#i feel like it sounds way fancier than it is | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nanaslutt · 1 year ago

Note

Lol I just keep thinking about perv!geto taking her on a proper date for once lmao

PervyRoomate!Geto x reader

note: i have a running series of perv!geto u can find here // but you can read this w/ out context :3

Contains: fem reader, sex toys, exhibitionism, sexual tension, teasing, possessive!Suguru, fingering, car shenanigans, humiliation, degradation, praise, an unhealthy amount of dirty talk, Suguru has a big dick, nipple play, panty stealing, talk of masturbation, belly bulge if you squint, creampie,

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

A knock was rapped on your wooden door, interrupting a very important part of the drama you were currently watching. "What?" You yelled from your bed, not taking your eyes off the messy breakup scene in front of you. Your door squeaked open to reveal a handsome Suguru, looking too dressed up at 3pm on a Friday. He wasn't adorned in anything particularly fancy, but you weren't really used to seeing him in anything other than grey joggers and some band t-shirt.

You gave him a quick one over, admiring the black slacks that fit his thighs too well, the white button-up shirt he had tucked into them, and a like-new looking belt that was half on, as his fingers made quick work to thread the prong through the belt hole. "What are you doing? I told you I was taking you out tonight." He said, raising his eyebrows. It's not that you looked bad, but you weren't exactly ready for five-star cuisine in your booty shorts and tank top. "Riiight.. are you ready to go? or?" You asked, looking around the room in confusion before your eyes landed on his.

When he finished looping the belt through the buckle, he crossed his arms and leaned against his doorframe, smirking at you. "Get that disgusting look off your face," you cringed at him, pushing your laptop aside as you pulled your body up to sit crisscross on your bed. "I'm not taking you to McDonalds baby." He laughed, confusing you even more. "Okayy.. so where are we going?" you asked. You fully expected him to name some sit-down diner that was one or two marks fancier than a Mcdonald's, but you weren't expecting him to name the most expensive and highly rated restaurant in town.

Your mouth fell agape as you stood watching the dark-haired man in the doorway laugh at you. "Don't take offense to this, but you're not exactly the most wealthy person I know." You said, still looking at him in disbelief. "If Gojo asked me out to this place, sure, that might sound a little more realis-" "Don't talk about that idiot taking you out in front of me." Geto interrupted, uncrossing his legs as he shoved his hands in his pockets and closed his eyes, giving you a smile that did little to cover up his animosity.

Ever since you and Geto had started fucking around pretty regularly, you have noticed a change in his demeanor whenever Gojo would hit on you. It wasn't like it was anything new, Gojo has been hitting on you for years, for as long as Geto has been bringing him around, you think. Before you and Suguru started hooking up, whenever Gojo would flirt with you he would brush the white-haired man off for the most part, maybe give him a scoff or incredulous look if his attempt at a pickup line was really that horrid on the ears.

Recently though, whenever Gojo tried to hit on you, or his touch would linger a little longer than it should, Geto was quick to intervene. Putting himself between the two of you physically, or butting into the conversation to shut down his attempts. Geto knew you weren't interested in Gojo in the slightest, but he couldn't help but feel that greed-eyed monster of jealousy bubble up inside him whenever you laughed a little too hard at his jokes, or in this case, brought him up in conversation unprovoked.

"Sorry~ Didnt realize he was such a sore subject for you.." You teased, "Unriquitted love, maybe?" He knew you were trying to push his buttons, but you weren't far off. Just not in the way you were thinking, because he sure as hell wasn't interested in Gojo like that either. He sighed, before gripping something in his pocket and pulling it out of his pants, keeping it concealed in his fist.

"Anyways, I don't even know what I would wear to this place!" You said exasperated, glancing over to rake your eyes through your closet to see if anything caught your eye. Without making a sound, Geto slipped out of the room and quickly returned with a dark red bag, tossing it into your lap and landing it perfectly between your crossed legs. You peeked inside the bag and saw some sort of black fabric, you crunched your eyebrows together, looking back up at him. "Wear that." He said, his smirk returning to his face.

Your lips dropped open slightly, a small gap being created between your lips. "Sugu.. If you robbed a bank you know I would never tell anyone.. right?" You said, all too seriously. The man burst out in laughter, "Fuck! I'm not as broke as you think!" He spoke through his laughter, holding his hand over his chest. "Just got a raise at work is all, couldn't think of a better way to spend my first fat check." He crossed his arms again, keeping the one fist balled up as he did so.

"Oh shit, congratulations Sugu! I'm actually not a great liar so I probably would've told someone about the whole robbing a bank thing." You said, clicking your tongue, "Sorry." He giggled at your words, rolling his eyes. "Oh, I know." He spoke, watching your face beam as you pulled out the beautiful black dress he bought you. "Oh yeah, bought just the thing to wear with that too." He smiled in faux innocence, unballing his fist he dangled a pair of skimpy, black lace panties in front of him.

They weren't just any panties though, you could see on the crotch of those panties that would be pressed against your cunt, a flat teardrop-shaped silicone vibrator adorned the fabric. Your jaw really dropped now as you stared at the piece in disbelief. He wasn't really expecting you to wear remote-controlled panties in the fanciest restaurant in town, right? "Pretty, huh?" His voice filled the room when you didn't react. "You never change, huh?" You sighed, holding your hand out in front of you as he tossed the panties over to where you sat.

A big part of you thought this was a horrible idea, knowing how sensitive you are, but another, less rational part of you couldn't help but get excited at the thought of Suguru having full control of getting you off with a little remote control in his pocket, while the two of you dined in the fanciest atmosphere you had yet to immerse yourself in. "Pervert." You said, looking up at him under your lashes as you stretched the panties between your fingers, admiring how well made they were.

Suguru giggled, walking over to the bed you sat on, his knees bumping into the mattress as he reached out and took the panties away from you. "Hey-" "Need some help putting them on?" He asked, twirling them around on his finger. You scoffed, "Suguru, why would I need help putting on a pair of panties, just-" You tried and failed to snatch them back from his hands as he yanked them out of your reach. "You sure?" He said, continuing to twirl them as he started to back out of the room with a mischievous grin on his face. You threw your hand up in the air in defeat, giving him a 'what the hell' look before he closed the door behind him on the way out.

"How am I supposed to wear them tonight if you just kidnapped them!!" You yelled through the door, hearing his footsteps descend further away from you. With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself off of your comfortable mattress and began getting ready for the night ahead of you.

Smoothing out your dress in the mirror, you turned your body around and checked out your own ass in the mirror, and lord was it an ass to behold. It's like Suguru had taken your measurements in the middle of the night to make sure this dress absolutely fitted your figure in the most flattering way; honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if he did. You absolutely wouldn't be mad that's for sure. You had done up your hair and face and adorned your feet with the nicest pair of black heels you owned. You looked absolutely perfect to the unknowing eye.. the only thing missing? Your panties. The absence of something hugging you down there made you feel a little vulnerable, but otherwise, you felt perfect.

After a quick one-over to make sure everything was as it should be on your figure, you stepped out of your room, shutting off the lights and closing the door as you left. Your heels clicked on the wooden floor as you made your way into the living room, where Geto had splayed himself out on your shared couch. His big thighs spread wide on the cushions, his arms spread out behind him on the back of the couch. He looked edible; the way his pecs were pressed tightly against his shirt from how he was stretching his arms apart made you want to pounce on him and play with his massive chest; who was the pervert now?

Right when you finished checking the man out, he noticed your presence, tilting his head to the side, his eyes doubled in size, his eyebrows raising to make room for them. He let his head fall back on the couch, a grin spreading across his face as he raked his eyes over your body before his eyes settled on yours, giving you a whistle. "Yeah, I chose the right dress, you look fucking edible." He complimented, licking his bottom lip before he briefly took it into his mouth.

"Wait till you see my ass." You teased, placing your hand on your hip and tipping your head at him. "Oh yeah?" Geto raised an eyebrow challengingly. Tipping his chin down he stood from his spot on the couch, heavy steps walking over to where you stood in the entrance of the living room. He stuck his hand out to you, signaling for you to grab it. "Give me a spin baby," Geto whispered into the quiet room, the tv playing some unimportant show in the background as you placed your hand in his. He lifted your arm, slowly spinning you around, making sure to get a good look at your ass in the dress.

He whisted again, "Oh yeah~ fucking perfect." He said, spinning you back around to face him again as he released your hand and fished for something in his pocket. "Only missing one thing~" He said, raising his eyebrows at you knowingly. "Yeah, gimmie that shit, feels weird with nothing down there." You said, holding your hand out to him. "Nuh-uh," He said, tsking at you. You scrunched your eyebrows at him in annoyance. Though he didn't give you much time to pout as he dropped on one knee, opening up the leg holes of the panties for you to step in as his eyes watched your expression from the floor.

You felt your face heat up, this position was so intimate it flustered you. "H-huh?" was the only thing you could muster. "C'mon, we gotta get going if we wanna make out reservation on time." He cooed, nodding his head at you. "Do I just-" You started, raising your heel-clad foot from the floor as you poked it into the hole of the panties. "Mhm.. and here I thought you said you didn't need any help putting your panties on?" He teased, washing away some of your embarrassment as it was replaced with irritation.

You kept quiet, stepping into the other hole of the panties and letting him slide the material up your body teasingly. He rose from his position on the floor, standing in front of you in his entirety as he kept his eyes on his hands, where he was moving the cloth up your body. The dress was being bunched up to your mid-thigh, and would soon rest on your hips the higher he dragged the panties up. Once he saw your cunt come into view, the panties only centimeters from touching your throbbing clit, he gazed back up into your eyes, watching your reaction closely.

You swallowed whatever saliva was still in your day mouth, keeping your eyes on his. He watched your eyes flutter, your nose sucking in a breath as he pulled the panties up to your hips, the cold silicone being pressed against your cunt and creating a delicious friction between your legs. Smirking, Suguru slid your dress back down your thighs and smoothed it out before placing his hands on the small of your waist and caressing the skin there. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling yourself throb between your legs with the added pressure and the intensity in which he was staring at you.

"How's that feel?" He said, sliding his hands up and down the sides of your body before sliding his hands to your ass and gripping the fat there, simultaneously pressing your body closer to his, his knee sliding between yours and making the dress wrinkle at the bottom. "Feels good." You nod. Geto tilted his head down, looking between your lips and eyes as one of his hands left your waist to dig in his pockets, out of your view. "Yeah?" He said, licking his lips. "Let's just make sure everything is in working order before we go, yeah?" He whispered agaisnt your lips, neither of you daring to close the distance.

The tension was thick in the air when you nodded, the man in front of you mimicking your nod, whispering a quiet yeah. Your breath hitched in your throat, your legs wobbling slightly when you felt the soft vibration tickle against your clit. Geto's jaw dropped as he watched your reaction to the toy buzzing against your sensitive bud. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head before closing completely when he upped the intensity of the vibrations. "It hittin' the right spot?" He asked, leaning in to whisper against your neck when you tipped it back.

"You let him pull your body tighter against his own, his knee pressing against the toy against your cunt, increasing the feeling as you let your jaw drop, moaning quietly into the air as he left soft, barely-there kisses against your throat. "Y-yes, it's on the right spot." You confirmed. Your legs felt like jello at the stimulation combined with how palpable the tension filling the room was. "Vibrating on 'ur little clit?" You knew he knew how much his voice turned you on, and fuck was it turning you on. "Yes," you whimpered breathily, squeezing your thighs around his larger one between your legs.

"Bet it feels so good." He said, biting your neck gently before pulling away to look at your face, expression painted with lust. You just gave him a nod, gasping as you started to rock yourself on his thigh. "Oh~ Horny girll~" He teased, pulling his body back to watch you hump slowly along his toned thigh. Just when you were falling into a rhythm, the buzzing stopped. When you cracked your eyes open to scold him, you were met with a cocky-looking Geto, smiling mischievously at you. You sighed, realizing how the rest of the night was going to go.

"Oh my, look at the time!" He said dramatically, holding the expensive watch Gojo got him for his most recent birthday out in front of him. "There are no batteries in that watch, Suguru." You call him out, deadpanning. "I'm all-knowing, I don't need a watch to tell me we're going to be late if we don't leave now." He said, patting your ass before he pulled away, you instantly missed the pressure his knee brought between your thighs.

The ride to the restaurant was short but dreadful. He had kept his warm hand on your thigh the entire time, rubbing his thumb teasingly against the inside of your leg, slowly rubbing higher and higher, making you think he was going to touch you, but he ultimately pulled away. You kept waiting to feel the vibration against your clit, but it never came. You just throbbed pathetically with no relief in sight during the ten-or-so-minute drive, although your increased arousal made it feel like hours.

He patted his hand on your thigh when he parked the car, turning his head to look at your hot and bothered face, giving you a charming smile before killing the engine and sliding out of his driver's seat, ordering you not to move before he shut the door. Your roommate popped open your door, holding his hand out for you to help you out of the car. "Such a gentleman." You said, half sarcastically. He smirked, closing the door behind you. He felt his heard skip a beat when you laced your arm with his as the two of you made a short stroll towards the establishment.

Even the outside of the building called you poor in twenty different languages. It was lit up beautifully, the tinted windows giving you a little peek at the rich interior of the building. "You nervous?" He asked as the two of you approached the door. "A little, I've never been somewhere so fancy before." You replied honestly. "Yeah? Just stay close to me, all you gotta do is stay on my arm and look pretty." He cooed.

Geto's confidant demeanor made you hot in the face and other places. You felt like a trophy he was showing off to the world, his confidence rubbing off on you as the two of you walked into the establishment. You approached the man in the front, dressed in a full suit, taking reservation names before you were seated. Geto didn't miss the way the blonde young man blushed as he gave you a one-over, admiring your body before clearing his throat and asking Geto for the name on the reservation. You were too busy looking around the establishment to notice the man's glances, but you did feel Geto's arm squeeze tighter around yours.

"R-right this way." He said, bowing his arm in front of him before starting a trail to the semi-secluded table he would bring you to. The lights hanging above the tables were dim and elegant, it felt strangely warm and comfortable, making you relax your shoulders. "I think our host has a little crush on you~" Geto whispered into your ear, making you jolt out of your daze. "H-huh?" You said, looking up at the dark-haired man in confusion. "You really are so oblivious." He said, giggling, "Someone might try to eat you up one day, you should be more aware." His word irritated you for some reason, but then again, everything he did irritated you.

"Asshole, I'm self-aware. Not everyone is a pervert like you." You spat, averting your gaze to the back of the host boy as you continued your pace to the table. "You'd be surprised." Was the last thing Geto said before the host stopped in front of you, raising his arm out to the table, signaling the two of you to sit. "Thank you." You said to the host, your eye contact making the young man blush as he nodded and said a quick, "My pleasure." before leaving.

"Oh, he's so into you." Geto giggled, sliding into the booth. The seating he gave you looked to be the most beautiful in the restaurant. He had sat you in the corner of the room, a beautiful vintage-looking red light hung between the two of you, the window immediately to your left giving you a view of the Holiday-esc decorated street, twinkling with white lights and garland. You ignored his comment, taking in the scenery as you relaxed into the comfortable cushion, almost forgetting about the toy hiding inside your panties.

"It's so beautiful, Suguru." You said. He fully expected you to curse him out for the comment about the host, so when he received this response instead he was quite taken aback. At that moment he felt his heart race in his chest, but simultaneously a feeling of sadness crept over him. He wished he could afford to take you to places like this more often. Maybe if you were with someone like Satoru, you would get to experience this more. "Suguru?" You called out to him, tilting your head at his far away look.

"Sorry," He replied, being snapped out of his stupor, looking back to you. You looked so beautiful under the dim glow of the red-tinted lights, he wanted to lean across the table and take your lips against his. "It is beautiful." He agreed. You still felt like something was off, but his mood didn't seem odd enough to ruin the night, so you let it be for now. "What made you want to take me here?" You asked, glancing through the wine menu in front of you. He smirked at you, "What, you don't like it? I thought it was beautiful." He teased.

You kicked his shin gently under the table. "Don't be dumb, of course I like it. I've just never been to a place with a set menu before.. and I don't think you have either." You smiled at him. "I've been to a place like this with Satoru before, just once, It seemed like somewhere you deserve to be taken." He answered honestly, grabbing the wine menu to look at himself when you slid it across the wite tablecloth. His words made you blush, you silently thanked the owner of the restaurant for choosing the red lights, it was saving you the embarrassment of Geto pointing out your flushed face.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but you know I love this just as much as when you take me to get McDonald's you know." You giggled. You were sure if anyone around you had heard the comparison of this establishment to a place light McDonalds, their heads might screw off in astonishment. Your words eased the self consciousness in his chest, only you would say something like that. "Plus, I might start acting spoiled if I don't be careful about coming to places like this." You giggled, making him smile.

"What if I want you to be spoiled?" He responded, his tone making you squeeze your thighs together under the table. "You spoil me enough, Suguru." You respond, your sultry voice uttering his name made his pants feel tight. The mood was quickly shifting from romantic to a more lust-filled one. "Yeah?" He responded, slipping his hand into his pant pocket to find the remote connected to the panties, just rubbing his thumb around the button. You nodded, poking his shin with the tip of your heel under the table, your flirty ministrations being hidden by the long white tablecloth.

"How so?" He asked, tilting his head as he pressed the on button of the vibrator, sending a dull vibration against your clit. He watched your eyes flutter at the stimulation, humming out a "hmm?" when he did so. "You're spoiling me r-right now. Always thinking of ways to make me f-feel good." You replied, taking deep breaths to ensure a whine wouldn't slip out. "Am I?" He replied, leaning back against the booth, upping the vibration with the remote in his pants as he watched you jerk forward.

"Suguru-" You wined quietly, biting your lip as you squeezed your thighs together. "Feel good when you cross your legs, baby?" He whispered, leaning his forearms on the table as he tried to look at your expression from your head tipped forward, eyes shut at the intensity. You didn't know how he knew you were crossing your legs, but you nodded in response anyway. "The waiter is coming baby, pull yourself together." He whispered before sitting back, averting his gaze from you as he watched a new man approach your table. You grit your teeth in irritation, if he really wanted you to 'pull yourself together' he would stop the toy.

You swallowed hard, trying to take steady deep breaths into your lungs, smiling at the nice-looking waiter as he approached the table. "What do you want to drink, honey~" He cooed, egging you on by using the ridiculous pet name. The moment you opened your mouth to speak, he upped the vibration twice, making your body jerk forward. Of course, the waiter just had to ask if you were alright. "Yeah, you alright?" Geto chimed in, hiding his smile with faux concern on his face. You waved your hands in front of yourself, "Hiccups." You said, trying to muster up a smile as you glared at the dark-haired man across the table from you.

"Ill order, we'll take the-" Geto's voice faded out as he interacted with the waitor as you bit your tongue, your stomach clenching at each vibration, feeling yourself drip into the panties. You placed your elbow on the table when the man walked away, squeezing your eyes shut you covered your mouth, moans occasionally being muffled against your hand. "Fuck, that was so hot." Geto laughed, feeling himself twitch in his pants. You looked up at him once you cracked your eyes open again, eyebrows scrunched together in pleasure as your thighs squeezed tightly against one another.

"I'll give you a break." He said, reaching into his pocket he switched off the remote, making your muscles unclench as your hand fell from your mouth, gasping as quietly as you could into the air. Geto pulled the tablecloth over his lap so he could grope himself over his pants without anyone seeing him act so indecently. You had no smart remarks left in your brain, you weren't sure if Geto knew how close you had just been to cumming in front of the waitor, but with how breathless he looked you thought he might've had some idea.

You were the one with a toy pressed against your most sensitive spot right now, but just from seeing your reactions alone, Geto was feeling all hot and bothered. Every time you inhaled sharply or your body jerked, he felt his cock leak into his boxers. "Is this okay?" He asked, continuing to rub his cock slowly, giving himself some sort of relief. You nodded, your expression very obviously coated in lust.

"Good, this shit is making me so hard you know that?" He confessed, looking into your eyes. You forced a smile through the arousal, "Maybe next time, you should be the one with a vibrator on your cock." You teased, making him laugh through a groan. "Yeah, might have to let me borrow those panties when you're done here." You clenched your thighs together at the thought of a big strong Suguru with dainty panties pressed against his hard cock, undoubtedly most of his length would be poking out through the top of the panties, and that just fueled your arousal even more.

"Suguru." You wined, covering your mouth once more, he tilted his head at you, feeling you run your leg up his shin, teasing higher and higher as you stroked your heel-clad foot on his thigh, making him hiss in a breath, abandoning the hand on his cock and placing it on the cushion next to him. "Turn it on." You said from behind your hand, looking into his eyes with half-lidded ones. The way you were getting so into this made his face feel hot, his cock twitching under his pants when he felt the tip of your heel press softly against his balls.

He listened to your instruction, switching the vibration on once more, you sucked in a breath, continuing to rub your foot against his crotch. "So naughty." He giggled through his arousal, watching you swallow hard at how good the vibration felt. "Your wine," A voice came out of nowhere, catching the two of you off guard as the waitor seemed to appear out of thin air, filling your glass with the red liquid before repeating the same to Geto. Your heart was racing out of your chest, quickly you snapped out of whatever horny trance you had been in, retracting your foot from Geto's crotch you crossed your legs once more.

Geto smiled at you as you watched the waitor pour the wine, feeling the throbbing in his pants intensify with the loss of your foot on his cock. "Came to your senses?" Geto giggled, switching off the vibrator so you could relax once more. You blushed, embarrassed about how shameless you had just been. You had almost completely forgotten you were in public. "You make me lose them." You said, the vein on your forehead popping out at his audacity. He laughed, reaching over the table to take your hand in his, stroking his thumb over the back of your hand.

You welcomed the feeling, feeling your irritation wash away. "Sorry, truly, didn't mean to embarrass you, sweetheart." He said, smiling more authentically at your face, still screwed in annoyance. You sighed, his charm melting away your annoyance, "It's fine, dude came outta fuckin' nowhere." You complained, pouting. Geto laughed, "I didn't notice him either, sneaky bastard." His shared animosity made you laugh, easing your nerves as the two of you fell into a comfortable conversation.

The rest of the dinner had gone smoothly, the two of you almost completely forgetting about the vibrating panties as you immersed yourself in the conversation, that was until the desert was brought out. Vanilla ice cream and some fancy-looking dessert next to it, looking too pretty to eat. The both of you thanked the waiter, plastering smiles on your faces until he walked out of view. "Suguru I cant do it." "Fuck I'm so glad you said something, I need to take my belt off before I explode.. and it's not for the reason it normally is when I'm with you." He said seriously, making you laugh.

"This place is so expensive though, I feel bad just leaving this here untouched." You said, raking your eyes over the dessert. "Don't force yourself." He said, rubbing his hand over his bloated tummy. There had been 5 courses, they weren't relatively big alone, but after eating so many little dishes you were feeling like you were at your limit. They had all brought flavors you had never tasted before and never thought you would taste, so you couldn't help but think the same would be true about this desert, you didn't want to miss out.

"If you feed me I think I can do it." You teased, sticking your tongue out for the man in front of you. "Fuck." He laughed, feeling his now semi-hard cock twitch to life in his pants. "Might need to take my belt off for that other reason soon." Geto huffed out a laugh, making you giggle with your tongue out as he scooped some of the vanilla ice cream onto the spoon. "Ahhh~" He said, making you repeat the noise as he placed the spoon in your mouth and focused on your plush-looking lips that wrapped around the spoon and licked the cold cream off the spoon.

He pulled it back, sliding the spoon upwards to make sure you swallowed up everything. When he pulled it away, he noticed some of the white liquid smear against your bottom lip, his cock twitched with interest at how similar it looked to another white substance he frequently saw on your lips. Wordlessly he reached across the table and wiped his thumb against your lip, collecting the white liquid and bringing it back to his own mouth, licking it off.

You felt your heart speed up, a pulse could be felt between your legs as you watched him take his own thumb into his mouth and suck sensually, all while keeping his eyes locked onto yours, before popping it out of his mouth. "Sweet." He said. You felt your lip quiver, taking in a shaky breath you whispered. "Get the check." The man stood without another word, opening his wallet, he slapped a couple twenties onto the white cloth before tucking it back into his pants and grabbing your hand, dragging you out of the booth. "Pre-paid." He said, holding the small of your waist as he led the two of you to the entrance of the restaurant.

You looked down at Geto's slacks as the two of you made quick work to exit. The bulge in his pants was very evident to anyone with a pair of working eyes, glancing up at his face he seemed like he couldn't care less as he kept his sights on the trail in front of him. The two of you walked right past the young blonde man who had led you to your table. The man's face turned a deep shade of crimson when Geto grabbed a handful of your ass and looked back to wink at the boy, undoubtably his own pants had tented at the shameless display of Geto's claim on you.

The cold air felt relieving once the two of you made it outside, easing the burning heat your cheeks were experiencing. "I wanted to treat you like a lady tonight but you make me lose control when I'm around you, know that?" He confessed, keeping his eyes glued in front of him as his car came into view. "Were the vibrating panties part of you treating me like a lady?" You teased, looking up at him. "Maybe not, saw them in the window of some sex shop on the way home last night." He said, finally reaching the car. He gave your ass one last squeeze before he opened the door for you and helped you inside.

"Cant help it, just wanna slut you out every chance I get." He said, winking at you before he shut the door softly, leaving you flustered as you crossed your hands in your lap, waiting for him to enter the car. You gasped when you felt the vibration start up suddenly, moments later Geto's door popped open and he slid inside, keeping the car off as he shut the door behind him. Leaning into your face, he placed his hand on the side of your soft cheek, "Cmere baby." He whispered before he connected your lips together.

You moaned against his lips, his other hand coming to rub against your clothed cunt, pressing the vibrator harder against you. He was panting into the kiss, the exchange was filled with teeth and tongue as he devoured you with his lips. Your hands came up to wrap around his wrist that held your face, making him hum against your lips. Your moans into the kiss increased in volume as he frantically rubbed back and forth against the vibrator, simultaneously making the silicone rub your clit, creating a heavenly feeling.

"Want you to cum right here in my car before we leave, need to see you cum." Geto panted against your lips, making you wine. He was throbbing in his pants, there was nothing he needed more in this moment than to see you fall apart on his fingers and the vibrator he got you, wearing the dress he bought you. You moaned into the kiss, tangling your tongue with his as you felt your orgasm creep up on you alarmingly fast. You dug your nails into his wrist, arching your back your legs spread themselves apart instinctually as you teetered on the edge of your orgasm.

"Sug-uru- Sugu-" You moaned his name breathlessly against his lips, he knew you were about to cum. He kept the same pace and pressure against you as your hips started bucking into his hand to get yourself there. "Take it baby- take it cmon-" He whispered against your lips. He moved his kisses to the side of your mouth and cheek when you became unable to kiss him back, your jaw going slack as the dam broke and you came hard against the vibrator.

His hand gripped your thigh hard, his nails digging into the fat as he moaned with you as you came. He felt lightheaded watching your body jerk and spasm in his hold. "Yeah, that's my girl~ good fucking girl~" He praised, continuing to rub your clit as he worked you through the last shocks of your orgasm. Once you came down from your high and your brain started functioning regularly again, you registered his words in your head. 'my girl' the words echoed over and over in your head.

Surely those words were only uttered from the heat of the moment, but it sure as hell sounded nice rolling off his tongue. You pushed his hand away in overstimulation as the vibration continued, making you twitch against the car seats. "Sorry baby, I got you." He whispered, pulling away from your face he reached into his pocket and switched the vibrator off. "I feel better now." He said, making you come to your senses as you giggled. "You?" You said incredulously. "It makes me feel good to make you cum, you should know that by now." He said honestly.

You believed his words wholeheartedly. His cock was still rock hard and twitching in his pants but he did look more relieved than he did when he first pulled you into the car. His breath had evened out too. "Want me to suck you off while you drive us home?" You asked, glancing between his hard-on poking through his pants and his handsome face. He laughed, "Such a vulgar mouth you have, roomie." He teased, grabbing your face he squshed your cheeks together, shaking your head back and forth. "I plan to fuck you nice and good when we get home if that sounds okay with you, so I can wait."

You nodded frantically, he didn't have to look over at you to know your answer, your head shaking his arm with the intensity with which you nodded. "You're so sweet, yknow that?" He said, his words catching you off guard. "Why are you bein' so sappy? Got a crush on me?" You joked, not expecting the silence that followed as he released your face as started the car, signaling before he pulled out into the dark street, heading for your shared apartment.

You looked over to Geto's face and noticed a light blush dusting his cheeks every time he drove under a streetlight, illuminating his features. You suddenly felt very self-conscious, your own cheeks heating up the longer he took to respond. "Oh." You said, turning your body to face the street as you gazed out through the window. "I'm not asking you to like me back sweet cheeks, just keep hanging out with me and I'll survive." He said.

Your heart was racing, you felt dizzy and slightly nauseous. It made sense that he liked you, the two of you had been living together for years, you spent more time with him more than anyone else you knew, and you had been hooking up for a couple of months now, it made sense that he had feelings for you. It's not like his feelings weren't reciprocated, you started noticing your heart pick up around him a couple months ago, right after the two of you started hooking up.

You had chalked it up to being arousal or lust, noticing how the strange feeling became stronger when he touched you or spoke to you. You realized quickly that this was not just lust, you were in fact very in love with your roommate. He did look like he had been chiseled by the gods themselves, and he had a lovely (for the most part) personality to match, he was funny, he cared about your well-being, he took care of you when you were sick, cuddled with you, gave you the dick of your life- he was everything you could've ever wanted and more.

"Can you say something though, you're making me feel embarrassed." His voice broke through the deafening silence, breaking you out of your stupor. You didn't realize the two of you had already been driving for so long, your apartment coming into view as he pulled into the parking spot in front of your building. Say something, say something, this is your chance, say something idiot just- Geto was internally panicking, he regretted leaving his answer so ambiguous, he should've just said "Of course not~" When you asked if he liked you, fuck he was such an idiot, he just ruined your relationship he was sure of it.

Surely you wouldn't feel comfortable living in the same house with someone who was in love with you, of course, that would be uncomfortable, fuck. Was it too late to say he was joking? Shit. Maybe you would move out, god- he felt sick, he wanted to get out of the car and run away, excape this awkward atmosphere, and just-

Your lips were on his, you were kissing him, you had your hands on his thighs and you were kissing him. "Sorry." You pulled away. "I- I'm not good with this kinda stuff but I had to do something." He registered your voice speak to him. "I uh- I like you too." You blushed, looking at the scenery outside the car, counting the tiles on your building, anything to avoid his eyes. "I almost jumped out of the window, never do that shit again." He said, sighing the heaviest sigh one man has ever sighed.

You burst out into laughter, "Sorry, wasn't exactly expecting you to confess your love when I was harmlessly teasing you~" You said, squinting your eyes at him. He swallowed hard, your hands on his thighs suddenly burning with an indescribable heat against his skin. "Can I take you inside and fuck you now? Think I might die If I don't get inside you soon." he whispered into the silent car.

Your back slammed into the door of your apartment, muffled moans and breaths mingling between the two of you as Geto wrappped a large arm around your waist to keep you pressed against his body, his other digging in his pocket to fish out the key and get the two of you inside. "Geto-" You moaned against his lips, "Hurry." You don't think you've ever felt this hot and bothered in your life. You frantically unbuttoned his shirt, his bare chest being exposed to the open air as you made quick work of his belt while he blindly inserted the key into the door and twisted it open.

The two of you almost crashed to the ground when the door opened behind you, stumbling inside Geto slammed the door shut and locked it behind you, working his hands on the back of your dress he uncliped the hook at the top and slid the garment in one swipe off of your body, leaving you clad in just the panties. "No bra?" He breathed against your lips, feeling his hand come into contact with nothing but your skin when he instinctively went to unclasp your bra. "Thought we might end up like this~" You whispered agaisnt his lips, yanking his belt through the loops of his pants and throwing it somewhere in the room.

He lifted you from under your thighs, kissing and biting your neck frantically as he walked you to the familiar path to his room. You pressed the back of his neck agaisnt you, tangling your hands in his long hair while he kicked open his door and took long strides to the bed, throwing you down on it, making you bounce against his mattress. Geto breathed heavily, unbuttoning his pants with one hand he crawled onto the bed, slotting himself between your thighs and welcoming yours that wrapped around his as he slid his pants off in the process, leaving the both of you only clad in your undergarments.

He placed one hand on your neck and pressed you into the bed, his lips chasing yours as he kissed you needily. You made a sound of discomfort against his lips, feeling something rough on your lower back. You pulled away from the kiss briefly to reach under your back and move whatever was irritating your skin. You didn't expect to pull out a pair of your panties, stiffer than you remember them being, from behind your back, more importantly, you didn't expect to see them in Geto's bed.

"Geto I am right here," you said, deadpanning, holding the cum soaked panties to the side of you. He smiled, taking the panties from your hand he tucked them under his pillow, "You wouldn't get it~" He said, tipping your head to the side he dropped his head to your neck, moving his hand out of the way a bit so he could leave hickeys on your skin. You gasped, "N-no I don't, why keep stealing my p-panties and cumming on them when you can walk ten feet down the hall and fuck me?" You asked, your breath picking up when he kissed a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

"It's the thrill." He says, biting your neck before soothing over the same spot with his tongue, easing the sting. "Sneaking around and stealing your panties-" kiss "when you have no idea," kiss "Gets me off so hard." He explains. "You're s-such a pervert." You whine, and yet feel yourself clench around nothing at his words. "That shit too." He says, gripping your naked tighter in his hold. "Love when you tell me how nasty I am, keep doing it." He instructs, moving his lips down to take your nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

"Fuck- Suguru-" You moan, bucking your hips up into his, simultaneously wrapping your legs around him tighter. "Tell me, baby, tell me how dirty I am." He speaks, the words coming out muffled around your nipple, the vibration of his words tingling through your hardened bud and making you drip between your thighs. "Y-you're such a filthy pervert S-suguru." You say, immediately getting a loud groan of approval from him, his hips humping into your own, the bulge in his pants being rubbed just right against your clit.

"Yeah?" He moans, releasing your nipple with a lewd pop as he switches to the other one, sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it, feeling it harden in his mouth. "Yeah, baby- s-so nasty stealin' my panties and makin' a m-mess all over them." He groans, his hips pressing themselves harder into your panty-clad pussy. "Bet you pretend 'ur fucking my cunt huh-?" You tease, feeling his hand slide down between your legs and move the panties to the side of your pussy so he could rub his boxer-covered dick between your naked folds.

He moans out a, "mhm-" against your nipple, pulling down his boxers just enough to free his dick as he rubs his length between your folds, his wet tip bumping into your clit as he does so. "Do you w-wrap the around y-our cock o-or-" You were cut off by his fat tip pressing against the entrance of your pussy, not pushing in, just keeping pressure against the twitching hole as he nibbled on your nipple, giving it one last suck before pulling away.

"Sometimes I'll lick the part where your pussy goes 'n taste you," He starts, peppering kisses across the expanse of your chest. "Fuck.." You moan, feeling your face grow hot at his words. "Sometimes I'll hold them up to my nose 'n smell you, use 'em to jerk off-" You pressed your hand over his mouth, breathing heavily at his shameless explanation. "You really are disgusting." You said, feeling yourself clench around nothing.

Suguru released a shaky breath, feeling a tingle shoot up his spine at your mean words before he thrust his cock into your pussy in one thrust, groaning at how tight you felt around him, the sound coming out muffled from your hand pressed against his mouth. "Ohmygod-" You whined, your hand dropping from his lips and falling against the sheets to your side as you gripped the cloth between your fingers tightly.

Suguru leaned back, pulling your thighs over his larger ones and sitting on his calves, he immediately started up a brutal pace inside you, fucking his cock into you as he used one hand to hold your panties to the side, getting a perfect view of your cunt swallowing up his dick. "Your pussy is eating up my dick like it's the tastiest thing in the world~" Geto cooed, bringing the pad of his thumb to rub circles agaisnt your little clit, poking out argrilly from under the hood.

"Fuck- S-Suguru!" You moaned, thrashing your head from side to side against his pillows. "God I love how dumb you get from my dick baby~ You like it this much? Huh?" He asked, emphasizing his words with rough thrusts as he picked up his ministrations on your clit. "Yes, baby- Fuck- Fuck I love it-" You babbled, forcing yourself to peel your eyes open to watch him fuck you properly. "Yeah you do- Fuck, you're so fucking tight-" He groaned, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back as he fucked his cock into you mercilessly, drilling his fat tip straight into your g-spot.

"Can feel myself leakin' all inside your cunt-" He drops his chin to watch your sloppy cunt drip your arousal around him, "She's fuckin' milking me-" He laughs through a groan. Geto was normally talkative in bed, but he seemed to be even more aroused, you guessed it had something to do with the confession that happened earlier in the car. "Suguru- you're splitting me open-" You moan, bringing one of your hands to press down on your lower tummy, feeling his cock beat your walls from the inside of you.

He giggled, bringing one of his hands to press down over yours, making you feel it even more. "Yeah? You feel me deep in there baby? I'm all up in 'ur fuckin' guts." He laughed, pistoning his hips into yours. Your face was all screwed up in pleasure, your hips wiggling against his as you felt your orgasm build up quickly inside you. "Fuck- yes- Suguru Im gonna cum- t-think I-m gonna squirt-" You say, noticing how the ball in your stomach felt a little different than normal.

Suguru had made you squirt before, and you never got used to it. It felt so intense, and on top of that, it was so fucking embarrassing. Suguru didn't seem to think so, it always made him so fucking dizzy when he made you squirt. "Yeah? Gonna squirt for me when I cum inside you?" He cooed, his thrusts starting to lose their rhythm as he felt his balls tighten with his impending orgasm. "Yes, Sugu please- please cum inside me- mark me as y-yours-" You wined, looking into his deep eyes as you spoke.

"Fuckkk, wanna be mine?" He groaned, biting his lip as he felt his cock twitch with his orgasm approaching alarmingly fast. "Yes- make me yours!" You cried, throwing your head back as the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you. Your cunt constricted around Geto's massive cock, your squirt spraying onto his abdomen, wetting his skin and boxers he had pulled down to pull his cock out. "Ohfuck-" He moaned gritting his teeth. "Give it to me- milk this fucking c-cock-" He moaned, his jaw falling open as he felt his cum travel up his cock.

You continued to convulse on his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm and into his own. "Gonna make you mine gonna- f-fuckfuck-" He cut himself off, pressing down hard on your stomach as his hips stilled against you feeling the first rope of his cum spill inside your cunt. His eyes rolled back in his head, bringing his hips back, he fucked each and every rope of his hot cum as deep as he could into your cunt, pressing his balls flush against your ass as he spilled the last of his seed into you.

You bit your lip, trying to stay sane as he twitched through the last bit of his high, overstimulating you when his cock moved a little too much inside you. "Godddd-" He groaned, pulling his cock out as the both of you hissed in oversensitivity. His cum immediately follows his cock and drips out of your hole, spilling down the crack of your ass. "So pretty, you did so fucking good for me baby." He praised, pulling your pussy lips apart to watch his cum slide out of you.

"My," huff "eyes are up here." you breathed out with a smirk, making him huff out a laugh. "Feelin' jealous?" He teased, tucking his soaked cock back into his boxers before he leaned his massive frame over you, embracing the feeling of your legs wrapping around his waist as he cradles your face in his hands, looking between your plush lips and eyes before pressing his mouth to yours softly and pulling back. "You feelin' okay? I went kinda hard." He smiled apologetically.

Your own hands came up to hold his sweats face, brushing his bangs out of his face. "I'm a little sore, but I think I'll survive." You said, before looking away and pondering, bringing your eyes back to his after a brief intermission with yourself. "Unless you'll baby me more if I say no, in which case, no, I'm feeling absolutely wrecked." your dramatics made him laugh. You took the opportunity to place kisses all over the expanse of his face as he laughed wholeheartedly.

Once his giggles died down a more serious look took over his features. "I didn't just say all that shit in the heat of the moment by the way." Geto spoke, rubbing your cheeks, "About makin' you mine." He elaborated. "Good." You answered, leaning your head up to press your lips together again. "Wanna be my girlfriend?" He asked properly. You pushed him off of you, switching your positions as you crawled on top of him, his hands finding their way to your tits as he massaged them in his hands.

"Depends how well you fuck me during round two~" You tease, wiggling your hips down against his semi-hard cock, steadily growing under the heat of your cunt. "Sounds like you might be my wife in about ten minutes." He challenges, making you burst into a fit of giggles as he sat up and wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug, attacking your shoulders with kisses.

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depresssant · 21 days ago

Text

Shades of Cool

NEGLECTFUL!PLATONIC!YAN!batfam x GN!reader

synopsis : growing up with a shit mom and constant step-dads and mom's boyfriends, your view on life has grown pretty bleak. you just want to die, since it doesn't seem to get better than this. things can't get any worse, can they?

wsp guys. it's been pretty long, huh?... OK IM SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IT QUICKLY. here, damn 🙄. anyways, i hope yall enjoy n im glad u guys liked the first chapter. lets just hope this one lives up to yalls expectations 😭. follow me and repost this if u want a chapter three. also I NEED SOMEONE TO EDUCATE ME ABOUT SUNDAY FROM HSR BC I WANNA WRITE FICS ABOUT HIM SO BAD SO PLS SOMEONE EDUCATE ME N ALSO IF U KNOW LOVE AND DEEP SPACE??? PLS HIT ME UP AND EXPLAIN THIS LORE BC I WANNA WRITE YANDERE FICS FOR THEM SO BAD

“Why are balls called balls when testicles sounds hella fancier?”

At your friend’s bizarre question, the face of your other friend, Zarian, twinges in disgust. “Jayelene… why do you feel the need to put that out there?”

You huff in amusement, focusing on your pizza before what Jaylene says ruins your entire mood.

“I’m just saying! Testicles just seems more appropriate⏤the type of fancy shit drake and his family would say.”

Tim Drake Wayne…

Dinner with him and his freak-a-zoid family was like trying to make it past no-man’s land without any help to shield you from the straight up chilling vibes they gave off with their constant comments about bat facts. Bats. The atmosphere during the entire time you spent there was dreadful and quite literally heavy since Tim's youngest little brother wanted to sneak stares at you as if you wouldn’t notice his bug-looking eyes creeping into your soul.

Rich people really are weird, huh?

The Wayne family is nothing like how you expected them to be. They’re supposed to be cold, mysterious, and irresistibly enchanting, but all you’ve got are creepy vibes and a strong urge to stay away from them as much as possible. From the way Mr. Wayne made that weird comment about your father in the limo to how forcibly happy Richard or “Dick” was with you, you’ve come to an understanding that rich people are complete lunatics.

The Wayne family is full of a bunch of lunatics.

And you’re not afraid to voice that.

“There you go again,” Jaylene sighs when she notices the irritated expression on your face. “It’s never that serious, [Name]. You just hate everyone.”

“No, you don't get it! They were creepy as hell! Like… Like bats in dark caves coming at you all at once. They talk funny, they look funny⏤they act funny! What normal man name drops your mother’s name after knowing each other for about thirty minutes?��

Zarian huffs in amusement. “That’s the creepy part. How does Mr. Wayne know your name?”

“I dont know.” You run your fingers through your hair and lean back against the booth seat. “I don't want anything to do with them. Billionaire or not, how the hell does he know my mother’s name.”

It was perhaps towards the end of your stay at the Wayne’s manor for dinner, and you knew you had to go home, so you had largely hinted at leaving to Drake. Everything had gotten wrapped up, but when you were just about to leave, Mr. Wayne had told you, “make sure to tell [M/n] I said hi.”

You could only stare at him in shock as your body carried along, because how does a man as famous and wealthy as bruce wayne know your mother⏤your mother? He’s the chief executive officer of Wayne Enterprises yet mentions your mother?

That moment alone is enough to wave every red flag in your brain that screams at you, telling you something is up with these shady people. The only question is what? What can a billionaire possibly want from you? Out of everything the world has to offer, the most influential billionaire in America wants to target some meager high school kid?

What do these people want from you? Is it a rich people thing to play around with those below you? Well, you guess it probably is. Like, is Mr. Wayne gonna pop out with his soulless eyes and say, ‘you’re my long lost child?’ or something?

You still don’t know why you’re being a goat stuffed before slaughtering. These people want something from you, but you? You’ve got nothing to offer that they could want. Why the hell do they even bother? If there's one thing you really hate, it’s being left in the dark like this. Not knowing is terrifying. It's dangerous. Not knowing means not being prepared, and if you’re not prepared, you won’t make it out. Damn it, you should’ve booked it the moment Mr. Wayne mentioned your father in the limo. Movies and shows always display rich people as eccentric and psychopathic weirdos, and now you’re finally believing it.

Damn it.

You’re in danger. Okay.

Maybe that’s an exaggeration. But maybe it’s not.

You’ve watched enough true crime and have enough intuition and trust in your gut to know when something is wrong.

It’s not adding up.

You’re not dumb. You see all the warnings there, but what if you're exaggerating. What if this is just the nature of the Waynes, and you think you’re special enough to be noticed by them? Mr. Wayne is a damn billionaire! He’s got the money to do whatever he wants, so it’s only natural for him to do a background check on everybody that interacts with his sons, right?

It’s all in your head… It’s all in your head.

Sighing, you stare at the plate of food in front of you, appetite long gone. Still, you grab a fork and continue to eat as Zarian and Jaylene scream back and forth next to you. Drake, who had accompanied the three of you to the diner after practice, has left, thankfully. He left as soon as his food arrived while talking about some family emergency, and honestly, you’re pretty damn grateful for that.

Ever since dinner at his house, he’s surrounded you like a pillow smothering you, and you can’t do anything about it. He’s a billionaire’s son, for fuck’s sake.

It doesn’t take long for you and your friends to finish up, and you all part ways at the door of the diner before you clutch the straps of your backpack and walk around the city endlessly. This is a habit for you now⏤a way to put off going home as much as possible ever since you found out your mother’s boyfriend doesn’t come home until one or two in the morning.

That balding, ugly, sleazy piece of shit.

He’s as gross as every other man your mother’s brought home under the terribly veiled illusion that he’ll provide her a good life and treat her right. No matter how many times you try to tell that blind bitc… No. It's wrong. It’s not your mother’s fault.

But it sometimes feels like that, though.

Most mother’s destroy their own lives for their children, yet yours cannot even think about leaving the man that beats her child on a daily. Those types of mothers leave their spouses the second they see something wrong, while your mother treats those finger-print bruises around your neck like a necklace instead of abuse.

You’ve given up on her. You gave up on her back when you were eleven years old locked in a room with her boyfriend, and she didn’t listen. Or when you were twelve. Or thirteen. Or fourteen. Or fifteen. Or sixteen. Or seventeen. And now eighteen.

And each day feels like a repetition of the same. Wake up, go to school, practice, walk around, go home, get beat, and sleep like none of it all happens. It’s a routine you despise with every fiber of your being⏤makes you wanna jump over Gotham City Bridge before thinking about returning home because who would want to? Who wants this average life?

A life where you’re not happy enough, not sad enough. Not good enough, not bad enough. Not energized enough, not tired enough. You feel like a survivor of a plane crash floating on a raft at the center of the endless ocean with no way out. Everything just seems so vast, wide, and unreachable. How can you find the shore on a simple raft? How can you find a way out of inescapable misery if it’s not by drowning?

You’ve been waiting to find the shore, but it’s been a whole eighteen years since you’ve found yourself floating along the ocean.

That whole “it’ll get better” shit is a tragic lie.

Whatever.

It doesn’t matter⏤not anymore, at least. You’re going to get far away from this place and never look back. Never have to relieve this wretched city. Never have to be confined by chains again. You’ve only a few months left before you’re free.

Until then, you’ll have to be patient and go home because the sun has fully disappeared.

Nothing but satellites twinkle in the disgustingly polluted sky of Gotham City, and the streets have come to a staggering halt as you stroll about the sidewalks, trying to find the longest path to get home. One in the morning is always the perfect time in Gotham because it’s too late and too early to be outside, so it’s generally safe for a walk.

Of course, the universe likes to prove you wrong at every point.

The sound of a thud followed by a pained groan behind you has your legs locked and ready to run with your brain screaming alerts, but you take a deep breath and turn around. How bad can it get, anyways? The sight before you surprised you nonetheless. It’s… Nightwing, a Bludhaven hero, here in Gotham, just randomly popping up behind you?

With clear bleeding cuts and sprouting bruises across his body.

In the random alley you just happen to be in?

No. You’re looking into it too much.

His eyes lock onto and they make you freeze right then and there like he’s cast some spell upon you. But that’s for a cold, brief second before you’re hooking your thumbs under the straps of your backpacks and turning around hot on your heels, refusing to spare him a single second.

You even hear him murmur a strained, “wait,” but you don't care.

It’s rude, mean, cruel, and it’s also none of your business. All you simply do is walk ahead to your approaching doom with an pit of unease and bitter understanding of your helplessness in your stomach. You can already feel the soon-to-be new bruises blooming along your back.

You’re not a good person.

But, really, who is?

Smoking really does skill.

But now you know why people do it.

Each drag is more out of necessity than it is a choice ever since you’ve met your friend’s plug at the dumb age of sixteen, but it's a way to dull the harsh truth of reality. The world just fades into nothing but muted and mixed colors like the loud city underneath your balcony it blurs into a faint hum the longer you stare at the spiral puffs of smoke that disappear into the air.

Everything’s bitter⏤the joint and you.

Really bitter at the blood semi-dried on your face and the dull ache along your back.

You’ve got about an hour and a half until you have to head out to school, so what other way is there to spend it than smoking away your brain? The joint’s a temporary escape, but it helps you stall whatever new feeling of despair you’ll feel for the day. Until you’re interrupted by your phone buzzing⏤the sound still a dull hum in your ears

“... Hello?”

“[Name]!”

Zarian’s voice?

“Where the hell are you? Hurry up and get to school or else you’re gonna get in trouble for not helping to set up the club fair, and coach will be on our ass! And don't forget to bring money for the tickets!”

Coach?... Club fair?... Club fair! Holy shit!

Your eyes shoot open, and you frantically scramble up, tossing the joint over the balcony railing before hectically staggering through the living room like a drunk man. Damn it, how could you be so clueless and forget such an important event? Especially one you need money for! Damn it⏤damnit! What do you do?

… Mom! She’s got a box of money somewhere in her closet, right? You’ve seen it before! It's just twenty dollars, and she wont notice. Okay… Okay. You’re quick to get ready. You wash away all the blood that’s dried on your face, brush your teeth, and change into baggy jeans and a clean shirt before storming into your mother’s bedroom and rummaging through her things.

She’s off at work. Her bastard boyfriend doesn't come home until late at night, which means he’s probably already taken money for the day. Okay. That's fine. They won't notice.

But you can't find anything! What the hell? Where is that fucking box? You could’ve sworn it was there on the top shelf last night, but as you swipe your hands across everything on the shelf, you can’t find it. All of a sudden, something made of wood hits the top of your head and falls to the ground with a crack. You hiss, palm moving to cover where you got hit, but your eyes land on the box that now has money strewn all across the floor and a broken… false bottom?

What the fuck.

You pull away at the rest of the false bottom to only be met with countless photos of you as a child with your mother. Mom’s shit boyfriend had all the family photos taken down for some weird reason, so they’ve been here this entire time? All of these photos are full of you throughout every stage of your life, but some have different people in them as well. Their faces are either scratched out or they’re ripped out of the photo entirely.

From what you can gather, the figures are a man and what seems to be a teenage boy. The absurdity and even slight creepiness of the scratched out faces has you laughing, yet even with your now dulled senses, your eyes land on a photo you failed to notice earlier. Maybe you’re hallucinating. There must be something wrong with your brain. Or your eyes. The universe must be playing with you because is that a photo of you and a teenage-looking dick grayson?

Your eyes widen because it looks just like the strange man you had the unfortunate opportunity of having a conversation with during dinner with the Waynes. It’s him! More importantly, why the hell is he holding a ‘three year old’ you’s hand? You probably should be screaming. Yelling. Maybe panicking? But all you can do is shuffle through the rest of the box before your fingers graze against something metal that has your heart jumping.

It’s a small camera.

With a bat engraved on its side.

Ears ringing so loudly in your head you can't even think, you wipe your teary and red eyes hastily before grabbing a twenty dollar bill, putting everything except for the photo and camera in the box, set it back on the closet shelf, and hastily grab your backpack before making way to school.

The second you reach the damned place, you seek out your now three friends and drop into a seat with a heavy thud, sighing and meeting Tim's eyes with a burning gaze.

“You mean to tell me [Name] found the camera? And you decided to tell me after school?”

Time Drake Wayne sighs and runs his fingers through his black hair, shrugging apathetically while scrolling through every photo in his phone that he’s taken of you during the club fair. His brother, Richard, is pacing throughout his room anxiously as he rambles off about their latest fuckup.

“Look, Bruce doesn't let any slip ups happen,” Tim murmurs in exasperation. “He wouldn't let this happen because [Name]’s mom and him talked this morning. Relax, he probably knows.”

It's not a lot, but it’s enough to calm Richard down. The man takes a deep breath but finds himself sitting down next to Tim, trying to get a good look at the pictures. “How mad was [Name]?”

“High, for starters, but clearly pissed off. Very observant, too.”

“Don’t tell anyone else. Not until Bruce gives us the okay.”

TAGLIST :

@ilovemyhusbandnanami (so real), @missikkj, @ferakillia, @darlinqvi, @soriansick, @sleepydhanie, @h0rr0r-10ver-69 (love ur blog aesthetic bae), @anuttellaa (OK WINX 😽), @feral-childs-word (love the pfp), @shycreatorreview, @friesandfixations, @stuff6969fuckyou, @babiebubsie, @jsprien213, @cattioo, @cherrydaisymanic (cheetah?leopard? printttt 😍), @00hellohello00, @princessloveweird, @amber-content, @idonthaveanameforthisacc, @f1lover4ever, @dreamsarenicer, @imaginarydreams, @solkara (love the calm aesthetic), @bobfood, @toast-on-dandelioms, @ijustfuckme, @cantfindmelol, @xx1shadow1xx, @azulawayne, @box-of-kinderjoy, @iamaunknownsecret, @missybabes, @phoenixgurl030, @couldeatthatgirlforlunch, @devils-blackrose, @arevvv, @freakthis, @yourhornysister, @kirahhhh, @perfectparadisegardener, @testishere, @spaceunicorn293, @vanilliona (love the pfpp), @uknowimdumb, @esposadomd, @dakotali, @lilyalone, @kore-of-the-underworld, @pix-stuff, @hellcatsworld, @chericia, @mspoisoncoil (love the bannnnerrr) , @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @cheeseburgercasserole (love the aesthetic), @twismare

so follow me n repost if u want part lll. and somebody pls explain hsr and love and deepspace lore to me. making a taglistttttt. if this post doesnt get as many likes as the first one, im deleting this series 😭. if u see a grammatical mistake, no u didnt 😃🔪

if anybody’s got requests about this series or in general, feel free to ask!!!

WAIT!! FOLLOW MY WATTPAD ACCOUNT : @depresssant. I JUS PUBLISHED A HISTORICAL YANDERE X READER STORY

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improbable-outset · 3 months ago

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📄 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.1k

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Secret mutual pinning, angst, emotional turmoil, mentions of insecurities, EVENTUAL SMUT, confessional sex, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v sex, long distance relationship

𝐀/𝐍: I didn’t expect this to be so long. Also hey @lazyjellyfish300 remember this blurb?? We’ve got the smut🥳

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Saying goodbye to you wasn’t part of Miguel’s plan. As you prepare to leave Alchemax for a prestigious new role, Miguel struggles with the realisation that he’s about to lose more than just a colleague.

“What are you doing?”

Miguel watched intently as you packed away your belongings in a box, clearing up your workstation. It wasn’t just a casual clean up— this looked like something more final.

You meticulously removed the photos from the wall, gathered your notes, and neatly stacked your research papers. The once vibrant workstation, full of personality, now looked eerily bare.

“Clearing my work station.” you said matter-of-factory. His chest felt heavy with uneasy tension, a sense of foreboding growing with each second.

“Yeah, I got that much, genius,” he shot back, stepping closer and stopping right next to your desk. “Why are you clearing your desk?”

You turned to face him wordlessly, his question only carrying more weight between the two of you like an unwelcome guest. His mouth went dry as he locked eyes with you.

Up close, you always managed to take his breath away, a quiet beauty that never failed to stir something deep within him. But today, there was a different kind of tension in the air, a sense of finality that he couldn’t grasp.

“Well?” he prodded, though he had a sinking feeling that whatever was going to unfold would change everything.

“Well uhm…I put in my two weeks notice today.”

He almost choked at your words. This was worse than he anticipated. He thought maybe you were moving to a different workstation, not leaving the company entirely.

“What?” his voice was barely a whisper. He could feel his pulse thundering in his ears. You were leaving— he was losing you.

“I’ve been offered a lead geneticist position at another company. But it’s in Raleigh, so…I’m gonna have to move.”

You had worked as a research scientist at Alchemax for several years, and because of the nature of your work, you and Miguel collaborated on a daily basis.

Discussing experimental results, debating research protocols— it all came so naturally. Over time, what began as a professional respect grew into something more personal. And now, that bond was about to be severed.

You were leaving for a bigger, fancier job in North Carolina. The thought twisted something deep inside him and he struggled to keep himself together.

“I can’t turn it down. I’ve busted my ass on the application and the whole interview process.”

“Congrats…” The word came out strangled, forced through clenched teeth. Trying to talk without being overwhelmed with emotions was like trying to hold back a flood with a paper dam.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.” you half-joked, but there was a note of concern in your voice.

You were right, his response wasn’t the best cover-up for his true feelings. The mere idea of you leaving filled him with dread, despair and most of all, jealousy.

“Of course I’m happy for you. I know you’ve been working hard— you deserve the opportunity.” He managed to hide most of his turmoil behind a cold wall of control. But deep down, the words felt hollow.

He knew he had no right to feel this way. You had every right to leave, to seize this incredible opportunity. This wasn’t something that came around often, and he didn’t want to be the one to hold you back.

You set the box down on the desk— the box that held all your belongings. “I’ll still be here for another two weeks.”

“Two weeks…” he echoed, the words sticking in his throat like a curse.

Two weeks. How was that enough time to prepare for losing you? What was he supposed to do after that? Just accept that you were gone? His heart couldn’t take that.

“I’ll visit Nueva York whenever I get the chance,” you said, trying to sound reassuring.

“You better. You’re not allowed to just drop off the face of the earth once you’re gone…” it was getting harder to keep his tone light.

“Of course…Nueva York and Alchemax aren't going to leave my mind anytime soon.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of us every now and then…and I’m certain this place won’t forget you…”

“I doubt it.” you scoffed, a bit of edge to your voice. “The higher ups will probably replace me before I even step foot in North Carolina.”

Miguel’s heart sank at the thought, though he knew there was some truth to it. The idea of someone else taking your place, of your work station filled with notes and projects by another rando, was too much to bear.

He could already picture the empty space where your personal touch used to shine through, replaced by some faceless new hire who was unaware how amazing you were

“Yeah, knowing them, they’ve probably already written up your job description, listing your position open for applications.” he sighed solemnly.

The company never had the best moral compass when it came to their employees, and would replace anyone that wasn’t serving their needs in a heartbeat.

“It’s okay, I’m sure I’ve left my mark here, even if I feel like I didn’t do much.”

Miguel almost let out a laugh in disbelief. You were always such a hard-worker, always a quick-thinker. You had single-handedly helped him out more times than he could count.

Another company had even recognised your talent and wanted you to work for them…yet you still doubted your capabilities.

“Are you serious? You’re irreplaceable. You’ve saved my ass more times than I could remember.” His voice was firm now, desperate to make you see things from his view.

“Mhmm.” You hummed. “Now, I’ll soon be the lead geneticist in another company, just like you.”

The enthusiasm in your tone was impossible to miss, and it reflected in your eyes. It should have made Miguel happy for you, and in a way, it did.

But the guilt still gnawed at him, guilt that he couldn’t match your excitement. Deep down, all he wanted was for you to stay, for purely selfish reasons.

“Yeah…just like me.” he repeated your words, the tiniest edge of bitterness creeping into his voice.

You didn’t seem to notice. “I guess all those late nights of research finally paid off. And all your teachings too.”

Miguel recalled all those nights together— just the two of you, the lab quiet save for the hum of machines and the scratch of pen on paper.

Mundane tasks became memorable simply because you were there. The memories sent a shiver up his spine, a bittersweet reminder of what he was about to lose.

It was a painful realisation that not everything lasts forever, especially the good things.

“Don’t count all this success as being attributed to just me, you did a lot of studying, too.” he chuckled lightly. “You really put in the hard work…you earned it.”

But even as he spoke, the words tasted bitter. Even if he was proud of you, it didn’t make the ache in his chest any less potent.

He glanced back at the box on your desk. No one could replace you— not in the lab, and certainly not in his life.

“But, I wouldn’t be here without you, so I have to give you some credit.” you smiled warmly. “If I ever win an award in this field and they make me stand on those podiums and talk to a huge audience, I’ll be sure to mention your name.”

Miguel felt his stomach flip at your words. He was at a loss for words. You’d mention his name if you won an award? He didn’t realise he had made such an impact on you— to be someone you viewed as admirable enough to acknowledge publicly.

The thought alone could possibly make him faint. To have his name mentioned in such a light by you…it was almost too much to handle.

He swallowed thickly. “Ah…you don’t have to go that far. I’m just some scientist,” he said coolly, though his pulse quickened. “Really, you’re gonna go places, make a name for yourself— you don’t need to credit me.”

“But I will. You've been a big part of my career here,” you insisted.

Your words hit Miguel square in the chest. You were adamant about recognising his role in your life. It was almost overwhelming, the way you considered him to be that much of an integral part of you.

He forced out a playful scoff, hoping to mask the surge of emotions rising in him.

“Yeah, I guess I helped you with some projects…but don’t go listing me as some co-author in your resume.”

You laughed softly. “Don’t worry, I know my limits.”

The next few days felt like treading on thin ice, where one wrong move could crack the fragile tension between the two of you.

Since the day you told him you were leaving, you’ve been unusually reserved, quieter than usual— a shift that didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel.

The sudden change in your energy tightened the coil of anxiety in his chest, and it was made worse by his inability to figure out why you were acting this way.

Whenever he would look your way, you always seemed distracted, lost in thought. Your responses were always brief and you would only speak when spoken to.

Miguel couldn’t help but feel concerned over you, but he was hesitant to ask you about it, not wanting to intrude or overstep any boundaries.

One evening, you both found yourselves working late again in his lab alone. The atmosphere was quiet— filled with the soft sounds of typing and the occasional shuffle of papers.

Miguel couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you. You were staring at your work, but he could tell your focus was elsewhere, lost in your own thoughts that were weighing you down.

As the evening wore on, the solitude of the lab and the waning hours seemed to offer the right moment. His concern outweighed his hesitation, and he turned his chair to face you.

“You’ve been quiet all day. Is everything okay?” He asked gently.

You looked up at him from your papers. The lightning highlighted the tiredness in your eyes, your expression weary and distant.

“Yeah, just thinking.” you mused.

“Is it about leaving? Are you upset?”

He could see the hesitation in your face, your eyes darting away from him and focused on the desk in front of you. “It’s not about leaving…well, maybe it is, in a way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about how I’ve been in relationships…you know, what I wanted, what I didn’t get. I’m starting to wonder if maybe I’ve been asking for too much.”

Miguel blinked, taken back by your admission. He hadn’t expected that, but now that you brought it up, he was curious to know more.

“Too much? What could you possibly have asked for that was too much?”

“Just…little things. Being held, feeling safe, someone who actually listens after a long day,” you replied. He didn’t miss the tinge of bitterness in your voice. “I thought those were normal things to want, but it was like… like they were a burden to give.”

Hearing you feel so unappreciated made his chest tighten with frustration. How could someone make you think you were asking for too much? You deserved everything you asked for and more.

“That’s not too much to ask. It’s not a burden— it’s what you deserve.”

This wasn’t a passing thought; it was clear you’d been hurt before. The idea that someone had made you feel unworthy of love you craved infuriated him.

If you were with him, you wouldn’t even have to ask for that. He’d give you everything you wanted, and then some.

You let out a tired sigh, still not fully convinced by his words. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever find that. Or I’m chasing something unrealistic.”

No, don’t think that.

“You deserve someone who will give you all of that.”

You looked up at him. He could tell his words resonated with you when he saw something hopeful in your eyes. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he said— he kept his tone low, hiding the fierce enthusiasm he felt. He could go on about everything you deserved, but he didn’t want to come off as desperate. “And if you have found it yet, it’s not because you’re asking too much.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do— but he held himself back. He wanted to pull you into his embrace, just to share your warmth.

He wasn’t going to confess to you, that wasn’t the smartest move. Instead he pushed his feelings down for your sake, and pretended his love for you was just platonic.

“Are you in a relationship?” you asked suddenly.

Miguel had to hold himself back from giving a puzzled look. You’ve worked together for years now— wasn't it obvious that he was single? Maybe he’d been too vague about his love life, that was probably why you were asking.

He thought that by never mentioning a partner, it made him seem more available to you. But it seems you’ve overlooked that.

Not that he was inexperienced. He had his fair share of relationships— some short-lived, others too casual to be called serious.

They were a balance of good and bad, each leaving him with lessons to learn.

But he could confidently say that none of them had ever made him feel the way you did. He longed to express that with you, to tell you why you had his heart wrapped around your finger. But he knew that would only complicate things more.

“No…haven’t been in one in a while.”

And you’re the reason, he wanted to add.

“What about you? Found anyone special yet?” A small part of him dreaded to hear you answer, even if either response wouldn’t serve him any good.

“No.”

If you weren’t leaving the company, that answer would’ve brought him joy. But now, knowing that you were available it made the situation more poignant— a reminder that he had missed his chance.

Ironically, it would’ve given him more clarity if you said yes.

He had gotten used to concealing his true feelings since the day you told him that you’ve given your two weeks notice. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

So he offered you a reassuring smile instead, “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone who will cherish you the way you deserve.”

I’m right over here.

From the look of your face lifting up, he knew he managed to sound convincing and encouraging.

“I do have my eyes on someone though…” you added.

Your words echoed in his head and wrapped around his throat like a vice. A storm of emotions hit him all at once, leaving him struggling to navigate through the confusion.

On one hand, he was dying to know who you were referring to. On the other, he felt shattered that someone else managed to make their way into your heart and he wasn’t even aware of it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. “Oh really? What are they like?”

Each question he asked felt like digging himself deeper into a pit he might never climb out of. Even while he forced himself to act neutral, it was hard to predict when the nonchalant facade would eventually crack.

You let out a sheepish laugh before answering. ”Well…he’s pretty tall,”

Miguel’s mind raced through every tall colleague he could think of, analysing every conversation you’d had with them, and trying to think back to any clues that would give away your feelings for them.

Miguel knew he was probably being overly cautious, but his instincts flared up. It wasn’t just his jealousy— though there was no denying that he was feeling a tinge of envy— but he didn’t want to see you get hurt by anyone.

Especially after what you revealed to him earlier. But he brought those thoughts to the side for a moment and continued to listen to you.

“He’s… a little grumpy but that’s what adds to his charm,” you added. There was something reflecting in your eyes, a sparkle that he couldn’t quite grasp, but he dismissed it.

Grumpy? You found that charming? He thought back to all those times you had called him grumpy.

His stomach fluttered as he felt a new sense of hope. But he didn’t let that sway his judgment and got optimistic too quickly.

“What else do you like about him?” Miguel asked. Deep down, Miguel felt a change of heart and he was desperate to know more, hoping that there was even the slightest chance that it might be him.

“He’s always there when I need him, even though he tries to hide it, he secretly has a heart of gold.”

You were killing him, little by little, with every answer you were giving him. It was all the qualities he was proud to have, yet he still felt doubtful.

He managed a small smile, trying to hide the longing in his heart. “Sounds like a good man. I’m sure he’s lucky to have your affection.”

“Yeah. I really hope he feels the same. Otherwise, all those coffees I gave him would be a waste,” you let out a sigh, clearly lost in thought about the man you admired.

You couldn’t have been more obvious. His heart fluttered as he recalled all those coffees you would give him in the mornings, especially during your joint projects.

Thank the stars that he was a master at keeping a tight lid on his feelings. There was no way he was going to let his excitement show— not yet, not until he was sure

“Those coffees?” he asked. “Why do you give them to him?”

“I was hoping I’d stand out to him and not just be a colleague he sits with.”

“Stand out? What other things are you willing to do?”

“Maybe offer to help with his paperwork— if he doesn’t mind.”

Miguel couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but his heart swelled with happiness with each word. You wanted to stand out to him. Offer to do his paperwork.

You didn’t have to do all of that to get his attention; he had eyes on you for a long time, but all these little things you did were an added bonus.

“Do you think I should buy him more coffee?” you asked, you gaze locked with him, searching for his approval. You were asking for his opinion too.

“Coffee’s a good ice breaker. Maybe you could add a little note too, I bet he’ll notice you after that,” he kept his tone casual, but Miguel couldn’t stop the grin tugging at his lips.

You looked so eager, willing to take whatever advice. After all, if you were talking about him, you’d take his advice even more seriously, right? It only made sense.

“Maybe you could ask him out on a casual date, nothing too big. Just to see how he reacts,” he teased, way too excited with how you’ll respond.

Will you ask him out now?

“You know…I think I’ll call him now,” you got up to leave the room.

Everything came crashing down on him in an instant. His heart shattered, taking all his hopes with it. So, you weren’t talking about him after all.

“Ah, alright…good luck with that,” he tried to maintain a neutral tone, but the strain in his voice betrayed him.

The weight of his unrequited love pressed heavily on his chest, it was almost palpable. Each step you took away felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart.

How could he have been so foolish? Of course, it wouldn’t be him.

From the sound of your footsteps, you walked a few doors down, away from his earshot. You probably didn’t want him to overhear.

Sadness and disappointment surrounded him like a suffocating fog as he slumped back at his desk. He hadn’t heard from you in half an hour.

You were either working up the courage to call your love interest or caught in an extended conversation. But what he didn’t expect was to see your name pop up on his phone screen when his phone rang.

Although he didn’t want to hear how your conversation went, he still wanted to be supportive. He loved you too much to ruin your happiness.

He cleared his throat, bracing himself for whatever you had to say, expecting to have his heart shattered again, before picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“Oh, don’t say ‘hello’ like you haven’t saved my number,” you teased.

Miguel forced out a chuckle, trying to match your lightheartedness. “You got me there. Of course I have your number saved. So, how did it go?” he asked, his voice filled with forced anticipation, even as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Well, that guy I was talking about earlier…”

You left the sentence hanging, as if daring him to grasp the meaning. Miguel cleared his throat, keeping his composure and hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his pain. “Go on…what happened?”

There was a pause that went on for a few seconds, but it was enough to make his stomach twist as he waited for your response. Finally, you spoke.

“Well, did you know that it was you and were just acting clueless? Or did you not pick that up, yet?” you asked.

Miguel froze, the words processed in his mind. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, his grip tightening around the phone near his ear. His mind replayed the conversation you had just shared to see if he missed anything.

Then, a small smile slowly crept on his face, a mix of disbelief and dawning realisation. Now, hearing you confirm that it was true, he couldn’t hide his relief and the warmth that spread across his chest.

“I…uh…had…my suspicions,” he stuttered, his voice thick with emotion. “But hearing you say it now…it means more than you know.”

He paused for a moment, realising he might be sounding too eager, too vulnerable. “But what did you mean when you said ‘did you not pick that up’? Was it…was it not obvious that I had feelings for you too?”

“No, actually.”

A soft sigh of relief escaped Miguel’s lips. He’d tried so hard to keep his feelings for you hidden, fearing rejection to avoid an awkward situation that might follow, especially with you leaving the city.

But knowing now that he hadn’t been as obvious he feared— that you hadn’t noticed— was a strange comfort. Still, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder how things might have been different if he’d confessed first. Would he have had the courage? Probably not, even with your imminent departure.

“Well…now that we both know how we feel, what does that mean for us? Are you…happy that I have feelings for you too?”

“Duh.”

Miguel let out a chuckle at your blasé response. The tension in his chest from earlier was starting to ease, allowing him to bask in the moment.

But the reality of your limited time here was starting to set in, dulling his joy with a stab of regret.

“So…you’re still leaving, huh?” he couldn’t hide the solemn tone in his voice.

“Yeah, I am. But that doesn’t mean this has to end before it starts.”

His heart stuttered at that. “You really think we could make it work.”

“If we both want it, I don’t see why not.” The determination in your voice was palpable, even through the phone. It made him feel more desired than ever.

“I want it. More than anything. And right now, I really want to kiss you.”

“Hold on, let me come to you,” you hung up the phone and Miguel could hear your footsteps getting closer.

Once you finally arrived, you looked back up at him. Miguel could see the eagerness and the tinge of mischief in your eyes.

“Kiss me please.”

At that moment, he knew there was no use waiting any longer. His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this alive.

He couldn’t believe this was really happening, he had always dreamed of this moment but now that he was experiencing it in person, it felt too surreal to be real.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his lips moved lovingly against yours. Breaking the kiss, he took a moment to study your face.

He wanted to kiss you again, to tell you sweet nothings that he had been holding back for so long. But he knew he had to compose himself and give you a moment to breathe.

“Lock the doors,” your voice echoed in his mind, sending his mind into a frenzy. He chuckled but still obliged, giving you both a newfound privacy.

Everything else felt like a blur and the next moment, he was unbuttoning your shirt and tossing it to the side. He didn’t waste any time doing the same to your pants.

His throat went dry when he noticed the wet patch on your undies, a sign that you were just as turned on as he was.

Just as infatuated.

It drove him crazy. As he leaned in, he felt your hands hike up under his shirt too. He took this as a sign to remove it, his toned body now in full view. His muscle’s glistened under the light.

He pressed your bare chest against his— the raw feeling of your skin against his was pure ecstasy. He lifted your body with ease and set you on a clear desk.

His body was still pressed against yours as he kissed over your neck and down your collar bone. He felt so lucky to have you in his arms like this, even better in his lab.

You were finally his…

He knelt down between your legs, his hands caressing over each thigh. His lips found your inner thigh, kissing over your skin, dangerously close to your core.

It was his ultimate goal to memorise every curve and crevice of your skin, what made you tick and all your favourite spots you liked to be touched. He wanted to savour this moment as much as he could.

His tongue slowly ran over your soaked cunt, finally getting a taste of you. Immediately, you gasped and your legs twitched in response.

You tasted incredible, or maybe that was just the heat of the moment. He continued to pleasure you with his mouth, his tongue tracing delicious, slow patterns around your sensitive bud.

He heard you gasp out his name which motivated to continue. His hand reached up to intertwine with yours, his touch grounding and tender as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth.

“Oh God…right there, Miguel—”

Your free hand reached into his scalp and gently tugged on his curls. Feeling your hips grinding against his tongue only drove him further, desperate to coax your orgasm.

That’s it…

Give yourself to me.

He knew the moment you reached your peak when he felt you tighten your grip on his hair and cry out his name. Seeing the way you threw your head back in the throes of your climax sent an overwhelming shiver through his body— a sensation he couldn’t describe.

Your body convulsed against his mouth as you squirted on his tongue— and he licked you clean eagerly. Finally, he pulled his mouth away, his tongue leaving your body with a final, tantalising flick.

He ran his fist across his mouth to rid your wetness before rising up to his feet. You were completely spent, your body limp and your breath came out ragged.

Your legs were still shaking from your fresh release. He couldn’t help but glide over your cheeks, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone.

He felt you lean into his touch as he savoured the feel of your skin beneath his fingers.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours.

You let out a shaky laugh, catching your breath. “Like this? All sweaty and musty? You must really love me then…”

Only you would throw a sarcastic comment after he ate you out. After a moment of stillness, you came down from your high. He spread your legs apart as he hovered over you on the desk.

The precum that leaked from his tip mixed with your wetness as he positioned his tip over your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself in and was immediately overwhelmed by your cushiony grip over his tip.

Your fingers gripped onto his biceps, keeping yourself steady as he pushed further. Once he bottomed out, you lifted your head to see the light bulge on your belly.

A sense of pride washed over him, seeing your eyes feast on the lewd sight of him filling you up. Every inch of him was all yours.

He dragged himself out with your wetness coating his dick before pushing back in again. His body moved against yours in a perfect harmony, every motion was driven to heighten the pleasure between the two of you.

As the ecstasy reached a new height, Miguel’s body trembled slightly. He couldn’t resist letting out a soft moan followed by your name, his voice filled with all the love he had for you.

“Just like that…” you murmured against his lips.

Hearing your praise, Miguel’s lips curled into a smile, his expression filled with a mixture of confidence and pride.

Every stroke hit a new depth, sending a shiver through both of you.

All he could think about was being connected with you in every way possible. Physically. Emotionally. He angled himself so his pelvic bone could rub and stimulate your bundle of nerves.

“Miguel-!”

You let out a cry when he changed his pace, your nails digging into his back. He wanted you to feel him for weeks, remembering this night. Each sharp, precise thrust, hitting your sweet spot over and over and driving you over the edge.

He could feel his own peak crawling up with each passing second. His thrusts grew more desperate and frenzied, aiming to chase his high with your body wrapped around his own.

“Look at me…I want to see you,” he breathed.

The sight of you under him, taking everything he was giving you, sent him over the edge. His body tensed as he reached the pinnacle of his own climax.

With one last thrust deep into your heat, his cum pulsated into you in strong waves. He stayed balled deep until each were drained and waited for a moment before he pulled his hips back.

He felt withdrawal as he released himself from your grip, his deflated dick now hung between his legs.

His body slumped weakly against yours, the intensity of the moment leaving him content and blissfully exhausted. The world around him faded into the background. In that instant, everything felt perfect.

The pulse in his ears gradually quieted to a gentle hum, and his muscles started to relax as he settled against you.

As he kept his arms around you, holding you close, he felt at peace for the first time in what felt like ages. It all felt so right— like this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

He wanted to stay like this, savouring the closeness, but your soft gasp tugged at his concerns.

“Are you okay?” he asked, still feeling lightheaded from the afterglow. “What’s wrong?”

You quickly sat up on the desk, adjusting your clothes with a sense of urgency. “We need to put our clothes back on.”

The seriousness in your voice jolted back into reality. The sterile scent of the lab and the harsh fluorescent lights snapped into sharp focus, reminding him where you were. He carefully pulled himself away from you, his mind scrambling to catch up.

As he gathered his clothes from the floor and desk, the remnants of your passion, he couldn’t help but glance back at you— disheveled, flushed and utterly captivating.

Once he was fully dressed, he looked at you with amusement. “I think we can slip out before anyone asks what we’ve been up to,” he teased with a grin.

You buttoned your shirt, still appearing slightly frantic. “Did we make a mess?”

Miguel scanned the lab, his eyes sweeping over the desk and the floor. He didn’t spot any obvious signs of a mess, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. The weight of what had just happened hung in the air.

Still, the room would be locked overnight— no one would see anything.

“Well…” he replied with a casual shrug. “I’m not too worried about any physical evidence. As long as they didn’t hear you cry out my name.”

You shot him a mildly annoyed look, pressing your lips together. “We should clock out before anyone suspects us.”

Just as you were about to move, Miguel gently pulled your arm. “Before we go…I need to know if this is something you truly want. Not just a temporary escape.” His voice was soft with vulnerability as he searched your eyes.

Your lips curled up into a reassuring smile. “Let’s go out to dinner and talk more there.”

Miguel’s eyes sparkled, the tension on his shoulders lifting. The idea of an intimate dinner, just the two of you, felt like the perfect addition to the connection you had just deepened.

He felt a sense of triumph as he allowed himself to experience this with you after the long, silent yearning.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d love to have dinner,”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Come on then, let’s get out of here.”

Miguel quickly switched off the lights and locked up before taking your hand in his. The two of you stepped out into the crisp night air, leaving the lab— and its memories— behind.

Miguel sat behind the wheel of his car, gripping on the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. You both agreed that he’d drive you to the airport, allowing you to spend these last moments together.

The car ride was silent, save for the occasional crackling of the chip packet in your hands. Miguel's eyes flickered towards you as you reached for another chip. You seemed calm and collected, but he knew better.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to break the silence, but nothing came out. Words that normally flowed so easily from him were caught in his throat. What could he possibly say that would make it any easier?

“Do you want some?” you offered, holding out the bag.

He shook his head, lips twitching into a forced smile. “I’m not really hungry right now.”

His eyes were back on the road. The thought of food was the furthest thing from his mind right now. All he could think about was the impending goodbye as the streets of Nueva York blurred past.

“Are you okay?” your voice, a soft caress.

He let out a dry, humorless laugh. Of course he wasn’t okay. How could he be? But he nodded anyway, giving you a reassuring smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m fine…just a little nervous about dropping you off at the airport, that’s all.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either.

The truth was too raw, too painful, to voice. He didn’t want to admit how devastating he was and burden you with his feelings, not now.

“I’ve never done anything this big before.” you confessed. He could hear the uncertainty in your voice. “Moving to a completely different state…”

He felt a mix of sadness and pride in his chest. He was so proud of you for taking such a big step, but at the same time, he wished things were different and you could stay with him a little longer.

If only he had known sooner, maybe he would have had the courage to confess— to hold you close and never let you go. To have you to himself just a little longer.

“I know, it’s a big deal,” he tried to sound comforting. “But you’re smart, and capable, and I know you’re gonna do amazing.”

“Thanks, I needed that reassurance.” you sighed. “I’m a little nervous. What if I don’t fit in and I’m too…Nueva York-y for them.”

With one hand, Miguel reached over and gently squeezed your thigh, while the other gripped the steering wheel.

He tried to radiate some of his warmth and comfort, despite his emotions swirling like a vortex inside him.

“You’re going to fit in just fine. You’re the most adaptable person I know. And even if you are a bit ‘Nueva York-y’, as you put it, I think the people of North Carolina could use a bit of that.”

He glanced back at you, catching the flicker of unease in your eyes. It was refreshing to know that, despite your excitement, you were still feeling the same apprehension that had been eating him.

It gave a sense of connection— knowing this change was just as daunting to you as it was for him.

“You’re going to enlighten them with your 'Nuyorican’ charm, trust me,” he said lightly.

As the airport car park came into view, Miguel felt a shudder. The moment of truth was closing in with each passing second. The parking lot was busy, surrounded by the hum of engines and the distant echo of rolling suitcases.

Once he found a parking space, he switched off the engine and sighed— the sound heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Part of him wanted to stay rooted in his seat, to delay the inevitable just a little longer.

But he knew better. There was no escaping this. No loophole.

Even if it killed him.

He stepped out of the car and opened the trunk. The reality of the situation was hitting him as he helped you with your luggage. This was really happening.

Inside the terminal, the building was bustling with activity— people rushing to catch flights, families reunited, and others parting with goodbyes. The overhead announcements echoed across the vast space, creating a backdrop of noise.

But the chaos felt distant to Miguel, like it was happening in another world. His entire focus was on the small details of you— how tightly you gripped the suitcase handle, the way your eyes darted around and scanning signs to find where you were supposed to go.

Every little movement you made seemed to carve into his memory, as if he were trying to etch these final moments into his mind.

He tried to keep himself distracted by glancing at the departure board, watching to see when your flight’s status changed to ‘boarding’. Meanwhile, you checked in your flight and dropped off any checked baggage.

Once that was done, Miguel walked with you to the security gates. His heart grew heavier with each step. The moment of separation was looking closer and closer like a looming shadow.

“Alright…this is it…” you announced, finally reaching the security gates. Only ticketed passengers could pass, so this was where he would have to let you go.

There were a few guards already waving people through, urging the crowd to keep moving. The noise of shuffling feet, distant conversations, and the occasional beep of the scanners filled the air, but it all seemed muted to Miguel. He looked back at you one last time, his heart hammering in his chest.

He wanted to say something— anything— to keep you from leaving. Words like ‘don’t go’ or ‘I love you’ hovered on the top of his tongue, but he knew they were pointless. You were leaving, the ticket was booked, and nothing he could say would change that.

“I’m… I’m gonna miss you…” the word felt insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But they were the only truth he could manage.

He knew it was pathetic to confess that now, like it wasn’t obvious already, like it was going to change anything.

“I want to give you something…” you reached for your bag, and Miguel’s breath caught in his throat when he saw what you pulled out— a Polaroid picture.

He took the picture from you, a nostalgic smile spread across your face when he saw the image. It was a picture from your early days at Alchemax, back when he had still been pretending to be annoyed with you.

In the photo, he was giving his signature grumpy glare, arms crossed over his broad chest, while you stood behind him and grinning widely. You were not bothered at all by his gruff demeanor.

“I wanted to wait until the last minute to give it to you,” you rubbed your neck sheepishly.

Miguel chuckled at your words. It was so typical of you, waiting to give him something special at just the right moment.

“Of course you did.” he replied fondly, his fingers tracing the picture gently. He slipped the photo in his wallet, a place where he could keep it close. “It’s perfect…thank you,”

It was more than just a picture, it was a snapshot of a moment in time, a memory he’d hold onto long after you were gone.

You look back up at him, your expression earnest and vulnerable. “Bésame?”

“Con mucho gusto, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he closed the distance between the two of you.

He cradled your face in his hands, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. His lips traced over the contour of yours, savouring the moment before fully capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was everything— desperate, filled with unspoken words and unfulfilled yearnings. He wanted to hold onto this moment forever, to keep you with him like this just a little longer, but he knew he had to let you go.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, though he rested his forehead on yours, his breath becoming in ragged gasps.

“Be safe, okay?” he murmured.

“I’ll call you when I land...if I get any signal,” you replied with a shaky smile.

You start to queue up for the security gates, your luggage trailing behind you. Miguel’s heart twists as the line slowly gets shorter, the distance between you growing with each passing second.

He couldn’t do anything but watch with his hands shoved deep in his jeans pockets. His eyes were fixated on your figure, memorising every last detail of you.

He knew that once you went through those gates, he would never be able to kiss you, or hold you, or touch you.

Just as you disappeared out of sight, behind the security gates, the airport intercom called out your flight number and announced the final boarding call.

He watched the departure board change to ‘In Air’ which was the final push to turn away. He walked back to his car, the Polaroid photo in his wallet burned into his psyche.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @nina-from-317 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @cupcakeinat0r @club-danger-zone @kavimoo

@fullmetalgizzy @frogs-and-oscar-brainrot @embearlyhere @soymiguelsesposa @twwcs

@safixiovi @tatatida @ghostsdoll @hyjionie @tomalymme

@saintdiior

Look, I know the smut seems a little rushed here but I didn’t want to focus on the spice in this story but rather the bittersweet, emotionally rollercoaster.

Ayrus xoxo

#★— ayrus writes #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman miguel #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #miguel smut

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pitchsidestories · 5 months ago

Text

treat you better II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Reader

part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2451

a/n: hi, it's based off this request here, please enjoy. <3

warnings: toxic (ex-)partner, but with a happy ending.

You had been staring on your phone all evening, impatiently waiting to see your girlfriends number appear on the screen. But your phone stayed silent.

Subconsciously, you tapped on the photos icon on your home screen and started to scroll through pictures of you and her together.

Since you parted ways last summer when you moved to Barcelona and she joined Chelsea, you talked less and less. She said she was cool with it but you had the feeling that this lack of communication strained your relationship.

“Y/n?“, Ingrids voice disrupted your thoughts.

“Yes?“ You looked up, surprised about the fact that you were not the only one in the changing room after your late gym session.

The Norwegian sat down on the bench next to you: “Are you still waiting?“

You sighed and forced yourself to put your phone aside: “She promised to call me tonight…“

“You’ve been waiting for hours.“, Mapi reminded you from the other side of the room where she casually leaned against the lockers.

You remained silent. Somehow you felt very stupid in that situation.

Ingrid gently laid a hand on your knee. With slight concern in her voice, she asked: “Have you had dinner yet?“

“No…“, you admitted reluctantly.

With a smirk, Mapi folded her arms across her chest: “Let’s go get some then.“

“Wear something you love. We’ll pick you up later.“, Ingrid winked before taking her bag and leaving the changing room with her girlfriend.

You silently nodded to yourself. They really tricked you into having to go home instead of sitting on the hard bench for hours, waiting for that call.

You followed their instructions as soon as you returned to your apartment and slipped into lacy black top and your favourite suit. You were just in the process of doing your hair when the couple rang at your door.

“I’m ready.“, you called out to them while grabbing a black handbag and slipping on a pair of sneakers.

“Good, lets go.“, Mapi grinned as you joined them outside.

“You look stunning by the way.“, Ingrid complimented your outfit.

You beamed: “Thank you.“

“You both do.“, Mapi joined in, taking both you and Ingrid in.

“Ingrid and you always look so beautiful.“, you said. A lot of people on your team dressed well but you often found yourself in awe of what a gorgeous couple they were. And then you remembered something: “My girlfriend doesn’t like me in suits.“

Mapis smile turned immediately into a frown: “Why not?“

“She said it looks too gay.“, you relayed what your girlfriend had told you several times before.

You noticed Mapi and Ingrid sharing a concerned look.

“But…“, Ingrid began.

“What a weird thing to say!”, the Spanish defender commented outraged on both of their behalf’s.

Her Norwegian girlfriend nodded in silent agreement.

“It kind of is right?”, you bit your lip guiltily while you three took your seats at the table of the restaurant. It was way fancier than you expected. But just like the couple it had an elegant touch to it. The candlelight tinted your faces shine in a warm, soft glow.

“I only know that from people who don’t want other women to notice their girlfriends.”, Mapi admitted, sounding serious.

“Which is weird because no matter how you dress y/n, people will always notice you. You’re always gorgeous.”, the younger woman observed, looking deep into your eyes as she spoke.

These words coming from such a beautiful human herself made your cheeks turn pink. You were never happier for the dimly lit room, so it was hard to see the change of your face colour.

“Exactly, you’re our team Estrella for a reason.”, the heavily tattooed Spaniard reminded you of the nickname you had in your team.

A sad smile appeared on her lips, remembering how you changed since your girlfriend has stepped into your life. The Barcelona girls were all a bit worried as your spark has lessened over the time.

“Although you lost a bit of your light.”, Mapi sighed.

“I didn’t loose my light.”, you protested weakly. Unsure if you really trusted your own words in the situation.

“Y/n, you deserve better.”, Ingrid replied, taking your hand into hers to squeeze it empathetically.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine.”, you tried to assure them.

“Do you know what you want to order?”, the defender swiftly changed the topic to something more enjoyable.

When the meals arrived, you clapped excitedly into your hands:” This looks so delicious.”

“It’s the best, trust us.”, Mapi grinned.

“I do.”, you answered smiling. Everyone in your team knew that the two women didn’t only have great taste in clothes, but in food as well.

“As you should.”, the Scandinavian chirmed.

Looking around, soaking into the calm atmosphere of your surroundings, you declared:” This is really nice here.”

“It’s our favourite.”, the older woman confessed beaming.

“It’s perfect for dates..”, your heart sank once the sentence was out. Wishing your girlfriend was here in this moment even though you knew deep inside that it was almost more fun with your two teammates, less stressful for you. Their relaxedness rubbed a bit on to you and you felt a sense of calm.

“Yes, very romantic.”, Ingrid answered delighted.

“You two are so cute.”, you hummed.

Mapi exchanged a look with Ingrid before she leaned over the table and whispered: “Ingrid always is when she really likes someone…“

“She’s?“, you asked, not sure what the defender was hinting at.

“I guess thats true, yes.“, Ingrid admitted, slightly flustered. Her long fingers barely touching yours on the table.

You looked up at her: “Oh.“

“Wasn’t your girlfriend supposed to come tomorrow to spend your free weekend together? What did you plan for that?“, Mapi inquired suddenly. She studied your face for any change.

You shrugged nonchalantly as if you had not planned this for over a week now: “Oh, I thought I would show her Barcelona. And then we could have a little picnic down at the beach.“

“Oh my god. That’s so sweet.“, Ingrid squeed.

“I thought she would enjoy that. But she hasn’t confirmed yet that she would be able to make it.“ You tried to keep any disappointment out of your voice.

“If she can’t make it in time, we’d love to come and do it with you.“, Mapi smiled.

“You’d?“

Ingrid confirmed with a nod: “Yes, we would.“

You could feel your heart flutter in your chest. “That’s so nice of you.“

“It’ll be a pleasure, y/n.“, Mapi said, reaching for your hand.

You had such a lovely evening with your teammates that when the call came the next morning, it felt like a shock. You knew what she was about to say before she even greeted you.

“Sorry, y/n. I can’t come… Emma said we need to do extra training on the weekend.“

“Oh… that’s okay. Next time maybe.“, you replied almost automatically.

You knew you should feel sad or disappointed about her cancellation but there was also a part of you that felt nothing but relief in this moment.

You immediately took your phone and messaged Mapi and Ingrid to come down to the beach later today if they were still down for it.

Weirdly, you found yourself less anxious and more excitement for the picnic with the two of them while you started packing everything.

You met Mapi and Ingrid in the late evening. A blanket and a few pillows were already spread out on the fine sand when they arrived. Freshly baked bread, cheese and ham as well as olives and grapes were piled high on plates.

“This is literally perfect.“, Ingrid marvelled at the sight.

Mapi sat down: “I agree, this is so nice.“

“We’ll see the sunset too.“, you added, pointing towards the horizon.

Ingrid popped a piece of cheese into her mouth and laid her head into you lap: “I hope you don’t mind too much that you have to spend the evening with us.“

Absentmindedly, you started to stroke her dark hair: “I mean I’m a bit sad that she couldn’t come but your company definitely makes it better.“

“Don’t worry, we can make sure you have a good time too.”, the Spanish defender promised.

“You already do a great job at that.”, you assured the couple. With a melancholic glance at the sea you added:” I just miss her and being touched, does that sound weird?”

“No, that makes perfect sense.”, the Norwegian told you while simultaneously exchanging a knowing look between her and her girlfriend.

Afterwards a pleasant silence descended upon you three, the only sound came from the waves crashing on the shore, until Mapi raised her voice.

“We’d treat you better.”

“What?”, you looked at her in surprise.

“You’re unhappy with her. She’s been ignoring you, she always wants to have the upper hand.. and we saw that she likes to leave her marks when you saw each other.”, Ingrid listed the reasons why you should break up with your girlfriend on her long, elegant fingers.

“And you two think you can treat me better?”, you nervously licked your lips, too afraid to look directly into their eyes, so you chose to watch at the water instead.

“No. We know we can treat you better.”, the tattooed woman corrected you in a serious tone. Her girlfriend nodded in quiet agreement.

“Which isn’t hard because I’m pretty sure she’s seeing someone else behind your back.”, Mapi continued, there was anger towards your lover swinging in her voice.

“The whole team thinks so.”, the Scandinavian cleared her throat. Every teammate thought that you deserved better than that.

You were startled by your own words coming out of your mouth next:” I suspected it, because I asked Millie if they had training on the weekend, she said no.”

The one thing you were sure was that your England teammate and co-captain would never lie to you. Remembering the short call made you tear up all over again. Nothing hurt more when knowing that everyone knew someone was betraying you behind your back.

“I’m sorry, amor. But we don’t want to see you suffer any longer.”, empathetically Mapi laid an arm around you:

“I feel so stupid, girls.”, you confessed, trying to swipe away the tears streaming down your cheek.

“You’re not stupid.”, Ingrid pressed a kiss on to your hand before raising up to hug you from the other side.

“We all have been here.”, the defender told you.

“Really?”

“Really.”, she replied.

Suddenly you knew what to do, you didn’t knew where the bravery came from, but you were grateful for it as you announced: “ I’ll tell her that I’m done with her games, the only game I’m interested in is football.”

“That sounds reasonable.”, the Norwegian beamed at you proudly.

“It’s for the best.“, you said quietly, not sure if you were talking to them or to yourself.

Mapi flashed you an encouraging smile: “Yes, but you’ll always have us.“

“Right, you can count on us.“, Ingrid agreed.

“Thank you, girls.“

“You’re welcome.“

You slowly stood up from the blanket, pulling your phone out of your pocket and took a deep breath: “Excuse me. I think I’ll have to make a call.“

Ingrid nodded: “Go on.“

“See you in a minute.“ You forced yourself to a smile.

There was something in the way, they looked at you that gave you the confidence to walk a few steps closer to the water and dial you girlfriends phone number.

“Hi, y/n.“, she greeted you. She never sounded happy when you called, only annoyed as if you were always calling at the wrong time.

“Hey, I need to talk to you about something…“, you came straight to the point. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Sure, but I need to leave soon so you better make it quick.“

In this moment, you knew you made the right decision. There was no fear or doubt, the words just came to you: “I can make it very quick. I want to break up.“

There was a moment of silence on her end and you briefly wondered if she had even heard you. Her voice was high-pitched and she was yelling when she finally replied: “What?! Are you kidding me? I’m the best thing you’ve ever had!“

You remained calm and composed: “You’ve been avoiding me for some time now. I think I deserve better.“

She laughed: “Oh please, you’re so pathetic, y/n.“

“You’re with someone else. I know that. It was pathetic that I believed you.“

“You’ll never find someone as good as me!“, your now ex-girlfriend spat.

Subconsciously, your gaze drifted back to the picnic blanket. You realized that Mapi and Ingrid were no longer sitting there.

Gentle fingers took the phone out of your hand. You looked up to see Mapi speaking into the phone: “Oh, don’t worry. She’s got someone better now. Someone who actually appreciates her.“

Your ex-girlfriend went quiet. “Good luck with that, y/n.“, she said, her voice icy cold before hanging up.

Ingrid stood in front of you, studying your face. You were confused but also relieved. It was finally over.

“Hey, come here. You did so well.“, you felt Ingrids arms wrap around your torso. You held out one arm as an invitation for Mapi to join the hug.

The Spanish defender pressed a kiss to your temple: “You deserve this.“

There was so much you wanted to tell them but you had no words for it. So you just stood there for the moment, grateful and safe in their embrace.

Immediately after the breakup, Mapi and Ingrid started to take you out to more dates. A few months later, you were officially in a relationship with both of them.

You could have never imagined yourself in a polyamorous relationship before but the two of them made it easy. It was probably one of the healthiest relationships you had ever been in. In contrast to your previous relationship, there was no mistrust and no jealousy.

Seeing your girlfriend on the pitch in your Champions League matches agains Chelsea surprisingly did not bother you at all. Especially not, once you knocked them out of the UWCL.

As soon as the final whistle blew, Mapi jogged towards you and kissed you excitedly: “You’ve been amazing, amor!“

“My girls! We won!“, Ingrid joined the two of you.

You turned towards her to give her a celebratory kiss as well.

You could feel your exes angry stares at you but could not care less. You just booked the ticket to the UWCL final with your amazing and supportive girlfriends, there was no space in your life for her anymore.

a/n: we always appreciate comments, likes and reblogs. <3

#ingrid engen #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen imagine #mapi leon #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon imagine #ingrid engen x mapi leon x reader #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #woso one shot #woso oneshot #barca femeni #mapi leon x ingrid engen x reader

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strawbeerossi · 1 year ago

Text

Dress

Pairing: Husband!Spencer x Wife!Reader

Description: When you’re getting ready for an event over at Rossi’s, you express how you feel you don’t look your best in the dress you had your heart set on. Spencer is gonna do his best to show you just how beautiful that you are.

Content/Warnings: Body image issues, full body kissing, oral (f receiving), praise, pet names, just some good love and fluffy sex.

Word Count: 1.9K

Kinktober Day One: Body Worship

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

The dress looked so beautiful whenever you bought it. The black silhouette did good at hugging your frame, highlighting every dip and curve. Most people would’ve loved to wear a dress like this one, to steal all the attention of the night and feel nothing short of a beauty queen. It was elegant, a smooth velvet that showed poise. However, it didn’t really work out that way for you the more you looked at it without the presence of wine and the loving encouragement of your friends.

That’s why you found yourself standing in place, trying to smooth out what you deemed as imperfections that just wouldn’t go away. This was a nightmare.

“We are going to be late, my love.” Spencer called from his spot in the shared bedroom, looking in the standing mirror on the back of our door as he was fixing his tie. Formal events at Dave’s house were always a fun time. You’d actually managed to feel fancier than normal, the champagne and pleasant conversation adding onto that. You were also quite fond of the idea of socializing with some of the people who had known Dave or even the other members of the team at any step in their lives.

“I think I’m gonna have to pretend to be sick..” You sighed while making your way out of the bathroom, heels clicking against the wooden tile and catching Spencer’s attention. “Why would you pretend to be sick?” He asked, voice filled with concern as he was approaching you, his hands gently cupping your warm cheeks.

Now there are many answers that you could’ve come up with to deter from the overwhelming amount of insecurity festering inside of your mind and body from the dress that you so desperately needed to buy online. Marrying a profiler meant that he would be able to call you out on the lies.

You opted for honesty.

“I just..” Your eyes were trained on the mirror across the room. There was hatred for the sight looking back at you. In a way, it felt as if you were drowning in poor self esteem. Fuck this dress. Why did you have to pick one right off the rack without trying it on first? JJ told you that it was sleek, sexy. It felt the complete opposite. “I don’t like the way I look in this dress. I don’t have anything else to wear over to Dave’s house and I don’t know if I could show my face wearing this.”

There was no doubt that Emily, JJ, Tara and Penelope would be elegantly dressed with flattering attire that highlighted every positive about their bodies. While all having different body types, it was easy to see the beauty in each of them. They all had such well defined features, their bodies being sculpted from the finest stone. They were all four Persephone reincarnated.

Then there was you, the awkwardly shaped one who never felt like she fit in. Your hair wasn’t as nice as theirs, your teeth weren't as nice and perfect.. Sometimes you found yourself wondering why Spencer chose to marry you whenever he had such fine women on his team. The self deprecating thoughts were cut off by Spencer, a soft shushing sound leaving his lips. You’d been crying for a minute without realizing.

“I think,” He began while leaning forward to press his lips against yours. “That you look,” He continued on with his soft, sweet kisses as they moved to your jaw. “Absolutely,” His lips were soon on the flesh of your neck as he let his arms wrap around your waist. “Ravishing.” He finally finished, his hands running over your hips in an effort to soothe those wandering thoughts.

“You don’t believe me.” Spencer’s voice stayed steady, a frown forming on his face while you were blinking away a few tears.

“It’s okay, I will have to just show you just how beautiful you really are.” With his hands moving to the zipper of the dress, you could feel your cheeks heating up. “We are going to be late,” You spoke while letting your eyes fall shut as the wet kisses were slowly trailing down to your shoulders. “I think David would understand. Besides, I can promise you that it’ll be an all night affair.” He chuckled. Which, yeah.. That made sense. David Rossi could keep an event going all night if he truly wanted.

As the black dress pooled by your feet, you offered a shy smile as the kisses continued, your skin being filled with warmth from all of the love radiating off of Spencer’s lips from each kiss that was littered across the skin of your shoulders and collarbones. “Besides.. I’ve been punctual for the past fifteen years in every aspect. I think that I can be late just this once.” He chuckled, hands coming up to unclasp the black bra you’d picked out, letting it fall with the dress before he was lifting you in his arms, prompting you to let your arms to quickly wrap around his shoulders. “We shouldn’t take too long anyway.”

Your body hit the clean duvet when you were laid back on the bed, the cover still smelling of the sea breeze fabric softener that you’d become so obsessed with. Your husband’s lips continue to trail wet kisses across your skin, his hands running up your body as he was on his knees beside you. “You’re so beautiful, my love.” His words were soft, sweet. “Especially laid out like this for me.” You’d been nearly bare, panties separating your wet pussy from his loving gaze. His hands massaged the skin of your hips, lips littering more kisses around your chest area. “My perfect girl, I don’t know how a guy like me could be so lucky.” Love dripped onto your skin akin to the feeling of the bright sun shining against your skin on the hottest days. Your response came in the form of a soft breath, feeling his tongue flick over your right nipple.

His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, the male humming in delight as he could feel it hardening at the wet muscle massaging over it. He knew the sensitivity of your body, his hands kneading at the warm flesh of your breasts. You were reduced to soft moans, encouragement for more as your fingers tangled in the once neatly styled curls. “Fuck, Spence.” Your words were a melody to his ears, the male not always being so fond of partaking in swearing or really listening to it. However, whenever you did? He enjoyed it. That meant he was doing his job in the intimate positions that you both had found yourselves in.

Pulling off with a loud ‘pop’ filling the room, the honey colored irises were focused on your face, still contorted in pleasure as his hands were massaging your tits with his large hands. He repeated the same action with the opposite nipple, one hand dropping and his fingertips trailing down your skin, the goosebumps on your body standing at attention as his thumb was pressing against your clothed clit, hips wiggling in an effort for more.

Who was Spencer to deny his amazing wife the pleasure that she so desperately deserved?

Even if he didn’t want to, the male was detaching his mouth from your chest while his long fingers were hooking into the waistband of your panties. Your hips lifted out of instinct, body feeling hotter than ever as you were desperate to feel more of the touch you craved in the place that you needed it most.

After the panties were tossed somewhere behind him, the male let his hands carefully push your thighs apart, eyes focused on your slick cunt that looked more beautiful than he could put into words. His mouth was agape at the sight, those pretty honey eyes slowly disappearing in the black of his pupils.

“Fuck,” The swear was rare, yet hearing it fall from his voice in the dulcet tone never failed to surprise you.

“We’ve got twenty minutes before Dave starts calling,”Spencer spoke while glancing at the alarm clock, eyes falling on the mouthwatering sight nestled between your thighs. “So, think you can do it?”

The question was rhetorical. He knew by now how your body operated.

Before you could answer, his face was disappearing between your thighs, lips pressing kisses to your inner thighs as he sucked and nibbled at your skin. Leaving hickies between your legs was the best place, mainly because they were for his eyes only. It wasn't something unprofessional to where you couldn’t go to work without covering up. Less headache. The man was practical.

His tongue lapped over your clit as he was delving in, eyes fluttering shut. His favorite place had to be between your thighs. Stressful case? He’s licking and sucking your wet cunt from the safety of your hotel room. You want intimacy but he’s not in the mood for sex himself? He’s disappearing under the sheets.

He was intoxicated by your sweetness, drinking in every ounce of arousal that you were so happily giving him. His tongue ran alongside your velvety inner walls, your pussy spasming from the muscle that was darting in and out of you, having to alternate between your clit and your core.

Your hands were tangled in the now messy curls, your back arching off the mattress while the sounds of your moans and cries filled the room in addition to the suckling and groans coming from your husband, who was so focused on licking every inch of you.

You felt the familiar warmth deep in your stomach, a knot tightening inside of you as your pulsating walls were closing in on Spencer’s tongue. With your hands shoving his face deeper into your weeping pussy. “I’m gonna cum, Spence.” You panted out, eyes fluttering shut as your head tilted back against the pillow behind your head.You know that you couldn’t hold back any longer, your body giving every indication that it was ready to unleash a wave of ecstasy.

The man licking and sucking didn’t let up, his hands having to hold your hips down as your orgasm was building. The more you wiggled and thrashed, the more that he knew that it was coming.

“I-” You tried to get out, however that didn’t work out in your favor as a moan was chasing what was supposed to come out of your mouth. Your legs were shaking as you were finally hitting release, your nails digging into your husband’s scalp while your mouth was agape.

The warm muscle was licking and cleaning up your thighs before you were seeing your husband’s face again. His chin was wet and his hair was an absolute mess as he rubbed your thighs.

“Let's get you in that pretty dress and get to Rossi’s.” He breathed, letting his teeth playfully bite at your inner thigh before he was pushing himself up.

Which you didn’t argue, the post sex haze making it difficult to speak. Even after you were redressed and Spencer had his hair fixed once more, he was coming to wrap his arms around your waist as he noticed you in front of the mirror.

“Feeling better? Cause I promise that you are going to be the most gorgeous woman there, you’re gonna have all of Rossi’s friends flirting with you.” He mused, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as you let out an airy laugh.

“Let’s get going, hmm? I need my beauty queen to make me look good.” He offered his arm out to you as they linked together, his free hand on your arm as you both made your way downstairs.

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multi-fandom-imagine · 9 months ago

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Past self meeting future self is actually one of my favourite trope, Could I please request Overlord!Husk meeting Husk and s/o's triplets, I feel like after the confusion he would refuse to put any of them down, and of course the kittens love him because it's their dad just fancier.

A/n: and after he got back to his own time he went to his s/o {you} and states he wants kids

Being in another time where he wasn't an Overlord! Fine ya whatever. He could handle that, I mean it's not like everything he worked hard for was gone but it wasn't all bad....he did have you.

He couldn't help but scowl as he watched his other self bend down behind the counter to grab something. "How did I get so pathetic?"

"Me? Pathetic?" Husk tensed. "I have a wife and kids, I ain't pathetic." Sure he may not have his soul but he was happy, he had people that loved and cared him.

Rolling his neck, Husk glared at him then wrinkled his nose. "Try not go touch anything, I have something I need to grab."

Watching himself walk away, Overlord!Husk slumped into the seat though he did his best to ignore the sudden sounds of yips coming his way though it did not take long to feel three tiny bodies slam into him. "Shit, what?" Grabbing the scruff of what slammed into him, he pulled it back seeing a white ball of fluff with tiny wings.

A choir of papa's echoing throughout the room as the other two snuggled deep within his own wings, tiny little body's. "Listen I ain't." Gritting his teeth he looked at the tiny little kit the struggled to free it's self from his grasp. She was so small, a lot smaller than the other two. "Pa."

Sighing,Overlord!Husk brought the little one to his chest. His claw scratching the top of her head, a soft purr escaping her little body as she nuzzled more into his chest.

"You've got to be shitting me." Husk gripped the bottle of alcohol in his grasp. Seeing his kits, in the smug assholes arms was enough to send him over the edge.

"Husk please...they're finally sleeping and I am very tired." You placed your hand on Husk's shoulder to calm him down. "He won't be here long."

Grumbling, Husk wanted nothing more than to smash this bottle over his head but he would do anything for you and his kits. "Fine."

Overlord!Husk let out his own smirk as he looked you over. He couldn't help but feel something stir within him. The three kits were snuggled deep within his expensive suit. "Not my fault they like class."

Growling, Husk slammed his hand down on the table startling the kits awake. "LISTEN HERE YOU FAT FUCK."

Your own groan leaving your lips as the three kits let out a choir of cries. "Of course."

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krowlovesinazuma · 7 months ago

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Alright I ask for headcanons yet again Except this time for once I'm not insane How would Chiori react to the reader preferring their own clothes over Teyvat's? (Judging from the overall complexity of Genshin Impact's outfits, I can deduce that our modern-day clothing probably feels a lot more comfy)

Read this prologue for context!

Scenario: Reaction to Reader's casual dress style

Characters: Chiori

For starters, Chiori is an incredibly forward person on purpose, no matter who she's dealing with, no matter how powerful or all mighty they might be, and even though you may be special in a different way, it's no difference to her.

When she sees your clothes for the first time, her mind takes a moment to properly process it. She hadn't actually imagined what you looked like before, but an otherworldly fashion style wasn't in her mind! She'll definitely rope you into checking out your outfit sooner than later.

With this check though, she's quick to realize that your outfit, made of a simple t-shirt and jacket, is made with comfortability and casual vibes in mind. Just to make sure, she'll ask plenty of questions! Mostly out of curiosity.

As soon as she confirms this theory, she'll get started on measuring you up, and making a new outfit of her own! She understands now that you prefer comfortability over style, but that doesn't mean she'll let you walk away without something of hers on.

She'll probably make a few prototype sets to understand what you find comfortable in clothes, as she was very much specialized in fancier, high status clothing making! It's a challenge she very much welcomes, no matter how much you may protest her attempts.

In the end though, she is primarily doing this for you, to help you feel more at home in this weird place. She knows the effects that clothing can have not only in onlookers, but one's sense of self, and she's here to help out with that.

Once you sound satisfied, and select which of her prototypes you liked best, she'll make a set only for you, making sure to stop progress on her other orders until this one is finished. It'll be a secret endeavor, as she knows the value in keeping your name hidden.

That'll be far from it, however. Don't be surprised if you get gifts from her every now and then with more sets of comfortable, yet fashionable clothing! Making sure to put in an Inazuman flare for you to fit in best, every piece was original and unique.

Whenever you feel the urge to thank her, she simply cuts it short and continues on. In fact, since this is her way of thanking you, she can't help but take it as something endearing, how you failed to see how much you've already done for her.

She hasn't forgotten the kindness and happiness that you showed her when you still controlled the game world from outside, and this is just her returning a due favor. You definitely notice the difference when interacting with the others, as they feel more at ease with your more familiar clothes. Perhaps she was right about your previous clothes being a problem...

"How would you say that set is compared to the last? Yes, these are important questions. This has been quite the enjoyable riddle, but I can only improve with feedback, and you're my only target audience. Don't worry about rushing it, just think deeply and answer me in detail, for the sake of a better set next time."

#genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #inazuma aficionado sagau #chiori x reader #sagau chiori #sagau chiori x reader

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iamnotoriginalphil · 11 months ago

Text

Sweet Girl (Billie Dean Howard x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Meeting your mother's friend was the best day of your life.

Words: 6.9k

Warnings: Semi-choking, praise kink, smut, age gap, marking, alcohol consumption, swearing

“Hey, mom, I-”

You paused in the doorway. The blonde woman who looked up at you, hands curled around one of your mother’s mugs, steam wafting upwards, was most certainly not your mom. Her pink lips quirked up into a smile, eyes sweeping over your body before settling on your face again.

“You’re not my mom,” you said.

“I’m certainly not,” she replied.

You weren’t sure what else to say. She was still watching you, head tilted to one side, and you felt yourself tremble under her gaze. There was something about it that felt like a caress across your skin.

“Um, is my mom around? Only I’m pretty sure this is still her house. Unless she moved without telling me which I wouldn’t put past her,” you said.

“She’s upstairs,” she replied.

“Right.”

Your weight rocked forward before you fell back. Looking away, you were feeling something growing in your stomach, familiar and warm, making your fingers itch. You shoved your hands into your pockets. Her low chuckle was throaty, your eyes snapping up to her again.

The silk blouse she was wearing was open just one button too far, an enticing shadow making you want to lean forward and run your tongue between the valley of her breasts. She crossed one leg over the other, drawing your attention down to where her skirt fluttered around her calves. A hand tipped in pink acrylics began to drum over the tabletop, slow and deliberate. You felt breathless, standing under her gaze.

“Ah, darling, you’re here. Wonderful. Have you met Billie? You must have,” your mother said, coming down the stairs.

You dragged your eyes away from her guest, Billie, to look over to her. She was smiling at you, looking ready for brunch. In your jeans and t-shirt, you were definitely the most underdressed in the room.

“Why are you dressed like that?” your mother asked, sweeping past you to sit at the table with Billie.

“You asked me to come over. Is everything okay? What’s going on?” you asked.

“Darling, we’re going to brunch,” she replied.

“What? Mom, I have class in twenty minutes. I thought this was an emergency,” you said, your exasperation leaking through.

“Surely you can skip just this once,” your mother said, “you’re always too busy to see me anymore.”

“Mom,” you sighed.

“Billie was so looking forward to meeting you,” she said.

“Come on,” Billie said, leaning towards you, “live a little.”

“Fine,” you said, “fine, but you’re buying my meal. And drinks.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” she said.

Sitting in the back of your mother’s car as she drove, you did your best not to stare at the blonde head in front of you. Her eyes kept finding yours in the rear view mirror, sparkling brown, while she kept up with her conversation with your mother. You felt like a sullen teenager sitting there, silent and annoyed. The guilt churning in your stomach was an irritant, your mother knowing how to push your buttons.

The restaurant you were brought to was fancy, fancier than you would ever go to with your friends. From the way you were being looked at, you knew you weren’t dressed well enough for the place. You sat outside, across from Billie, your mother between the two of you. Your server poured iced water into the glasses before leaving the three of you, your quiet thanks the only one given.

“What are you studying?” Billie asked.

“Media and communication,” you replied, fiddling with your cloth napkin.

“A useless choice,” your mother scoffed, scanning over the menu, “I told her to choose something worthwhile. Like biology or accounting.”

“I want to make documentaries,” you said, ignoring your mother completely.

“Well, that sounds wonderful,” Billie said.

“Don’t indulge her,” your mother said.

“Mom, we’ve talked about this,” you sighed.

“You’re so smart, darling. You could do more with your life than making silly movies about things people don’t care about,” she said, placing her menu down.

You gave a cursory glance over yours, not wanting to answer her. You’d had that very same argument time and time again, there was no point trying again. She had her opinion and there was no changing it in your experience.

“Perhaps I could put you in contact with some documentarians,” Billie said before your mother could go into it again, “or if you’d like work experience my show is always looking for interns.”

“Show?”

“Darling, you know Billie. There’s no point feigning ignorance,” your mother sighed.

“Billie Dean Howard,” she said, extending her hand over the table, “medium to the stars.”

You shook her hand, the brush of her skin over yours bringing heat to your cheeks. She was giving you a small smile, chin tilted down, her eyes sparkling with interest. Your breath caught, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Her gaze dipped down to your lips, making heat bloom in your stomach.

“You know her,” your mother was saying, not noticing of the moment you were having, “I’m sure you’ve seen her show. It’s always on.”

“Mom, I don’t… own a TV,” you said, breaking the moment, turning away from Billie and the gravity you felt begging you to fall into her.

“You don’t?” Billie asked.

You turned to look at her, finding her resting her chin in the palm of her hand. Your breath caught again, the way she was looking at you was like you were the most interesting thing she could imagine. You weren’t used to being looked at that way.

“May I take your orders?”

You startled, not having noticed the waiter approaching. A curse slipped over your lips, Billie’s throaty chuckle only bringing more heat to your cheeks. You muttered your order, passing over the menu.

“And a round of mimosas,” your mother said.

You opened your mouth to argue but then shut it again. Billie caught your eye, giving you an amused smile. Butterflies burst in your stomach. You looked down to your lap, not needing this while also dealing with your mother. Why did your mother have to have such a beautiful friend?

You listened as they talked, staying silent. Billie kept catching your eye across the table, a twist of her lips and wandering gaze making you wonder if this wasn’t some kind of torture. Your mother seemed none the wiser of your crisis, but the blonde was watching you as you did your best not to wonder what her fingers would feel like trailing along your skin as they circled the rim of her mimosa.

You downed yours in your attempt to keep yourself from groaning when her tongue darted out, chasing a drop of orange juice at the corner of her lips.

Your French toast was placed down in front of you, the mimosa replaced without being asked. Digging in, you watched Billie salt her eggs Benedict. Your mother wrinkled her nose at you.

“Darling, at some point you’ll have to raise your palette to something more adult,” she said.

“You know I have a sweet tooth,” you mumbled.

“It’s hard to resist something so sweet, isn’t it, sweet girl?” Billie said and you thought you had to be reading too much into her words.

There was no way she’d blatantly flirt with you in front of your mom. Would she? Maybe she would. You didn’t know her at all.

You wanted to though.

As you went to take a sip from your replenished mimosa, you felt a foot graze along yours. You spluttered, dribbling some of the cocktail down your chin. You wiped it away, ignoring your mother’s admonishment to glare across the table. Billie had her lips pressed together, suppressing laughter as she peered back at you, eyes twinkling.

Her foot was slow to glide up your leg, taking her time as you felt yourself become more unhinged. Swiping up some of the sauce on her plate, her tongue licked along her fingers before she sucked it into her mouth, cheeks hollowing, dark eyes keeping your attention hostage. Your mother was still speaking, but it was on the periphery of your senses, your entire being focused on the feeling of her foot brushing your leg, her tongue flicking over her skin, her eyes boring into yours.

Her small smirk told you she knew exactly what she was doing to you.

“I should go,” you said, abruptly standing.

“So soon?” Billie asked.

“I have class,” you muttered, “I’ll text you later, mom.”

You fled from your brunch, heart racing and skin tingling. Dark eyes haunted you on your trek to college and you found yourself wondering what pink lips would taste like. You were stuck contemplating the entire experience instead of listening to your classes, not willing to admit how much you wanted her.

Later, at home, you watched clips of her show on YouTube, one hand in your underwear, imagining it was hers.

A week later, against your better judgement, you agreed to join your friends at one of the bougie bars that you knew was overpriced but catered to a certain clientele. Growing up with a relatively rich crowd, you still felt out of place, even with your mother’s money. It had always settled around you like an uncomfortable skin. But every now and then, you joined your childhood friends for a night out.

This time you did not come underdressed. Your dress was nice and your hair was styled. You’d even put on some makeup. You had heels on. No one could suggest you hadn’t dressed up for your night out.

The lighting was dim, making the atmosphere feel intimate. It was the kind of place you’d bring a date, if you wanted to show off the way your father tried to buy your love by filling your bank account.

Your friends claimed one of the tables, plush leather seats cushioning your body. A bottle of champagne was bought for the table, starting off your night. You kept relatively quiet, listening to what your friends had been up to, not wanting to admit that you were still pursuing a college education in something not business adjacent. You’d heard every joke under the sun from them when you’d first started. Mostly about how you were going to be a homeless bum by the time you were thirty.

A large group came in somewhere between the third and fourth round of drinks. You kept your head bent, not caring, only concerned for the noise that would come from them. There was a part of you considering going home, not sure you should have said yes to coming out with your friends. You were getting pleasantly buzzed, but you were tired and looking to curl up in bed with your laptop and thoughts of dark eyes and pink nails.

Noticing your drink was empty, you got to your feet, wandering up to the bar. You hoisted yourself into one of the seats, one leg crossing over the other, the hem of your skirt riding up as you lent forward.

“Hello, sweet girl,” a warm voice purred in your ear.

You startled, turning your head to look over your shoulder. Blonde curls resting against her shoulder, lips pulling up into a wicked smile, dark eyes glittering, Billie Dean Howard looked as if she’d stepped right out of your fantasies. You could feel your eyes widening as you watched her take the seat beside you, long fingers tapping on the top of the bar, pink acrylics making a pleasing noise where they connected with wood.

“What are you doing here, sweet girl?” she asked, “I wouldn’t think this was your kind of a place.”

“My friends,” you gestured somewhere behind you, “they uh… this is their kind of place.”

She didn’t even bother glancing at your group. Her eyes had settled on you and you weren’t sure they would be moving any time soon. The barman arrived and she didn’t even bother looking to him, ordering for both you and herself. Your heart fluttered. She oozed confidence, as if there was no doubt in your mind that she was charming you.

She was.

A green cocktail was placed down in front of you, the gin and tonic she’d ordered far simpler than your drink. She waited for you to try it before she sipped from her own drink, humming low in her throat. You shuddered, sweetness bursting on your tongue from the sugar rim on the glass. You licked some away, watching the way her eyes darkened as she watched your tongue drag along the glass.

“Are you enjoying it, sweet girl?” she asked.

You nodded, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“Let me spoil you,” she said, hand landing on your leg.

Her thumb brushed the inside of your thigh, your skin almost electrified under her touch. She lent towards you, her nails digging in just enough to feel the sting. Heat coursed through your veins. You found yourself leaning towards her too, not able to stop yourself.

“Would you like to be spoiled, sweet girl?” she asked in almost a whisper.

Your mouth turned dry, knowing you definitely weren’t reading too much into her words now. Her eyes drifted down, lingering on your cleavage, shown to great effect in your dress. Her hand shifted up, just an inch, making you shiver.

“Well?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes please,” you breathed.

Any reason to say no was gone from your head. That fact she was friends with your mom didn’t even register. All you could focus on was the heat pooling in your stomach and the brush of her thumb over the vulnerable skin of your inner thigh. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, her eyes finding it, focusing as she lent forward even closer, breath ghosting over your skin.

“Hey, who’s this?”

An arm was slung around your shoulders, your friend, Rachel, leaning against you. Billie lent back, hand slipping to rest on your knee. You had to press your lips together to keep your whimper inside, not able to live down the thought of your friend hearing you.

“This is Billie, she’s uh… she’s a friend of mom’s,” you replied.

“Wait, shit, I know you. You’re that psychic off the tv,” Rachel said.

“Medium,” she replied, voice much colder than when it had been directed at you.

“You talk to ghosts and shit,” she said, voice loud from right beside your ear.

“I do,” she replied, tilting her chin up, looking down her nose at your friend.

“That’s crazy,” she said, “you actually think you’re talking to ghosts?”

“I am actually talking to ghosts,” she replied, sounding icier than you’d ever heard her.

“Crazy,” she said again, awed by her supposed insanity.

“Well, it was lovely seeing you,” she said to you.

She rose from the stool she’d been sitting in, leaving your heart thumping wildly. She gave you one lingering look before leaving you be with Rachel. Your friend swooped in, stealing her seat, leaning towards you with her forearms resting on the bar.

“Were you trying to go home with her?” she asked.

“What?” you laughed.

“Celebrity fucking. Are you in on it? Because if you are I think Matthew is winning on that front. He got a Kardashian,” she said, “but hey, I get it. You have to start somewhere. Work up to the big guns.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, indignation beginning to rise.

“Start with some insignificant woman with a show before you move on to the hot ones. She’ll be easy, I bet. Probably a good ego boost to have someone so young pursuing her. I doubt she’s fucked anyone in ages,” she said before clicking to get the barman’s attention.

“I’m gonna…” You didn’t bother finishing your sentence before you walked off, leaving her to order more drinks.

Outside, you found her again, leaning against the wall, cigarette between fingers, smoke curling out of her mouth. You watched her for a moment, letting your eyes linger on the way her lips pursed, the clinging silk blouse, the long fingers brought to her mouth then away again.

“You’re staring,” she said.

“You’re beautiful,” you replied, then immediately worried you’d been too bold.

She turned to look at you, looking less than impressed at your answer. You clasped your hands together behind your back, not wanting her to see you fidgeting. You swallowed past the lump in your throat.

“I’m sorry about her,” you said, “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Many do,” she said.

“Billie,” you breathed out, stepping closer to her until the scent of her cigarette wrapped around you, “I don’t. I think there’s plenty out there we can’t explain and who am I to say if ghosts exist. What I do know is that I’ve been thinking about you since we met.”

She softened, turning her body towards you. You reached out, fingers brushing over the back of her hand. She stubbed her cigarette out on the wall, dropping it into the bin just behind you. In one motion, she curled her arm around your waist, pulling you closer until your body brushed against hers.

“And what have you been thinking when you think about me?” she asked.

“About how you taste,” you groaned.

She grasped your chin, acrylics digging in to the skin of your cheeks. She pulled you forward, breath ghosting over your lips. You finally let yourself whimper. Her smile stretched.

“How can I deny you, sweet girl?” she murmured.

Her lips brushed against yours, tantalising, almost teasing, barely there but making your heart pound and your knees grow weak. Your hands slid along her hips, wanting to pull her closer, wanting to feel her body against yours. She drew back, her hand still holding your chin, keeping you from leaning towards her again.

“How was that?” she asked.

You shook your head, trying to dip back in. She held you tight enough to make you whine, refusing to give you what you wanted.

“Use your words, sweet girl,” she said.

“More,” you whined, “I want more.”

The door to the bar opened, the chatter from inside leaking out. She looked over your shoulder at the couple leaving, a blank mask falling over her face. Dragging her eyes back to you, she softened again.

“Let me take you home, sweet girl,” she said, “say I can have you for the rest of the night.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “you can have me as long as you want.”

“Careful or I might just end up keeping your forever,” she warned.

You were finding it hard to see that as a bad thing.

She called for a car, keeping one hand on your body, thumb stroking over skin until you were a trembling mess. In the back seat of the car, her hand was slow as it slid up your thigh, keeping up a conversation with the driver, practically ignoring you. You were biting down on your lip, trying to keep silent. Her eyes flashed over to you, glittering when she noticed your struggle. Her thumb passed so close to your heat if you’d shifted your hips just an inch, she could have been touching your panty covered core. Even with the material in the way, you were sure she’d be able to feel how wet you were.

The car pulled up outside a nice home, two stories and large enough for a family to live in. Billie held the door open for you to slide out, her hand settling on the small of your back, leading you up the porch. She pushed the door open, waiting for you to step inside.

“Would you like a drink, sweet girl?” she asked, closing the door.

You’d been expecting her to be on you the moment the door was closed, but instead all she did was trail her fingers along your shoulders before leaving you be. You followed behind, disappoint curling in your gut. Your eyes drifted down to her swaying hips, skirt only accentuating her figure.

She flicked on the light in her kitchen, a wide wall of windows staring back. You followed, not sure what else to do. Reaching above her head, she pulled down a wine glass, only one, before turning back towards you. Her eyes swept over you, from head to toe, smile curling up one corner of her lips.

“You didn’t answer,” she said.

“No.” You shook your head, “I think if I have any more you’ll be taking advantage of me.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” she replied.

She poured herself a glass of white wine, pulled straight from her fridge. She took a sip from it, watching you as she did. Her tongue dragged along her lower lip, catching a drop of stray wine. You made a small noise, her smirk only growing.

“Billie,” you whined, your self respect long since gone. All you wanted was her hands on your bare skin, not this waiting game she was forcing you to play.

“Yes, sweet girl?” she asked.

“Please,” you begged, “I need you.”

“Do you?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yes.”

She placed her glass of wine down before taking a step towards you. With strong hands, she lifted you onto the counter, stepped between your parted legs. Her hands were sliding up the skin of your thigh, making you shiver.

“How’s this?” she asked.

“Uh huh,” you replied, beyond words just from her touch.

Her nose skimmed along your jaw, making your breath hitch. Your legs tightened around her, pinning her there as you whimpered. Her lips were soft as they pressed to your skin, head falling back to give her more access. Her tongue flicked out, tasting you with a soft hum. Your fingers clenched around the edge of the marble countertop, breath already ragged.

Her nails scraped along your skin, pushing up underneath your dress. You would have torn it from your body if she asked, uncaring of anything but giving her more access to you. Her teeth scraped along your skin before sinking in just enough for the sting to be pleasurable. Tongue swiping over it, you could feel her smile against your throat at the strangled noise you made. The way she sucked on your pulse point had your head growing fuzzy.

Your hands found their home on her shoulders, fingers curling as you tried to haul her closer. The throbbing between your legs was insistent but ignored by her. You wanted to reel her in, press against her, rub yourself against her like an animal. Her nails were scraping along your skin, drawing patterns on your skin in a way that had you shivering.

“Billie,” you gasped out, “please.”

“Sorry, sweet girl,” she murmured against your skin, “I can’t get enough of your taste.”

Her tongue swirled again, her soft sigh making you burn. Your fingers curled in her hair, tugging until you were leaning towards her, breath ghosting over her skin. She looked up from under eyelashes, coquettish and innocent, undone by the twist of her lips.

You kissed her, no longer just a brush of lips, all innocence gone. You groaned into her mouth, fingers tightening on blonde curls, tongue licking into her mouth. She allowed you, nails digging into your skin as you did your best to taste her, to explore, to delve deeper until you couldn’t remember what it was to not be kissing her. The taste of wine and cigarettes lingered on her tongue, something sweeter and deeper underneath.

You moaned, chasing her taste, wanting to burn it into your brain until nothing else remained. She was forcing your legs further apart, fingers on your inner thighs, stroking closer and closer to your heated core. She chuckled into your mouth when you whined, hips shifting, trying to urge her on.

Desperate lips trailed down your neck again, nipping at skin. Your fingers, still buried in her hair, clenched, pressing her closer, your pleas ignored as she took her time. Her teeth sunk in as her index finger ghosted over your centre. The noise that came from you had your cheeks heating before your embarrassment was washed away by the need for her touch.

Her finger stroked over you again, still over the top of your underwear. She was sucking another bruise onto your skin, her teeth and her tongue only making you desperate for more. Her finger pressed down, finding your clit through your panties. Her name was a strangled noise, back arching towards her.

“You’re so wet, sweet girl,” she said, “god, you’ve soaked right through.”

You whimpered as she continued to circle it, tortuously slow. She pulled back, eyes sweeping over your face, watching you. Her other hand slipped from under your dress, soft as it drifted up your body. You arched into her touch when she found your breast, begging her for more. She ignored you, hand continuing up until fingers rested on your throat, thumb stroking over the point she’d been sucking on before.

“Do you know how pretty you are?” she asked you, those dark eyes smouldering up at you, “you make such lovely noises for me.”

“Billie,” you whimpered, “Billie please.”

“I like when you beg, sweet girl,” she said, “do it again.”

“Please,” you whined.

“Good girl.”

That only made you tremble, heat coursing through you. From her delighted smile, she seemed to realise the effect her words had on you. Her fingers pushed aside your underwear, fingers swiping through your folds. The sound that came from you was high pitched, hips bucking up against her touch.

The hand around your throat tightened, for just a moment, long enough to make fire burn through you. She tugged you forward, kissing you, teeth sinking into your lower lip. You were aching for her, needing her more than you’d needed anyone before.

Fingers were slow to circle your clit, as if testing how far she could push you before she drove you insane. She drew back, watching you as your chest heaved, skin heating, eyes begging her for more. Lips pulled up into a smirk, the older woman slowing her movements until you felt tears prick in your eyes.

“You’re so pretty for me,” she said, “look how responsive you are. Such a good girl.”

“Billie,” you whined.

“I could watch you like this for hours,” she said.

“Please,” you begged, “please, Billie, I need-“

Her thumb ground against your clit, your words breaking off into a strangled moan. Her delight was enough to let you know you would be given no easy release. You tugged on her hair.

“Do you enjoy that, sweet girl?” she asked, so innocent, as if she wasn’t watching you fall apart in front of her.

Her thumb slipped from your clit, leaving you with the slow circling again, tortuous and maddening. You let out a shaky breath, fingers tightening in her blonde curls.

“I bet you taste sweet,” she murmured, “will you let me taste you, sweet girl?”

“Yes,” you babbled, “please. Oh god, please, Billie. I need you.”

Her hand slipped from your throbbing cunt, making you whine in protest. The hand resting around your throat slid down. Both tugged on the hem of your dress, dragging it up your body. You let her pull it from your body, flinging it aside as her eyes roved over your bare skin and lacy lingerie.

“Who did you wear these pretty things for, sweet girl?” she asked, finger running along the lace of your bra, “was there someone you were hoping would see these?”

“No,” you replied, feeling breathless.

“Don’t lie to me, sweet girl,” she warned.

Her dark eyes met yours and you could see it, swimming in her eyes, no matter how she was trying to hide it. The jealousy. The anger. The thought you’d dressed up for anyone but her. A sense of power flooded your body. To have such an effect on her, to make her feel that way, it was mind blowing for you.

“No one but you,” you said, tugging her closer, “I’ve been thinking of no one else since I met you.”

“You say such lovely things,” she said.

Her hands cupped your breasts, thumbs swiping over your nipples. Your breath stuttered and she lent down, lips ghosting along your skin. Her tongue dipped into the divot between your collarbones, stealing both your breath and your sanity. You moaned her name, arching towards her mouth.

Sliding her hands around your ribs, she unhooked your bra. Her lips continued down before wrapping around one nipple. Your mouth fell open around a silent moan. She wasn’t soft, her sharp suck making you tighten your fingers in her hair. Her tongue flicked over it, making you arch into her, asking for more.

Her nails scraped over your skin, down over your ribs, past the dip of your waist, over the curve of your hips. They hooked into your underwear, pulling them off you. Down your legs and flung aside, you did your best to help her, wanting that tongue where your throbbing heat was.

Lips trailed down your body, leaving your nipples behind despite your whimper. She took her time, lingering on every inch of skin she found. Her tongue would smooth over where her teeth scraped, heat following in her wake. You sighed at the first swipe of it through your folds. Your head fell back, fingers tightening in her hair. She hummed, pressing closer, tongue teasing your entrance.

She wrapped her lips around your clit, tongue flicking over it, then again when you moaned her name. It wasn’t going to take much, not from the way she’d been teasing you all night. And not from the way you’d been fantasising about her all week. The reality was much better than you could have imagined.

And in your imagination she’d been spectacular.

You gasped her name when she began to suck on your bundle of nerves, her hands pushing your legs even further apart. Spread out on her kitchen counter, face buried between your legs, feasting on you, it was as if all your dreams were coming true. She moaned, the vibrations rocketing through your body. Her name was a prayer on your lips and felt yourself coming apart. Her dark eyes looked up your body, catching yours and the way she was watching was like you were fulfilling all of her fantasies too.

The flat of her tongue pressed against your clit. You were writhing under her touch, begging her for release. Her fingers tightened on your thighs until you were sure she’d be leaving bruises for you to find the next day. She moaned again and it was enough.

If you were asked about it, you wouldn’t say you screamed her name, fingers tightening in her hair until you were pulling it. But you did. And she looked like the cat that got the cream because of it.

She cleaned you up with her tongue before she lent back, staring up at you, lips smirking. You pulled her up, kissing her with the kind of abandon you hadn’t let yourself have earlier. She chuckled into your mouth until your legs were tightening around her and your hands were sliding down her body and she began to moan.

“I want to touch you,” you murmured into her mouth, “please let me touch you.”

“I really can’t deny you anything,” she replied, pulling back, “perhaps somewhere comfortable though? I don’t bounce back like I once did.”

Her hand slipped into yours, helping you off the counter. Her eyes trailed over your body for a moment, appreciation filling her face as she took her time studying you. You flushed under her gaze, surprised by how much you liked her looking at you. Where usually you didn’t languish in nudity, the way she was staring made you feel powerful, desirable, stupidly sexy.

She led you further into the house, up the stairs, into a plush bedroom. The carpet underfoot was soft and the bed was huge. She sat on the edge of it, pulling you forward until you were stood between her legs. Leaning down, you threaded your fingers through her hair again, tilting her head up and kissing her until you felt her begin to relax.

You climbed onto her lap, knees either side of her hips. She hummed into your mouth, fingers trailing over your skin until the fire within you reignited. You pushed her back, feeling more than hearing the way she laughed against your lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, drawing back to look down at her.

Her eyes brightened and there was a faint flush on her cheeks. Your fingers were careful as you began to unbutton her blouse, exposing tantalising inches of skin to your hungry gaze. Your tongue dragged along your bottom lip as you watched the silk slip from her shoulders. She pulled you down into another kiss, hot and insistent.

Your hands were gentle, fingertips trailing along her skin. It was so soft, and it only made you want more of her. With your tongue in her mouth, you reached behind her, unclasping the bra, pulling it from her body. You trailed your lips down, taking your time to worship every inch you came into contact with. Her fingers found their way into your hair, pressing you closer. You slid down her body, needing a better angle if you were to make her moan your name.

Your tongue tasted her skin, swirling over a nipple, smiling when you felt her arch up towards you. She murmured praise, practically a sigh. Your hands reached for her skirt, slow to unzip it and push it over her hips. She kicked it away before your hand ran up the outside of her thigh. You could feel her warmth practically radiating towards you.

“I can’t get enough of you,” you murmured into her skin.

“You feel so good, sweet girl,” she gasped when your lips made contact with her again.

You pushed her panties aside, slow to touch her, wanting to draw it out as long as possible. If you gave in too quickly you’d take too much. You wanted her falling apart, the way you had, until your name was burned on her tongue.

You collected her wetness, running a finger through her folds. Her breathing stuttered, chest heaving against your mouth. You circled her clit, slow as you lent back, watching her face contort in pleasure. Her lips were smiling, eyes fluttering shut. Your hand slipped down again, finger hovering at her entrance. She looked up at you again.

“Can I?” you asked.

“If you don’t, I’ll be sorely disappointed,” she replied, voice husky.

You smiled down at her, spread out beneath you. With strong hand you tore her underwear off, biting down on her pulse point. Your fingers found her entrance again, lingering just a moment before you pushed in, her arousal making it easier than you would have thought. A soft sigh fell through parted lips and her eyelids fluttered shut again.

Slowly pumping in and out of her you waited until her annoyed gaze found you again. You grinned, pressing a second finger in. You curled them and your name was nothing but a filthy moan on her lips.

You stroked her, thumb finding her clit again. She was writing under your touch, hips rocking against your hand, small noises coming from her. Her hands were fisting her comforter and there was a flush over her chest.

You watched her fall apart beneath you. Her internal walls clamped down on your fingers, your name a breathless sigh, fingers tightening, body going still. You eased her through it, drawing it out as long as you could. Her muscles relaxed, looking up at you with a sleepy smile. You removed your hands from between her legs, tongue lapping at your fingers, tasting her on your skin.

Her eyes began to smoulder, looking up at you. With grasping hands she pulled you down, unbalancing you until both your hands landed either side of her head, catching your weight before you crushed her. She drew you down into a kiss, stealing your breath, sending your head reeling all over again.

“You’re a dream, sweet girl,” she murmured against your lips, “I’m never letting you go.”

You kissed her again before rolling off her, sitting on her plush comforter. Her fingers trailed up your bare thigh, making you shiver under her touch.

“Are you tired?” she asked, voice low, like a whisper caressing over your skin.

“No,” you replied.

“Then let me wear you out, sweet girl.”

When you woke in the morning, the bed was empty, still warm under your touch and more comfortable than the twin bed you’d been sleeping in for the last few months. You sat up, stretching your aching body before brushing the sleep from your eyes. The slant of light said it was late morning. Unsurprising, given Billie had kept you up until the early hours of the morning. The scent of coffee was on the air and you smiled, hearing someone moving downside.

You hunted through the room, finding a soft cashmere sweater. Pulling it on, it hit mid thigh, just enough to cover you but not enough to not be tempting to the insatiable woman. On bare feet you padded down the stairs. Rounding the banister, following your nose, you practically skipped into the kitchen.

You stumbled to a halt, finding a familiar face staring back at you, eyes widening in surprise. Billie turned in her seat, lips quirking up into a smile as her eyes swept over your body.

“Mom?”

You felt your face heat up, taking a step back. She was sitting at the kitchen island, the exact island you’d been sitting on, naked, just a few hours before.

“Darling, what are you doing here?” she asked, “did you spend the night here?”

“Uh…” You looked to Billie, not sure how to answer, “yeah I did.”

“I hope you didn’t bother Billie. She was meant to meet me this morning but when she didn’t show up I had to come hunt her down,” she said.

“She was no bother,” Billie replied, smiling at you over the rim of her coffee cup.

“I thought I was interrupting you after a wild night of passion,” your mother laughed, “with all those clothes scattered around your kitchen.”

“I should… go,” you said, not wanting to think about Billie telling your mother about your night with her.

Only your clothes were bundled up on the counter and you had no way of getting them without making it clear Billie’s night of passion had included you.

“You didn’t interrupt them, did you darling?” she asked, a tinkling laugh tacked on to the end.

“Hardly,” Billie replied.

Your mother was smiling at you and you were frozen and Billie was being no help. You stared helplessly back before your mother’s eyes darted to Billie then the pile of clothes then back to you. You held your breath.

“Darling, you didn’t,” she sighed.

“I… It wasn’t…” You didn’t know how to even begin to end those sentences.

“It appears as if we’ve been busted,” Billie said.

She stood from her barstool, sauntering towards you. Looping an arm around your waist, she pulled you into her body, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. It was so tender, nothing like the seduction you’d experienced the night before. Still, you shivered, her touch enough to set you off.

“If you were jealous of me having a friend there were more productive ways of going about getting my attention,” your mother said, interrupting your moment.

“What?” You looked over to her.

“We could have just had a conversation, darling,” she said.

“You think I…” It was hard to wrap your head around, “do you seriously think I slept with Billie to get your attention?”

“What other possible reason could you have?” she asked.

You felt Billie stiffen against you. You curled your arm around her, wanting to shield her from your mother’s accusations. Glaring at her, you hardened.

“Maybe because I wanted to. God, Mom, not everything is about you,” you said.

“Alright, I’ll play along with your little fantasy,” she said, giving you one of those indulgent smiles you remembered from childhood, “but darling, until you choose to grow up and act like an adult, not everyone is going to be so forgiving.”

“I think you should go,” you said, voice hardening.

“Why on earth would I do that, darling?” she asked.

“Because I’m hoping Billie will fuck me over the top of that counter your sitting at and it’ll be a little awkward if you’re still here when she does,” you replied.

Your mother’s face blanched of colour and she was quick to climb to her feet, muttering something about another meeting she had to get to as she hustled out of there. Billie didn’t bother saying anything, only watching her leave as you kept her close to you. The door slammed behind her retreating back.

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” she murmured.

“Do what?” you asked, looking down at her, “I’m free all day and would quite like it if you fucked me on every available surface in this house.”

She kissed you, long and deep, laughing into your mouth. You pulled her closer, your hands finding her hips as you guided her into the kitchen, pressing her against the kitchen island.

“If you do, I’ll return the favour,” you said.

“You don’t have to convince me,” she murmured, “I’d do anything you asked of me, sweet girl.”

And so she did.

#billie dean howard x reader #billie dean howard imagine #billie dean howard #ahs imagine

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muddyorbsblr · 5 months ago

Text

a proper fit

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: married era; a week after 'come on, england'

Summary: You return to the Soccer Aid training grounds to prep for this year's game and promotional events, having to spend a day away from your husband.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Brynne (blech this bitch is back); language; steamy married blorbos moments [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: yearning married babeys in the first scene; shifting POVs

The briefing room was already filled with the sounds of reunions and multiple conversations of catching up when you walked through the doors. Before you walked in further in to the commotion, you whipped out your phone, shooting off a text to Tom.

I'm at the training grounds. Looks a bit fancier than last year.

Before you could even make it two steps into the room, your phone sounded with a new message.

I know you've only been away two hours tops, but I already miss you terribly.

You had to take a breath, doing your best to not let your shoulders slump. Was it crazy that after nearly a decade together, you two still behaved like this whenever you had to be apart? To most people, definitely. But you and Tom weren't most people, and reading that text had you instinctively running your thumb along the rings on your left hand.

I miss you, too, sweetie. I know we'll see each other tomorrow but sleeping alone tonight is gonna fucking suck.

Right as you were about to put your phone away, one more message came through from your husband, making you pause again and take a moment to compose yourself before you started acting like a giddy teenage girl. Already counting the hours, goddess. Though I suspect we won't be getting much sleep tomorrow night, either. With a goddamn smirking emoji at the end.

"Ohh my god, Y/N!" A smile pulled at your face catching sight of the owner of the voice. Lilly, waving frantically next to Simone, your roommates for a day last year. They pulled you into a hug the second you made your way over to them, already asking questions on what life had been like for the last year.

"I was looking for your name in the credits for the second season of Loki but I couldn't find it, what happened? You didn't come back for--"

"Ohh no I'm there," you answered Simone. "It's just my name doesn't display on there as Y/N Y/L/N anymore, but Y/N H."

"Hang on a bloody second there, sweetie are you saying--"

"Wait no, why did you print a player name on a staff badge?" you heard Johanna question one of the other staff members at the registration table. "Find a blank one we'll just have to write hers down by hand."

You had a feeling you knew which name she was pertaining to. Yours. But before you could make your way over to the table and clear it up yourself, another voice called for your attention. Bitched for it, actually.

"Well well, Y/L/N, shoulda known you were going to be here again this year. We all know by now that you're so paranoid you have to tail your boyfriend everywhere he bloody goes. Tell me, do you follow him to the loo as well?"

Ohh this is gonna be particularly delicious, you thought to yourself as you turned around to face Brynne with the widest most plastic looking smile you could muster up. "And hello to you, too, Brynne."

"What do you mean which player name, it's glaringly obvious which one. That one. The one with 'Hiddleston' printed on it. He's a player, not staff, dearie."

Lilly and Simone audibly gasped hearing Johanna's words before you kept answering back to Brynne. "Let me correct you right now, so you don't get it confused for the rest of the week. First, it's not boyfriend, it's husband." Her snarky smile dropped at the word. "And second, you may call me Mrs Hiddleston." Right as her jaw dropped, you turned around to call out to Johanna, "That's not a mistake! That's mine."

A wide grin spread across the older woman's face at the new information. "So Tom finally put a ring on you, huh?" She gave you a brief hug when you made your way to the table. "Congratulations, dear."

"Multiple rings, actually," you clarified, Lilly and Simone joining in to look over the pieces of jewelry on your hands that were definitely not there last year. You pointed at the heart-shaped amethyst on your right middle finger. "He gave me this one two years ago, but…the reason I wasn't wearing it last time y'all saw me is a long winded story for another day." They all pouted from your cutting the story short before it even began. "Or maybe later tonight when we're all done for the day."

"I'll have to remember to stop by your room later because this is not something I'd want to miss," Johanna said with a giggle, pointing over at your left hand. "Hang on, dear. Is that that ring I've been seeing people getting into tiffs over in the forums?"

"Ohh the Darry ring? Yeah, we got matching sets for our engagement and our wedding rings. Signed off each of our one and only transaction with them." Your smile grew wider looking at the stacked rings on your left ring finger. "They're not gonna hear any complaints from us about not being able to make another purchase down the line, we're sure. We've had more than half a decade to be sure."

"Well then, shall I hand you over your husband's room key, then?" She rifled through a booklet containing the key cards to the players' rooms, taking two out and handing them over to you. "I had an extra made for you already when you agreed to come back this year and help out."

There was a spring in Tom's step the closer he got to the entryway for the training grounds, the weight sitting heavy in his heart since you left the house last night already lifting knowing that just behind those massive double doors, you were somewhere inside. And you would be back in his arms in a few short minutes. Even if it was just for a short while until you two properly reunited later tonight.

He wouldn't admit it out loud, but his anticipation of seeing you again had him a touch out of focus with the initial arrival interview for the players that he opted to instead tag along with one of the other players on the England team so he could bounce his answers off of them. He wasn't even sure if he spoke a full coherent sentence in that interview.

All he knew for sure was that as soon as the interviewer thanked them for their time he was off to walk through the main entrance. With the singular objective of finding you.

It wasn't long until he crossed paths with the woman in charge of the committee last year, and from the looks of it, this year as well. "Tom! You're here early we all expected the players to be spending some time out in the field, getting a lay of the land, just leaving their luggage here to be brought to their rooms later. Getting your uniforms?"

"Right right…" he mumbled, feeling a bit sheepish now that he was getting a firm grasp on how disoriented he truly had been for the past day. "I was hoping to see Y/N though before I got started on all that--"

"Oh, say no more, dearie. She's in the main ballroom, I believe. Been lending a hand to most anyone that needs it so they can all collectively finish with the day's tasks sooner. She's been blazing through her assignments since she got here. Seems she's motivated to have every bit of free time she can manage." The elder woman gave him a knowing smile, pointing at the hallway leading to the ballroom in question. "I also took the liberty of giving your wife the keycards to your room. Oh, and before I forget, congratulations. You two make an impeccable pair."

Tom couldn't help the grin that stretched across his face. He never could whenever anyone at all referred to you as his wife. Even more so when he or anyone else would refer to himself as your husband. Much as it had been a long and winding road to finally get to where you two were now, he wouldn't change a single day.

He made sure to utter a 'thank you' toward Johanna before taking off down the hall, walking much faster than he usually did, his heart already beating faster when he could already pick up your voice in the flurry of the conversation going on inside. You were all talking about the complimentary Theraguns being given to the players. He couldn't prevent the chuckle that escaped him when he heard you talking about how you two had already driven one to the ground and were well on your way to bringing that count up to two with how often either of you had needed it over the years. And how it was good that now you already had a third one on standby.

The young man standing guard outside the ballroom straightened his stance immediately once he clocked Tom approaching. "Oh…I'm really sorry, Mr. Hiddleston, but players generally aren't allowed in this area."

"That's quite alright, I actually just stopped by to see if I could steal Y/N away? I was told she's here assisting."

"Oh…certainly, Sir. I'll go ahead and call for her now."

"God these smell so good!" Simone sighed, taking a sniff of the luxury bath products that you two were placing into the self-care packages that the players would receive later tonight. "I hope we end up having a bit of surplus."

"Well if we do, just ask Johanna nicely I'm sure she'll be happy to give away whatever's left," you told her, taking a sniff for yourself and couldn't help but break out into a grin when the scent that hit you resembled Tom's cologne.

Before she could ask you what had you in such lighter spirits, another one of the staff members, Allen, called out into the room. "Hiddleston!"

It took you a second before you processed that he was calling for you. Still haven't gotten used to that, you silently tsk'd yourself. "Oop, that's me. What's up?"

"God rub it in a little more, why don't you? I don't think the rats in the walls know yet," you heard Brynne grumble from her corner of the ballroom.

You tried to fight the urge to sass her back. But you weren't that evolved. Not yet. And for people like her, maybe not ever. "What was that? There's rats in the walls?" you said loudly, visibly startling the redhead. She glared at you, pursing her lips before returning to her task, and you turned back to address Allen. "So…what's up?"

"There's someone here for you." You had to fight back a squeal when he opened the door wider and revealed your husband on the other side, an ear to ear grin on his face when your eyes met. The urge to run across the room and straight into his arms, however, was a fight that you lost all too quickly. He dropped his duffle bag when you got close so he could wrap his arms around you and lift you into the air once you closed the distance.

"You're here early," you said, giggling when he pressed his lips to yours. "We weren't expecting the players inside until later tonight."

"I couldn't wait that long to see you again, sweetheart." He gave you a kiss on the cheek before setting you back down on your feet, raising a hand to wave at your friends who were now swooning from watching you two reunite. "When the other guys mentioned someone else's name at the desk for claiming our uniforms I set off to find you."

"Ohh…right. They didn't assign me for that this year since I'm not the new girl anymore. Gave the girl assigned there my little hand fan though. Hopefully it helped."

"Yeah there's nothing new about you, old boring bitch," Brynne grumbled again. You could feel Tom tense up as he held you, no doubt seeing how your entire mood shifted once you heard her words.

You took a deep breath, letting your voice settle into its natural timbre that you seldom used anymore. Outside your home, that is. "Sorry Brynne, but you're gonna have to speak up a bit." She flinched in her spot, eyes widened as she looked up at you, so obviously indignant that you called her out for the second time in the last few minutes. "You know, since my old boring ears can't really hear you all that well."

"Fuck dammit you heard--It's-it's nothing, Y/N, I wasn't saying anything--"

"You don't get to call me that," you cut her off, making her neck twitch more erratically the more your voice settled into its natural state. "You don't get to disrespect me at every turn since the day you met me a whole ass year ago and get away with calling me by the same name my friends and family get to call me. Now…you seem to be confused again, Brynne. Would you like me to remind you what you may call me?"

Her nostrils flared as she shook, the embarrassment and the indignation of having to address you 'properly' rolling off her in waves. "No. No you don't. It won't happen again--" She sucked her teeth audibly, making it increasingly obvious she had such a visceral reaction to even uttering her next words. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Hiddleston."

You slowly looked her over, a tiny sadistic part of you struggling not to smirk seeing her fidget in place while waiting for your response. After a few seconds you gave a bored shrug. "Your fake sincerity needs work, Saunderson. But I'll let it slide. For the last time."

All the other staff members in the ballroom had their jaws on the ground at what they just witnessed, most of them looking silently satisfied that the audacious woman was finally put in her place and finally chose to face off against someone that returned the energy that she was putting out tenfold. Lilly and Simone broke the silence clapping and whooping for you, the rest joining in slowly.

You gave them all a little salute before turning back to face Tom, lacing your fingers through his. The two of you walked toward the claiming room for the uniforms but barely made it halfway down the hall before he led you into a narrow corridor off to the side, pressing you against the wall and slanting his mouth over yours.

He threaded his fingers through your hair, groaning into your mouth as your tongues met.

"You know what that voice does to me, goddess," he groaned the second he pulled away and his lips latched on to the crook of your neck. "I've missed you." He rested his forehead against yours, trying to steady his breathing, his hand firmly grasping your thigh as your leg wrapped around his. "Do you have any other tasks before the training proper starts?"

"I don't," you breathed out, crossing your hands behind his neck to pull him into another kiss. "I finished everything Johanna sent my way from this morning."

"Then I very much want you to come with me to claim my uniforms."

"Say less, sweetie." You let out a giggle as he stole another kiss before setting your leg down and threading your fingers together so you could lead him to the claiming area for the players' uniforms.

When you walked through the door, the girl assigned to your task last year, Penny, looked visibly flustered once she caught sight of Tom. "O-Ohh…Mr and Mrs Hiddleston--" She started scrambling at the packages, not clocking the way you and your husband looked at each other, giving each other a tiny smirk at how you two were addressed now.

You indulged yourself in reminiscing on how you and Tom were around this time last year, keeping things so private that his fellow players and your fellow staff members knew nothing about your relationship. And your husband making a whole show of trying on the uniforms that you registered one size too small, with him giving you a damn near striptease almost exactly where the two of you stood right now.

"Here we are…" Penny trailed off, fishing a parcel out of the pile of uniforms with a "6" drawn on with a wide marker. "We got some changing areas outside if you want to make sure your training jerseys fit alright."

"Oh wow they actually have proper changing rooms this year," you chuckled, pointing over to the corner of the room. "Last year they just had a curtain in the corner over there."

Tom approached the table, ready to sign. "There's no need to try them on, I trust my wife inputted the right size this year." He gave you a playful pointed look, which in turn had you giving him a small pout.

"I put medium this year, sweetie, I promise."

"Hold on…last year's--?"

"I put Small on his registration form last year," you answered Penny, her jaw dropping to the ground as she made her way around the table to shake your hand vigorously.

"Thank you for your service," she said with a hushed tone. "The group chat went wild last year over those pictures."

"I'll do it again in a heartbeat when I get the chance," you whispered back conspiratorially, giving the young girl a little wink.

"I can hear you, sweetheart."

"Next time I'm not gonna bother pretending it was a mistake, though." You scrunched your nose at your husband when he turned around to face you again. He took your hand in his and led you out the room, both of you shooting a 'thank you' Penny's way before exiting the room.

What you didn't expect for him to do next was lead you into one of the designated changing areas, his expression full of more than transparent intent. Especially when he locked the door and started untucking his shirt from his pants at a deliberately slow pace. He kept his gaze locked on you as he approached you, making you so weak in the knees that you had to prop yourself against the wall just to stay upright.

"Sweetie…what're you doing?"

Once he closed the distance, he crowded you, working his thigh between your legs and capturing your lips in a tender but heated kiss that stole your breath away. "I need to change and get ready for training, sweetheart," he said softly, murmuring against your lips as he guided your hand to the buttons of his shirt. "And even though we'll see each other again for much longer later tonight, I've very much missed my wife's touch."

You took in a shaky breath, letting out a whimper when he slid his free hand underneath your shirt. "I missed you, too," you whispered, both of you smiling into the kiss when you began to undo the buttons of his shirt.

Later that night, you left the dining hall long before dinner was finished, readying your room for when Tom would get there. You barely had enough time to transfer the welcome package from the bed to the table and change into a sleeveless nightgown before you heard the door unlock. He scanned the room, a lustful knowing grin on his face when he caught sight of you, eyes darkening as they hungrily roamed your body covered by the luxe satin fabric.

"Hi. I'm Y/N I'll be your roommate for the week," you told him, letting out a stream of giggles when he made his way to you and lifted you by the backs of your thighs.

"I didn't realize the players were to be assigned a roommate," he said playfully, wasting no time and kissing along the neckline of your nightgown.

"Some budget cuts had to be made," you joked, squealing when your back hit the bed with a soft thud and your husband now hovered over you, giving you a little smirk before proceeding to kiss his way down your neck.

He worked his hands underneath your nightgown, groaning into your skin as he grasped at your legs for a moment before working the fabric up and off your body. "You should know by now, goddess, that there are rules you must adhere to if you're going to room with me." He let out a contented sigh once he completely removed the garment off of you, baring your body to him. "No clothing," he rasped, his eyes not leaving yours as he whipped his own jersey up and over his head before sliding his arm under you and lifting you off the mattress, pressing your chests together. "I don't want any barriers between us."

Your joint moans filled the room as you kissed each other in a desperate, starved tangle of lips and tongues. Like you were separated for months. He shuffled his shorts down his legs until he could kick them off of him and wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to the shower.

And you both knew that as much as it sucked being apart even for the shortest, fleeting amount of time, oh how delicious it was when you both were finally home with each other again.

A/N: There's a whole bunch of stories that are banging the walls for my attention but I honestly can't help it, OLTK blorbos keep getting a hold of me 😂 I'm gonna try and cool it with these two though and work on some other projects…starting with…

OOP-- 😳👀

Also I had to fade to black their steamy moments here because honestly if I didn't it'd have taken longer to get this done 🥴🫡

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #one look & they'll know #muddyorbs writes

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justjams2003 · 4 months ago

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The Saltiness of Flesh- 2

Pairing: 1968!Elvis Presley x fem!reader

Summary: After Elvis' divorce fell through and the constant non-stop touring, he finally gets a moment alone on the beach. He finds a doll, shy and almost stand-offish and things suddenly bloom between them.

Warnings: Absolutely no hate to Priscilla, I love her so much, she is mother <3 In this story, they got engaged but broke up before they got married. Barely legal reader, flirting, talk of brattiness, spanking, manual drive (I know that sacres Americans) I would say grooming but she's 18 so not? 14-year age gap. Talk of being middle-class.

Word count: 2,2k+ unedited

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @luvcsbn

Taglist: @marvelobsessed134 @atleastpleasetelephone @i5uckersblog @i-r-i-n-a-a

Part 1

You regret now not packing anything fancy for your trip, besides your church clothes. And now as you sit on the front porch of your grandpa’s old rusty beach house. You're starting to regret even more wearing said church clothes. Watching some of the girls pass by and suddenly feeling very frumpy. And even more girlies than you wanted, looking down at your white Mary-Jane heels.

And once again the terrible feeling of repentance comes over you when you see a car much fancier than you’ve seen back in Utah show up next to the little white fence. And that feeling gut punches you even worse when the handsome Mister Presley climbs out of the fancy car in a fancier, more expensive suit.

Blue like the sky and the sea and the birds and his eyes. And it makes his frame look so much bigger and his lips much poutier and oh no the sin has you. You’re quick to stand up when he opens the rickety fence and walks up to the steps. “I hope I didn’t keep you too long, little lady.” He speaks and makes your knees weak.

You can hear your mother scolding you for biting your lip. ‘Stop fidgeting!’ She echos in the back of your head and the teenager in you wants to groan. You shake your head no, lying since you’ve been ready since 9 o’clock this morning. Anxiety running laps around in your head. “Well, I’m glad.” His voice is even sweeter than you remember.

He reaches out for you. Taking your soft upper arm into his large hand, covered by the leather of the jacket he borrowed you. “You look mighty fine.” He says, those tantalizing blue eyes taking all of you in. You know you’re red by the way your face feels hot. “Oh, thanks, I-uh, didn’ exsactly plan a-uh date w’en I was packin’.” You mumble cursing your accent for making you sound like a true Utahn. Not cool.

“No, no,” he interrupts, shaking his head. His other hand is on his lips, as if he’s stopping himself from saying more than he really should. “This is, uh, this is just fine, youngin.” He speaks and when he has a Southern accent it makes you feel all gooey inside. “This is just fine...” He repeats, guiding you to his fancy car.

You feel out of place in between the expensive leather and millions of buttons that your grandpa’s old pickup truck doesn’t have. And you feel much smaller than you believe yourself to be when he sits down in the driver's seat. His thighs are spread out in that suit and he has the seat pushed back so far that he looks so comfortable to be driving.

“You can relax, youngin’, I promise you ain’t gon’ break nothin’. And hell if you do it ain’t the end of the world, I probably won’t even notice.” He assures you with this gentle smile. And you have to look up at him as if he is a god speaking his word down to you. You’ve been trained so well to listen to the man in church and you’re eager to be given a guide to follow.

“Okay, Mister Presley.” He groans and you can’t help but watch as his strong leg presses down on the clutch and changes gears. You’re half in awe when he so easily pushes down the car’s handbrake since you yourself can’t even get it down with two hands. Much to your own father’s disappointment.

“Don’t call me that either. You make me sound old like my father. I ain’t that old yet...” He says, shifting into second gear and driving down the roads of California. “I’m sorry, Elvis...how old are yah anyways?” He stiffens slightly and now you’re kicking yourself. Again your mother screams in the back of your head for your manners.

He grips the steering wheel and you're quick to mutter an apology. His eyes go wide and he shakes his head. Elvis’ hand is suddenly on your thigh when he comforts you. “No need to apologize, little one. I’m uh, 32.” Now you’re glad your birthday is so early in the year.

His eyes give a worried glance over to you, his brows pluck together, and then back to the road. “I hope that’s not too old for yah?” You bite your lip and can feel the poke of skin against your tongue. “No, no, we’re uh, both adults ‘ere.” This does make him smile. “Good...good...”

Then it’s silent between you two, you’re painfully aware of how much bigger his hand is on your thigh. “How’re you experiencin’ California so far?” You’re quick to answer this, having thought of it plenty. “It’s cold.” This does cause him to chuckle. “It’s summer, sweet thang.” You shrug your shoulders simply.

“That’s why I didn’ pack any jackets. It’s much hotter back home and I miss that...and the food. Grandpa has been feedin' me nothin’ but the fish he caught...since I couldn’t catch anythin’.” Your mother’s voice echoes again, ‘Stop rambling!’ You look away, blushing. “I’m sorry, I’m ramblin’.” Again he smiles, shaking his head.

“No, no, it’s alright, darlin’. I like listenin’ to yah speak.” He explains, then turns his signal on. “If you’re tired o’ fish, I’ll take yah to the best burger place I know.” You can’t help but smile, the thought sounds fantastic. A nice big, juicy, messy burger.

A cute diner, classic sixties. Red and white stripes with checkered black and white floors. The doorbell rings, and everyone raises their head. Inspecting him, there is no air to breathe here because all must be spared for him and only him. A clumsy waiter, with weak knees stumbles towards the two. “H-hi, Mr Presley, I'm uh, Stacy, I'll be your waiter today.”

Her brows pluck together, but not Stacy’s, no, she's far too excited to ever be worried to ever be confused. And as the red plastic cushion caves under the weight of the superstar, the furrow stays. “What's got yah all confused, yittle one?” His voice seems to smooth the sharp plastic poking in her back. “Does everyone but me know who you are?”

A hearty chuckle, one that somehow spans a smile on anyone nearby’s face. “I'm surprised you don't know, yittle one.” The plastic laminate of the tabletop suddenly seems very interesting. “This is my first time out o’ my farm.” He leans back, and the plastic squeaks. His thighs spread out across the tacky red, thick like a tree stump you could easily climb.

His arms rest on the back of the cushion seat. His first buttons open, shoving the curly hair on his chest. And he smirks, knowing that while the mind is innocent, the body easily wanders and gazes over. “That's alright, sweet thang. I like it like that.” Her head tilts to the side, his hips shift. “Why?”

Elvis shrugs his wide shoulders. “Means yah like me, and not what the idea of me.” He's sure she's able to hear his heartbeat, or maybe she can't because she doesn't say anything. Instead just looks away, at the beach not far from the diner. “Yah like the beach?”

He asks because he'll gladly move to the coast if that's what it has to take to have her. “I do…” Her answer is more forlorn and not really all there. “This is my first time seein’ it…I wish my mama and papa could've come wit’. I feel…lost here.” She's practically begging for a guiding hand like him. ”Lost?” Elvis asks as if he doesn’t know that it’s him she’s yearning for.

“This place ‘s so big and nobody really...sees you here.” She brings her hands forward, picking at the cuticle of her nail and he doesn’t like that. He too leans forward, small hands enveloped by much bigger ones. Chunky golden rings contrast against the delicacy of her soft hands. “I see you.” A small smile, one that doesn’t believe, plays on her features.

And then a shrug, “I feel you see me more than anyone else ever has...is that crazy to say to someone you just met?” He knows exactly what she means because when he looks at her he sees everything he’s always wanted. Everything that he can so easily make her to be. He knows deep down that she doesn’t want to work and she’s clearly far too shy for others.

He can tell it could so easily be just him for her. “Not at all.”

Nibble fingers pick at the small imperfections of rings too expensive to have imperfections. With jewels bigger than her fingernails and shinier than sunlight. “Yah like my rings, yittle one?” With a curt nod, he slides one off his finger and then onto hers. But it doesn’t fit, the ring is too big and just sort of hangs. “I’ll have one made for yah.”

Her eyes are quick to meet his, wide and shocked, and her eyelashes blink rapidly. “What?” Elvis’ iconic smirk shows. “Yah heard me.” Her jaw hangs slack, “You will not.” The same smirk stays. “An’ why not?” Her plump bottom lip gets captured between her teeth before being let go again when she speaks. “It’s too much.” There is no such thing as too much for Elvis Presley.

“Call it a gift.” Her eyes strangely avoid his, looking back down at the flashing gold. “Gifts like that mean somethin’ much more serious than uh summer fling.” He almost growls at the thought of her just being a mere blip in his life. No, she needs to be here and now and always. “An’ if I want somethin’ more than a summer fling?”

She sighs, letting go of his hands. She leans back against the plastic red cushion seat, her arms crossed. Suddenly the beach is once again much more interesting than he is. “It won’ work. I ain’t what yah want.” He doesn’t like this, this sudden defiance. He’s done no wrong. Only ever wanted to give her a gift and now she’s gone all pouty. Even denying him his right to see her pretty face.

“Stop bein’ such a brat about this. You’ll let me do this for yah and stop bein’ all pouty about it too.” What on earth is he doing to you? All cheeky quips and snappy returns fall from your body like a snake sheds. Revealing only a vulnerable little girl who squeezes her thighs together, his words making her feel...hot...

He does see, he does instantly see when she shifts in her seat and her ears go pink. Elvis knows well what this little squirm means, but it doesn’t seem like you do? “I’m not a brat.” He loves this, “Oh, yougin’, you’ve been all bratty since we met. Huffin’ and puffin’, rolling your eyes. I won’t stand this attitude much longer, yittle girl.”

Now that really does get her going, cheeks as red as a tomato and he can see the lust behind her eyes. He hasn’t once stopped grinning. “You’re not my father...though you’re certainly old enough tah be.” He can’t help but laugh at her audacity. While it most definitely is true, he didn’t think she’d have the guts to say something like that.

“Uh sure am yougin’. Older, bigger, stronger...I’ll toss you over my knee and give you a good old-fashioned spanking if you keep this up. Rollin’ your eyes at me like I’m your frien’, I’ll be dead before I have a brat disrespect me like that...” He mumbles the last part but you most definitely heard all of it. Where on earth did that come from? And why do you suddenly feel like you’re sitting on volcanic rocks?

Everything’s hot, far too hot. And the way that he grins, knowing just how you feel makes you feel almost nauseously needy with a feeling an innocent one like you doesn’t have a name for. But Elvis knows lust when he sees it. And he likes seeing you all messy. Not knowing up or down and just him.

“What’s all this blushin’ for? Getting all worked up over me bein’ all big an’ bossy?” The only sound that escapes the 18-year-old, is a giggle that she doesn’t quite know where it comes from. The type you do when your crush looks at you in the halls, all school girl. She bites down on her knuckle, hoping it doesn’t happen again.

“Yah like the idea o’ me tossin’ yah over my knee? ‘Cause I’ll do it, ain’t nothin’ to laugh about.” A deep shudder escapes you, this...this is wrong. So very wrong. No man that isn’t your father should ever be speaking to you like that...right? And this must be an incredible amount of shame that you’re feeling, that’s why you’re all hot and bothered, right?

As if you’re a dog panting, trying to cool yourself off, you sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. “I think, I uh, need tah go freshen up.” He again spreads his legs as he leans back. Now both his arms are on the backrest, his shirt lifts slightly and he does catch the little lady looking. “That’s alright, sweet girl, you go do that.”

And as if you were waiting for him to grant permission, you lift your little bum like a good girl and b-line it for the little ladies' room. And just then, Elvis realises he hasn’t thought about her once...

So this one might not be as good as the last part, but part 3 is going to be so delicious (smut), I pinky promise.

If you want to be added or removed from the taglist, just ask!

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis the pelvis #elvis the king #70s elvis #big daddy elvis #BDE #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presely smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #60s elvis

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strangersteddierthings · 2 years ago

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Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

Whew! I don’t think I’ve written this much in such a short amount of time ever in my life. The boys deserve a soft ending, I think. Enjoy!

It goes like this. While Eddie's been lost in his own mind, his body was living. Sort of.

Top secret government assisted living, kinda living. For a secret government hospital one would think the place would be fancier or something but it's just a regular looking hospital.

Eddie's in therapy, both for his body and mind.

He learns that the voice he heard when Eleven helped pull him from the depths of his mind was Mike Wheeler of all people, and he sounds different because he's nineteen and in college. Mike mocks him on graduating before Eddie. He regrets it when Eddie gets him into a headlock.

He gets to meet Eleven, outside of his mind. And he starts calling her El. Part of him can't stop thinking about Eleven as the entity he thought was going to lead him to the great beyond.

She is just a person. Sorta.

Dustin had told him there was a girl with superpowers and Eddie is glad she's real. Not that he thought Dustin would lie about this (actually, he might have thought Dustin was lying just to give him some weird version of a pep talk. Everything said before going through Watergate was suspect if he's honest).

When he's finally well enough to be able to leave, Doctor Owens tells him their plan.

They're gonna convince Wayne to fly to Tennessee. Eddie, El, and Mike Wheeler are gonna be flown there, too. There's a place for them to stay, to meet up with his uncle in private.

They'll stay there a month. Doctor Owens knows a doctor who can do Eddie's final evaluations before he can really go home.

That's the real kicker.

Hawkins fucking sucks. Small town, narrow views, non-conformity gets you called a Freak in the same way his Dad used to call him a fag. Like he said, fucking sucks.

But it's also the sanctuary he escaped to when he was eleven years old. It's the place where his uncle built a home for him.

So, back to Hawkins first. He can always go somewhere else later. Maybe a coastal city. See the ocean.

Eddie hasn't been afraid of a reaction from his uncle since that day in the hospital parking lot after he caught Eddie making out with another guy. He's got that same fear inside now, though, knowing that when El opens that door, he'll see the family he feels like he abandoned. It's not fair to himself to think that, his therapist would say, but he's allowed to have crazy thoughts right now. He's come back from being (not)dead and gets to see Wayne again for the first time. Knowing his feelings are justified doesn't make them fade, though, so he's not surprised his voice shakes when the door finally opens. “Hey Uncle Wayne.”

Wayne takes less than two seconds to reach Eddie, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. “I love you so much, you little bastard. Don’t you ever, ever do this to me again.”

It's all Eddie can do to remain upright and hug him back, clinging to his shirt like he's eleven years old again.

Wayne gives him an overview of what he's missed after the Upside Down came into their world (he heard that part from El and Mike, against the better wishes of Doctor Owens). Learns that Wayne and Steve live in Steve's childhood home because his parents just gifted it to him, apparently. That Wayne is only part time at the plant now due to an accident he had, and how that sparked his current living conditions.

Learns that Steve and Wayne became close because, unbelievably, Steve Harrington goes to his grave in the cemetery and cleans off graffiti on the regular.

Eddie feels a little hot under the collar because his brain reminds him of a fact he’d heard once; that the author of Frankenstein lost her virginity on her mother’s grave and a little voice in the back of his head whispers that it'd be hot for him to do the same thing with Steve on his own grave.

He has to scamper to the bathroom to scold himself in the mirror because he cannot be having these kinds of thoughts about Steve while talking to his uncle!

Wayne asks him, the night before their flight, “what’s something you want to do, once everything is settled and life starts to feel normal again?”

“I wanna go on a vacation. Like, a real, bona fide, family vacation.”

“Where you wanna go?”

“Think I’d like to see the ocean.”

Wayne smiles softly. “Alright. When you feel ready for it, we’ll go.”

“Just give him a chance, Eddie,” Wayne says randomly, as they wait to board their flight to Indianapolis.

“Give him a chance? As if I’d waste it,” Eddie feels breathless at just the thought. It's certainly not helping that stupid crush he's been harboring for years, knowing how Steve’s been treating his uncle. It was one thing to watch Steve defend Jeff that one time in high school; it's an entirely different ball game knowing he's watched over his uncle with care and devotion for years. “He took care of you when I couldn’t. He cares. I don’t think there’s a chance I wouldn’t give him.”

“How long have you had a thing for Steve?”

Eddie's brain screeches to a halt because he was didn't think anything he'd just said would give him away. He can't even think of a reply good enough to throw his uncle off his trail. “That’s not- why would you think- when have I ever!?”

“You think I wouldn’t know this about you?” Wayne chuckles.

No. No, Eddie thinks, of course you could take one look at me and know. His uncle had been able to know everything about him so effortlessly. But Eddie doesn't have to answer, so he won't. “So, we’ll be living with Steve Harrington? Will he… be okay with me being there?”

“Yeah. Steve and I had each other when we needed it. Now I need you, so Steve won’t mind at all," Wayne sounds so sure, so convinced, that Eddie is too.

Eddie smiles, pulling a strand of his hair to hide his face behind as he imagines getting to eat at the same dinner table as Steve fucking Harrington. He doesn't even mind that Wayne gives him a look at says 'you are being so obvious right now' because he is. He knows he is. He's allowed to be. Wayne's not going to mock him for his crush.

On the drive from Indianapolis to Hawkins, Wayne tells him the lie he told Steve. Apparently, Steve thinks Eddie's dad is coming to stay for a while. The mere thought of that sets Eddie on edge, even though he knows Wyatt Munson's still in prison. Will be for a long time, with the list of shit they got him for.

They roll into Hawkins shortly after, and while Eddie may have not been in Hawkins the last five years, and he's willing to admit that things might have changed things up since they did have to rebuild a lot of the town, he's certain that Steve's house is on the other side of it. “This isn’t the way to the Harrington house."

“Steve won’t be there. He comes here when he’s overwhelmed," Wayne says. It's still pretty jarring to hear Wayne talk about Steve like this. Like he knows him. Which, he does, obviously, because they've gotten to know each other.

Still mind blowing to think about.

“The cemetery?” is what comes out of his mouth, though.

Wayne knows what's he's really meaning to ask, though, because he shrugs and says, “we both come talk to you. Steve always starts with the bad news, you know. I think you should start with good news. Just this once." The car is slowing down, and Wayne is pointing out the front windshield, to a figure crouched down near a lone headstone. "Ah. See, there he is.”

Steve. He's too far away for Eddie to be sure sure but if anyone is still wearing bright polo shirts tucked into light wash jeans this far after leaving high school, it'd be Steve Harrington. Eddie's not even sure the car is fully stopped when he all but falls out of it.

He doesn't run to greet Steve, because that's a bit dramatic, but he's not too proud to admit he might be power walking. He slows down when he gets closer, coming to a full stop just close enough to hear Steve talking to his grave. Talking to him.

"Bad news, Eds. I'm too much of a coward to meet your old man. Afraid of what he'll sound like. Because I want him to sound like you so fucking bad it hurts. So instead of being home, I'm hiding here."

"Well, I've some bad news for you, too, Stevie. I got my voice from my mom," Eddie says, and almost instantly cringes because Wayne literally just told him to start with good news and he didn't. Eddie doesn't have much time to soak in his embarrassment, though, because Steve whips around so fast that Eddie's dizzy from the movement.

Steve looks older but it's in the way people who have seen more than their fair share of Hell look older, and less about actual aging. His eyes are wide and stunned. Eddie watches as his jaw moves but no words come out. He looks like he's seen a ghost which... ok, that's fair.

"Umm," Eddie says, a little worried he's broken him when Steve doesn't even seem to be blinking as he stares at Eddie. "Good news, Steve. I, uh, I lived. Kinda. El kinda pulled me back to the surface of my mind, or whatever, and Owens did a good job at patchin' up the goods here," he gestures to his whole body with a sweeping motion of his hand and wishes that a gate to the Upside Down would open beneath his feet and suck him back to Hell because could he be any more embarrassing?

"A-are you," he watches as Steve swallows and takes a deep breath. He's still not sure Steve has blinked yet. "real?"

"Yeah," Eddie nods, taking a few steps closer, "yeah, I'm real. I'm here and alive and real."

Steve launches himself forward then, meeting him halfway. It's so goddamn surreal be witness to how tenderly Steve actually reaches out to him, though, such a contrast to the flurry of movement he'd been just a second ago. Eddie stays still as Steve lifts shaking hands to cup his face with, pushing against his cheeks as if to test whether or not Eddie is solid. Those hands slide down, along his neck, across his shoulders, down his arms where Steve seems to need to pause and collect himself again, hands wrapped loosely around his arms just below his elbows while Steve shuts his eyes and a low, broken sound pulls itself from his throat before his eyes open again, wet with tears, and he releases Eddie just long enough to throw his arms around his neck and pull him into a hug almost as crushing as the one he shared with his uncle.

It's overwhelming in this moment. To see how much he means to Steve and not fully understand how he came to mean anything to him at all.

Doesn't stop him from wrapping his own arms around Steve's waist, though.

It goes like this.

He gets his own room at Harrington's house. Wayne has his own room, too. How strange it is, to not have his uncle sleeping the day away on the couch because the trailer had one room and he'd given it to Eddie.

They adjust to living together so seamlessly. Like they were always meant to be family.

They have dinner together. Real homecooked meals. Which isn't a novelty for Wayne and Steve anymore, but Eddie's memory ends five years ago, when his dinners consisted of microwavable meals or left over snacks from lunch. Wayne cooks on the days when Steve works, and Eddie helps. Gets to be taught how to cook.

For a while, Eddie is afraid to leave the house. Even knowing that Jason Carver bit the dust the same day he was supposed to also doesn’t help. He only goes places with Wayne and Steve, and even then, the double takes people send his way are enough to make him want to shrink into himself.

However, no one says anything to him. He's vaguely aware that everyone here lived through some sort of miniature apocalypse and maybe that's the kind of thing that has to happen to make a small town in Indiana change.

He and Steve dance around each other. He can feel it. There is something here, between them, that neither fully acknowledges.

He tries to talk to Wayne about it, but he won't give him much to go on.

"I won't be the one to say anything about what Steve thinks of you. That's gotta come from Steve. I will say this. He's waiting for you to bring it up first."

"Why does it have to be me?"

"He's had five years to gather his thoughts and emotions," Wayne levels him with a Look, "you gotta have the time to figure yourself out, too."

Well, fuck.

Steve waits until it's almost summer break for the kids (they’re not really kids anymore, though, but Eddie’s adjusting to that still) to ask if he's ready to face them. "It'll be a lot to handle," Steve says as he sits next to Eddie on their couch (their couch. He can't believe that's a truth in his life right now). "Eleven and Mike haven't told anyone yet, but they want to. It wasn't just Wayne and I that grieved for you."

"I know," Eddie says, "I know. I'm good. I'm alive and here and I want them to know about it."

Steve nods slowly, not fully focused on Eddie. Eddie's come to know that means he's thinking, so Eddie waits for him to speak. "Would you prefer to meet with everyone... one at a time?"

"What's the other option?"

"Well, I always host a barbeque when they all come back. Could tell everyone all at once. Like ripping off a Band-Aid."

Eddie crooks a smile because he's a bit mischievous and his mind instantly plays a scene where he walks into a backyard full of all the people he's come to care for, and who care for him, and he's trying to best to be casual about it in this fantasy. "Yeah. Let's do the barbeque thing."

"Bad news, Stevie," Eddie whispers as he leans against the wall next his closed door, trying not to hyperventilate. "I don't know if I can do this."

Steve reaches out and takes one of Eddie's hands in his own, linking their fingers like it's a casual thing they do all the time when it's most certainly not. "Good news, Eds. You don't have to. We didn't tell anyone you're here. You can stay in your room until they're gone, and we'll figure out another way to tell them."

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and thinks he might be crushing all the bones in Steve's hand with how hard he's clenching it. "What if they're mad at me?"

Steve understands the real question Eddie is asking, the one he doesn't know how to phrase. "You were dead, Eds, and no one out in that yard is going to be 'mad' about any time they'd spent grieving over you. There's gonna be a lot of tears, man, like a lot. Maybe even some shouting. None of it done in anger."

"How're you sure?"

Steve lifts his unoccupied hand and cups Eddie's check. Steve’s eyes are watery and his voice is a bit choked, but he says, "because I was there. I saw them through their grief. Everyone in the backyard either loves you already, or they will."

It's so fucking intimate, how close they are, how tenderly Steve touches him. Wayne had said he'd need to take the first step, so he blames Wayne when he blurts out, "what about everyone in this room? They love me, too?"

Steve's eyes go wide in surprise before his whole face lights up in a way Eddie has never seen before. It makes Steve look younger, less haunted, and then Steve whispers, "of course I love you," like there is no other answer Steve could have given.

Eddie grabs a handful as Steve's polo shirt and pulls him close enough to kiss.

Butterflies and fireworks erupt within Eddie. Kissing Steve is so much better than he's ever let himself imagine. They're still holding hands and Steve's still got his other hand resting so softly on his cheek and Steve's lips are kinda chapped but fuck does the briefest touch of their lips together make Eddie lose all his breath.

It's not deep, or all consuming. There's not even an exchange of tongue. Steve kisses him softly, gently, pulls back to pepper little kisses all over Eddie's face that has him blushing more than he's ever done in his life, and Steve places one, two, three more kisses to his lips before pulling back to look at Eddie like he's the answer to every prayer Steve's ever had. It makes his knees weak.

"I think," Eddie pauses to lick his lips, "I think I'll be brave enough to do it if you're holding my hand."

"Just try and pry yourself away, Munson," Steve teases. "Whenever you're ready."

Steve was right about the tears and shouting. He was also right that no one is mad at him.

Dustin hugs him so hard they fall over in the yard and Eddie finds himself part of a dog pile that starts with crying that turns into laughter that leads back into crying, everyone grabbing at him and him grabbing back.

It's emotional. It's overwhelming. It's the best fucking day of Eddie Munson's life.

Doctor Owens reaches out towards the end of summer to let him know they're issuing him a new social security card. Eddie asks if he's allowed to change him name. Owens says yes.

"Bad news first, Eddie," Eddie says to himself as he kneels in front of his own headstone. "You've become so boring and normal, no one vandalizes your grave anymore. Good news, though. Means I can do it myself."

Before him is his headstone, a thick red line painted through his death date. Another more carefully applied line is struck through his middle name. Above it he's painted in block letters 'Wayne'.

"Eddie, come on! This road trip's gonna start without you," Steve calls from where he's leaning against the side of Wayne's pickup.

Eddie is satisfied with his work, so he abandons the paint and returns to the pickup. He slides across the bench seat, one leg pretzeled under himself to be out of the way of the gear shift. Steve follows in after, shutting the door and reaching for Eddie's hand automatically.

He's got Wayne to his left, Steve to his right, and the first family vacation he's ever taken in his life ahead of him.

Good news, Eddie Wayne Munson. Maybe everyday going forward can be the best fucking day of your life.

#steddie #my fic #bad news first eddie #its complete!!!#thank you for all the wonderful comments #i tried to tag everone so im sorry if i missed you!

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dollieseo · 6 days ago

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DIAMOND DAYS

NOW PLAYING. diamond days ⨾ cruel youth

SYNOPSIS. when the girl you haven’t seen in years shows up to your photography exhibition, you’re conflicted on how to feel, especially since the last time you saw her, you were both on your way to juvenile detention.

FEATURING. ryujin x reader

WARNINGS. underage drug usage (past), depictions of past self harm, past arrests (please take care of yourselves!!!)

AUTHORS NOTE. lowkey inspired by a jinx fanfic i read a few years ago on ao3

WORD COUNT. 2.2K

you never anticipated the day you’d see ryujin again.

actually, that was a lie. you anticipated it since the day you were separated, you just didn’t expect it.

you couldn’t tell if you were hallucinating or not when you saw a glimpse of her near the entrance, but you were frantically running around greeting guests and making sure everything was in order; too busy to focus on whether or not your ex girlfriend, who almost ruined your life, showed up to your photography exhibition.

you look stunned staring at the woman standing next to you, whose attention is towards one of the many photographs hanging on the wall. the first thing you notice about her is that her hair is different; all black and slightly longer than you remember. she grew out her bangs too. it was different from the black and blonde two toned style she had a few years ago. you think it makes her look older, more mature.

“can’t believe you used the pictures we took together and didn’t even invite me,” ryujin jokingly comments, glancing towards you. to be fair, you didn’t have any way to contact her after everything had happened. you didn’t even expect to see her today but you assume she was yeji’s plus one.

“didn’t think you would mind,” you shyly murmur, not really knowing how to talk to her. ryujin’s behavior was always erratic, especially when she was under the influence─ not that you think she’s still using, but it’s what you remember; walking on eggshells until you were able to decipher what kind of mood she was in.

“do you?” you ask hopefully. none of the many pictures including her had her face in it, but some of them were so clearly her, even without a face.

this would be really awkward if they did bother her.

“nope, not at all,” she replies in an unconvincing tone, turning her head back to the photo.

“diamond days, huh?”

“hm?” you raise your eyebrows.

“the name of your exhibit,” she clarifies, gesturing to the brochure for the event she’s holding, the title displayed in bold.

“oh, yeah.”

the pictures plastered all over the room were taken during the tumultuous years of your childhood, some including ryujin, some not. you spent a lot of time during treatment reminiscing on those memories, considering them your diamond days or golden years as some would call it. diamond days sound fancier.

“i like it,” ryujin smiles at you. it wasn’t her usual cheshire grin she’d give you years ago. it was a genuine, fond smile. despite the difference, it actually eases your nerves. you smile back. maybe everything was okay between you two, contrary to what you thought before.

“unnie!” you hear a high pitched voice calling for you. you turn around to see yuna excitedly approaching you. “ms. kang just got here, she wants to talk to you!” yuna smiles widely, practically bouncing up and down and she excitedly shakes your arms.

since you’ve met yuna, when you were an apprentice under kang seulgi and yuna was modeling for the job, you’ve always known her to be extremely bubbly, her bright red hair is like the cherry on top.

“oh, um,” you’re a little taken aback, thinking that seulgi wouldn’t show up for another hour or so. you glance towards ryujin, whose eyes are focused on yuna with a face you can’t really decipher. her eyes shift to you and she gives a reassuring smile, ushering you to go ahead.

taking the signal, you mouth an apology to her before letting yuna whisk you away to wherever seulgi was.

you spend the rest of the day, and soon night, on a high, talking with professional photographers who you’re surprised even gave you the time of day (you thanked seulgi a million times for her connections). you were able to reminisce on good memories with your friends and family through the photos, though some of them couldn’t hide their disdain for the pictures with ryujin.

you expected things to be hectic today, you’d been to multiple exhibitions before, but being the host was a whole different experience. you loved it, but god, were you tired.

once you finally get a moment alone, sensing that you won’t be needed for a while, you take the opportunity to slip outside the back door for some fresh air. as the cool breeze hits you, you let out a sigh. with so many people in one venue, it felt a little stuffy. you feel like you finally have a chance to breathe.

“i’m guessing you had the same idea as me?”

startled, you whip your head towards the voice, only to see ryujin leaning against the wall, looking at you with amusement.

you sigh again, out of relief that it’s her and not someone, anyone, else. “i didn’t know you were out here.”

ryujin shrugs, crossing her arms, “this isn’t really my scene, all the formal, professional shit. needed a break,” she tilts her head, you imagine her with a cigarette in her left hand, “i guess you did too.”

it’s not a question. she knew you so well that she could just tell by looking at you. it makes you realize that even though you’ve grown, you never fully changed.

you nod, “it’s a lot. i mean, i’m super proud of how it’s going but,” you pause, trying to think of how to describe your feelings. you’re only able to repeat yourself, “it’s a lot.”

“you should be proud,” ryujin compliments. “everything looks great.”

it’s a bit dry for ryujin’s eccentric mind, but there’s sincerity in her eyes; you can tell she means it. ryujin always complimented you, telling you your hair or outfit was “cool”. she said that to a lot of people though, her calling you cool never felt special. telling you that you should be proud of yourself (in a non-sarcastic way) for your art felt nice.

the two of you fall silent, and you’re reminded of everything that rushed through your head when you first saw her earlier. there were so many things you wanted to tell her, ask her.

could you?

the last time you saw her, the two of you were being pinned to the ground, pushed into the pavement by police officers as you struggled. it’s a little blurry, considering you were heavily under the influence. you remember that ryujin didn’t struggle. as you fought with the male cop and almost caught a resisting charge, she accepted her fate. you only stopped after she called your name and told you that everything would be okay.

you believed her. she was right, but the first few months without her felt like hell on earth.

“i’m sorry,” ryujin desperately blurts out. you look at her and see her eyebrows furrow and a sorrow look in her eyes, “i never got to tell you that.”

the two of you had separate trials and weren’t allow to contact each other. even after you both got out you refused to speak to her. ryujin tried getting your phone number or social media from yeji and bless her for not wanting to get in the middle, despite being friends with the both of you.

was it really your own decision to cut contact?

fuck no.

you want to tell her that it’s okay, but you refrain from doing so. you both know it’s not. instead, you sigh, and consider your words carefully before speaking, “we were both kids back then, ryu. i think there’s a lot of things we didn’t get to say to each other.”

ryu, not ryujin. you didn’t mean to call her that, but slipped out so seamlessly.

suddenly, ryujin pushes herself from the wall and begins walking towards the venue parking lot. “come on,” she lets out, sparing not one glance towards you.

you remain still, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow at the back of her head. she senses your hesitation and huffs before turning her head back to you, “let’s talk in the car, it’s cold outside. unless… you have to go back inside?”

regardless of her question, she doesn’t really give you any room to decline as she continues walking the second she finishes her sentence. you almost hate that about her, keyword: almost.

truthfully, you don’t think you could ever hate ryujin, even after she got both of you arrested. you can’t hate her for that. ryujin has always stuck beside you. granted, you know that definitely stemmed from her own fears of being alone but regardless, she’s always been there.

even now, after everything, her deciding to come back warmed your heart more than anything else that happened tonight. so, like you always have, you mindlessly follow her to the parking lot.

you keep a bit of distance, letting her lead you to her car. you expect her to drive something simply, like a toyota, or maybe a jeep; for some reason she always thought those were cool. when you realize which vehicle she’s actually walking to, you speed up to catch up to her, eyes blinking rapidly in surprise.

“okay, what the fuck do you do to afford a damn alfa romeo? is that a new model?”

“contrary to popular belief,” ryujin begins, opening her side of the door while you reach your side, “i did not blow all of my drug money on more drugs,” she smiles oh so sweetly and gets in the car. you huff and do the same.

being in the car with ryujin brings another wave of nostalgia. six years ago, it was you in the driver seat and her in the passenger seat of your 2017 honda civic your dad got you for christmas. you‘d spent all day driving around the city and all night hotboxing in an empty parking lot.

none of you say anything for a while, taking in the atmosphere and thinking of what to say, how to start the conversation.

ryujin decides to break the ice, “i cared about you a lot, you know.” her eyes stare out the windshield. so does yours.

you let out a breathy laugh, “how many times are you gonna surprise me today?”

“did you know that?” she turns to you. you don’t think you’ve ever seen her look so serious.

“for god's sake ryujin, you taught me how to cut myself─”

“i taught you how to not kill yourself!”

“fuck no, i didn’t think you gave a shit about me!”

the back and forth sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouths, but it’s true. she caught you frustratingly jamming a razor blade through your wrist in the middle of the night. you know what she told you?

“unless you seriously wanna die, do it on your thighs next time. you’ll pop a vein being so aggressive.”

how dumb of you to believe that ryujin would be sound asleep all night.

“you were a fucking mess─”

“we both were.” you almost growl, gritting your teeth. you can’t help but glare at her and wonder if she’s trying to put more of the blame on you.

ryujin leans her head back, basically banging it against the headrest. she lets out a sigh while brushing a hand through her hair, “i didn’t know what else to do… i wanted to help you─ i really did, y/n! but… that was the only way i knew how.”

“by dragging me down with you…” you distantly mumble, staring down your feet.

“i meant what i said earlier though. we were both young. doesn’t make shit okay but… i’m not mad at you for it. or anything. i hope you aren’t too mad at me either.”

“m’ not,” ryujin mutters, “it wasn’t all bad, right?”

“no, it wasn’t.” you think about all the times the two of you spent in the comfort of each other. no substance, just you; talking and understanding each other. you miss that.

you wonder if things could ever go back to the way they were, before the drugs. when you two were just innocent kids learning how the world works. you take a look at ryujin and like you did earlier, you mark how different she looks. you wonder if her change in appearance matches her personality.

sure, she’s acted relatively calm to today, but what if that’s just because there was nothing to piss her off? or if she just woke up irritated? would she flip out and revert to her old ways?

you’re thoughts are interrupted by your phone buzzing on your lap. for a split second, you want to ignore it. that’s before you remember that you’re here because you’re hosting your exhibition.

you flip your phone over, the brightness shining straight through your eyes, and see a text from yuna:

where are u ?

you sigh for what felt like the millionth time today and glance at ryujin, who’s looking at you with uncertainty. for years you’d give anything to know what she’s thinking.

“i should probably get back,” you say, looking away from her and getting yourself together. you place your hand on the handle and pause, “thanks for coming. seeing you today… really helped. drive home safe,” is what you manage before getting out of the car and heading back inside the building.

for your own sake, you didn’t look at her. you didn’t see the face she made when you got out of the car. you could see the face she made as you walked away.

you decided you didn’t want to find out.

#itzy x reader #itzy #ryujin #shin ryujin #ryujin x reader #shin ryujin x reader #itzy fic #itzy ryujin #fem reader #gxg #kpop #kpop fic #wlw #girl group x reader

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slytherinshua · 6 months ago

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BEAUTIFUL STRANGER

genre. slice of life. kind of open ending. warnings. none. pairing. fuma x fem!reader. wc. 913. request. requested by @heavenfilm for fuma inspired by beautiful stranger by laufey. a/n. i hope this fic like?? makes sense?? def heavily inspired by the song and doesn't have much plot but i think its cute :(

The train ride to work was more often than not, almost completely empty. You enjoyed the silence of being one of the 10 or 15 passengers travelling so early in the morning. It was pleasant. You usually took train 112 to your office, but it had recently gone out of business because of how little people it transported each way. A newer, fancier train had taken its place, going throughout the capital to many different stops. It was more cost-efficient, you had to admit, but you missed the quietness you once had on the one hour ride.

It was early in the morning when you boarded the compartment. The sun had barely been up for an hour, and you clutched your hot cup of coffee in your hands as you took a seat. Waiting patiently for the train to start moving, you started to people-watch to pass the time, scanning the unfamiliar faces of other passengers taking the same train, doubtless to one of the other stops.

There was a father reading a book about cars, and his son reading over his shoulder. Two teenage girls were talking to each other in whispers and giggles, most likely about a crush at school. There was a young woman staring out of the window, and in her hand was a small knitted baby hat. She looked sad, and you wondered what her story was. Your eyes travelled to the door of the train as you heard the sound of it closing.

A young man had just walked through the doors as one of the last passengers to board. As soon as you saw him, your breath was caught in your throat. You looked away quickly, immediately shy in the presence of one of the most dashingly handsome men you had ever seen in your entire life.

He took a seat right across from you, and pulled out a newspaper from his back pocket. You dared to take another glance at his face, memorising his jawline and cheekbones. How could someone be so effortlessly attractive?

He seemed to feel your stare on him, and he suddenly glanced up, catching your eyes before you could act discreet. You felt your face grow hot— you hoped he didn’t notice. From the corner of your eye, you were almost certain you caught a small smile on his face. What is it because of you? No. He probably read an amusing headline.

The entire train ride seemed to go by far too quickly, and you spent almost all of it studying the beautiful stranger. You tried to not be obvious, but you were sure that you failed within the first 10 minutes. It was as if he was hypnotising you, sucking all your willpower away, glueing your eyes to his figure.

A stirring feeling in your stomach told you that you should ask for his name. Maybe he was also on his way to your stop. Maybe you would see him again. You cursed yourself for being so nervous. You could never get yourself to take a risk. What if he already had someone in his life? The embarrassment would be unbearable if he did. Who were you to try to make a move, anyway?

So, you sat in silence, imagining what you thought his life might look like. You decided in your head that he was a plain office worker in the big city, and he was on his way to work as usual. Each morning was exactly the same, the comfortable routine that people dreamed of, but once achieved always seemed to be more underwhelming than expected.

As you studied his face and mannerisms, you decided that he was probably an only child— taking after his father, though his mother adored him. He grew up with humble roots, his only dream being to be able to make his parents proud. And he was able to achieve it when he landed his job for a successful corporation.

But life in the city was lonely, and he wasn’t one for socialising. While his coworkers went off to parties on the weekend, he stayed in his small apartment and read books. He liked all kinds of books, but romance was his favourite. He would never admit how much he longed to experience it himself, but he adored the idea of it. Not dramatic, adventurous romances, but quiet, serene love stories that budded like a flower, blossoming and blooming to perfection.

Yes, that was what he longed for, you decided. But given his shy nature, he never had the courage to ask any lady out. He was worried he wouldn’t have time for romance, though the loneliness continued to eat away at him. It would be more bearable with someone by his side.

The announcement of your stop rang throughout the compartment and broke your train of thought. You sighed and took one last glance at the man, still contentedly reading his newspaper. You stood up and grabbed your bag, one last urge to ask for his name flashed through your mind, but you suppressed it and stepped off the train. You secretly wished that you would see him again— maybe he would be on the same train tomorrow morning. If he was, you would take your chance. But, for now, he remained your beautiful stranger; one that you had no guarantee of ever stumbling upon again, but had stolen your heart in that hour, and you were content with him keeping it.

↳ &team taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kpoprhia,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,, @chiiyuuvv,,

@seunghancore,, @heavenfilm,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy

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modelbus · 1 year ago

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This might be more on the angst side… oops? Also, this is like 3k words… There are POV switches!! And this was inspired by an ao3 story with a similar premise but that was with Kaz and Wylan so there’s that.

There is alcohol and suggestiveness in this! Be warned, it’s a bit different than my usual!

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

Flufftober 4 - It’s All An Act (Spies)

"Sorry, what?" You stare at Kaz, and he stares back evenly.

"It's a simple mission. You don't have to do anything."

"Then why do you need me?"

He sighs, gloved hand tightening and loosening on his crow cane. Without a doubt, he was upset at you for not getting it, but forgive you for being a little startled when he asks you to pretend to date him!

"It'll be too suspicious if I show up alone. All I need you for is pretending to date me. But carry some weapons in case things go... awry."

"You want me to go with you to a party, pretend to date you, and... that's it?"

"That's it."

You stare at him for a few more moments, trying to figure out if he had any other angle. Most times, Kaz Brekker kept his crows in the loop. But there were times when he didn't, and you knew him too well to not try and figure out if it was or wasn't.

Although you were the second newest crow (thanks to Wylan for taking the newest title) you and Kaz actually somewhat got along. You’re certain it's because he values you ability to kill without hesitation. That's what you are to him: his assassin. Your role, your one job, was to kill and to kill efficiently.

He didn't question why you were able to kill so easy, and you didn't question his aversion to touch and water. You got along, and things were fine.

Or, they were, until you had to go and start noticing stupid things about him. Like the way he looked mid-fight, slamming his cane into someone. Or the way his lips would barely twitch when one of them said something particularly funny. It took you a bit to realize, but when you did you knew you were royally fucked.

Because, of course, you started to develop feelings for Kaz Brekker. Feelings that, as long as you were sane, would stay quite hidden. Which only made this whole job harder.

He wanted you to pretend to date him. It might just be the hardest thing he's asked of you yet, and he doesn't even know it.

"Take the job. Wish I could go to a party." Jesper grumbles, and you glance at the sharp shooter sitting next to you.

"Unfortunately, no one in their sound mind would believe we were dating." Kaz says cooly. "That, and everyone knows your face around here."

You grimace. Your own insurance, coming to bite you in the ass. Most people only saw you face before you killed them. It was easier to sneak around in plain sight that way. Obviously the crows were the exceptions, and maybe a few others out there.

"You're sure nobody else wants to do this?" You try.

"Wylan and Jesper are far too in love for me to take Wylan, Inej is out hunting slavers, and Nina..." He shakes his head.

"Fine. Whatever. I'll do the stupid job."

You sigh, knowing this job very well might be the death of you. Emotional death, that is. But then again, it was Kaz. Surely he wasn't the type to be a touchy fake date, not with his touch aversion.

"Good. Meet me down here at nine sharp tomorrow night. Dress nice, have concealed weapons."

Kaz walks off, not waiting for you to confirm you understood his directions. You scowl at his back before sighing.

"This will be a disaster."

"I'm sure it'll be fun!" Jesper exclaims. "It's a party, how bad can it be?"

"I have to fake date Kaz Brekker." You deadpan.

"Yeah, but he wants you for arm candy. To draw the attention away from him. That's the closest to a compliment you'll ever get out of him."

You can't help but sigh again. "We take what we can get with him, don't we?"

Kaz is waiting for you outside the Crow Club when you arrive. He isn't dressed any different from his normal, except a pocket watch with a fancier chain than you’re used to. His gaze is level as he gazes at you as you walk towards him.

And you knows you looks good, but that isn't why he's looking at you. You’re in a nice outfit for once, flowing sleeves down to your wrists, and black gloves up to your elbows nearly. The gloves and long sleeves were carefully planned, knowing exactly what role you’d be playing tonight.

"How many knives do you have?" Kaz asks, looking behind you, almost like he's checking to see if you were followed by anyone.

"Seven." You grin. You may be a pretty distraction tonight, but you’re just as dangerous as you are pretty.

"Good." He nods. Not approval, but close enough. "Let's go."

You walk next to him as they go through the streets of Ketterdam, slowly heading to the more expensive places. The streets widen, becoming more and more lit as they go, and you realize that maybe you should've asked whose party this was.

"So, Brekker. Lovely night, isn't it?" You ask conversationally. From the very start You’ve always used his last name, and haven’t even thought of changing that despite how he always ground his teeth at it.

"What do you want?" He snaps.

"Come on, be nicer to your date." You can't help yourself. Kaz might not react much, but it's funny when he does react.

"This was a bad idea."

"But we're too far into it now."

Kaz's jaw clenches, and you can't help but laugh quietly. "So, the plan?"

He sighs, and you wait a moment. Although he's sometimes an asshole, and mostly keeps things to himself, he's always told you everything you needed to know in a plan.

"Just look pretty and act stupid. Do what I tell you, for once." He finally says.

"Oh, yikes, that'll be really hard. I mean, listening to you?" You joke.

Kaz pulls up short, slamming his cane out in front of you. "I mean it, assassin."

And just as you called him Brekker, he called you by your job. Assassin.

"You can't call me that tonight." You respond calmly. "It'll give us away."

"Say it."

You groan. "Fine. I'll listen to you."

He nods sharply, continuing on. "Good."

"You're a little paranoid, don't you think?"

Kaz doesn't even justify you with an answer at that one, leaving you to walk alongside him quietly.

"This is it." He announces suddenly, and draws up short.

You let your eyes flicker over the building—tons of windows—then return to him. "...are you sure?"

"Yes. Inside. Now."

The second you take a step in, you shrink yourself. Shoulders curling in, angling yourself towards Kaz. You can feel his eyes on you as you do so, raking over you.

"Loosen up." He instructs you in a low voice.

"Easy for you to say." You murmur back. "You're not the one pretending to be the crow's whore."

"Someone's said that to you before."

It's not a question. Of course it isn't. Kaz's eyes sharpen, hardening into something mean in front of you.

"Not now." You say dismissively.

He glares at you but gives you a curt nod, and together you walk into the party. You, just for tonight, let yourself revel in the eyes being drawn to you. You give a taunting grin to someone they walk by, playing up your role a little.

Look pretty? Yeah, you can do that.

"Mr. Brekker." A merchant says, his eyes sliding from Kaz to you. "And..."

"Alex." you purr, tilting your head.

Like hell you’re giving your real name out to anyone here. Instead, Alex, a random name, will have to do.

"My date." Kaz cuts in smoothly. "Don't mind them."

"Pretty." The merchant says appraisingly. You should be flattered, but you’re more disgusted.

Kaz tilts his head, studying you. "Yes." He agrees coldly. "Get a drink, we're going to talk business. Loosen up."

You pause, but this certainly isn't the time to mention that youve never drank before. Instead you give him a graceful nod, floating off through the crowds.

The bar is an open bar, you can tell that from the lazy way the bartender is flashing his watch. Nobody here is expected to get drunk, or to steal it. Unfortunately for them, you and Kaz are here, so no watch is safe.

"I'll have a drink." You say lightly, leaning on the counter.

"Of?" The bartender asks, snorting.

Shit.

"Make me what you're best at." You answer, looking at him through your eyelashes. It should be a safe answer.

By the way the bartender smiles and starts to make something, it is. A second later a glass of something is slid your way. Here's to hoping this won't fuck with you too much.

Kaz Brekker

He's starting to get a little worried. Not too much, he knows you can handle yourself perfectly fine, but it has been a while since he sent you off. You weren’t at the bar: he's been checking it every few moments.

It's starting to piss him off. One job, one easy job, and you can't even follow that. There was no point in bringing you if you was just going to vanish.

"Come on, Assassin." He murmurs, still scanning the crowd.

Truthfully, he shouldn't be calling you that here. Alex was the name you gave the merchant earlier, and Alex was the name he should be calling you by. He isn't sure where Alex came from, actually.

It doesn't matter. What does matter is what he came here for, and finding you.

Of course, right as he's about to turn back to the real reason he's here, there's a clatter of decidedly sour guitar strings. Most don't turn towards the noise, but Kaz does. And when he sees, his entire body freezes.

Because where else would you be except talking to the guitar player. And, from the looks of it, flirting with him.

"There you are." Kaz says, striding to you, feeling like yelling. "I've been looking for you."

"Sorry." You chirp, grinning brightly at him.

At that, he falters. When was the last time he saw a smile that bright, that genuine? Actually, scratch that, when had you ever apologized to him?

He leans closer, whispering in your ear, words coming out more as a snarl than anything else. "What are you doing, Assassin?"

"Me?" You ask, looking genuinely surprised. "I'm talking to the guitar player! I used to play guitar, you know, before my father broke it."

He flicks his eyes over you. Not once have you ever divulged information about your personal life, and not once did Kaz ever ask.

"You're drunk?" He asks, incredulously.

"Me? Drunk?" You gasp, stumbling.

With a lurch, he grabs your arms to stop you from hitting the floor. Even through his gloves, it sends a jolt up his spine.

"Three layers." You slur, and he realizes you’re comforting him while drunk. "Don't panic."

"How much did you drink?" He demands lowly, dragging you to a darker corner.

"Three. Maybe four."

"Three what?"

Only three drinks shouldn't have messed you up this much, not unless they were straight vodka or something ridiculous.

"I don't know."

He stares at you. It isn't like you to be so... careless.

"What do you mean you don't know?" He snaps.

"I've never drank before." Kaz's jaw goes slack. You’ve never drank before? This is your first time drinking? Ever? "Hey, anyone ever tell you your eyes are nice?"

"Shut up, I need to think." Kaz growls, drawing a hand down his face.

His eyes dart around, landing on a nearby door. Without a second thought, he shoves you in, closing the door behind you and locking it. It's a bathroom, and for that he's incredibly thankful.

"Splash yourself with water." Kaz orders, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

"Why?"

"To sober you up."

"Will it really?"

Kaz is starting to like you a lot more when she's sober.

You

An explosion rockets through the building, shaking the walls a little. "Woah." You laugh. It’s funny for some reason. "One of ours? Wylan's?"

"Yes." Kaz says, eyes flicking between you and the door. "Water, now."

"Why are we bombing the party?"

"Near the party." He corrects you impatiently.

There's a sudden pounding on the door, and Kaz swears under his breath violently.

"Anyone in there?! Open up!"

You lift yourself onto the bathroom counter, sitting next to the sink. You watch Kaz, his scheming face on.

"What are you doing?" He asks, still glaring at you.

"Get over here."

"What are you doing?"

"Kaz." You raise your eyebrows. "Get caught or get over here."

Kaz clenches his jaw, striding up to you. "Now what? You're drunk, we're in a bathroom."

You run your hands through your hair, messing it up. You move back further to lean against the mirror, spreading your legs.

"Hands on either side of my head."

Immediately, Kaz stiffens. "Pardon?"

"We either make it look like you're about to fuck me or we get caught."

His eyes go cold, but he leans in, placing a hand to right of your head. His left hand, though, goes to your waist.

"Three layers." He murmurs, almost to himself. "You're drunk, which means I'm yelling at you later for this."

"Please don't-" You cut yourself off with a gasp when the door slams open. You’re close. Not enough to touch Kaz, your mind isn't that foggy, but enough to certainly imply some things.

"Oh." A strange voice says. "Oh. My- my apologies, I didn't-"

"Get out." Kaz growls, turning his head away from you to glare at whoever is at the door.

The door shuts quickly with a loud "thud" noise. Both Kaz and you stay there for a moment, waiting to see if the intruder was actually gone.

"Wasn't that fun?" You say weakly.

"No." Kaz snaps, turning his head back to glare at you.

"Don't be pissed at me. I just saved our asses." You complain, meeting his eyes.

"Who said I'm pissed at you? Frustrated, certainly. I can't fault you too much for being drunk when I asked you to get a drink."

"You have a nice voice." You say honestly.

"Close your mouth before you say something you'll regret."

you stare at him for a moment, mind swirling with thoughts you can't truly sort out.

You’re suspended for another second, neither of you having moved from the quite intimate position. You wasn't a short person, but you were smaller than Kaz, meaning he's practically covering your body with his right now.

"Could you get off me?" You say quietly.

"You're the one who put us in this position." He responds, raising his eyebrows. "If you were uncomfortable with it, you shouldn't have done it."

Either way, he removes his hands, but doesn't step back. Your head swims, having entirely forgotten his hand was on your waist in the first place.

"No, it's because I liked it too much."

Kaz closes his eyes, rubbing his temples with gloved hands. "This is why I don't deal with drunk people."

"What, drunk people are too honest or something?"

"No. Secrets get spilled that nobody wants to hear."

"You don't want to hear my secrets?" You pout, a little upset. You must truly be nothing to him if he didn't even want your secrets to use against you.

"Why are you sad at that?" Kaz asks, and if you didn't know better you’d think he sounds incredulous.

"Because that means I mean nothing to you, which is depressing."

"Where did you get that idea?" His eyebrows furrow.

"You want everyone's secrets." You point out, still leaning against the mirror while sat on the counter. "Why not mine?"

"Trust me, I want them. I just want them out of your own free will."

Hell if you know what that means, but... "Nobody is holding a gun to my head."

"You're drunk. You have no filter."

"Correct. And? When did you care about morals?"

"I don't." He levels his cool gaze at you. "But when it comes to you... I know I wouldn't want my secrets getting out because I'm drunk."

"When it comes to me?" You echo, jumping on the lose thread in his words.

"Get off the counter."

"Explain."

An unstoppable force meets an unmovable object, what happens? A collision so grand, so huge, that everything else pales in comparison.

But they aren't unstoppable or unmovable. You are drunk, Kaz has his own problems.

So he steps back, and you slide off the counter, fixing your clothes.

"Let's go." Kaz says gruffly.

But even now, even in the dim lighting of a bathroom, even with a foggy mind that is slowly clearing, you know. Hell, you both know.

Something has changed.

#six of crows #soc #kaz brekker #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #soc kaz #six of crows kaz

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