflake?"
"...I know. Thank you, Zayne."
"Would you prefer to go shopping with me, instead? My shift will end earlier tomorrow. I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of the day with you."
This time, you smiled. You snuggled into his embrace, finding solace in his warmth, just as you always did.
"I'd like that a lot."
⁺₊ / an: i ended up combining a couple of requests for this (and the youtiful series as a whole) and finally got around to writing zayne!!! this was incredibly hard to write, i love him INCREDIBLY so, and something about writing him amplifies the need to have it down perfectly 😭
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
#love and deepspace#love & deepspace#love and deepspace smut#love & deepspace smut#l&ds#l&ds x reader#l&ds smut#l&ds zayne#zayne#zayne x reader#zayne x you#zayne smut#ʚɞ*.゚. lnds#✿˖°. roxiefic#*ੈ♡. rose garden#divider by mikeykuns#divider by cafekitsune#love and deepspace x reader#love & deepspace x reader#love and deepspace zayne#love & deepspace zayne
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Valedictorian - l.hs (m)
He never knew that the nerdy-virgin thing you had going on would turn him on, but maybe it did. And he needed to do something about it.
☆ Summary: Heeseung is your sworn enemy and you hate everything about him. You hate how he looks, you hate the fact that he gets better grades than you, and you hate the way he makes you cry. The problem however, is that you are his favorite plaything, and he couldn't get enough of you.
☆ Genre: Academicrival!Heeseung, Badboy!Heeseung, nerdy!reader, virgin!reader, SMUT
☆ Words: 5,2k+
☆ Warnings: Dacryphilia, a looot of crying, Dom!Heeseung, Sub!Reader, Manipulation, Heeseung is super mean, degradation (praising in the end though), chocking
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You had always been at the top of your class, getting straight A’s throughout all of high school. You didn’t care that you never went to parties, never talked to boys, or the fact that everyone calls you ‘teachers pet’ behind your back. It’s you who are going to have the bright future you have always dreamt of, and not them. And, if you are at the top of your class at the end of high school, the valedictorian title would be yours, and the dream of attending a top university would be achieved. But it was one person that was ruining everything for you.
Lee Heeseung. Even his name makes your blood boil. Lee Heeseung. Leeee. Heeeeseung. Urgh. He wasn’t always there, and oh you wish you could turn back time to freshman year when he wasn’t present in your life. When you first saw him, you didn’t think he was much more than a low-lifer like your other classmates. Black hair, eyeliner, tight black clothing? Ah so an emo then, probably too depressed to be good at school, spending all day rutting in his room listening to mcr. Or he was maybe a bad boy, spending all his weekends on parties and fucking girls without even knowing their name.
But you were so wrong.
You clearly remember the day when you realized Heeseung might even be smarter than you, which was also the first day you talked to him. You had just got back the result from a massive math test, and of course you got an A. You triumphantly look at your score, 96/100, not bad - you thought, could definitely be better, but surely no one else got as high of a score as you did. That’s what you thought until you squinted at Heeseungs table beside yours.
Down on his desk you saw his exam paper, and you could not believe your eyes. To make sure you saw right, you adjusted your thick glasses. 100/100. What? How is that even possible? Was Heeseung a nerd?
Not realizing that your stare caught his eye, you get surprised when his voice interrupts your thoughts. “Jealous? People have told me a lot about you.” Wtf? You get startled by his dark voice, looking up at Heeseungs dark orbs with an irritated expression. You observe him. His body is tilted back against his chair, legs spread wide - as if he wants to show off his dominance. His ripped jeans and the shirt he was wearing was both black, which is the color he always wears. His black hair was peeking out from the same coloured bennie, and his ear was covered with silver piercings. You hate the fact that his bad-boy-emo persona makes your heart skip a quick beat. He is so annoyingly good looking that it hurts, hurts even more now that you know he is a smart asshole.
“What the fuck did you say”, you say, trying to sound intimidating even while wearing your thick nerdy glasses. People have told things about me? What? His lips turn into a smirk, and with his elbow on the table in front of him, he leans his head down on his hand. His eyes look at you up and down to take in your appearance. You are wearing a neatly ironed shirt, paired with a pastel yellow thick sweater and a pleated skirt just above the knees. The skirt looks way too big for you, and way too long. How old were you, fifty? The tights that you were wearing were thick, making anyone unable to see your skin through the fabric, and your hair was far from styled - messy, as if you just woke up. Probably were up all night studying for the test he aced. You looked like a nerdy-virgin (which you were), and he couldn’t help but to imagine what you would look like under all that clothing.
“Well, that you were supposed to be this wannabe smart-ass, and annoying, really…” Oh so he is not just a nerd, but also an asshole. In frustration you turn your whole body facing him, before standing up so you can look down on him - getting the upper hand. With a hand on your hip and another on your glasses, you really do look like a smart-ass. “So, what? Are you saying I'm not smart?” He chuckles at your attempt in challenging him and stands up, looking down at you. He tilts his head and pouts his lips at you. Fuck he is tall. Embarrassingly, you look down at your feet and begin to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. No boy has never been this close to you, especially someone like him, someone bad.
“Maybe you are, but you are nothing compared to me, bunny”. Bunny. Ah hell nah. You quickly look up at him again with furrowed brows, oozing with anger. Did he just use a pet name on you? How dare he look down at you like this, and how dare he try to flirt with you. “Please, everyone knows that I am going to be valedictorian, dick” You say and cross your arms in front of your chest, puffing out air and looking to the side to avoid his gaze. What you don’t know however, is how your arms in front of your chest pushes your boobs up, making Heeseung able to look down your shirt. “Let’s see who gets that title, Sweetheart.” He bites his lips to hide the laugh he lets out, enjoying the state you are in right now. “By the way, cute bra. I love the color blue” he says and walks out of the classroom leaving you speechless. You look down. Fuck. You didn’t know that one of the buttons had opened up when you crossed your arms. You will never wear stupid this bra again.
This was just the beginning, and during the last years of high school Heeseung could not stop bothering you. And as the times passed, the hatred for Heeseung increased. The way he looked at you teasingly when you got something wrong in class makes you want to vomit, the way he would brag when he got a better grade, makes you want to punch him hard right in his face and the way he was watching you throughout class, making it impossible to concentrate, makes you want to scream in his face.
But that was not even the worst thing about him. He knew he was hot, and he knew that you thought so too. Therefore, at least once a day he would embarrass you, torment you, flirt with you. How could someone be this bad, this sinful disturbing a girl like you. He would always sit beside you in every class, even though you protested him not to. Occasionally you would feel his hand on your thigh sliding up and down, making you shiver. You would always immediately slap his hand away, ignoring him throughout the day. What was his deal?
Another day you remember clearly, exactly a year after first talking to Heeseung. You were starting to get used by his daily torment, almost getting immune from his mean comments. I guess he wanted to step it up a notch, and decided to do it during a presentation in English. You were as prepared as you could be, wearing a neatly ironed blazer and a hair up in a ponytail to look professional during your speech. Your speech cards were decorated with blue paper, perfectly organized in order for you to ace the speech in front of your classmates.
The teacher called up your name, you got to the front, and started talking. You were good, so good, and you could see the anticipation throughout the class. Your flow was on point, not showing a single sign of nervousness. That was until you met Heeseungs gaze in the back of the classroom. Heeseung hated to see you succeed, including this geeky english speech. He was even more annoyed when he saw what you were wearing. Again with the try-hard-good-girl clothing. The blazer? Too big. And could you not let your hair out for a single day? Nonetheless, he got bored doing nothing but listening to your nonsense, his speech was better anyways, but he couldn’t let you go away unbothered.
With his legs wide apart, and a hand on his thigh he looked at you, smirking - licking his lips even. You begin to stutter with your words, losing the confidence you built up for the presentation over the last four days. You couldn’t look away, and continued to watch Heeseung grace his veiny hand up and down his leg. Everyone else noticed that there was something up with you - the top student stuttering during a graded speech? Still, you continued - and tried to calm yourself down, until you met his eyes once again. Now, he was sending you a wink, while biting his lips. You unwillingly let out a surprised gasp, his actions making you drop all your cards on the floor. In panic, you quickly let out a weak “sorry..”, before dropping down on your knees, picking up all the cards.
The teacher looked at you concerned, “Are you sure you don’t want to do the speech again?” You looked down on your feet, too scared to look up knowing who is watching you. “No, it’s okay”, you say before storming out of the classroom. While you do so, you look back to see a laughing Heeseung.
Since then Heeseung could never stop bother you, he loved to see you so worked up. He loved the face you would make when seeing his result on a test, he loved how irritated you became when he talked loudly with his friends about how much better he was than you. But he also loved how quiet you would be when teasing you. Seeing your flushed face when being touchy, stuttering when he lowered his face towards your neck to whisper something in your ear, only for him to say how much of a loser you were - making you punch him away. He never knew that the nerdy-virgin thing you had going on would turn him on, but maybe it did. And he needed to do something about it.
“Man, why are you always staring at her? Give her a break” Jake says, looking at Heeseung. He was sitting at a table eating lunch in the cafeteria with his closest friends. He had known all of them throughout high school, and they were even close now in senior year. They also knew his obsession with teasing, as Heesung himself likes to call you, his ‘loser classmate’. He looked at you, you were sitting alone reading a book - as always, eating a sandwich your mom probably made. You were wearing the same ugly skirt you always wore, with a blouse that was way too big. The thick glasses that were helping you read your boring history book, were resting low on your nose bridge. Sensing that someone was watching you, you looked up only to see Lee Heeseung staring at you. Urgh, Why does he always do this? He smirks when you look at him, biting his lips to make you nervous. As irritated it makes you - it works, making you look down at your History book you were reading for the massive test later the same week.
Heeseung lets out a chuckle when Sunghoon punches his arm. “You sure love to tease her, why do you even do that anyways”. Heeseung looks at him and cocks an eyebrow, as if the answer to his question isn’t obvious. How can you resist making fun of something like that? “Because she is a loser, and the way she acts when I tease her is way too enjoyable for me to stop?” He says and takes a sip out of the cola in front of him, still staring at you. “Hmm, I don’t know Heeseung. Maybe she has a freaky side, all nerds do” Jay says and turns around to look back at you. Jay also staring at you is too much for you to bear, so you quickly gather your things and leave, looking back at Heeseungs table. That was when Heeseung got an idea, something that would sure really rile you up.
“Of course she has a freaky side, Jay. Haven’t you heard?” He says and looks at the others. With wide eyes the boys look at each other, shaking their heads. “No, bro, what do you mean? '' Jake says with a curious expression, always a sucker for some high school gossip. Heesung signals them to lean in so he could whisper, and they do. “Last week y/n got a B on a super important math test - oh you should’ve seen her face, and because she was so desperate to get an A, she gave Mr.Park a blow job after the lesson in his office.” He lied, of course. He knew that you got an A from that test and would never suck off a teacher. But he can just imagine the look on your face when you find out about the nasty rumor. His friends let out a big gasp at his words, not believing that the school's good girl did something like that to get a better grade. “ No way dude, you are lying”, Jay says and punches Heeseungs chest. Heeseung brings his hands in front of his chest to defend himself. “No, trust me! I saw everything.”
The rumor spread like wildfire, and It didn’t take long before everyone knew about it, including you. You already knew who would come up with something like this, and that’s why you are running towards the library to find him. He may have made everyone in school think that you went down on your teacher for a better grade, but oh but you were not going down without a fight. You hurriedly run down the hall towards the library.
With tears embarrassingly streaming down your face, you run up to Heeseung and his friends in the library. He looks up at you with a cocky expression, laughing when he sees your tears behind your thick glasses. He looks at Jake, “Do you see her? The way she cries? So embarrassing” You are now standing right infront of him. He continues, “What do you want? Do you want to suck me off too, bunny?” You swallow down your saliva, gaining courage to look deep into his eyes. “Stand up Heeseung” You say, your hands formed in fists. He looks around at his friends, laughing, before standing up crossing his arms in front of his chest. Heeseung looks down at you. You are wearing the same thing you wore the first day he talked to you, although now the sleeves on your shirt is wet from wiping your tears. Your face is red and puffy from crying, and small parts of your mascara are now under your eyes. He towered over you, making you feel small and fragile. But that was not going to stop you from standing up to yourself though.
“Why did you spread a rumor about me sucking off Mr.Park for a better grade?” You say, still looking at Heeseung. He lets out a chuckle and tilts his head to the side. He walks up to you, getting closer with any second. “Who said that was a rumor? What I know is that you went down on your fragile little knees and wrapped your dirty little mouth around Mr.Parks cock. I heard you were good too, really knowing how to use that soft tongue, and here I thought you were a virgin. Maybe you want to show me how you did it? Of coarse if you are even able to fit my massive cock in your mouth”
Oh he was sooo dead. “What the fuck did you say to me?!” You scream at him, punching him in his stomach. He lets out a grunt from the pain. Right after, he grabs your wrist and lifts it up - almost making your feet leave the ground. You breath hitched, surprised by his sudden movement. His face is close to yours, making you feel his hot breath on your face. “Did you just fucking punch me?” If you thought Heeseung was scarry before, it was nothing compared to now. You immediately regretted punching him. Before the conflict could escalate any further, a teacher stormed into the library and separated both of you. “What is going on here? Y/n I thought higher of you, and Heeseung, why are you threatening another student! Detention, after school, both of you!” She says and storms away.
Detention. No way. You look up at Heeseung with tears in your eyes. “This is your fucking fault.” He only looks at you with a smirk on his face. “Let’s settle this in detention sweetheart”
You were already crying when you walked to detention. You hate Heeseung. Hate the fact that he is so smart, even getting better results than you - probably making him earn the valedictorian title instead of you. You hate the way he looks. How can someone be so smart and look like that? Dressed in all black, eyes coated with black eyeliner, hair covered in a dirty beanie, his stupid piercing that made him look like a bad boy, stupid combat boots that would echo the halls when he stomped his feet on the ground, how stupid you felt for thinking he was hot, stupid, stupid, stupid!
The classroom is completely quiet, the only people in detention being you, Heeseung and the teacher guarding you. You had brought your history book, still studying for the same history test - at least you were productive to keep your grades up. But still, this bothered you. Of course it was only you Heeseung in detention, wouldn't it be other students too? At least then you wouldn’t have to be alone with him. As if the devil heard you complain, the teacher suddenly stood up from her chair. “I’m just going down for a coffee break, don’t do anything stupid - I’ll be back in twenty minutes” She says and walks out, slamming the door after her. The classroom was at first completely quiet, before someone spoke up.
“Twenty minutes?" That is a looong time”. You look besides you at Heeseung from across the classroom. His body is facing you and his hand is on his thigh, creeping up closer to his cock, the same way he did during your speech that one time. You were already weak, unable to look away from the thing you swore you hate. His tight ripped jeans hugging his thighs perfectly makes your mouth water, but the way he looks at you makes you want to run away. Stop it y/n! He is doing this on purpose! You were already trembling, your feet bouncing against the floor while biting your nails anxiously. You tried to read your book, tried to concentrate on the French revolution you were supposed to have a test on, but Heeseungs gaze was - something.
Heeseung stands up from his chair, walking towards you until he is right beside you. You glance at him behind your glasses, still trying to concentrate on your studies, trying to ignore the weird feeling in your stomach. You really are a loser, only his presence makes you want to cry. “Look at me, bunny” He says and licks his lips. Oh, he loves this. Loves how he can see your bottom lip tremble. You didn’t look at him however, still reading your book.
Irritated, he pokes the inside off his cheek with his tongue, and lets out a sigh before grabbing your chin, almost lifting up your entire body using his strength. The chair you were sitting on falls to the ground from his movement. Tears are already forming in your eyes, before sliding down your cheeks. Why is he so scary? “I said look at me? What is it in that demand that you don’t understand, sweetheart?” He says and backs you up, still holding your chin, making you sit on the desk behind you. You bite your lips trying to muffle your cries, but it was no use, Heeseung could still see how scared you were from your tears. “T-this is unfair!” you try to let out between hiccups, your thighs clenching together from being this close to your sworn enemy. Being this close to him, you are able to smell him - a mix of mens perfume and sweat filling up your nostrils.
Heeseung looks down on you with furrowed eyebrows, he slides his thumb across your swollen lips. Damn you cry all the time, is it this easy to make you upset? “What is unfair, baby?” He says, trying to sound sweet, even though he is forcing you in this position, the thumb leaving your lip so he can wrap his hand around your neck. You let out a yelp, which makes him chuckle. Through sobs you try to let out an answer. “It’s unfair how much I've fought to be at the top of my class, only for you to barge in and be better than me. Not only that but you're so mean to me, using your strength to force me like this”
First, he doesn’t answer, suddenly putting his hand on your thigh to spread them apart. You don’t even try to fight back anymore, lost in the way he looks at you. Heeseung grabs the end of your long skirt, and pushes it up to your thighs. “Mhm, using my strength to force you? Am I forcing you baby?” He says and bites his lips, his hand still playing with the hem of your ugly rolled up skirt. He tilts his head, and the hand leaves the front of your neck to pull out the ponytail you were wearing, letting your hair down. “I know how you look at me. Probably loving the idea of a bad-boy fucking the nerdy good girl up, making you sweat, making you tremble with my touch” The hand leaves your head and wraps around your neck again but from the back. His other hand is closing up towards your inner thigh, and the closer he gets to your core - the heavier your breathing gets.
“That’s not true, I could never find someone as irritating, mean, annoying as you attractive. Even though your tal frame, your strength, and your black silhouette would make any other girl fall, I’m not like the others” He chuckles at your statement, you just exposed yourself by the way you described him. Suddenly, he leans down towards your neck, giving you kisses with his soft lips. The sudden contact, that you had never experienced before, makes you bring up your hands to Heeseungs chest to grab his shirt, trying to push him away. But he is too strong, and your grip loosens when you feel his other hand just above your core.
You unwillingly let out a moan at the feeling. What is going on? “Oh, are you not? So you don’t like it when I touch you like this?” He says, pressing his fingers harder down against your clit, making your back arch. The humiliation is too much, and your entire face is wet from the crying. You hate how weak he makes you feel, and how much you know he can do to you, and how much you would let him. Your glasses are getting foggy, making Heeseung chuckle, before taking them off. The sight of your teary eyes without your glasses makes his cock twitch. “Aw, baby, don’t cry. I’m going to take care of you, bunny”
You pathetically nod your head, before letting out a high-pitched moan at the feeling of his finger on your clit, making soft circles through the fabric. Only this could bring you over the edge, this being the first time someone touched you. Heeseung let out a chuckle when seeing how desperate you were, making him want to push you even further. Therefore, he stopped touching your clit to pull off your thighs under your skirt. “No- stop!” You say, trying to push him away for the last time, even though you secretly want him to continue. You can’t let someone like him touch you like this, your reputation would be ruined.
“What baby, you want me to stop?” He says, while pulling off your panties and letting his finger come in contact with your bare skin. You don’t answer, too busy letting out sweet moans from his touch. God he was good at this. Your hand leaves his chest, and grabs his shoulders to keep yourself from falling back out of pleasure. Heeseungs other hand begins to button up your blouse, laughing when he sees the same blue bra you were wearing at your first encounter.
“If you want me to continue, you have to actually beg for it bunny” Heeseung says, laughing in your face at the whine you let out when he stops touching your clit. Desperate to feel pleasure, desperate for his touch, desperate for him, you unwillingly get down on your knees in front of him. Heeseung gets surprised by this, thinking you would never do what he says.
Through ugly cries, tears running down your cheeks in desperation, you clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look up at the man in front of you. Because of your open blouse, the tears from your eyes run down your neck, between your boobs, something that Heeseung can’t keep his eyes away from. He always adored your cries, definitely if it came because of him, definitely if it made you look like this. “Please Heeseung, please”
You sure knew how to beg like a bitch.
“Don’t worry bunny, I’m going to take care of my nerd real good” He grabs the back of your hair and pulls you up to your feet- earning a loud whine from the pain you feel in your scalp. He flips you around so your back is against his chest and punches you down on the wooden desk, while throwing away your history book with his other hand. You let out a pathetic cough from the hard impact from the fall, feeling the air being pushed out from your chest. Knowing he does not have a lot of time to fuck you, Heeseung quickly wraps the hem of your skirt, dragging it down to your ankles. The sight of your bare skin makes him let out a groan, making you wet. He unbuttons his pants, pulling them down alongside with his boxers to let his hard cock free. He looks at the clock on the wall beside him, 10 minutes before the teacher gets back.
The contact of his cock against your wet folds makes your knees buckle, only being able to stand up from the grip Heeseung have on your waist. The embarrassment you are feeling is still making you cry, feeling defeated with your bare ass up in the air in front of the biggest asshole you have ever met. Heeseung leaves his hand from your waist up to your mouth to cover your cries, he was maybe an asshole but he doesn’t want to get caught.
Before you could protest any further, he pushes himself into you, making you cry out of pain and pleasure. He was massive, and if you weren't so wet already from his harsh words, then you would never be able to take all of him. “Shh, shh, bunny, I’m going to be careful alright? I know it’s your first time taking cock”, he says, while pushing in and out of you slowly. Everytime he pushes himself into you, your back arch, making Heeseung let out a chuckle from your pathetic movements.
The only sound coming from the classroom was your muffled cries alongside with wet slapping sounds from the way Heeseung fucks into you. But Heeseung can’t resist, he needs to hear more of you, so he removes his hand from your mouth so you can let out your moans free. When he does, he grabs your waist again, stabilize himself, before fucking harder into you - getting impatient by treating you like a fragile doll.
His cock is hitting into you as deep as it could go, making you let out a loud cry. It's painful and you can’t feel more disgusting than what you already do, pushing back to make him go even deeper. He lets out a loud groan from your sudden movement. How did he turn this nerdy good girl into something so nasty?
“You’re such a dirty girl, y/n” Heeseung says, not slowing down his pace. Too lost in the pleasure you agree, giving him a weak nod between moans. “Tell me you are dirty, say it!” He says, feeling how he gets closer and closer by any minute, looking at the clock between thrusts to make sure you don’t get caught. “Im a d-dirty girl, Heeseungie” The way you say his name could make him cum then and there, but for your sake he tries to hold back.
He lets out a laugh at your response, realizing that he finally got you under his spell. “Say how much better I am than you, tell me that you are nothing, nothing more than my little nerdy loser to play with, say it bunny” Heeseung says, slapping your ass right after, making you cry even harder. The pain, the pleasure, the fury you feel inside of you is making your head fuzzy, not caring if the words you are about to say will make you look pathetic. “Yes! You are so much better than me, I’m nothing except yours Hee!”
The guilt you feel inside your chest is almost unbearable. Your worst enemy had just made you swallow your pride while fucking roughly into you over the schooldesk in an empty classroom. All this work to seem like a good girl, wasted, only to get dicked down by someone who makes you cry every night. He has taken everything from you, your virginity, your confidence, not to mention the dream to become valedictorian. Heeseung can feel the shame oozing out of you, and he hugs your body from behind to get a stronger grip so he can fuck into you harder. You feel his sweaty, muscular, chest against your back, and you lean your head back against his shoulder to feel some sort of comfort.
“Fuck yes, your mine alright baby? Now cum all over my cock” He says, fastening his pace. You cum because of his words, his commands, and the feeling of your juices covering his cock brings him over the edge, making him cum as well. He doesn’t pull out however, fucking his cum into you for a few seconds before realizing that the teacher is back in any seconds.
Heeseung pushes your body away from him, and you are too weak to stand so you fall down on the hard floor. Your whole body hurts, and you try to use your strength to stand back up, until you feel Heeseungs arms wrap around your body. He helps you to pull on your clothes, helping you sit down in your chair as he brushes your sweaty hair away from your red face. “You were so good baby, so good for me”. He says as he gives you your thick glasses, dirty from being on the floor. He gives you a kiss on the forehead, and rubs your cheek with his thumb. “You are mine now bunny, understand?” You give him a weak nod, before he walks away to his desk.
When the teacher got back, she had no idea that the schools ‘good girl’ finally got ruined by her worst nightmare.
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Finally another fic! Rebloggs are really appreciated :)
#enhypen#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen x reader#enhypen hyung line#enhypen imagines#sunghoon smut#enha smut#enhypen hard thoughts#Heeseung smut#lee heeseung x reader#heeseung#lee heeseung#heeseung x reader#heeseung enhypen#heeseung hard hours#heeseung hard thoughts
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*𝙇𝙚𝙩 𝙈𝙚 𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙄𝙩 𝙐𝙥 𝙏𝙤 𝙔𝙤𝙪*
Pairing: Fox!Hybrid Seungmin x Reader (Fem)
Genre: Smut (Tiny angst)
Warnings: Enemies -> Lovers, Mentions of blood, Seungmin beats up someone, Unprotected sex, Creampie, Slight hair pulling, Oral (F), Clawing back, Praise Kink if you squint. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings.
A/N: I’ve had this idea for awhile and it’s nice to finally get it out, there’s actual plot to this no way! lol.
Series Master List
-🐾
You hated that your friends were friends with him. He was a nuisance. Always annoying you always getting on your last nerve. He’d do anything to really push your buttons. You could chalk it up to him being a fox hybrid, however he goes out of his way to get under your skin.
“Why do we have to pick her up? Why’s she have to come?” Seungmin asked.
“Seungmin, would you shut up?” Jeongin said back rolling his eyes.
“I just don’t get why she has to come” he said sulking back into his seat.
“Because we’re friends? Can’t help you repel all of women kind” Jeongin said with a chuckle making Hyunjin laugh in the other seat.
“Whatever say virgin boy wonder” Seungmin scoffed back.
They came by to pick you up on their way back from the store. Today was Changbins birthday so they were throwing a huge party at their place. You really didn’t wanna go, not that you didn’t like parties but parties with hybrids were.. different. Always a fight, always people basically fucking. So- not to different just more teeth and claws.
You came out in sweats, holding a couple bags. You wanted to get stuff ready before you get all prettied up, plus hyunjin was always a great help with make up. When you got to the door Hyunjin got out to open it smiling at you “hey Hyune” you said with a smile back.
“Hey pretty lady, ready to get drunk tonight?” He said with a laugh.
“Oh totally, this week’s been rough gonna drink my cares away” you said slipping into the seat.
Seungmin was still sulking in the seat beside you, when you had gotten in you almost took him out with your bags. “Watch it” he said pushing them away making you laugh. He continued to sulk the way there as you all talked.
“Y/n, remember my rooms off limits, no hook ups in my bed” jeongin said with a laugh.
“Dude, shut up I’m just trying to get hammered and forget I’ll be around all the chaos” you said with a chuckle. “Anyways is that cute girl you like gonna be there? You reserving the bed for her?” You teased.
“He didn’t invite her” Hyunjin snickered.
“What? Why?” You said smacking him lightly.
“Because he’s a scardy cat” Hyunjin teased.
“Ha ha ha so funny” Jeongin rolled his eyes.
Hyunjin and you were both human, however Jeongin was a cat Hybrid and Changbin a bear hybrid. You don’t know how all the personalities mixed so well but it did. You’ve been friends with Jeongin and Hyunjin for a good many years now coming from the same town. Changbin joined the gang a few years ago. Seungmin being the newest to your group. Changbin always joked about how it was the misfit crew.
As you pulled in you grabbed your bags smacking Seungmin again with them. “What do you got in there? Rocks?” He hissed.
“If I knew you were coming it’d be a brick” you said with a scowl as you got out. You helped the others bring in the bags. They got so much booze and snacks it was unreal. “Who’s getting the cake?” Jeongin asked as they put the stuff down.
“Oh lix is bringing it, you should see what he made it looks awesome!” Hyunjin said with a smile.
You tried to grab the last case of beer from the car, but Seungmin had come beside you grabbing it first. “Wouldn’t want the princess to break a nail” he said before walking away with it. God did he infuriate you.
After getting everything set up Felix has arrived with the cake. He sculpted a big bear, even textured the fur, it looked so cool. Hyunjin and you had went back to his room to get ready. You slipped on a black dress, it hugged you so nicely. Showed off all the right assets. “Y/n you’re gonna get yourself mauled out there” he teased.
“I take it, it looks good?” You said sticking your tongue out.
“Definitely, dude it makes your ass look great” he said with a chuckle.
Hyunjin was always your hype man. He helped you with your make up and before you knew it people started to come. You could hear the music blaring and people chatting. “You nervous?” He asked.
“Always am at parties like this” you said finishing your eyeliner.
“We’ll be with yeah don’t worry” he said with a smile. “Although- I think you’re gonna have a lot of eyes on you. You look like a model” he said.
“Nah you’re just good at make up” you said getting up to check yourself in the mirror. You did look really good though, the shoes you were wearing made your legs look even better and he was definitely right about your ass.
When you both came out changbin immediately saw you smiling widely. “Y/n!” He said picking you up twirling you. “Dude you look hot” he said with a laugh.
“Thanks” you said laughing with him.
You made your way to where the others were sitting. Seungmins yellowish eyes met your figure, he choked on his drink when he saw you. He was awe struck. You waved at the others smiling, jeongin handing you your drink. You sat next to him and seungmin, the slight touch of your knee hitting him sent a shock straight up his back. God damn did you look gorgeous.
As time passed you started relaxing a bit, maybe it was the alcohol maybe it was just the mood. Seungmin couldn’t take his eyes off of you especially not when you got up with Hyunjin to dance. You weren’t far from the table. He watched as you moved, his eyes burning a hole into you. It was like you had him under a spell.
The night went on as you got a little more tipsy. Seungmins eyes never leaving your every movement. He was going crazy. He had enough, he got up going to the bathroom trying to get some clarity. While he was gone some hybrid came up behind you. Wrapping his arms around you.
“I can’t believe you’re all by yourself looking this good” the man said against your ear. It turned your stomach a bit. You were sobering up as the lights flashed.
“I’m not” you said.
“Well there’s no one with you right now, all alone. For someone to just snatch you up” he said gripping at your hips pulling you into him.
You didn’t know what to do honestly. You tried pushing him away but he just turned you around, making you face him. His eyes looked hungry. Like he had just pounced on his prey and was ready to devour it. “Don’t run pretty” he said before bringing his hand to the back of your head pulling you into a kiss. You tried pushing away but his grip on you was tight.
Changbin pulled the dude off of you with a single swoop he was detached. The other boys who were all doing their own thing not realizing what had been going on came over to help. “Can’t you take a hint? She doesn’t want you” Changbin growled towering over the man. He looked back at you and then back at Changbin. “Whatever dude” he said slinking his way back into the crowd. Hyunjin wrapped his arm around “y/n I’m sorry I thought Seungmin was over here” he said feeling bad for leaving you.
“It’s fine hyun-“ you said your breath shaking.
And almost in cue seungmin had returned from the bathroom. He was a bit confused what was going on “what’s up? Y/n get herself into trouble like always?” He joked.
Hyunjin glared at him turning back to you “I’d say you can come to my room but I uhm- have someone waiting” he said feeling a bit embarrassed.
“What happened?” Seungmin said again.
“Like you actually care” you snapped at him.
“Hey hey, everyone take a breather. Take y/n to the spare room?” Jeongin said.
You pulled yourself away from Hyunjin, you made your way to the room by yourself feeling irritated. However when you slunk into the bed you felt yourself crying. “God this is why I hate these parties” you said curling up in the bed.
The others informed Seungmin about what happened, his eyes widening at his comment he made earlier. However the guilt he felt about it was quickly replaced with anger. He found the dude at the other side of the room. He overheard him talking to another dude saying ‘yeah, she was a hottie, definitely gonna find where she went.’ He continued with ‘she a human, whether she wants it or not I’ll find her’
That was it. Seungmins eyes blew out, he slammed the dude against the wall. He wasted no time pounding on the guy. Claws ripping flesh, teeth biting at anything it could. Although seungmin was smaller than the guy he was agile. “You fucking mutt! I ever fucking catch you near her I’ll fucking end you!” He snarled.
The dude was a mess, face slashed, bite marks at his throat. Everything happened so fast, changbin rushing over throwing seungmin over his shoulder. “That’s enough!” He said. “You get the fuck out of here” he said looking back at the bloodied mess of a man.
Jeongin had came back to bring you some water and check on you. “You alright?” He said softly.
“Fine” you said not turning to look at him.
“Wanna hear something that’ll make you even better?” He said. When you didn’t respond he kept talking “Seungmin beat the shit out of the dude” he said with a chuckle
“What?” You said turning quickly.
“Yeah, dude beat the him good too.” He said getting up. “Drink some water alright?” He said before leaving.
Why would he do that? Why go out of his way to pick a fight with someone bigger? Especially when the relationship you had together was more of a hate filled one.
Seungmin came slinking his way back just a moments later. He didn’t say anything. He locked the door behind him shaking his head that you had it unlocked. He slunk his way beside you wrapping his arms around you. “What, the girl leave?” You said teasingly thinking it was hyunjin. When you turned meeting seungmin eyes you froze. He didn’t meet your eyes letting you turn back around before speaking. “You alright?” He asked.
“Fine” you said softly. “I uh- hear you beat the guy up” you said even softer.
“They can never keep their mouths shut can they?” He sighed. “Yeah well I did, no one should be putting their hands on you” he said.
You could feel the heat coming off of him, his body nestled so close to you. “Thank you” is all you could reply. He hummed in response pulling you to him. “Y/n” he said softly. His breath against your neck making you shutter.
“Hmm?” You hummed.
“You really look pretty” he said his words coming out like honey.
You didn’t know how to respond, your mind going a bit fuzzy. He leaned in more resting his head on your shoulder. His mind was going a mile a minute his foxxy ears twitching at every sound of your breath. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone” he said. “Let me make it up to you?” He said before kissing your neck softly. You let out a soft sigh feeling his soft lips against your skin. “H-how are you gonna do- do that?” You stuttered out.
“Well first” he said his hand wondering down to your thigh. “I’ll make you cum on my tongue” he said licking up your neck. “And then I’ll make you cum on my cock. Do you want that pretty?” He asked hand staying still on you.
As much as you wanted to say no how could you? You’d be lying if you didn’t think seungmin was attractive. That burnt orange hair of his so perfectly kept, those piercing matching eyes. He was handsome annoying but handsome. You nodded.
He gently brought your dress up, pulling your panties down enough to play with your folds. He left soft kisses to your neck as he works his fingers on you before pulling away. He turned you to your back before quickly moving down to your core. You watched with glazed eyes as he took your panties off throwing them somewhere. He kissed your thigh keeping his eyes on you. When his lips finally met your core your body shook. He was slow at first taking his time, sucking at your clit, licking up your folds.
When your taste was all over his tongue he couldn’t help himself. He quickly brought his fingers up to your core fucking them into you. His ears moved hearing the sweet sounds you were making. His cock rock hard in his pants. He groaned as you arched your back moving your hips against his tongue. His other hand kept your thigh to the side nails digging into it. He was devouring you. He needed to taste you, all of you, there was no wasting a single drop of your delicious nectar.
He felt your walls clenching around him making him chuckle a bit. “Cum for me pretty fuck- cum on my tongue”
Your hands gripped his hair tugging on it harshly as you came hard around his fingers. He’d be lying if you pulling his hair didn’t turn him on even more. The moans you let out- he needed you. Fuck did he ever need you. Before you could even come down from your high he was stripping himself of his close, he spit in his hand pumping his cock before pushing fully into you. The stretch wasn’t painful, it felt more heavenly than you could imagine.
You felt him so deep inside you, his tail wrapped around your leg as some sort of way to ground himself. But there was not grounding, not when you were sucking him in so well. Your walls so warm taking everything he had to give. He moved erratically. Eyes locked on yours as he pounded into you. “Seungmin!” You almost screamed hands flying to his back digging your nails into the soft flesh.
“Fuck- d- don’t say my name like that- your- your gonna make me cum to early” he almost whimpered but you couldn’t help it. He was fucking you so well, so fucking deep. His cock head kissed your cervix ever so nicely, it was almost like you were made for him.
“Can’t- can’t help it- feels to good” and oh god did it ever. However the way his cock twitched inside you at your praise made you go crazy. “S’good Minnie- fuck you feel so good!” You said nails digging hard into his back.
He was seeing stars, he was so close already. The little nickname making him whisper out. You were driving him wild, he couldn’t stop himself. His pace picked up, hip smacking against you roughly. “F- feel good? Gonna- gonna cum on my cock?” He slurred out. You moaned in response legs wrapping around his waist as if he was gonna leave. Your walls were clenching around him, he felt like he was gonna die.
“Minnie! I’m- fuck I’m so close!” You said pulling his body close to you. He brought his hand down to play with your clit before finally crashing those pillowy lips to yours. It was a hungry kiss, tongues tangling with each other. Devouring each other’s moans.
You pulled away slightly “Cumming! Fuck- Minnie!” You silently screamed body shaking as your second orgasm washed over you somehow more intense than the first one.
“W-where?” He stuttered out.
“In- fuck please inside!” You said legs clenching tightly around him.
With that he was gone. A few more harsh thrusts before he came deep inside you. Painting your walls a nice white. He rolled to your side, pulling you close making sure not to pull out. He couldn’t, he needed to stay buried deep in you. A few minutes had passed of catching breathes. “Just so you know you’re still annoying” you said trying to break the ice.
He chuckled “yeah? Good. How about I be your annoying boyfriend at least?” He said slyly. Your heart almost stopped.
“Wait- really?” You asked meeting his smiley eyes.
“If you want that is- I’ll make sure know one ever comes near you again.” He said.
“The guys are gonna have a field day with this” you said with a chuckle.
“Yeah well, whatever. So is that a yes?” He asked.
“Yes, Minnie. But you gotta take me on a date. And no murdering anyone” you teased.
“I can’t promise that but I’ll definitely plan something” he said eagerly his ears standing up in excitement.
And oh boy did the boys rag on him for a whole week straight only being shut up when he started talking about fucking you.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵
Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @jehhskz @babigriin @kkamismom12 @jeonginsleftcheek
#2k event#stray kids hybrid au#stray kids#skz#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#stray kids drabble#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#seungmin#seungmin smut#seungmin x reader#seungmin drabbles#seungmin fanfic#stray kids fanfic#kpop smut#kpop drabble#bangchan#changbin#han jisung#hyunjin#jeongin#Lee know#Lee Felix
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Good Graces
exes!steddie x female!reader
summary: coming back from chicago, the last people you expected to see were you exes but for them, the only thing they wondered when they saw you was, what's it gonna take to get back in your good graces?
warnings: eventual smut! 18+ angst, cursing, reader wants to kill steve, , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy..
a/n: i feel like this is going to be a two-parter most likely but i wanted to write this so bad because i love the song off of short n' sweet. i don't usually write for steddie but i was craving this concept. anyways, i hope you and enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this.
You dragged your luggage with a grunt as you passed through baggage claim over to the exit. A part of you was thoroughly regretting bringing two big suitcases but if you were spending two months of your summer in Hawkins, Indiana.
You certainly needed it.
Your eyes wandered all over the place to spot your childhood friend and cousin, Robin. She excitedly waved her hand side to side, an ecstatic grin that reached both of her dimples.
You could spot the balloons and welcome home sign from a mile away and that was enough to confirm that was Robin.
She excitedly waved her hand side to side, an ecstatic grin that reached both of her dimples. She started racing towards you before she almost tripped over the decorations in her hand.
You giggled as you raced over to her to prevent her from causing actual damage to herself, "Jeez Robin, still clumsy?" You asked, snorting.
She rolled her eyes, "This is hard to carry all by yourself!" She exasperated, causing her to pout.
"Aww poor baby," You mocked, pinching her cheek as she swatted your hand away.
Instead of saying anything else, she hugged you. You smiled sweetly, embracing her back, glad to see her and talk to her instead of the same static on the telephone.
"I missed you," You whispered, smile still on your face.
"Uh, I missed you more!" Robin almost yelled, pulling away from you, "You have to tell me everything about Chicago," She said, grabbing on of your suitcases for you.
You started telling Robin about everything and she kept replying with her gasps and 'oohs' when you told her all about acting school.
Even you had to admit that going to Chicago straight out of high school was not exactly a sentence jotted down on your bucket list.
But when you get accepted to one of the top acting schools in Chicago, you can't exactly decline. Of course, you were sad to leave everything behind.
Your friends, your family, even the shitty diner on 15th street but you knew that you would come back to visit, it was guaranteed.
You usually would've stayed with your parents but they decided to go on a three month trip to the Caribbean but they did make it clearly that they would miss your presence.
And you were also glad to be able to spend time with Robin since you hadn't been able to see her in so long.
But you couldn't say you didn't miss her nosy questions or constant rambling,
"You have to tell me about all your latest conquests!" She said, driving but peeking her head at you to encourage you to answer.
You rolled your eyes, "I'm still perplexed that you can even drive, is it even legal for you to drive?" You snickered, changing the subject.
She scoffed, "Okay first of all, I am an amazing driver and second, you aren't changing the subject from the tragic discussion of your love life,"
You gasped offended, "My love life is not tragic!" You folded your arms, "And I just don't feel the need for something like that right now,"
Robin exasperated, "All you have told me about your love life is two exes who you literally call 'fuckface' and 'dickhead' which is not a confirmation of a successful love life," Robin ranted, "And you still have yet to tell me who these mystery men are!"
"They aren't important," You mumbled, nuzzling into the cold window.
Robin sighed, "You shouldn't let whoever those assholes were determine your love life, Y/N."
Robin wasn't usually serious with you but you knew that it did make her sad to see you never truly opening your heart because of two men that had screwed you over.
You shrugged as Robin looked at you, "But I'll still get you Benny's,"
You sat up in excitement, "Are you serious?" You asked, grinning ear to ear.
"Ugh yes, we can even eat the greasy burger in the car like old times," Robin said with a smile as you cheered.
By the time you and Robin had gotten your burgers, you were asking her about her life and what she had been up to as you bit into your greasy cheeseburger.
Robin shoved a few fries in her mouth before talking, "What do you wanna know?" She asked, mouthful.
You swallowed before answering, "Hmm... what are they like? But no names!"
Robin snorted, "Are you really still serious about the 'no name policy'?"
The 'no name policy' came from your acting school where you don't let someone introduce you to someone privately until you actually see them and you only learn their name when you see them.
And Robin also couldn't tell her friends who you were because that would be missing the entire point.
Robin thought it was stupid but you thought it was productive.
"Um yes!" You said loudly, "It's actually incredibly helpful when you think about it."
Robin chuckled, "What if you already know them?"
"Then I'll be reintroduced," You said, smugly.
"Alright," Robin said, "Well one of them is an absolute dingus to the maximum," You giggled as she went on, "But he is pretty funny and kind but clumsy when you meet him, I think you would like him,"
"He seems fun," You replied before Robin moved on.
"Then there's the other one, he's an absolute pothead and extremely eccentric but when you look past that, he's a pretty nice guy and actually really fun to be around, I think you would like him too." Robin said, eating the last bite of her burger.
"That's cool," You smiled.
Robin continued to go on about the different kids there and how the three adults including her were their babysitters which you thought was hilarious.
As you finished up your burger and fries, you threw the trash out before you and Robin were driving towards her house.
"Oh and also, we are going to one of their houses tonight," She said as she checked her watch, "Or as soon as you put your bags down because we are late!" She yelped, urgently parking.
You laughed as you both grabbed your luggage from the trunk, making your way inside the house and to her room. You barely had time to situate yourself before Robin was rushing you because of her own late actions.
By the time you could blink, you were both already inside the car, making it towards her friends house.
"Also," She cleared her throat, "He's kind of loaded so don't make a big deal out of it,"
"How rich are we talking?" You joked with a sly smile.
"Again, he's a dingus with no charm," Robin said, "You will forget he's rich extremely fast,"
You laughed, looking outside despite it being dark. A part of you really missed Hawkins considering you grew up there and you heavily missed the late night car drives that you took.
Another part of you though was scared that you might run into two individuals during your time back home but you were pretty sure Robin wouldn't ever even be in their social circle, let alone her area.
Robin pulled into a house and you couldn't really make out it's features but you could swear that you recognized the street.
Robin unbuckled her seatbelt as she spoke, "We've arrived," She said hauntingly as you giggled.
You both exited the car as you heard laughing and yelling on the inside which cause Robin to bang on the door with a heavy knock, almost as if she was the police.
You hissed at the knock as she shrugged before the door opened and the last person you had expected to see opened the door,
"Robin, I literally said the time to be here was seven, not eight!" He sighed, looking at her before locking eyes with you.
Steve fucking Harrington.
He still looked the exact same, brown curly strands still standing on his head, looking effortlessly perfect. His muscles flexing as he held open the door and same brown doe-eyed eyes that looked at you with a certain glint.
Not even his outfits had changed, same jeans and striped polo shirt, you wanted to choke him.
Or fuck him, it was hard to decide.
"Okay well, I had to pick my cousin up from the airport and I got sidetracked!" She whined, speaking to Steve but his eyes were locked onto yours, "And speaking of my cousin, this is Y/N." Robin introduced.
Silence sat there for a few more seconds that felt like minutes as you and Steve looked each other. He looked uneasy but you knew your face was showing a disgruntled look as Robin looked at the both of you.
He coughed, snapping out of it, "Uh hi,"
You stood there with the same look on her face as Robin looked like a lightbulb popped on top of her head.
Her mouth made an 'o' shape, "Do you guys know each other?"
"This is one of the exes," You said as you clicked your teeth and Robin looked as if she found out something outrageous.
"Wait which one? The one who broke up with you after taking your virginity and started dating another girl or the one you caught sleeping with another girl after his concert," Robin asked.
"Robin!" You squealed, looking at her as if you wanted to choke her.
"I'm curious!" She replied as Steve continued looking at the both of you with the same wide-eyed expression.
You waved her off before you looked back at Steve, "Whatever, I don't give a shit anymore," You said, shoving his shoulder as you entered the house you had seen a multitude of times before.
You and Steve Harrington's relationship was not something to call home about. You had dated him before he was Steve 'The King' Harrington. He was so sweet for the first part of your relationship, when it was the beginning of school and clique's weren't sorted.
This was until Carol and Tommy had recruited him and their first proclamation was that he dumped you if he ever wanted to be anything in Hawkins High.
So you met up with Steve that night and you both said that you had things to talk about. After some back and forth, he let you go first and you told him you were finally ready to give up your virginity.
And let's just say, instead of breaking up with you there and then, he decided to do the most absolute dickhead thing and take it anyway. After, you were happy and it was a great first time, Steve was kind and compassionate.
He drove you home and then your life hit a certain darkness when you went to school the next day. Instead of seeing your boyfriend immediately, Carol and Tommy approached you in the parking and they told you that Steve had broken up with you and found something better.
And then in between periods, you saw him and a girl named Susie Blickens extremely close to each other as she twirled her hair and he rested his hand above her head on the locker.
Not only did you wanna puke but you were fucking furious. Of course, you were sad, there wasn't counting how many times you had cried over him but eventually, all of it turned to anger.
He would walk past you as if nothing happened and that was when you swore that you would always hate his guts till the day you die.
Hence, why he looks like a dear in headlights seeing you.
As you entered the living room, you were greeted by all of the teenagers on the couch, causing absolute chaos.
A kid named Dustin introduced himself to you first, offering a handshake which made you laugh before he continued arguing with his friend.
The rest of them just smiled at you but you figured you would learn their names throughout the night.
You sat in the empty arm chair facing away from the front door and Steve in general. You could hear Robin and Steve whisper arguing but it did not intrigue you.
"So you go to school in Chicago?" A girl named Max asked you as you politely smiled.
"Yeah," You responded.
"And how is it?" A girl named El followed up.
"It's pretty fun, the windy city is exactly what you think it would be." You answered.
"Did you meet any cute boys?" Max asked as a boy you presumed was her boyfriend yelped a 'hey!'
You both giggled, "They are pretty okay but they aren't as interesting as you would think."
The two girls you were talking to giggled as they began whispering as you clapped your hands in your lap, looking around Steve's house.
Nothing had changed much but you were happy to see more pictures added to the walls. You knew Steve didn't have the best relationship with his parents but in a way, his house looked more homely.
Maybe he did that himself.
You watched the kids bicker a few minutes more as you watched the dynamics between them all. You were actually having a semi good time for the most part and were pretty sure the night couldn't get worse.
You felt a hand cup the top of the arm rest before speaking, "Wow, you let the pretty girl steal my seat," The voice you recognized all too well spoke.
Oh fuck no.
You looked behind you to see Eddie Munson who had the same expression that Steve did, trying his best to find the words to say to you.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" You asked as the kids snapped their neck at your foul language.
Eddie gulped, "Y/N,"
You were pretty sure a vein was popping from your forehead and by the way Eddie was looking at you, it was almost as if your hair was on fire.
"Is Robin friends with every asshole in Hawkins?" You meant to ask in your head but said it instead out loud.
"Maybe," Eddie sent an awkward laugh which only made you angrier, "Listen, I know we didn't end on the best of-" He started.
You stopped him immediately, "Are you seriously about to say the best of terms? You fucking cheated on me!" You yelled as Eddie hissed in pain, as if you were touching him with a hot iron.
The kids gasped, full attention on you and Eddie but there was not a bone in your body that cared.
"Y/N, I swear I've changed and I tried apologizing many times," He tried his best to mediate but it was to no avail.
"I meant what I said the day you did it, you can go fuck yourself and I will hate you till the I die," You spat, pushing past him, moving towards Robin.
With Eddie, you didn't need that many words to explain the situation. He was different from Steve and the second boy that you genuinely liked. He made you laugh and gave you free pot which was both a great deal.
And you had to admit that he gave the best head to ever exist.
But when you went to one of his concerts for his band, Corroded Coffin, you went backstage to surprise him and caught a blonde giving him head.
He almost had the same look he had when he just saw you.
But let's just say it didn't end the best when you grabbed the blonde haired girl by her hair and started hitting Eddie with the fan you were using to cool yourself down.
It took a while for Gareth to get you off of Eddie but you eventually just walked away and never spoke to Eddie again despite his desperate tries over the phone and at your house.
And that was that.
Steve was next to Robin but she swatted him away as she sees you approaching, "How did you manage to become friends with the two most heinous men in Hawkins?" You asked, genuinely pissed.
Robin looked lost for words, "I mean okay, I get that maybe you would've dated one but I didn't expect for you to date both Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson!" She rambled, "I can't believe those are the faces behind fuckface and dickhead,"
"It's not your fault," You groaned, "I'm just shocked and choosing whether to kill them or just heavily injure them." Your jaw moved to the side as you glanced behind them as they were both peering at you, looking away once you saw them, trying to play it off.
"Listen, I know they are absolute buttheads but I swear they've changed and I won't try to convince you but I'm begging you to give them a chance," Robin implored.
You sighed, not wanting to cause a rift between Robin and her friends even if you hated them more than anything in the world.
"Okay," Is all you said as Robin let out a breath.
"Okay," She repeated.
She led you both to the couch as you sat down next to her on the big couch with Eddie peering at you in his armchair and Steve running his hand through his hair aggressively as he sat next to Robin.
Even the kids could feel the tension in the room. Robin broke the silence with a laugh before speaking, "Okay! How about we play Monopoly?" She asked as everyone agreed in little 'yeahs' and 'sures.'
You were surprised Eddie didn't argue for D & D.
Mike grabbed the game, laying it in on the coffee table. The kids yelled for which little figurines they wanted but Steve quickly snatched the dog before looking at you.
He reached over Robin to hand it to you as you looked at him with a hateful expression, "Uh, I just remember it being your favorite to play with." He muttered.
A part of you wanted to scoff and grab another figurine but he had been right, it was your favorite.
Sadly, it only brought you back the the memories of when you and Steve dated.
"I still don't understand why you like playing this game considering I always school you," You cockily said as Steve mockingly laughed.
His face went close to yours, "We always know I win," He said, giving you a light peck before you could respond.
You smiled, "Alright Harrington, let's test your bluff,"
He set the game down on the table as he began setting up the board and the money.
You reached to grab your dog figurine before he snatched it from you within seconds, causing you to frown.
"But if I take your good luck charm, maybe I could win," He snickered as you rolled your eyes.
"In your dreams," You said, acting like you didn't care.
Steve watched you with a grin for a few seconds before approaching you, slipping the dog into your grip.
You smiled sweetly as Harrington grabbed your waist, "I'll always let you have the dog if it means I get to see you happy,"
You scrunched your nose, "You are the corniest person I know,"
"You know you love it," He whispered, kissing you again,
You hesitated, taking the miniature sized dog, not daring to say anything to him. Steve watched to see if you would smile but your facial reaction didn't change.
He frowned as Eddie began speaking, "Okay, let's do this!"
The kids immediately started to somehow play Monopoly aggressive which only earned a laugh from you. What made you laugh even harder was seeing how passionate Eddie, Steve, and Robin were about the game.
A little part of you had missed being around all of them in their own separate way.
Chicago was fun but it didn't have the same home feeling that you got when you were back at Hawkins.
After a couple rounds and your money only slipping, you excused yourself to get a soda.
"Do you need help finding anything?" Steve asked, already ready to get up from his seat.
"I'm sure I'll be fine," You said quickly, moving towards the kitchen.
Steve sunk into his seat as you began reaching to grab a cup from the cupboard above you. Before you could go on your tippy toes, a taller hand grabbed it for you as you sighed.
You turned around to see Eddie only inches away from you as he placed the glass down next to you.
You only glared at him as he smirked, eyeing you up and down which only earned a scoff from you.
Not that you would ever say this out loud, Eddie still never hesitated to make you nervous. From his tattoos to leather jacket and the way he would eye you, it made you feel like a teen girl again.
He was still the bad boy and as much as you wanted to act unbothered, it still turned you on.
Silence passed between the both of you for several seconds, trying to see who would break first.
"Can you not?" You asked, crossing your arms.
"She speaks!" He over-dramatically yells!
"You are a joke," You said, trying to move past him as he only caged you in.
He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "You used to like it,"
A shiver crept down your spine as you tried to keep your composure.
"You are not gonna flirt your way into getting me to forget that you cheated on me!" You argued as Eddie swirled his tongue in his mouth, looking up with a hand still leaning on the cupboard.
"How many times do I have to apologize?" He asked, looking at you.
"Instead of apologizing, I can suggest you trying to go fuck yourself," You spat, shoving him but he still kept his body in the same place.
"I just don't do it like you," He pouted which only caused red, hot anger to fill you.
You slapped him which only caused a smile from Eddie as he moved closer to your face, a hand moving to your waist.
"There she is," He grinned against your ear as you looked at Eddie, a part of you wanting to close the gap.
Suddenly, you heard a cough from behind Eddie as you looked over to see Steve. He looked flustered, watching the sight of you and Eddie.
You finally pushed Eddie hard out of the way, moving past Steve before exiting as you rushed over to Robin, "Can we leave now?" You asked, a begging look in your eyes.
"Yeah, why?" She asked, looking at you but you only pleaded with your eyes,
"Okay, let me just tell Steve." She said, handing you her keys.
You quickly said your goodbye's to the teens as you exited outside of the door before Eddie or Steve could catch up to you. You went inside the passenger side of the car as you wanted to scream.
The hatred you felt for Steve and Eddie was consuming but a heavier force was the effect they still had on you.
Steve was kind and compassionate, showing you the golden side of love which you always showered in.
And then there's Eddie who's rough and taunting, showing you the toxic side which never failed to make you falter within seconds.
Instead of only having one to resist, both only made you more turned on.
And if you were feeling this now,
Who knows how the rest of the summer will go?
#steddie x reader angst#steddie x fem!reader#steddie x reader fluff#steddie x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson angst#eddie munson angst x reader#eddie munson fluff x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve stranger things#steve harrington x reader angst#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington requests#singmyaubade#steve harrington#stranger things#eddie munson x steve harrington#eddie munson x afab reader#steve harrington x afab!reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steddie blurb#steddie#steddie x you#steddie x y/n#daddy eddie
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did i add slight fluff at the end bc i can’t bare angst (even though i wrote it myself) ?? yes. but that’s not important
loser!miguel who isn’t at all amused when he first meets you, his new lab assistant who is so insistent on kindness in the workplace, especially in the forms of physical contact.
loser!miguel who has to adapt to you because he’s never met someone like you before. most people avoid him like the plague, intimated by both his personality and appearance. but you don’t care, you just keep pushing his boundaries much to his dismay.
you can’t take a hint, no matter how many times he yells at you or shrugs off your hugs you keep acting the same. yes, you pour countless apologies out of your heart, arms itching to pull him into a sympathetic hug, but for some reason you can’t stop seeking out some form of physical contact.
loser!miguel who slowly becomes accustomed to your high fives whenever a project goes successfully, your good morning hand squeezes as you slide next to him at the desk, the good evening hugs that leave his heart hammering.
loser!miguel who lets you lean on him when the meetings get too long, enjoying the fact that it’s him you chose out of everyone else.
loser!miguel who suddenly can’t get enough of you. he’s gotten that sliver of attention and it’s gone straight to his cock head.
loser!miguel who has experience with women but has never been as infatuated with anyone as much as you. he finds himself thinking of you at the most random moments of the day, wondering if you’ll like certain things, how hard you’d laugh at the crude joke someone on the subway made, how you’d feel pressed between his body and his bedsheets.
loser!miguel who ends up stalking you on instagram, desperately trying not to get hard at the sight of you posing with your friends at the beach. it’s not his fault your swimsuit leaves so little to the imagination.
loser!miguel who gets lost in the way your bare thighs look that he ends up falling down a rabbit hole of impure thoughts.
his mind is plagued with thoughts of your thighs smothering his face as he laps at your aching cunt, the plush skin covered in bite marks and his saliva.
he can’t stop thinking about how easily his cock would slip in and out of them as he fucks your from behind, hand covering your mouth as he pressed you against the wall of the lab, whispering sickly sweet praise that makes your gummy walls flutter around him perfectly.
loser!miguel who has to start rejecting your hugs because the thought of you feeling his erection while innocently wishing him a good night makes him… hard ?
loser!miguel who hates the way you frown whenever he rejects your hugs. you thought you were making progress !! but now he just tells you now is not the time or just simply ignores you.
it stings right to his core seeing your pretty smile falter as you slump away. he can’t bring himself to apologise but he can’t hug you, not when his cock is throbbing from the smell of you.
loser!miguel who palms himself off in the shower to the thought of your hugs, the one he denied just hours ago. how badly he craves the warmth of your embrace, to feel your body pressed against him while telling him to get home safe.
he’s never had someone care about him like this before.
loser!miguel who buys countless fucktoys but no flesh light can mimic the warmth of feeling your cunt, the feeling he’s made up inside his head anyways.
his off days are spent one of two ways: fucking his fist and/or toys relentlessly to your instagram, or simply staking out the coffee shop you mentioned briefly in conversation weeks ago.
loser!miguel who finally can’t hold back when you completely give up on trying to hug him. you don’t even approach him anymore, just look up at him with wide puppy dog eyes as you call out a somber farewell from the other side of the lab.
he walks up to you as you slip your jacket on, gaze flickering down to your chest momentarily before landing on your face. “can i walk you to your car?”
“i get the train.”
“then let me walk you there then.”
> next
#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#spider man 2099#spiderman 2099#miguel x reader#miguel x you#fluff#miguel fluff#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara smut#miguel#miguel x y/n#miguel smut#loser miguel
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