#my mom tried to get me to stop by biting me
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Why the Hate?(Magda Eriksson x Pernille Harder x Teen Reader)
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AN: i Hope you like my Interpretation of this. I know it's short but i just wanted to get some requests out.
Warnings: mentions of Homophobia, Adoption, bullying
Summary: you get bullied at school for being adopted and having two moms.
You loved having two moms. It was one of your favorite things ever. What you didn't like though was the comments people made about your Family.
You walked to your next class when your bullies started shouting at you again.
"Look it's gay Orphan Annie! Her two moms made her gay too!" One of them yelled out and the others started laughing hysterically.
You sigh softly and continue to walk. Trying to ignore what they are saying. But it was easier said then done!
The bullying continued over the rest of the school day. You were thankful when you got home and your moms were still at practice so you didn't have to face them. Cause it was obvious you had been crying. And you didn't know how to explain that to them.
You went to take a quick shower and then started doing your homework. It was around 6pm when you moms came home.
"älskling?" Magda asked. You opened the door to your room, peaking your head out.
"hi Mama, hi Mom!" You said softly.
"hi engel!" Pernille replied.
"i am making dinner now." Magda informed you.
"i am not really hungry, Mama!" You answered softly. Biting down on your bottom lip. Your moms glanced at one another. It was obvious that they knew something was up.
"y/n? Are you getting sick?" Pernille asked.
"possible. The flu is going around at school right now, Mom!" You just said, which wasn't even a lie. The flu was in fact going around. But you weren't getting sick. You just weren't feeling very well. Which had mental reasons. Being bullied sucked.
"Go get some rest, Love! We gonna Check on you later!"your Mama answered.
"vi elsker dig, engel." Your Mom answered.
"i Love you Guys too!" You told them and offered them a tried smile. Closing the door to your room and sitting down on your bed, taking a deep breath before you started crying. You couldn't stop yourself. Tears just happened to run down your cheeks. Sobs escaping your mouth.
Your moms went to check on you after dinner, around 45 minute later, you haven't really moved from your seat on your bed.
They knocked on the door.
"skat, kan vi komme ind?" Your Mom asked.
"yes you can." You replied and quickly wiped away your tears but your face was all red and puffy. Magda and Pernille walked in and frowned. Sitting down on each side of you.
"what's wrong? Talk to us?" Your Mama whispered out.
"i don't know how to start! It's...complicated!" You answered.
"we don't judge. I Hope you know that Love!" Your mom said softly.
"i do know that!" You replied with a small smile. Before frowning again. Going through so many emotions all at once.
"i get bullied at school." You explained.
"who is bullying you and why?!" Your moms both asked in shock.
You didn't know how to explain all of this without exposing your Secret. But you knew you had to speak up.
"because i am adopted and because i have two moms! I am not ashamed or anything! I just hate how they act! That they don't just leave me alone! And they disrespect you! Which is what i hate the most! They also call me gay!" You tell them and sigh softly.
"Just ignore them! You know yourself the best!" Magda told you.
"but they are right! I am gay! I didn't say anything anf i am dating a Girl from my Volleyball Team!" You finally admitted.
They both give you a side hug. You call this kind of hug a 'moms sandwich' . Which you liked alot. They always made you feel safe.
"sweet Girl! This Is great! We are Happy for you and we can discuss another school for you or something like that if it's really needed! We can figure something out! You are not alone in this! And we are Happy for you that you found your true self!" Pernille let you know. You stayed cuddled up to them both.
Talking a little more. Promising them they would get to meet your girlfriend Mina soon. And you would talk to some other schools as well.
#pernille harder x magda eriksson#MagdaErikssonXPernilleHarderXTeenReader#woso x reader#woso request
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If you aren’t down to let me constantly bite your arms and chest and thighs and legs and face and neck and shoulders and ass and-
Anyway, if you aren’t down for that what are we even doing?
#femdxm#I’m a biter#always have been#my mom tried to get me to stop by biting me#it obviously didn’t work#you can that the girl away from the bite#but you can’t take the bite away from the girl#mostly because I’ll still have teeth
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god i fucking hate my dad
#he came home today from a bike trip he went on and he's been arguing with me about honeybee the whole fucking day#he keeps saying just let her out let her run around! every time i put her in her pen to nap#and he refuses to stop her from biting him#and he got mad at her for playing with his socks when she'd just been playing with mine and he threw them on the floor of the living room#which first of all stop being such a fucking slob#and second of all what the fuck did you expect to happen? it's a soft new toy on the floor where she spends most of her time. where all her#toys are. very similar to the two soft items she's allowed to play with (my socks)#she's fucking 3 months old she doesn't understand the difference between my socks and his socks#and i keep telling him i know what im doing i was doing all the research while he went to buttfuck nowhere on his midlife crisis motorcycle#but he just wont fucking listen to me#and hes like oh youre at that age where you think youre right about everything and are so stubborn like fuck you actually#first of all im stubborn about this because its a living breathing puppy and his actions will affect her behaviour as an adult#and bc i know what im fucking doing. ive been an animal person my entire life. i did all the research. i did this exact same thing with#parrots for five years.#and hes like you cant just put her in her pen every time shes being a dog like no i fucking dont. i only put her in her pen when it's time#for a nap and she's getting overtired. you can't just let her run around until she collapses bc for one she never fucking will#second that's only going to make her energy threshold higher and then she'll be absolutely impossible to handle#and i told him that and that i read that on like every professional dog training source i read#and he said that might be true or might not be#like it fucking is bitch omfg#and then he tried to one up me like um i actually raised you guys for a long time i know what im doing#like a child is not a fucking dog. also my mom raised us lets be fucking serious. and look how well adjusted i turned out#and he told me to relax and calm down like i wasnt even arguing with him but i sure as hell will now#like dont tell me to fucking relax. when has telling anyone to relax ever made anything better. especially a teenager. especially a (for#simplicity's sake) woman.#and i told him dont tell me to relax and he got all pissy and stormed off#like literally fuck you#im my fathers daughter. im just as stubborn as he is.#rambles
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One of my cats, the one who is the best natured, the most tolerant and loving, bites my mom. Real, hard biting that breaks skin. He doesn't do this to anyone else in the house. She acts very victimized by it.
But when I ask, were you bothering him? I know you like to annoy the cats on purpose, were you teasing him after he gave you warnings to stop? Were you ignoring boundaries he set? And she'll give the most nonchalant, 'Yeah, probably.'
I'm realizing a lot about my own childhood trauma. I'm remembering, vaguely, distantly, the way I would have my own warnings ignored. I think I remember being overpowered, physically. In good fun! To play, to tickle! Except that I was so so small, and whether I wanted to play was irrelevant. And I was laughing, clearly I liked it! There was nothing I could do once she was playing, so I started avoiding physical play, keeping myself out of positions I could be trapped and tickled as much as I could.
I remember... How important it was to me to speak for my brother. To make sure he was clearly understood. He needs this, he wants that. He doesn't like that.
He doesn't like that. (Please stop doing that to him.) (Please stop doing that to me.)
We both got bigger and were eventually able to defend ourselves. Strong enough to squirm free and crawl away, or to stay curled up in a ball and not have our limbs pulled open and tickle spots revealed. My brother learned that if he gave no reaction, it would bore her until she stopped, and that worked for him. I learned that I had to grab her wrists and physically push her away for her to stop, and that, in combination with avoiding getting into the situation and repeatedly saying while in a safe position I didn't really like to be tickled ('Of course you do, you used to ask me to tickle you as a kid!' maybe sometimes.) finally got her to stop.
We're both big now. She bothers the cats. She likes to touch their noses and whiskers. The girl cats have learned when to walk away from her, they are able enough to squirm and then run. Roman is too big, too out of shape to run, so he's learned that when he has had enough, the only thing she'll listen to is his teeth.
I don't like being touched by strangers. I hate being tickled, it makes me feel out of control, and helpless. I hate feeling helpless.
I love my mother and she never meant any harm. But I am recognizing more and more harm from her as I start to dig deeper into my past and recognize things as trauma that I didn't flag earlier because they didn't sound traumatic. "I was often held down and tickled by my mom as a child" sounds like a cute childhood story. "I was physically overpowered, touched in ways I didn't want to be, had my protests ignored, and made to feel helpless by a parent" has a much different ring to it.
I was also shamed/guilted into having very, very lax physical boundaries. My mother could touch or grab me wherever and whenever she wanted. I was never sexually abused, never, so it has taken me a long time to recognize the situation as traumatizing. My mom jokes that when I started picking my own clothes, I always dressed like a prude, I never wanted even an inch of skin uncovered on my legs or waist and I would make sure to find the right clothes to achieve that. Leggings, all socks, oversized shirts, layers. As soon as I learned I was allowed to wear jeans I started to do so, and to this day Denim feels like armor to me. She's mentioned it's a texture she doesn't like. I wonder if that's related. I wonder if I was always subconsciously (maybe even consciously, I don't remember much of my childhood and I mostly have emotional amnesia about the parts I do remember- as if it was someone else's life I'm remembering) shielding myself from unwanted touches.
#there is a game my mother plays called 'toe rape' where she tries to catch you by suprise when you are lounging on the couch or recliner#without socks on and she tries go to stick as many fingers between your toes as possible before you physically stop her.#Saying or even shouting 'no!' and 'stop!' will not get her to stop. She's laughing and playing its a harmless game!#I am rarely if ever found without socks on. I have found myself sitting sockless on the couch and when she arrives home gotten up to go put#socks on. I tend to sit on couches with my feet tucked under me and it isn't always comfortable but it feels secure.#I wonder why.#Whenever im home Roman likes to sit on my lap. I pet him and never mess with his nose or whiskers. She says he likes me so much more than#her. She says it jealously. Multiple people in this household have told her its because I don't annoy him on purpose (most of the time.)#i have tried to point out his tells to her. His warnings. When to stop. But she doesn't care. She thinks messing with him and watching him#get increasingly worked up and agitated is funny. Until he bites her. And then she pushes him away all offended and complains.#mom he didn't want to be pushed away he was happy cuddled on your lap he loves you. He just wants you to stop touching him there. He just#wants you to respect his boundaries.#Her husband is the most common target of 'toe rape' and I recognize his yelling and swearing as genuine protesation when she does. I dont#know if she recognizes it too and just thinks it's funny to cross what she surely considers a harmless boundary anyway... or if she thinks#he is playing too. I feel inclined toward the former unfortunately.#And it isn't like she likes to be touched these ways either! And she is firm in those boundaries while making the rest of us feel like we#can't be. ...I don't know. I'm just. Thinking about stuff. Reframing somr childhood memories.#trauma#mental health#mental illness#childhood trauma#atypical trauma
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SHOWIN’ WHAT’S MINE
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rafe hates when you dare cover up one of the vulgar hickeys he leaves on your neck while he's deep inside you. he hates it with a burning passion, and would happily let them be permanent just to show everyone that you’re already his.
that’s why every time you do it, he goes crazy.
you climbed into his truck with a small sigh from the rush you had to make to be ready on time, and unconsciously ran a hand through your hair—an action that revealed your strangely smooth neck, without any marks. his blue eyes lingered on that detail as he leaned down to kiss your lips with narrowed eyes, his hand resting on your jaw. “hi, baby”he greeted you, returning your sweet smile with a small one. he couldn't look away from your neck, his gaze darting from side to side because he was pretty sure that somewhere there had to be a hickey he'd left the day before.
“you playin’ at cover up?” he teased, adjusting in his seat. he had no intention of leaving until he understood. you frowned at his words, tilting your head as you took in his uneasy and searching eyes, scrutinizing you like there was something wrong. “what do you mean?” it was a sincere and genuine question, totally lost.
his thumb moved up to trace along your skin, his tongue dragging along his dry lips. “there was somethin’ here yesterday, doll,” he reminded you, pressing a little harder on the spot. “how come it disappeared, huh?”
oh. you let a small giggle escape your lips, and moved your head to give him more room to continue whatever his accusatory touch was. “i need to cover it, rafe. my mom would be so fuckin’ furious,” you huffed, a small pout on your lips as it was the tenth time you’d reminded him of this in a month. “y’know i want to keep it, but it’s too visible” and it was true, the neck was such an easy space to look at, to notice every little detail. and you, your parents' sweet little girl, with a hickey? absolutely not. unforgivable. a painful scandal.
rafe clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, shaking his head as he stopped touching your neck. “but i don’t care” his head fell slightly to your shoulder, snuggling into you with his arm around your waist. “i really, really don’t care. your mom would understand” his voice was muffled against you, and you could feel his lips dragging down.
“no, rafe, she would never understand. are you crazy? she’d give me a monologue about how i need to have more decency, and how girls my age—“ your monologue of words that he wasn’t even listening to was interrupted by the feeling of his teeth slowly sinking into your soft skin, making your eyes widen briefly in surprise. the sting was stronger as he moved his head to get closer, his mouth closing further around the chosen piece as he switched from biting and licking to straight sucking. “rafe” you tried to stop him, but your hand on the back of his head only pulled him more closer, betraying your words.
his lips, warm and slow, felt too good — with a deliberation that made you lose your train of thought. you felt the heat growing on your skin, a sensation that mixed neediness and the rational side and thoughts. but rafe’s grip tightened on you anyway, not wanting to stop, everything a contrast to the delicacy of the way he left those marks with his mouth, each bolder than the last.
only when he pulled away you took a shaky breath and you looked up at him with big eyes and red cheeks from embarrassment. “tell me it’s not what i think” you murmured in desperation, but his smirk spoke volumes as he finally looked at the sight he truly liked; your marked up neck, barely any normal skin in sight.
@secretlocket @waitforyrlove @sirenedeslily @freshloveee @sosasturns @zweigsangel @sturn777 @carvedtits @sweetestpoetic @sturniolossss @ilovedanielcaesar @jetaimevous @fallbhind @marrykisskilled @lacysturniolorevamp @mattsturniolover @slxtarchive @bluestriips @alesturniolos @rafespreciosa
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singledad!Sukuna x neighbor!reader-Sukuna and Yuuji really want you to join their family! role reversal from my other series, think this will just be a one-shot though. Yuuji is Sukuna's brother but he's raised him since he was a baby and Yuuji calls him dad.
cw: Sukuna is manipulative and also a murderer but everyone's happy and you're both aware so it's okay. this is really just fluff.
"I....want you to be my mommy?"
Sukuna scowled as Yuuji looked more confused than ever.
"No, no that is not what you're saying kid. You're just going to tell her about how the other kids' mommies on the playground make you feel left out."
"But they don't, Megumi's mommy always gives me a snack when I'm hungry!"
"That's not his mommy, that's Megumi's daddy," Sukuna corrected, wondering if this was just a hopeless endeavor. He could have easily followed a plan this simple when he was four, but Yuuji was too soft. This was what happened when you raised a kid in a stable, loving environment. They lost the ability to go for the jugular when needed.
"But Megumi's daddy calls him mommy?" Sukuna didn't hold back his groan. You were going to be coming back from your morning walk any minute. He didn't have time for Yuuji to not get basic directions or to explain the dynamics of that Gojo family.
"Look when we go out there, just look sad and I'll handle the rest."
"But I'm not sad, I'm happy. We're going to the park and Megumi's mommy is bringing mochi today!"
"Shit kid, do you want a mom or not?" Sukuna asked, trying not to roll his eyes as be bent down to snap on the velcro straps on Yuuji's light up sneakers.
"I don't need a mom, I have you," Yuuji said. He looked uncharacteristically defiant and Sukuna couldn't help feeling proud of his little brother.
It had been touch and go when Yuuji was a baby. Sukuna had still been a kid himself and they didn't have any money and Yuuji's mom was even crazier than Sukuna's. Their father nowhere to be seen. Since Sukuna and Uraume had spread the pieces of his corpse around the city.
Sukuna pushed these memories aside and ruffled Yuuji's hair. "I know you don't need one, we only need each other." Yuuji nodded, his little head moving with all his conviction. "But it might be nice, right?"
Yuuji seemed thoughtful before finally biting his lip and looking down at his sneakers. He tapped them, making the red and black lights flash.
"She's really nice, I like her."
"I like her too," Sukuna said and he heard the sound of your sneakers slapping against the tiled hallway. "So let's go and look sad, okay?" Yuuji nodded, determined now and Sukuna grabbed his backpack before the two brothers went out into the hall.
You were just taking your keys out of your bag and you turned to the brothers, a smile on your face. "Good morning gentlemen, it's nice to see you. Heading out?"
That was when you noticed Yuuji's downturned expression. Sukuna saw your face shift into one of concern and he resisted a smirk.
Sukuna cleared his throat and squeezed Yuuji's hand. Good boy. "We're heading out to the park, you know the one by the high school."
"Oooh, that's nice. You like that park, right Yuuji? You said it was the biggest one in the whole city," you crouched down so you could look Yuuji in the eye and Yuuji seemed to forget he was supposed to be sad for a minute because he jumped up and down, the lights of his shoes flashing in the dim hallway.
"Yeah, it has the best swings too!" You ooohed and aawed appropriately while Sukuna tried not to smack his head against the wall. Maybe he and this kid weren't related after all, fuck.
Yuuji seemed to notice his expression because he stopped jumping to look down at feet. He put out his lower lip and used the tip of one of shoes to mess with a scuff mark on the linoleum. It would have made a more pathetic visage if his shoes weren't still lit up.
"Yuuji," you said, coming closer so you could kneel on the ground in front of the boy. The sight of you on your knees did something to Sukuna, but he pushed it aside to see what the brat had in mind. So far, he wasn't impressed with the performance. "Is something wrong?"
"It's just," Yuuji let out a sad sigh that wouldn't get him a gig in a car commercial. "Megumi and his mommy will be there and it makes me feel sad because all the other kids have mommies and I don't." God, there was no way you could be buying this, Sukuna looked at you and saw that your eyes looked a little watery.
Huh, look at that. Maybe he wouldn't have to kick the kid out, after all.
"I'm sorry Yuuji, that must be hard," you said and you reached out and swiped out where Yuuji had even managed to shed a tear. Sukuna felt so proud. "But I know that your dad is really excited to take you and the two of you are going to have so much fun!"
"Could you come too?" Yuuji asked and you bit your lip. Yuuji looked up and batted his little doe eyes at you. "It would make me really happy if you came with us. We could all have fun together."
"I wouldn't want to intrude-"
"It wouldn't be intruding," Sukuna cut in. "If you're busy though no worries, I know we'll have fun just the two of us. Right, Yuuji?"
Yuuji bit his lip and Sukuna could tell he was torn between showing how excited he was to spend time with his dad and being 'sad' so you would join them.
You looked between the two before seeming to come to some kind of decision. "If you don't mind waiting while I change, I'd be happy to join you two. Should I bring anything?"
"I think we're all set. We'll wait outside for you," Sukuna said and Yuuji went up and gave you a big hug that you returned.
Sukuna took Yuuji outside to wait for you, the kid occupying himself with a mostly washed away hopscotch chalk sketch. Sukuna alternated between watching him and texting Uraume who was claiming to be over him and his nonsense. Sukuna would take it more seriously if Uraume hadn't been saying that for going on twenty years. He knew they loved him, fucking sap.
Soon, but not soon enough, you came bounding down the stairs. A scarf tied around your neck, your turtleneck exposed by the open top button of your coat. He couldn't keep letting you be single, looking all pretty like that. He was too greedy for that.
Besides, looking the way you did and knowing your big heart, it was just a matter of time before some nice loser tricked you into settling with them and he just couldn't have that. The idea of you taking someone else home to your warm apartment with it's million throw blankets and a cookie jar, an actual cookie jar, he was convinced you kept stocked up just for Yuuji, made him want to commit another murder.
"Ready?" you asked and Sukuna nodded while Yuuji took your hand in his right and Sukuna's in his left.
"Let's go!"
Yuuji's enthusiasm was contagious and the two of you chatted all the way to the park. Sukuna saw some people shoot you all looks as you walked. Sukuna was used to people viewing him with suspicion, even fear. His tattoos, dyed hair and general demeanor making people cross the street to avoid him. Something about you and Yuuji seemed to balance him out though and people reacted as if they were just looking at a cute family going out on a Saturday.
You didn't seem to notice either way and just continued talking to Yuuji about some new anime for kids Sukuna had probably had to suffer through but hadn't retained any memory of.
As soon as you all got to the park, Yuuji took off with barely a good-bye. You seemed concerned and Sukuna bumped your shoulder with his. "Don't stress, he just sees the Fushiguro kid over there. See, they're already fucking around."
He pointed to where Yuuji was chasing around a scowling dark haired boy the same age as him. Sukuna didn't buy the scowl for a second.
He had once run into the kid and his weird dads at the grocery store and the kid had scolded him when he figured out Yuuji wasn't with him. Sukuna would have knocked the kid down a peg if he wasn't actually four years old and if his 'mommy' didn't low key give him the creeps. Sukuna was pretty sure he wasn't the only person guilty of homicide currently at this playground.
"That's so cute," you cooed and Sukuna nodded along while he took you over to some picnic tables. Unfortunately one of them was already occupied.
"Aww if it isn't Sukuna. How nice it is to see your lovely face on a Saturday morning!"
"Gojo."
Sukuna was ready to leave it there but then the bastard got up and walked over. His partner continued sipping on a large cup of boba, watching from his seat although he gave you a little wave.
"Who is this, new girlfriend?" Gojo asked tilting down his sunglasses to look you up and down.
You laughed and introduced yourself while Megumi's parents did the same. Gojo grabbed your hand when you held it out and kissed the back of it, his lips curved into a smile even as he lingered, his fingers clearly holding onto where your pulse would be. Sukuna moved closer to you and put a hand around your waist, the gesture a clear sign for the other man to back off which Sukuna knew Gojo understood because the bitch fucking smiled at him.
Sukuna didn't necessarily take any of Gojo's flirtations seriously. He flirted with every mom and dad on the playground, including him when they first met. He'd even seen him flirt with the guy who worked the ice cream truck so egregiously the kid had looked on the verge of passing out. His partner never seemed bothered and Sukuna wondered if he was just that secure in the relationship or if he hoped someone would finally come along and get the annoying man away from him.
As usual though, Gojo lost interest quickly and went back to his husband who didn't say anything as Gojo lay across his lap like some kind of housecat.
"There are children here," Sukuna said. Mostly out of spite and not jealousy that the two of you weren't curled up like that.
"Don't be homophobic," Gojo said and you snorted before looking innocent when Sukuna shot you a look.
"Alright, let's go see what Yuuji's up to." Sukuna went along with your excuse, mostly just because he liked the feeling of your hand in his. The two of you wandered closer to the playground where Megumi and Yuuji were currently engaged in a game with some other kids that Sukuna couldn't have possibly guessed the subject of.
The kids alternated running around the large structure, disappearing into tunnels, jumping down to hide underneath slides and behind climbing walls. Every time Yuuji popped back up to view he would wave and call out to you both. Sukuna still felt a little warm whenever the kid called him dad and the look you gave him after made him feel caught.
"So, I can see why Yuuji was so sad those morning. Megumi's parents are just vicious monsters," you said and Sukuna was so taken aback he knew his expression didn't hide it well. You smiled and swung your hand that was still in his, turning so you could look at him.
"I don't think that's what the issue was," Sukuna managed and you nodded.
"Right, it must have been because he's so lonely," you said before the two of you were interrupted by the sound of children's ecstatic laughter. You both looked to where Yuuji was now being chased by an entire horde of children.
"I'm the curse, you have to catch me," he yelled out and the other children screamed and laughed as they tried to grab him. Yuuji had never had a hard time making friends and that was very evident in the way he got kids of all ages, even the quiet ones to join in on his game.
"You can have friends and still be lonely," Sukuna argued and you gave him just the softest look. It wasn't fair for you to see through his schemes and still look at him like that.
"Are you lonely, Sukuna?" You got closer to him, your hand still got in his and you were so warm. "Maybe I should come home with you, then?"
Sukuna couldn't have stopped himself from kissing you even if he wanted to, which he didn't. He let go of your hand so he could cup your face in both of his palms. You moaned your approval into his mouth and he responded by nipping your upper lip, pulling you up to meet him as he leaned down to kiss you. Sukuna was about to risk another arrest by taking you right here in the park before a familiar voice called out to the both of you.
"Hey now, there's children here."
Sukuna turned to give the infuriating dumbfuck a piece of his mind when you distracted him by pulling him back to you and giving him a quick peck on the lips. He could leave the fight with Gojo for another day, he supposed. He knew he'd win anyway.
You're smiling and you look so happy and Sukuna doesn't feel the least amount of guilt in getting you here. Even if you knew it was a trick.
Although.
Did this mean you knew that all those times he was "stuck at work" and needed someone to watch Yuuji were a lie too? Or that he actually could cook and the one time he set the building fire alarm off had been because he started an actual fire and not just him burning dinner and two of them didn't actually need you to invite them to dinner so much? Did you also know that your radiator hadn't just stopped working randomly but he had broke it, knowing you would call him because your super never answered, and when he said a part was still missing and you would just have to stay the night at his and Yuuji's place-
Sukuna looked at you more closely and you just kept smiling.
As Yuuji called for the two of you to come help him and Megumi on the swings, Sukuna wondered if he had ever trapped you, even once. Or if you had just let him catch you.
Watching you push Yuuji as the boy screamed for you to go "higher, higher!" he decided he didn't care. Fuck, it might just be better. Knowing you were maybe as crazy as he was.
shout out to the dad at the park today who had the audacity to play with his toddler and have a cute dog at the same time.
also I liked the end of this so much I may just write a prequel of Sukuna and reader taking turns gaslighting the other into a relationship, we'll see.
Edit: wrote the prequel, here!
#jjk sukuna#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you
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Bartender Simon, who cuts of a drunk costumer. The costumer is angry and begins insulting Simon, particularly his looks. It doesn't bother Simon but how does Waitress!Reader react?
Alas... the much-awaited ktih
Warnings: making out, groping, dry-humping
It was only seven pm, and Cole was already drunk. Simon knew this would happen - it usually does, at least every Friday night. He comes in, drinks for a solid two hours, until Simon finally has to cut him off and steer him in the direction of his apartment. The man at least lets him add twenty percent auto gratuity if he has to be sent home like that - and, more often than not, it's every week.
Today, however, is a different story.
Cole had come in at four, right when the pub opened. He gave you his usual, tight-lipped smile, making his way to the seat he took every Friday evening. Simon was already pouring his beer by the time he removed his coat. The conversation continues (mostly one-sided on Cole's part), as does the night, and he never ceases to tip the beers back - rattling on about how much money he makes, only getting louder when a group of women walks by.
Around nine at night is when he began to get drunk enough that the numbers on his tab begin to blend together. "A'aight- 'nother one for good fortune." He smacks his empty glass against the bartop, making you jump slightly as you did your tips at the end of the.
"Not tonight." Simon says, hovering over the POS and punching buttons on the screen. "You got 'nuff for good fortune. You can pick it back up next week."
"Bahhh, c'mon - I'll pay double." Cole slurs, leaning over the bar.
"What's your wife's name?" Simon asks, turning back around and leaning against the liquor shelf.
"... Sharon."
"Ya not even married, Cole."
He laughs, eyes glassy as he smacks the bartop and wheezes. "Tha's good! Real good- ya got me. Can't keep a woman 'f I tried."
Simon doesn't comment. He slides Cole's receipt across the bar, before promptly turning back and grabbing a glass.
Cole sighs, crumpling the receipt in his fist. "Y' don't want business?"
"Don't want you gettin' lost findin' your Uber." Simon replies, polishing a glass.
"Y'know..." Cole leans back in his seat, very adamantly refusing to leave, "I know you're strugglin' t' bring in the money with... whatever ya got goin' on behind the mask."
Maybe when he was a lieutenant, constantly dealing with jabs and stabs towards his ego, it would have gotten to him. But Simon just huffs in annoyance. "This what you resort to when you can't get a beer?"
"Defensive much?" Cole bites back. "You could use the money to fix y'r fuckin' face. Should stop bein' such a cunt n' worryin' 'bout me like you're my mum."
"Hardly - your mom probably wishes she'd swallowed you instead."
Simon nearly drops the glass - it takes him a moment to realize that you had spoken, and another one to process just what exactly you had said. He turns around to find you, staring Cole down with the most disgusted, angry expression he's ever seen you display. He's speechless - mostly because he didn't know you had an arsenal of insults, ready to fire off like this.
Cole chuckles drunkenly, turning in his seat to face you from down the bar. "Don' like it when I insult y'r bank account, do ya?"
"Aren't you supposed to be dumpster diving or something?" You snap, getting up out of your seat - Simon's never seen such a look in your eyes, and he quickly steps out from behind the bar to jog over to you. He places a hand on your shoulder, but you don't back down.
"You realize who you're talkin' to, little girl?"
"Draco Malfoy if he'd gone into British Parliament."
"Oi-" Simon snaps, fingers digging into your shoulder - surprisingly, you swat his hand away. You're fuming at this overgrown cabbage, running his mouth like he actually means something to anyone in this pub.
Cole purses his lips; your insults are getting to him. "You gonna do somethin' with this chick?" he asks Simon - who nearly blows a cap, but you beat him to it.
"Y'know, maybe you should spend your money on fixing those fucking teeth - because I see they're still social distancing - instead of wasting our time here, you grey, fucking sprinkle on a rainbow cupcake-"
"Hey- stairwell. Go." Simon gives you a gentle shove towards the stairs, and you throw your hands up and storm off. He stares after you, wide-eyed and tense, watching as you disappear behind the stairwell door. He's quickly growing hard, concerningly, after witnessing you fire off at Cole with a loaded gun full of wit and anger - it was quite possibly the most attractive thing he's seen you do.
Cole huffs, breaking Simon's focus. "Women - sticking their noses where they don't belong." he looks at him, expecting the bartender to agree.
Simon's holding back the urge to drive his fist into the man's skull. He grabs Cole's jacket from the back of the chair and shoves it into his chest so hard he nearly falls from his seat. "If you're not gone in the next ten minutes, Soap 'n I will make you leave, you understand?" he doesn't even wait for a reply, turning on his heel and stalking towards the stairwell, boots thudding heavily against the ground.
He's got bigger priorities at the moment.
You're standing in the stairwell, chewing the edge of your sweater as you stare at the dustpan and broom. Simon can surely fight his own battles - he didn't seem irritated in the slightest by Cole, why did you step in? Simon isn't yours (unfortunately), you don't need to defend him. You don't have the right to defend him other than the fact that he's your coworker. Manager. And you were definitely doing it based on other, unspoken reasons. It was obvious. Is it obvious to him? Forget possibly losing your job, is he going to be mad that you lost your shit like that? That you put your foot where it doesn't belong? That-
The door to the stairwell swings open, and you stop your pacing. His eyes are lidded. Angry? You can't tell. He looks rather intimidating, tall and tense as the door swings shut behind him, mask bunched into his fist as he shoves it into his back pocket.
You think he's about to let you have it, to chew you out for your outburst. "Simon, I'm-"
His rough hands are around your face before you know it - right as you open your mouth to yelp in shock, he leans down and kisses you.
Your eyes force themselves shut. You don't have a chance to pull away, not with his hand cradling the back of your head. He won't let you; you don't want to. His breath fans across your face, fingers calloused yet gentle as they relax around you, and you sigh into his touch, tilting your head to let him get closer. Your arms rest against his shoulders, squeezing the muscle as you feel months of worry and anticipation melt away-
And then, as quickly as it had begun, Simon has the audacity to stop and pull his head back.
His eyes find yours, still cupping your face in his hands. He looks breathless - good. At least you know he's just as riled up as you are, now. There's a hint of pink on his cheeks, and a need for reassurance in his hazy stare. He needs to know he was right, despite the months of flirting and the little chase you've been leading him in; now that he's finally caught up, caught you in his grasp, he needs you to tell him you want this. Though he doesn't know how he'll survive if you don't.
"You ok?" He pants, brow creased with uncertainty.
You let out a noise of frustration - threading your fingers behind his neck, you pull him back down, sealing your lips against his once again.
He exhales through his nose in relief. His hands find your waist as you part your lips, letting him slip inside and explore your mouth. Your fingernails dig crescents into his skin - he lets out a rather needy-sounding groan, backing you up until you hit the wall. You whine; your tongue flicking across his lower lip sends a shiver down his spine, heat building and twisting and tangling in his gut until you break away for a moment, nipping your teeth into his lip.
His mind short-circuits; he grunts, all the blood in his head rushing south to his cock, where it's getting uncomfortably warm and tight. He grabs you underneath your ass and hoists you up, and you squeak, instinctively locking your legs around his hips. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he kisses you feverishly, desire brewing in your stomach as he presses you into the wall, tongues and teeth clashing, the both of you unable to satisfy the ever-growing blaze. It threatens to burn up the stairwell until there's nothing left but a sweaty, naked mess.
Simon breaks away to latch onto your neck, taking the thin flesh and rolling it between his teeth You bite back a whimper, carding your fingers through his hair; he bucks his hips in response, albeit involuntarily. You can sense the knot in your pelvis tightening, underwear growing slick as you feel the size of his erection with each thrust. Even through his clothes, you can tell it would be a challenge, but you've never been one to back down.
Fingers slide under his shirt, feeling the solid wall of muscle and fat beneath - his retracts a hand and drags it up your stomach, kneading and groping your tit through your shirt, silencing your moan with another searing, wet kiss. He's grinding into you now, hips rolling, cock twitching through his pants as you lock your ankles behind his back, and fuck he's ready to strip you bare right here and fuck you against the wall, ready to get back at you for teasing him for so long, ready to listen to your cries as you take each and every rung of his piercing-
He catches himself, lips moving away from yours to kiss along your chin, all the way up to your jaw. He sighs as he stills his hips, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he leans his weight into you. You feel him relaxing, wondering if he's worried about you again, but you so desperately want this to continue where it's heading.
"I'm alright, I'm alright-"
"I know..." he mumbles, his hand sliding back to your thigh and squeezing the flesh there, fingers barely slipping past the hem of your shorts. He wants to go further, to feel the hem of your panties snap against his fingers, but he forces back the urge.
"What's wrong?" you pant, craning your neck to the side to look at him.
"'M not..." he huffs, pulling his head back and gazing down at you. "Not fuckin' you in the stairwell, dove. 'S filthy back here."
Your face heats up even more - the fact that he had to hold himself back from disheveling you right now is an unspoken compliment. "Can we take it upstairs?"
He chuckles and gently sets you down, much to your disdain. "No. Got a bar to run." He says, preening at the way you pout at that. "And I'm takin' you out, first."
"Out?"
"Yea, for lunch."
"Wh- where?"
"You decide. Monday."
Monday - that's deep-clean day. "Don't we have to be here at noon?"
He chuckles. Always worrying about losing your job. "I'll make an exception. Won't fire ya for goin' on a date with me."
Date. God, you could scream. "But what if Price-"
"If that man ever threatens your position at this pub," Simon leans down, gently grabbing your chin between his fingers, "you come to me, n' I'll knock some sense into 'im. Sound good?"
You're too starstruck to register half of what he's said. Simon Riley's just kissed you. AND admitted to wanting to fuck you. Now, he's taking you on a date on Monday. Did you have any plans? Doesn't matter. If you do, they're cancelled.
"Uh huh..." you say, absentmindedly leaning into his touch.
Looking down at you: you, you... god, can he call you his? Is that too soon? The stars in your eyes while you're staring at him, the struggle within himself to avoid both adoration and getting hard(er)... He takes another deep breath, thumb running down the blossoming hickey on your neck.
"Right." he taps your cheek softly, then goes to tuck his shirt back in from where you'd torn it from the waistband. "Go ahead n' take a minute. Come to the bar 'fore you leave."
He grabs the handle to leave, hesitating only for a moment. Both of you seem to have the same idea, sharing a hive mind with each other. You quickly move forward and he leans down as you both kiss again, slower, trying to savor this one. Honey drips from your brain into your chest, every cell in your body screaming in relief, satisfaction, and pure joy...
He breaks away again, laying a kiss to the crown of your head. You sit down on the stairs as he walks back onto the pub floor. He's still hard, and it's plain as day - but he could care less right now. He's got you just as much as you've had him. There's a lightness in his shoulders, a voice in his head that you've finally plucked free and thrown into the abyss, only to be replaced by your own being.
You're still sitting on the stairs, massaging your tits through your shirt as you try to smooth your nipples out. Your mind is racing a million miles a minute. What should I wear? Will Price be upset? Should we try to hide this? Will anyone care? Should I wear perfume or just body spray? Is work going to be weird now? He's not going to treat me differently, is he?
You sigh, biting your lip and trudging up the stairs. Your fingers run over the hickey on your neck. I need to find a whisk.
#bartender ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley#ghost#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost cod#call of duty#cod x reader
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i need more dad!gojo pls 😔🙏🏼
sulking — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: there was an anon that requested this scenario specifically but for some reason I genuinely can't find their ask so anon if you see this, i hope you will like it! <3
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“s/n! get your tiny naked butt over here!”
your son squeals as he waddles away from his chasing dad and goes towards you, “mama!”
“yes, honey?” you reply, before turning towards your son and finding him all naked. at least, he didn’t escape from the tub, since he is still dry.
you giggle and pick him up, “what are you doing you little trouble maker?”
he kicks his feet and points upstairs, “pa!”
“oh, you’re escaping from papa?”
your son nods eagerly, looking around for any sign of said man.
“found you!”
your son squeals and hides his face in the crook of your neck. you pet his hair and look towards your husband who is…also butt-naked. you sigh, “satoru, at least wear your boxers before you chase the kid.”
“aw come on, wifey; it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he smirks, leaning towards you and lovingly kissing your cheek, “plus you deserve a show every once in a while.”
you pinch his nose, making him abruptly pull back with a pout, “if you want to give me a show, don’t do it in front of our son, you over-grown pack of hershey’s.”
“do you mean the cookies and cream one?” satoru says, eyes shining at the mention of one of his favorite snacks.
“yes, and I hate it.”
he gasps audibly, before taking s/n from your arms and into his own, “let’s go, s/n! we shall not tolerate mom’s slander for the hershey’s again!”
and so your husband marches back with his (still butt-naked) son to the bathroom.
satoru sets s/n on the sink, and looks down at the tub, “hey, at least the bathtub is full now,” he puts his hand in the water, “and it isn’t too cold for your small butt.”
s/n gives satoru his angriest look, before looking away with a huff.
satoru chuckles before tickling him, “you’re so cute,” s/n breaks character and starts giggling, and satoru starts cooing, “you act like your mama when I annoy her.”
satoru swiftly picks him up in one arm and points at the stash of bath bombs, “which one do you want to use?” he walks towards the box, and s/n instantly holds it with his strong hands.
satoru laughs, “oh you want all?”
s/n doesn’t respond. instead, he aggressively pulls the box towards him, luckily, satoru is able to hold it in his other hand before it fell.
he looks at his son with a pout, “you were going to create a mess, little guy.”
“mess!” your son claps and your husband can’t find it in him to scold him.
so your husband joins in on his chaos and raises him up high, “yes, big mess!”
your son squeals, reaching for his dad’s cheeks. then he starts rubbing his face on satoru’s the moment he is low enough to reach him.
he starts biting satoru’s cheeks and screams, “love you, baby!”
“love you too, my little buttered cookie,” satoru coos, unfazed by the baby eating him alive. he doesn’t let him linger though as he pulls him off his face, “time for a bath, stinky.”
s/n frowns and tries smacking satoru, but your husband quickly gets into the bath. the moment s/n touched the water, he started clapping and trying to dive deeper into the water.
satoru held him just above the water so he doesn’t fall into the bathbomb-filled water, “nuh-uh, you’re not going to fall face first into the water,” satoru spins s/n so he can settle him into the bath butt-first.
s/n wastes no time in playing with the soap foam and starts splashing everywhere.
your son is sat on the stair of the bathtub—a huge bathtub by the way, satoru specifically ordered this one for other activities though. s/n is beyond the moon and almost treats the little stair like his throne.
your husband can’t stop smiling, to the point his face starts aching, and he starts using the bubbles to form two little cat ears on s/n’s head.
your son’s curiously keeps trying to look up, but starts huffing when he can’t see the top of his head.
satoru then decides that the best solution is—“y/nnnnn! can you come over here with a camera?”
“okayyyy!” he hears you yell and shifts his attention to s/n to keep him entertained until you appear.
he leans down a little, exposing the top of his own head to his son and challenges him, “do your worst.”
your son’s—clearly inherited—competitive nature fuels him into gathering as much as bubbles as he can to place it on his dad’s head.
after that, he starts diligently molding the foam into the shape he had in mind. satoru just keeps on humming quietly, letting s/n do his magic.
once s/n finishes, he retracts his hand and clumsily mimics his dad’s proud pose, and satoru feels happier and happier as he spends time of his little ball of joy.
caught up in his emotions, he picks up s/n to hug him, but s/n slips from satoru’s grasp and into the water.
your husband is panicked right away, hands frantically searching and splashing around to get hold onto anything of his son.
he has half a mind to blast all the water away, but quickly decides against it, especially when he hears a “boo!” behind him.
your husband turns to s/n, who is giggling at finally getting to his father, and hugs him tightly, “papa’s sorry he dropped you, s/n.”
s/n, ever the empath, starts imitating what he see you and satoru do when the other is sad: he starts patting his dad’s back with a murmur of “’s ‘kay.”
satoru thinks he is going to sob right then and there, but you finally enter the bathroom, and satoru and s/n quickly perk up at your presence.
“mama!”
“wifey!” satoru grins and starts scrambling to make a new pair of cat ears on s/n.
and so you’re met with one of the cutest sights of your baby that you have ever seen. he is beaming with a smile so contagious that you don’t even notice one being instantly on your face.
he is also sporting a pair of bubble cat ears, so, of course, you get out your phone and start snapping away.
“s/n, look at mama!”
“yay!”
after a couple of photos, you hear someone clear his throat, and you look to your side to see a very pouty satoru. he huffs and looks away from you, “imagine ignoring the love of your life for a small mochi.”
“we made this small mochi, ‘toru.”
“exactly!” he declares then locks eyes with you, “that means I am the original and I should be appreciated more, anyway—what do you think of his cat ears?”
your husband’s tone switches almost instantly and starts fangirling about s/n, taking him into his arms and lightly bouncing him on knee, “he is so cute! almost as cute as me, right?!”
“you’re so right! he is the cutest cutie to ever exist!” you coo, arms reaching out to s/n, and your son throws himself into your arms with no hesitation.
you secure in your hold before chuckling, “you’re mama’s cute boy, right?”
you feel satoru stare daggers at your soul, but ignore him for the time being, “did you actually shower or do anything to clean, s/n? you smell stinky.”
your son frowns at that and buries his face in your shoulder to sulk. you stifle a giggle and question your husband about something that has been on your mind since you entered, “also, satoru—“
he perks up.
“—what is that blob of bubbles on your head supposed to be?”
and that, my friend, is how you got stuck in the bathtub with your two boys, each burying their face into your shoulders and—you guessed it—sulking.
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#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo imagine#jjk x you#jjk imagines#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#jjk x y/n#jujustu kaisen x reader#jujustu kaisen x you#jjk gojo x y/n#jjk gojo x you#jjk gojo x reader
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Into the Penalty Box
Pairing: Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: N/A
Summary: Jack has to put your son in the sin bin...
Notes: Short but I had this really fun idea for how Jack doles out consequences as a dad.
Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)
Writing Masterlist
"Jack, baby...Carter just bit Ellen." You're tugging Carter along behind you by the wrist gently, he's pouting at the entire way and dragging his feet. Ellen is in your arms sniffling and crying into your shoulder because her big brother (at the tender age of 5 years old) decided that the best way to get rid of his 'annoying' baby sister (of 2) was to bite her. Hard. On the arm.
"Let me see, baby girl." Your daughter holds her arm out to her dad, who's suitably sympathetic, cooing over the teeth marks and pressing a kiss there to 'make it better'. It brings a smile to her little face, tears starting to dry up, but leaving blotchy redness behind.
Once Jack has dealt with the issue of his baby girl crying he turns to his son who you've release your grip on knowing he's unlikely to make a run for it and has typically been pretty good at accepting punishment. Mostly because he's stubborn enough that he always wants to plead his case first.
Jack folds his arms across his chest looking down at the spitting image of himself at 5 years old, light brown near blonde curls, bright blue eyes, chubby blushing cheeks and many missing teeth. Carter is Jack, rowdy, loud, full of energy and from time to time fed up with having a baby sibling who wants his attention all the time. One day he'll grow to love it, hate when his sister stops idolising him, but for now? For now apparently biting has become his new solution and Jack had always taught him that biting was not something they did in their house.
You bounce Ellen in your arms, running a hand over her hair and down her back while you watch Jack crouch down to Carter's level. Jack, despite people's belief, was a disciplinarian. Just not in the usual way...he never shouted, he didn't scream, he didn't insult the kids, none of the typical old school dad stuff, but what he did do always seemed to work.
"Bud, you can't bite your sister."
"But she was being annoying!" It's like watching a second Jack, the way Carter folds his arms across his little chest and puffs out his cheeks as he pouts. You're surprised he didn't stomp a foot on the floor, but it seems he learnt from last time that that only got him more penalty minutes.
"I don't care, it's against the rules, bud, against the code. You've got 5 minutes in the penalty box, get." Jack points to the corner of your living room where the penalty box sits. At first the penalty box had been simply a pillow in the corner, but one summer Jack, Quinn and Luke had spent some time and money making a replica penalty box that sat perfectly in your living room. At first you'd been...less than pleased, but now it was the highlight of your parenting adventures. The way Carter would slam the little door closed, how he'd pout on the bench and drink from the water bottle you always put in there for him as he'd watch the little clock. Whenever he was in hockey gear it was made even better, especially the replica Devils Jersey Luke had gotten him one Christmas. Then it really was like watching a baby Jack sitting in the sin bin.
"But you bite mom!" Carter's face practically goes bright red with his frustration, brows so furrowed they're almost in his eyes and this time he does stomp his feet.
There's a beat of silence, one in which you do your very best not to laugh because Jack's play biting apparently has come back to haunt him. All those times he's come home and pretended to take chomp out of your arm or neck, every time he placed a kiss on your neck in front of Carter only to bite you lightly to make you laugh...
Jack tries everything in his power to remain stern, to not laugh, to not give in because fuck, he's really dug himself a hole with this one, "I nibble on your mom, I don't 'bite' her and I never hurt her. You were trying and succeeded in hurting your baby sister."
"Dad!"
"Do you want another 5 for unsportsmanlike conduct?" Jack's favourite tool whenever Carter or Ellen start to argue back to him, although mostly Carter. Ellen has yet to reach the terrible period of defiance that all toddlers go through.
"No..."
"So into the penalty box, bud." You both watch as Carter slumps off towards the box, slamming the door closed behind him, the wood and plastic wobbling slightly under the force of it.
He sits on the bench, arms crossed, glaring at the clock. Jack sets a timer for 5 minutes and you watch. There's something about watching either of the kids in the box that's interesting because you can see the moment they start to cool down and realise that maybe they're in there for a reason.
With Carter it's the way he starts to look towards Ellen, face scrunched up in guilt, biting on his little lip. You know at 2 minutes and 24 seconds in the sin bin, that Carter will never bite Ellen again and you know that he understands that he hurt her, really hurt her.
It's what has you putting her down and letting her waddle towards the box nearer to the time being over and what has you opening the box a minute early.
You lean into Jack's side and watch as Carter leans down and pulls his baby sister into a hug, before reaching for her arm and placing a kiss on the boo boo where he bite her a little too hard.
"'m sorry, Ellie. I shouldn't have bit you."
"'s okay, Cay-Cay" Because she always struggled to fully say Carter so he'd become Cay-Cay to her. She pats his cheek with her little hand and you know, you know it'll be okay, that you're raising two good kids even if they have their moments.
"Sin bin works again, and you wanted to get rid of it." Jack looks smugly down at you, all dimples and stupidly attractive smirk as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.
You roll your eyes at him even as you lean further into him, "Yes, well, I guess you have good ideas sometimes...biter."
"Hey! You love when I bite you...just, maybe need to avoid the jokes around the kids...did not see that coming."
#huggy bear#going to do this when i have kids#jack hughes/reader#jack hughes x reader#nhl imagine#nhl x reader
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How Steve Harrington Gets a Family
The first time it happened, Steve didn’t remember. He had no idea why Hopper was acting so weird until Joyce took him aside, sighing softly.
“Oh, honey,” she murmurs. “You don’t remember, do you?”
He frowns at her. “Remember what?”
“You called him dad, Steve.”
“I-” he gapes. “What?”
It goes like this.
He’d been hospitalized, after the Russians; he doesn’t know all the details, won’t for years, but Hopper had escaped from the reactor, thrown his weight—and title—around until someone had put Steve in a room, in a bed, gotten an IV into him, run whatever tests doctors run.
He was delirious with the truth serum still in his system and the adrenaline wearing off, groaning in pain and mumbling nonsense.
Hopper had put a hand on his head, said, “I’ve got you, Steve. You’re safe. It’s okay.”
“Dad,” Steve had mumbled, shifting into Hopper’s hand, and promptly passed out.
“Oh,” Steve whispers after Joyce tells him. He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, no shit he’s been acting weird, I mean why would he want me as a kid- shit, I need to apologize-”
“Whoa,” Joyce says seriously, hands on his shoulders. “Slow down, Steve. You know Hopper loves you, right?”
Steve bites his lip on the snark that wants to come out, instead choosing to just blink at her.
“Christ,” Joyce laments, “I’m going back to school, everyone need so much damn therapy.” She takes a breath and looks Steve in the eye. “Hopper loves you, Steve. He’s considered you his kid for a long time now.”
Steve gapes at her. “No he hasn’t!”
Joyce raises a brow. “Uh-huh. And how many parties has he busted, exactly? And how many marks do you have on your record?”
Steve snaps his mouth shut. “Oh, shit,” he whispers, looking up at Joyce. “He- he does? Really?”
“Really,” Joyce confirms, pulling him into a hug.
“Oh,” he mumbles, before letting himself enjoy the hug.
Later, when he’s about to head home, he stops in front of Hopper, glancing nervously over to Joyce, who nods encouragingly. “Can I, uh. Talk to you? For a second?”
Hopper narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Steve’s eyes widen. “No, nothing! Just-” he sighs, runs a hand through his hair, gestures Hopper out the door and around the side of the house. “So, Joyce and I were talking, right? And I was wondering why you’d been acting weird around me, and I didn’t even remember what I said in the hospital, so Joyce told me, and- and I don’t expect anything from you! At all! And it- how I feel doesn’t have to change anything-”
“Christ,” Hopper says, but he’s smiling. “I think you’re worse at emotions than I am.”
“Well I’ve never had to tell anyone I think of them as more of a father figure than my own father before!” Steve blurts out, then freezes.
Hopper bursts out laughing. “Jesus, kid, do you think before you talk?”
Steve’s not hurt. Really. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking anywhere but at Hopper. “I’ll leave.”
A hand on his wrist stops him. “C’mere, kid,” Hopper says, pulling him into a hug.
Steve stiffens. “What?”
“Boy, you’ve been my kid since the third time I didn’t write you up for one of those damn parties,” he grouses.
Steve relaxes into the hug. “So. If I, uh. Were to, maybe, call you dad again…”
“Just see what I’ll do if you don’t,” Hopper says gruffly, and it’s really not that funny but Steve’s just so relieved that he cracks up anyways.
They pull apart after a minute, and Steve has a giddy grin on his face as he backs up. “Bye, Dad,” he says, before turning and running to his car. Hopper’s laughter follows him.
He’s been close to Dustin for a while now, but still refuses to call his mom Claudia. The most he’ll do is Mrs. H, even though every time she sees him, she tries to get him to call her by her first name.
He can’t do it. He can’t make himself. Maybe it’s the manners instilled in him, maybe he’s just awkward as fuck, who knows. But he chickens out every time.
That’s why, when she answers the door, he smiles. “Hey, Mrs. H.”
“Steve,” she greets him warmly. “Come in, come in. Call me Claudia. Oh, what is this? I told you you don’t have to bring anything!”
“Just some cookies,” he promises her, putting them down where she directs and falling into the hug she gives him.
“Dear,” she asks him later, when they’re sitting at the table with Dustin, “call me Claudia, please?”
Steve can’t look at her; passes the butter Dustin’s silently asking for. “Sorry, Mrs. H.”
“Jesus,” Dustin groans, buttering his roll. “If you can’t even say her name then at least call her mom.”
Steve’s cheeks are on fire. “That’s not exactly up to me, Dust,” he grits out.
“Oh, dear,” Claudia sighs. “I would love for you to call me mom.”
“Then we’d be brothers,” Dustin adds, “which we basically are anyways.”
Steve snorts. “I don’t think that’s exactly how it works,” he tells Dustin, but takes a breath and smiles at Claudia. “Thanks, Mom,” he says quietly. Claudia beams back at him.
“I don’t give a damn!” Claudia yells at the hospital receptionist, who really just looks exceedingly bored.
Steve knows the look of someone who’s grabbing their pepper spray. “Mom?” He calls, wet and wobbly, and Claudia spins around, running to his side.
“Oh, Stevie,” she murmurs, gently cupping his hands. “Oh, goodness, your face- have you gotten looked at? Has someone come to see you? Where’s Dustin?”
Steve opens his mouth to answer and promptly bursts into tears. “He’s f-fine,” he manages. “Ankle. Getting- getting helped. But- Mom-”
She hushes him, pulling him down into a seat next to her. “Let it out, Steve, there you go. Mom’s here, I’ve got you.”
He finally composes himself enough to pull back and look at her. “It’s not good, Mom,” he whispers. “I tried, I really did, and I know CPR but he was losing so much blood-”
“Steve,” she stops him, “I thought you said Dustin was fine?”
“He is, it’s just his ankle, but Eddie, Mom… he’s back there, they’re doing surgery, but he- I felt-” he grabs at his own chest, and somehow Claudia knows what he means. “Oh, dear,” she murmurs, pulling him into another hug. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers into his ear. “You did what you could, you kept him stable until the doctors could do their job, and now it’s their turn, okay? Let them take care of it. They’re gonna do everything they can.”
His eyes well up again. “He didn’t kill anyone, Mom.”
“Oh, I know that, sweetie. It’s okay. I never thought he did.”
“But they do!” He sniffs, wipes at his face. “And what- what if-”
She pulls his attention back to her with a hand on his face. “Did I tell you about the time a known serial killer came in?” She whispers. He shakes his head. “He’d been in an… altercation, with the police. Shots had been fired. We all knew who he was, but when he flatlined on the table, we got his heart beating again.” She grips his hand tightly. “Doctors take an oath, Steve. They’re going to do everything they can. Okay?”
“Okay,” he mumbles, letting her pull him into another hug.
“Y’wanna tell me about Eddie?”
“You know Eddie.”
“Mhm, from Dusty. I’ve never heard about him from your perspective before.”
“I didn’t really know him before today,” he admits. “I knew of him, in high school, a little bit, but then I graduated and he didn’t and then Dustin started raving about him and… I got jealous.”
“Oh, Steve.” She cards a hand through his hair. “You know Dustin will always love you. You’re brothers.”
Steve sighs. “I know, but… we’re also not. I love you more than I love the woman who birthed me, and I love Dust as much as I’d love any biological sibling I could ever have, but-”
“I know,” Claudia says. “It’s okay, dear. Keep going. Tell me about Eddie.”
“Right. So I got jealous, and then I really didn’t wanna meet him, ‘cause he actually sounded kinda cool and I’m just… me. And I know what you’re gonna say, but you’re biased as my mom.” Claudia just chuckles. “But then I met him, and… he’s really nice, Mom. He really loves the twerps. And he’s, like… kind? And I know nice and kind are synonyms but it’s different. Like he’s just… an inherently good person. That’s kind. Nice you can fake. But you can’t fake kind. Y’know?”
“I know what you mean,” she agrees.
“Okay, good. Well he’s kind. He-” Steve sniffs. “He called me a good dude.”
“Well,” Claudia says, smiling, “you are.”
Steve chuckles wetly. “I am now, maybe, but I wasn’t when we knew each other in high school, and I didn’t really expect him to say anything. And he’s so passionate, Mom, and he’s talented, and he’s selfless, but that backfired because it landed him here-”
Claudia hums, strokes a hand through his hair. “How long have you liked him?” He stiffens. “Oh, please, like I haven’t known this entire time. Honestly, Steve, I’m not an idiot. And I’m not some backwards idiot especially who thinks two boys who love each other are the greatest sin.”
“No, it- Mom, you love Robin, of course you’re fine with it, I just- I didn’t… I didn’t realize.”
“Oh, Stevie,” she sighs, running her hand through his hair again. “When he gets out, are you gonna do something about it?”
“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “Maybe. If- if he even wants to be friends-”
“Okay, now I know you’re talking crazy,” she teases him, grinning.
Just then Hopper walks in, looking around with wide eyes, stopping when he sees Steve. “Dad!” Steve yelps, standing and walking quickly towards him, stopping about three steps in. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters, because he knows the way the room is spinning and his vision is going out.
He’s out before he hits the ground.
He wakes up later to find he didn’t hit the ground, actually; Hopper had leapt forward and caught him the second he’d stopped walking and started swaying.
He blinks bleary eyes open and finds himself looking at a ceiling tile. “What-”
“Don’t move,” comes Hopper’s voice from beside him.
He turns his head to frown at him. “Dad? What happened?”
“You passed out. Jumped outta Claudia’s arms like she’d burned you when you saw me. Much as I love you, kid, the parent’s gotta go first this time, ‘kay? No more self-sacrificing bullshit and not getting medical attention when you need it.”
“M’kay,” Steve says. “Sorry, Dad.”
Hopper puts a hand on his head. It’s comforting. “Go to sleep, kid.”
When he wakes up again, he’s more lucid. He looks around, sees Claudia asleep in the chair next to him. Looks on his other side, and his breath catches when he sees Eddie. His eyes are closed, he’s still asleep, but he’s alive.
“Mom,” he whispers, tearing his eyes away from Eddie to look at her. He feels bad, a little, waking her, but only a little because he knows she’d tear him a new one if he didn’t. “Mom.”
She starts awake and tears up when she sees him. “Stevie,” she murmurs, cradling his face with her hand.
“Mom,” he says again. “He’s here.”
Claudia chuckles. “You can thank your father and I for that one. We raised hell.”
“I bet you did,” he says appreciatively.
“And you, young man,” she says, too full of love to really be mean, “next time you tell me when you’ve been half eaten, okay? Or have you forgotten I’m a nurse?”
“Didn’t forget,” he murmurs, nudging her hand with his face. “Just wanted to stay with you.”
“Oh, Steve,” she murmurs. “You beautiful boy.”
He falls asleep again.
He wakes up again later and looks over to see Eddie also awake, and also looking at him. “Eddie,” he breathes.
It’s hard to tell from where he is, but it looks like Eddie’s blushing. “Looks like I’ve got you to thank for saving my life.”
Now Steve’s blushing. “Ah,” he eloquently says. “No, I mean, just- what anyone else would do?”
“Are you asking me?”
Oh, god, is he teasing? Steve barely survived the flirting before, but now there’s nothing else to keep his attention off Eddie, nothing else he can blame the blush on. “…I just didn’t do much,” he belatedly says.
“Bullshit.” He shifts and hisses in pain. “Fuck, those bastards got me good. But that- that’s proof, y’know?”
Steve blinks. He doesn’t know. “What?”
Eddie grins at him. The stitches in his cheek pull, but don’t tear. “That you saved me.”
Abruptly, Steve tears up. He looks away, up at the ceiling, wills the tears to stay inside. “Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you-”
“No,” he answers quickly. Too quickly. There’s an awkward silence now. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I- I felt your heart stop, okay?” He looks over again, knows the tears are there, knowing they’re leaking into his hairline and across the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t sure the doctors were even gonna try that hard to save you. And now you’re joking with me, and-” he takes a quick breath, holds it. Releases it slowly. “‘M just glad you’re okay,” he finally says.
“Oh,” Eddie says quietly. “I, uh. Didn’t think you really… cared. About me.”
“I think I care more than I should.”
Eddie takes a breath. “I’m about to say something way too brave, and I’m only saying it ‘cause we’re both in hospital beds and I’m assuming you can’t just, like, walk over and punch me.”
“Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. But, uh. Anyways. I don’t… people don’t care about me. My uncle Wayne does, sure, and the kids, but that’s different, and- well. I’ll take whatever care you wanna give me. It won’t be too much.”
“Okay,” Steve says, “well I definitely don’t want to punch you for that, what the hell, but I hope you know you’re gonna get hugged for that as soon as I figure out how to undo all this shit.” He gestures to the tubes in his arms, and Eddie starts to laugh, then stops just as quickly with a hiss.
“Okay, abs got eaten, no laughing,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Shit, dude, stay in bed, you had like five people in here earlier who all told me specifically to not let you out of bed, though how I’m supposed to do that I dunno.”
Steve blinks over at him. “Five?”
“Well- four, now that I count. Dustin was here with his mom, he’s getting released later but was allowed out of bed for a minute and came to see us. Robin, and she looked angry, are you two, like, okay?”
Steve snorts. “Yeah, she’s just worried.”
“And then Chief Hopper, which- do you wanna explain why the actual Chief of Police was in here?”
“Ah,” Steve says, and blushes again. “He kinda, like… adopted me? Not officially, obviously, but he’s… well, I call him dad, so-”
“And Claudia?”
Steve hums. “‘S my mom. Dust’s my brother.”
Eddie snorts. “Jesus, Harrington, d’you just go around collecting people to call your parents? How many d’you have now, four?”
“Nah, just two. My parents fucked off pretty permanently by the time I was nine. And before that I had nannies when they were gone.”
Eddie blinks at him. “You- wait. Back up. You’ve been alone for the entirety of high school?”
Steve thinks. “I mean, I had Hopper, kinda, but that was before he became Dad, so… I guess?”
“Goddamn,” Eddie whispers wonderingly. “And you’re still sane?”
Steve snorts. “Jury’s out on that one, I mean I do willingly hang out with the twerps, so-”
“Fuck, don’t make me laugh, man.” He sighs. “I get it, though,” he says quietly. “Mom was an angel, but… Dad got to her, y’know? Tore her wings off, rubbed her halo in the dirt. Poured alcohol down her throat until she was dependent on it. And him. And when she-” he shakes his head. “Then it was just Dad, and he got sent away ‘cause apparently his new car wasn’t his, y’know? And I went to live with Wayne at twelve.”
“But now you’ve got Wayne.”
“Mhm.” He smiles a little. “Call ’im pops sometimes, ‘cause he’s my real dad now. Sometimes Wayne, sometimes Uncle Wayne. He doe’n’t care much.”
“What’s it like? Living with him?”
“It’s been a dream, honestly. He’s the nicest person I’ve ever met, and he’s got patience to rival a saint. Doesn’t care when I play my music loud, or forget to eat, or bring boy—uh, girls—over.”
Steve hums. “There’s still the house in Loch Nora, but I stay with the Hendersons most days. I tend to bring people I meet to Loch Nora, just ‘cause it’s empty, y’know? I mean, Dust’s a little shit, and he’d tease me regardless of who I brought home. Mom wouldn’t care. Hell, she’d probably give me a condom and lube,” he laughs. “And she’s teaching Dustin to be the same way. He’ll get there one day.”
“He’s a twerp,” Eddie agrees. “I didn’t know you, uh-”
“Mhm,” Steve answers. “Robin says I’m like Bowie.”
“Like Bowie- you’re bisexual?”
“That’s the one!” Steve says happily. “I can never remember the name.”
Eddie looks at him wonderingly. “Who are you, Steve Harrington?”
Eventually they get out of the hospital, and eventually they stop circling around each other. Eventually they kiss, and fall asleep on the couch, and make each other breakfast, and do certain things behind closed doors that Steve still can’t think about without blushing.
Eventually they’re outside the Munson’s trailer, working in the garden that Eddie, surprisingly, loved.
“Imma go in,” Steve says eventually. “Get a drink.”
“Alright,” Eddie says, not looking up from where he’s pulling weeds near his tomatoes. “I’ll be here.”
Steve has a bit of a headache already, and he knows drastic temperature changes don’t help. He didn’t think the trailer was that big of a difference, but it’s cool enough he’s got goosebumps breaking out along his arms almost immediately. Then he’s hit with a blast of freezing air when he opens the fridge, and his head begins to throb. “Fuck,” he mutters, shutting the door and grabbing for a glass, hoping the sink water isn’t too cold.
It’s cooler than he’d like, but it’s all he’s got right now, and he knows if he doesn’t hydrate it’s going to end up worse. He chugs two glasses, sets the cup down, and goes to sit at the table, rubbing his eyes.
It gets worse almost without him realizing: one second his relatively fine, the next he’s groaning in pain, trying to block out all the light by laying his head on his forearm.
A hand on his back startles him. “Dee?”
“Wayne,” comes the gruff voice. “Not Eddie. Y’got a migraine?”
“Mhm.”
“Y’take anything for it?”
Steve waves a hand. “Had water.”
Wayne leaves for a minute, comes back and presses two pills into Steve’s hand. A glass of water is placed in front of him.
He takes the pills, squinting, and lays his head back down.
“Nuh-uh,” Wayne says, “up you get, c’mon, you’re sleepin’ this off.” Hands at his shoulders guide him out of his seat, shuffle him slowly down the hall to Eddie’s cool, dark room. Lay him down and pull the blankets over him.
Steve sighs and relaxes into the bed, cracking an eye open to look at Wayne. “Thanks, Pops,” he murmurs, then winces when Wayne freezes. “S’rry. Wayne.”
Wayne pets a hand through Steve’s hair. “Pops works just fine,” he says. “I’ll tell Ed you’re in here.”
“M’kay,” Steve breathes, and lets himself fall asleep.
They’re at Hopper’s cabin, an annual We Saved the World semi-party that usually ends in at least one disagreement.
Eddie’s got most of the kids corralled away in the living room, with promises of an epic one-shot. The adults, Steve, Max, and El are in the kitchen.
He doesn’t know who started it, but someone teases him, and Hopper ruffles his hair with another jab. “Dad,” he complains good-naturedly, laughing.
“Steve?” El asks.
“Yeah?” He looks at her.
“Hopper is your dad.”
Steve glances at Hopper, who’s listening, but making no move to answer. “I mean… not, like, biologically, but yeah.”
“Me too,” El says. “Are you my brother, then?”
Steve flounders. “I- I guess if you want me to be?”
“You’re a good brother to Dustin,” she answers. “I haven’t had any good brothers besides Will, and we are the same age. I would like a good older brother.”
He smiles, tugs her into a hug. “I guess I’m your brother, then.”
She goes willingly. “Does that mean Joyce is your mom too?” She looks up at him, big eyes serious. “She is a good mom.”
“Uh,” Steve says, “that’s kinda up to Joyce.”
“Oh, honey,” Joyce says, because of course everyone had stopped talking the moment El had started. “Why don’t you call me Mama J?”
Steve smiles bashfully, accepting her hug. “Sounds good to me.”
When he tells Eddie later, his boyfriend laughs. “You really do collect parents!”
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#dustin henderson#claudia henderson#jim hopper#wayne munson#joyce byers#el hopper#steve keeps accidentally getting adopted#He’s not mad about it#starambles
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Stuffing to Give
warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, AGE GAP, reader has an asshole family, hickeys (brief mention), cumming inside, Yunho bites once, clothe tearing, no protection, size kink if you squint, Yunho says 'young pussy', stomach bulge mention
3.5k words
notes! sorry I've been gone, life or whatever. buuutttt happy holidays! this fic took me too long but for being in a drought, I'm proud of it. hope you enjoy :) (divider from @/anitalenia) tag! @desirehorizon
“You know, you should be looking for a husband. Not worrying about your classes or anything like that. No man likes a woman too smart for her own good.”
It was your mom who opened the can of worms during Thanksgiving. The air was already uncomfortable being that distant family who were more like strangers sat at the dinner table, but mentioning that you’ve been single for so long, at such an ‘old age’, made everything a thousand times worse.
You’re not even old. Some would argue being in your mid-20s was still very young.
But no matter how much you’ve tried to defend yourself. No matter how many times you said you just wanted to focus on furthering your education, your aunts and uncles pressed one and one thing only.
Your uncle lifted his fork to his greasy lips, the white meat of the turkey forcing itself into his already stuffed mouth. “Y’know, your youth will only last you for so long. You’ll end up an old cat lady and regret not settling down.”
Regret. You hate that word, as if these people know anything about you, let alone have a right to say how you should live. The food you're trying to swallow feels too big for your throat. There’s a burning in your chest. A feeling you’ve tried desperately to suppress since the holidays started.
Anger. Hate. Hurt. Disgust. Fear.
You don’t want to be here anymore.
Dramatically, you throw your fork on the table. The silverware clatters harshly against your plate and bounces until it lands on the other side of the table. The chatter stops immediately, all eyes on you as you stand so quickly the chair topples to the ground.
A pin could drop and it would echo in the quiet room.
“You know what? Fuck this. Fuck you. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with me getting knocked up. It’s fucking weird. Get off my dick.”
Aunts gasp. Some Uncles laugh. But your mom, her eyes are so wide and shocked as if she wasn’t the one who started this whole issue and didn’t do anything to defend you.
Her own daughter.
“And you.” You look at her, but it’s hard when your vision blurs. “When I do find a husband, and when I do have kids, don’t expect to hear from me.”
Voices call your name as you turn away. Someone tries to hold you back by the forearm, but you tear from their grasp. Your only goal is to get the fuck out of there, heading for the front door and slamming it on your way out.
It’s cold. A gentle breeze blows your hair as you turn to the side of the house. The crunch of leaves sounds on the ground therapeutically. You can’t help but look at the pretty orange and brown beneath your feet. It’s the only thing keeping your frustrating tears from falling.
But you don’t see that there’s already someone at the side of the house with your gaze on the ground. You forget how close the houses are in this neighborhood.
“Bad day I take it?”
You lift your head, surprised to see someone already at your spot. The sun is setting despite the early hours. The only thing illuminating his face are the porch lights. His cheekbones are high. His brown hair is decorated with a few gray strands, framing his handsomeness perfectly. His lips curve into a smile, but more friendly than humorous.
Shit, you’re staring. “Oh you know, just family butting in when they shouldn’t.”
He grins at that. “Ah, good ol’ holiday joy. I can’t stand them either. Pretending they know me when they don't.”
Relief settles on your shoulders. At least you aren’t alone. “I know right? They change my diaper once and suddenly think they know what’s good for me.”
The man laughs. His smile lines deepen at his lips and his eyes close for a brief moment. You smile at him.
“I know the feeling all too well.” He studies you when he opens his eyes again, gaze dropping to your nylon-covered legs and the cut of your dress. He travels up to your face smoothly. “What was your name?”
It takes a second for the effect of his gaze to fade, but you manage to tell him. “I’m studying Chemistry right now. On my way to getting a Masters.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh wow! That’s really impressive! You look too young to have all that under your belt already.”
His compliments make you burn. “Oh, thank you. I just study hard.” You tuck a strand of hair that blows annoyingly in your face. “And you are...?”
“Yunho.”
You furrow your eyebrows together. “You know? No, I don’t think I do.”
He looks just as confused, but then realization settles on his face and he laughs again. This time, he clutches his stomach and bends over, getting close to your bubble. Not that you mind, you like the smell of his light, earthy cologne.
“No- not ‘you know.’ Yunho. Y-U-N-H-O.”
That smile is still on his face when it clicks in your mind. You feel your face burn from embarrassment, covering your mouth with cold fingers. “Oh my god. I’m such an idiot. Yunho. Okay, I get it.”
You’re still burning when he chuckles again, deep and velvety. “No worries. I think that’s the first time that’s happened to me.”
The two of you laugh once more before you settle into silence. The quiet doesn’t last long when he asks, “So why are you out here? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Maybe it’s the warm, pleasant feeling in your stomach from talking to Yunho, but you don’t have an ounce of hesitation in telling him. “My family has always bugged me about starting a family. The moment I graduated high school, it’s like the only thing I’m good for now is popping out babies.”
Yunho scoffs. His jaw clenches attractively and you hate how your legs press together upon the sight.
“I know completely where you’re coming from. Trust me, that nagging never goes away. I’m already well above my prime and my brothers still bother me about finding a wife. With all this gray hair? I don’t think the ladies would want an old man like me.”
A demon must possess you because you speak before you can even think. “What? Yunho, I know we just met, but you’re like…very attractive. Finding a wife won’t be hard for you, even if you think you’re old.”
The lift of his eyebrow says it all. He’s shocked, at the very least. He stands straighter, towering over you. You hadn’t realized he was leaning against the wall to appear smaller, but his height stuns you.
He cocks his head to the side. “You think so?”
It takes a moment to gather your thoughts. His defined chest shows through his black turtleneck, nipples pebbling in the cold. His lithe arms wrap over his chest, adding to the clothed cleavage. If his upper body looks this good underneath clothes, you can’t even imagine anything less.
“I…” Fuck it. “Yeah. I do. You’re tall, handsome, fit, and some chicks dig older guys.”
He scoffs a little, but it’s more from embarrassment than pride. His full cheeks blush further and you know it’s not from the cold. If you manage to play your cards right, you can ditch your family dinner for a different type of feast.
Yunho’s smile turns darker, more sinister as he looks down at you through his bangs. “Oh yeah? What type of chicks?”
“If you want to get specific, maybe the one standing in front of you.”
His grin deepens. Bingo.
-
His car is nice. Like, really nice. The seats are leather and he's got interior lights that shine when he opens the passenger car door for you.
What a gentleman.
But it’s his flat that impresses you the most. The ones you see are usually in the movies, either too small for any average person to live in or big enough for a whole town. Yunho has the latter.
You want to compliment him. Or more so, ask what type of job he has to afford all this space, but the large hands on your back push you to the bedroom and remind you why you’re here in the first place.
He doesn’t bother closing the door when you two make it to his room. Yunho cranes his neck down, lips ghosting over your own before he finds your neck instead. You lean to one side, hands going up his back trailing to his hair that you intertwine with your fingers. His mouth is so warm on your cold skin. It has you shaking for a brief moment before you get used to his heat.
Yunho starts with pecks. His lips feel plush and delicate, causing your flesh to rise with goosebumps. He moves to the center of your neck and kisses there too, but just when your eyes are starting to flutter shut and your mouth opens to sigh, he bites.
You gasp instead. “Ah! Yunho!”
He doesn’t pull away from your throat, but you can feel his body jolt with giggles. He presses his kisses harder where his teeth marked you, a tiny apology you grow wet from. The two of you are still standing mere inches from the bed, but you don’t want to part from him. Yunho’s leg fits perfectly snug between your thighs and though you aren’t grinding, your cunt likes the warmth it provides.
But you can feel it throbbing. The aching for any tiny movement, but you force yourself still save for how you keep pressing yourself against him.
Yunho makes you feel so small. His hands feel as if they could hold you easily, and they seem to do that with your lower back. Long fingers dig into your skin, and it doesn’t take long for his hands to travel further down until he finds the fat of your ass.
He takes a moment to stop giving you hickeys and groans into your shoulder. “So fucking soft. Your ass looks so good in this dress.” He swipes his tongue from your collarbone to the place below your ears. Your nipples harden almost immediately, the wetness makes you cold for a moment.
“You should see how it looks without it on.”
Challenge sparks in his eyes when he raises his head to look at you. All it takes is a reassuring nod from you before he pulls away almost completely, save for the hands squeezing your ass.
“On the bed then. Let me see.”
You smile and pry his hands off you, lifting your dress above your hips, but not off your body completely. You turn around for Yunho to face your back, hands finding the bed so you crawl on the bed for him to see. Your knees are on the edge, but finding balance is easy when you arch, wiggling your ass in the air.
The nylons are still on, but the see-through fabric adds a layer of sexiness. Yunho’s fingers graze your ass, stuck on squeezing and spreading your cheeks. It makes your pussy lips move with it, opening and closing against your clit softly.
It’s such a tiny movement to your pussy, but with how you’ve been ignoring its leaking, it feels like so much more. You moan in the sheets, gently rocking yourself back and forth to try and get Yunho to spread your ass more.
“Jesus Christ.” He puts his thumb on your pussy, guiding it against your slit until he finds the bundle of nerves underneath your nylons and underwear. “I can feel how wet you are. You need it real bad, huh?”
His fingers are muted from the layers of clothes, but that doesn’t stop you from whining. You press back until his thumb is hard against you, swiveling your hips for friction.
“Yesyesyes. So bad. I want your cock.”
His one thumb turns into multiple fingers. You sing with pleasure, showing no shame as you ride his hand until you feel the subtle, but familiar feeling coil in your stomach. Your styled hair is now a mess as it covers your eyes from how hard you’re rocking. Though you can’t see, you can feel the arousal leaking down your thighs and gather at your nylons.
Your orgasm comes quickly. It gets easy to grind on his fingers when your body is desperately chasing the high. “Cumming! Fuckfuckfuck, I'm cumming.”
You lift yourself on your forearms, halting all your movements to let the blinding pleasure wash over you, hot and delicious. Moans tumble past your lips. The tiniest bit of drool seeps from your mouth as you shake. You rock again, this time, to milk out your orgasm to completion.
But Yunho pulls away.
A desperate cry leaves you. “W-wait. M-more. I want m-”
Familiar hands push you back into the sheets. Yunho holds you by the back of the neck, forcing you to keep your trembling ass in the air.
Your heart races. More gasps and heavy breaths filter through your chest, but it’s an excitement that bubbles in your stomach. So much adrenaline runs through your body that half of the shaking is from your nerves.
You just know he’s going to fuck you good.
“You came on my hand and you’re already asking for more?” Yunho tuts. “So impatient, but don’t worry, you’ll get it. Girls like you love cumming their brains out, huh?”
There’s no denying that. You nod in the sheets and whimper a pathetic yes, but Yunho approves nonetheless.
“Yeah, that’s why you’ll take any cock you can get, right? Even if it’s a stranger…” His free hand smoothes over your ass, but once he finds a good grasp on your nylons, he yanks. Your entire body pulls back from the force. You have to grab onto the mattress to not slip off the bed.
“Even if it’s a man who’s almost twice your age…”
Another harsh yank and you hear fabric tear. Yunho pulls and pulls until your ass and cunt are free from the material. It’s only your underwear in the way, but you doubt that’ll be a problem.
Yunho leans down until he’s at your ear. Your body breaks into chills. He feels everywhere. He is everywhere from how big he is. You know you’re safe, but the thought of being at his mercy heightens your pleasure.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll buy you a new one.” He sweetly pecks your head and pulls away.
You’d laugh from the drastic switch-up, but you moan instead when you feel his fingers at your cunt. He plays with your folds through your panties, poking where your entrance is and smearing the arousal staining the underwear.
You’ve never been this wet before. It usually takes some lube or way more foreplay, but Yunho turns you on in ways you didn’t believe were possible. His deft fingers and how his brown eyes can be warm but threatening. Everything about him is captivating and you can only hope he thinks the same about you.
With a finger hooking to the side of your panties, he tugs until your bare cunt is finally freed. You clit peeks from your hood, throbbing between your lips desperately.
For the first time since you’ve met him, you feel nervous. Yunho stares at your pussy longer than you’re used to, making you try and press your thighs together to hide it.
“Nuh-uh.” He jiggles your ass. “Don’t do that. I wanna see your pussy.”
You whine but obey. You put yourself face-first into the bed, ignoring how your cheeks turn red.
Soon, the bed shifts weight and you hear the sound of a zipper. You pick up your head to look back, but Yunho forces you to face the bed.
You pout. “I wanna seeeee.”
“You just want everything, don’t you?” Yunho sounds condescending, but he rewards you with the head of his cock. Your lower lips wrap around his tip when he grinds against your pussy, making sure to keep your underwear out of the way. “You want to cum, you want my dick, you wanna see it…And the worst part is, you’ve got such a pretty pussy that you’ll get everything you want.”
Yunho pulls back just enough to line himself up. You still haven’t gotten over how his tip felt brushing against you. He’s slicked himself up nice and wet to press, intruding on your entrance.
You squeal. His shape opens you so easily that his size doesn’t sting at all, but makes your brain fuzzy. Though Yunho won’t let you see, you know he’s big. You turn dumb too quickly, chest burning from the oxygen he fucks out of you when he buries himself to the hilt.
‘Oh my-...fffuucckkkk.”
Yunho groans at your moaning. He opts to hook his thumb in your panties and splay the rest of his fingers on your ass. Messily, he gathers your hair to create a makeshift ponytail with his other hand, forcing your chest up.
Out... In... Out... In…
The pace is slow, but that doesn't mean it’s dull. Yunho pulls out until his tip is barely inside before pressing back in. When his pelvis is flush against your ass, it has you kicking your feet up and down on the bed from the overwhelming sensation.
He feels like he’s in your ass. In your throat. You can’t escape how deep Yunho drills into you when he keeps you still by the hair, forcing you to take every unbearable inch.
You love every second of it.
“Nghhh. Yunnhooo. Fuck meee. Fuck me pleeasseee.”
The sound of your cunt squelching echoes in the room. Yunho grunts at your command, pulling you up a few inches.
“Yeah, you want it? You want it? Then fucking take it.”
It’s like a switch. That cautious pace turns animalistic, rough, and quick until your breasts manage to slip from the top of your dress and bounce freely.
Your breath gets caught in your throat. There’s no sound until a harsh thrust forces the moan out. Once you start, you can stop. All you can manage are gasps and whines from Yunho’s drive.
Every vein, every curve doesn’t go unnoticed between your walls. The repeated pistons force you to know his shape. You know he’s carving a place for him. So deep and good that you don’t think you could ever go back to hookups at your university again.
But it’s Yunho’s tip that does it for you. There’s no you could ever unknow how it kisses your cervix or how the shape digs into you. You can't stop clenching down on it, sucking it back in over and over despite the pleasure overload you’re enduring.
Your pussy’s in loooove.
The haziness of your mind clears a bit when Yunho pulls you up more. Your fingers barely graze the mattress, but the pain in your scalp feels dull when you look into his eyes.
They’re dark, hungry, and possessive. There’s nothing but carnal desire when you dreamily look up at them, eyes losing focus rather quickly.
“You’re gonna cum. I fucking know you are. You cunt’s so fucking loud, it’s begging for it again.”
You swoon. Yunho knows he can make you feel good, he can feel it. Something like affection burns in your chest and you look at his pink lips.
He grins. “You want a kiss?”
You nod, but it must look silly since your entire body is jolting.
Yunho looks borderline psychotic when he breaks out into a smile. “Fuck. I love how young and stupid your pussy is. I’m gonna cum all over it. You’d like that, huh?”
“Loooveee iiiit.”
Yunho quickens his pace. You swear if you look down, you could see his cock poking through your stomach from the angle. Instead, you’re held to look into his eyes, vision blurring as your second orgasm approaches. It’s so much more intense than your first. Now you have something to clench on. Something to cream on when you inevitably burst.
And with your crossed eyes looking into his, you do. You feel a burst of warmth from your stomach speedily reach your pussy. It makes you feel hot, the even hotter arousal pooling down your thighs and onto Yunho’s cock.
He moans above you. His hips grow sloppy, hitting different parts of your cunt that have you squealing. Yunho doesn’t break eye contact when he stills in you, dick throbbing as his cum shoots inside.
The two of you stay moaning into each other's mouths, lips a mere inch away until he finally gives you what you want. The kiss is sloppy, full of breaths and moans as you messily shove tongues inside.
He swipes the inside of your cheek. He twists his tongue with yours until salvia trickles down your chin. You suck on his muscle and he does the same, pulling away with a wet smack that leaves you buzzing.
Yunho stares at you for a beat, eyes blinking as he comes to a sudden realization. “I think I'll keep you.”
You don’t have the energy to respond, but you're thinking the same thing.
#smut#atz smut#ateez smut#yunho#Yunho ateez#Yunho smut#Yunho ateez smut#Yunho atz#Yunho atz smut#ateez yunho#jeong yunho#yunho x reader#ateez
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svt reaction to you (their cold wife) getting sick
seungcheol doesn't show it, but he’s visibly panicked. seeing you so weak completely throws him off. “baby,” his voice cracks a little as he sits beside you, his hand gently brushing through your hair. “you need to rest, okay? i can handle everything, just let me take care of you.” he’s trying so hard not to show how worried he is, but his hand lingers on your forehead, watching you carefully. if you don’t listen, you’ll see him holding back tears, his jaw clenched tight. “don’t make the same mistakes ive made, my love. please, just let me help.”
jeonghan isn't really the type to outwardly panic, but you can see the way his eyes soften with worry. it makes him feel helpless. he’ll gently nudge you, a hand on your cheek, as if to check if you’re really that sick. “hey, you know i hate seeing you like this, you’re always so strong... i want to help you, but you're pushing me away. let me make you feel better, okay?” he watches you, biting his lip, not knowing what to do. it’s uncharacteristic of him to show concern so openly, but for you? he can’t hide it.
joshua's the one who has to step up, not your mom, or a family memeber. he’s gentle with you, always asking if you need anything, his hands warm as he adjusts the blankets around you. “babe, you’re the most important thing to me right now. let me take care of you,” you can see the way his shoulders tense whenever you push him away, the way his hands hesitate to touch you.
junhui isn’t good at handling sickness, especially when it’s you. he’s always been so carefree and lighthearted, but this situation makes him realize just how much he cares for you, even if its just a flu. when you’re sick, he tries his best to be quiet, doing everything for you without a word of complaint. “don’t you dare try to get up,” he warns gently, helping you lie back down when you try to move. “i’m gonna make sure you’re okay. please don’t push me away, i can’t stand it.” he hates seeing you like this, and it makes him feel lost.
hoshi, even though he tries to hide it, seeing you sick, lying in bed, is throwing him off. “no, no, you can’t be sick!” he says, pacing around the room. he tries to keep the mood light, but you can see it in his eyes—he’s desperate to help you feel better. when he notices you’re still not listening to him, he softens, sitting beside you and gently holding your hand. “i’m scared.” he admits quietly. “come on, smile just a little bit for me, alright?” he’ll throw in dance moves, trying to make you giggle through your fever. but when he sees you barely responding, the laughter dies down, and he’ll sit beside you, rubbing your arm softly.
wonwoo doesn’t know how to comfort someone when they’re sick, but he tries his best, even if it’s awkward. he’ll sit beside you, his hands restless, not sure where to place them. “you should be resting,” he says softly, watching you closely as you try to power through. when you try to push him away, he gently grabs your wrist. “i know you don’t like being helpless, but it’s okay to let me take care of you. understand?”
woozi is the type to hide his emotions, but when you're sick, he can’t stop his worry from seeping through. he’s quiet, observing you with sad puppy eyes. “you’re not fooling anyone, you know?” he says gently, brushing your hair from your forehead. “you think i don’t see how bad you’re feeling? you have to rest.” he will show up with every remedy he can think of. sStop pretending you’re not sick.”
minghao’ll sit with you, his hand gently resting on your leg, offering you drinks and food without pushing too hard. “you need anything else?” he’ll ask. if you seem uncomfortable, he’ll adjust the pillows or pull the blanket up around you. “rest, okay? i know you’re tough, but you’re allowed to take a break with me.”
mingyu hates seeing you in such a vulnerable state, and it makes him feel like its actually HIS fault? “hey, don’t give me that look,” he says, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “you need to rest, alright? you’re always taking care of everyone else, let me take care of you this time.” he’ll be running around, grabbing medicine, making soup, doing anything he can. if you refuse to eat, he’ll do the “puppy eyes” thing, like please just do it for me. “y/n, you gotta eat something for me.” he’ll say, holding a spoon up like he’s feeding you a kid.
seokmin’s probably more emotional about it than anyone else, but he tries to hide it behind his warm, comforting words. “hey, hey, don’t try to be tough for me, okay?” he says softly, cupping your face in his hands. “i need you to get better. you’re always so strong, but now it’s my turn to take care of you. don’t shut me out.” he’s the type to almost act like everything’s fine to keep you from feeling bad, but when you’re not looking, you can tell he’s worrying “you need more water? how about some tea? i’ll make it extra special.” his attempts to cheer you up with bad jokes and soft, loving gestures will make you smile, even if you don’t feel like it.
seungkwan “no, no, no, no! not you too!” he says, pacing back and forth, clearly frantic. “you can’t be sick, that’s not allowed!” he’s trying to keep it together, but you can see the way his eyes keep flicking back to you. “you want soup? Iill make the best soup ever. i’ll make it famous!” he says, putting on an exaggerated show as he tries to make you laugh.
vernon knows you don’t like being weak, but he refuses to let you go through it alone. “stop, you’re not pushing me away this time,” he says in the most serious tone you ever heard him, while he applies vic on your back. you’ll catch him watching you when he thinks you’re asleep, his hand softly brushing through your hair, a faint frown on his face. his way of saying “i need you to be okay” without actually saying it out loud.
chan’s soft, tender heart breaks when he sees you sick, but he’ll try his hardest not to overwhelm you. he’ll bring you everything you need, checking in on you constantly. “you’re not fooling me, y/n,” he says gently, pressing a hand to your forehead. “i know you’re not feeling well. you always take care of me... why wouldn't you let me take care of you this time? isn't that what boyfriends were made for?”
#seventeen reactions#seventeen imagines#seventeen headcanons#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#svt imagines#seungcheol x reader#jeonghan x reader#joshua x reader#hoshi x reader#dino x reder#minghao x reader#wonwoo x reader#woozi x reader#jun x reader#mingyu x reader#seokmin x reader#seungkwan x reader#vernon x reader#chan x reader
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permanent fix
soulmate au + a/b/o
paring: alpha atsumu x fem beta reader
warnings: bullying, dub-con, atsumu is not nice, smut, slight breeding kink, biting, blood, choking, mirror sex, possessiveness, jealousy, alpha rut, atsumu talks shit, dramatic atsumu
word count: 2.2k
english is not my first language. please excuse any mistakes
Born as a beta, you never thought fate would toy with you by giving an alpha as your soulmate. Especially not one like Miya Atsumu, the one whom you went to school through college with and still having to see his face ever so frequently as if he had sworn to never let you live in peace.
For someone who made faces when seeing the lunchboxes your mom packed for you and proclaimed a beta was weak when you first presented at fifteen, Miya Atsumu couldn’t seem to detach himself from you.
So when you had a crush on one of your colleagues at twenty five, having his nose in your business as usual, Atsumu knew instantly.
“Another beta.” Lying comfortably on your couch, Atsumu scoffed. “Predictable.”
“Didn’t ask for your opinions.”
“I’m giving it anyway,” he said in a singsong voice, but his face was without mirth. “You can fuck whoever you want, but I’m getting my fix. That’s non-negotiable.”
Oh, yeah. His fix.
He patted his lap. “Come here.”
Then it all began again. Him cradling you in his lap, hands going all over, lips spilling hateful words.
‘Weak fucking beta.’ He would say. ‘Even Osamu got an omega soulmate. Makes me jealous as fuck.’
But then he would kiss you like the world might end tomorrow, doing everything opposite of what he said. This time was no different. His hot tongue was everywhere he could reach, acquainted itself with yours before leaving a wet trail down your neck.
You protested when he nipped a little too hard, scared he might leave marks. He did that once. The deep purple hickey you saw in the mirror after he left your apartment scared the shit out of you. A little more force and teeth could have broken the skin, and that thought caused chills to run all over your body. You didn’t want to bear his marks.
Yet, Atsumu didn’t care. He never did. His hands were now on your buttocks, squeezing hard through your thin pajama bottoms. He moved you to one of his thighs for better concentration. The hands on your butt now rolled your hips back and forth, to the point your moan finally slipped out of your tightly zipped lips and you forgot about the harsh nibbling on your neck.
“Go whore yourself out,” Atsumu whispered. “Like I fucking care.”
Same here, asshole.
You thought, didn’t say out loud.
Touching each other lifted the heavy weight in the heart caused by the act of not accepting the soulmate bond. Nothing more, nothing less. If not for this calling of intimacy both of you obliged to feel, he wouldn’t be here. You knew that. He said it way too many times.
Still, your cheeks were licked, your lips were tasted, neck wet with saliva. You felt like a prey about to be eaten every time he was close. Yes, he may not care. But he sure was possessive enough of things that were given to him.
Whenever you tried to wiggle out of his firm grasp, he tightened his fist. This time was the hardest you ever felt.
—
In more than twenty years of knowing each other, never once did Atsumu come to you when he had gone into rut. So when he called you two in the morning one week after his last fix, ordered you to pack a bag and tell your boss you would be on leave for a week, you were baffled. It was never more than kisses and touches with him. Your clothes were always intact and on. The idea of that being changed had you flat out saying no.
That didn’t stop Atsumu from coming to get you one hour later though. When he saw that you did nothing to get ready, his jaw was clenched. A split second later, he packed your bag himself, shoving clothes and toiletries in without any care. You were still in pajamas when the passenger door was slammed closed and he hit the gas.
—
There were reasons why betas are not for alphas. Physically, they were incompatible. Betas weren’t designed for alpha’s stamina, not to mention one in rut. At one point, you did not care to count anymore how many times you had blacked out. Fading in and out really fucked with your memory. All you remembered was the non-stop pounding, Atsumu’s breath against your face, and his uncharacteristic cooing, praising you as his good girl.
“Knew you were built for me.” The blond menace pulled on both of your wrists, never stopped his thrusting. “Let me knot you again, okay?” When you shook your head, face wet with tears, Atsumu shushed you softly. “Shhhhh. You can do it, I know you can.”
And you could. But it was not without pain.
“Shouldn’t have waited this long,” Atsumu said close to your lips. “You almost got away.”
He talked too much. But it would have been a big fat lie to deny that his words didn’t turn you on. That his vile confession didn’t affect you.
“Bold of you to even think I would let someone else touch you.” He sounded out of breath, closing to his end. “All the effort goes to waste. No no no no.”
You felt it coming, just seconds before. Then your whole body was taken by the waves of thrills and your whole vision turned white. Atsumu was not your first, but as if he was the harbinger of agony, it hurt when he first penetrated, hurt when he knotted. And when you felt a sharp sting at your sensitive neck, you knew he defied the rule of nature once again by marking you.
Fruitless. That was what it would be. Betas were not made for alphas. Mating bites did not forge any bond with the wrong person and would fade over time. But Atsumu had always been stubborn. One bite turned into two, three, then countless. All you felt was pain and the wetness of blood before darkness took your consciousness like the many rounds before.
—
The mating bites faded within two weeks, all except the first mark, proving to you that even biology could not win over destiny. Same went with all other beta-alpha soulmate couples out there after you had done some research. They were rare, but they were there. You shouldn’t have let Atsumu bite you. Should have known better that things could get weird when it came to soulmates. Now, he wouldn’t get off your ass, had the audacity to move his things to your apartment and yours to his, calling you his girlfriend in front of everyone and expecting to see you at his games.
You didn’t even like volleyball to begin with. And as you watched his magnificent tosses to any players he deemed to have high chances to score, you thought of a way to get out of his clutch.
He needed an omega, the correct designation he always longed for. Because even with all the protective caresses and the promise to never let you go, Atsumu was still mean. Like going back to the ninth grade when you put makeup on for the first time and he gave you the nastiest comment that made you go wash everything off in the school toilet, his words still stung badly when he chose to weaponize them.
‘Samu’s mate smells like she needs to be bred.’ He said that nonchalantly one day at Onigiri Miya, sitting side by side with you at the counter where his twin and his mate helped each other with cooking and serving the hungry athletes who were there to celebrate the day’s victory ‘Don’t know how he stands that. So sweet’
Hearing that made your conversation with Hinata pause. His steely gaze was the first thing you saw when turning to face ‘your boyfriend’.
It didn’t end there. For days Atsumu was in a devilish mood, his jabs that you knew most of them were meant to just rile you up for fun had become a real emotional harm. He still fucked you, make no mistake about that. And it was as devilish as his temper.
‘Too hard, Miya. Too hard.’ You still wouldn’t call him by his first name.
Veiny hands wrapped snugly around your neck, Atsumu only went faster after hearing that. The bathroom mirror was foggy with hot steam from the shower, but you could see enough. One of your legs was perched on the counter, allowing the view of his cock pistoning in and out of you, your breasts bouncing fast.
‘Would have been pregnant already if you were an omega.’ The sentence came out coated with his accent, thicker than normal, like he didn’t have full control of how he spoke. ‘But that’s alright. I can take my time with you. We’ll get there,’ he purred. ‘Still, what a shame, huh?’
Shame his ass for saying that and not letting you leave. ‘Go fuck an omega then.’
He smirked. Pissed you off. ‘Nah.’
As his toss to Sakusa scored a winning point, the loud cheer brought you back to the present. You saw Atsumu eyes staring up at you from the court below and knew what you had to do.
—
Getting an omega who wanted to spend a heat with Miya Atsumu was easy enough. Sending her up to your apartment where he was already there waiting for you was as simple. You drove away then, not far, stopping at your favorite 24-hour cafe because you needed somewhere to sit and waited for the first feedback from the omega girl. Half an hour later, you got a call.
The screen showed the female omega’s name. You picked up and said hello, expecting to hear that everything went well and that you could go find somewhere else to sleep for the next five nights.
But you only heard cries. Not of pleasure, just a full-blown crying with hiccups.
“Hey, are you okay?” you asked, frowning. “Talk to me. What happened?”
“He—he screamed—at me,” she spluttered, almost incoherently, “and only asked where you were.”
You cursed quietly, finally able to stop stirring the poor coffee you ordered without any interest in taking a sip. “Where is he now?”
“I don’t know,” she cried. “He left—after the screaming.” Her voice wavered all the more when she kept on trying to speak. “You had to see him. He looked murderous. There was not even a hello. He straight up shouted at me, accusing me of breaking in. When I tried to explain—mentioned you, his face was all red.” A hiccup interrupted the long babbling. “He said he was married to you and showed me the ring.”
You were not sure what crack Atsumu was on, but there was definitely no ring or marriage.
The call was still on when you heard the cafe’s door pushed open. And it was as if you saw the devil with your own naked eyes.
Atsumu walked in.
His strides declared no peace or mercy when he saw you, ignoring the greetings from the two night shift baristas.
Not wanting to cause a scene, you stood up, didn’t say anything when he put his hand on your shoulder and led the way out.
The drive was silent. Your car was left at the parking lot near the cafe, you would have to come and get it as soon as you could before the parking fee turned as murderous as him. When asked where he was going, he answered solemnly, “My place. Yours stinks.”
You just knew it was going to be a long night.
—
Atsumu was the one who got the car out for you the next morning since he was the one who could still walk without wobbling. The sheets you slept on were rumpled. They reeked of cum.
You reeked of cum.
‘You think you’re so funny?’ he asked, knowing you couldn’t answer with his cock occupying your mouth but did it nonetheless ‘You wanted me to fuck her? What was going on in that pretty little head?’
He pulled you by the nape of your neck before pushing your head down, forcing your throat to take more of him till you felt the urge to gag.
‘I thought we had an understanding, baby,’ he said, finally relenting his grip on your head. ‘No whoring yourself out.’ Then he stressed, ‘And no whoring me out. I’m yours.’
‘Do you understand?’
You only nodded.
‘Words.’
‘Yes, Miya.’
‘Atsumu,’ he said, looking like he wanted to throw up. ‘You’re not fucking my brother. Don’t make me imagine that. Call me Atsumu.’
‘Yes, Tsumu.’
Looked like you delivered. Atsumu grinned from ear to ear. ‘Good girl. My best girl.’
That was last night.
A warm kiss to the cheek woke you again, must have dozed off after Atsumu left, but those scenes were not a dream. You heard him whisper,
“I got your car. Parked it at your place.”
He looked like he got a ten-hour sleep while you could not move a limb without feeling sore. Not fair. And the way he looked so good in sheep’s clothing, his wolf’s skin all hidden. Not fair at all.
“Shower.” Your voice was hoarse, but you got the message through. That was good enough.
#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu smut#miya atsumu x y/n#miya atsumu x you#haikyu fanfiction#haikyu x reader#haikyuu smut#hq smut#hq x reader#atsumu x reader#atsumu miya x reader#yandere haikyuu#haikyuu dark content#soulmate au#a/b/o au#omegaverse#a/b/o#haikyuu x reader
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what about reader is pregnant and rafe lovessssss her big and swollen boobs
i love this duo. pregnant/mom reader with rafe🙂↕️ so thank u for sending this in!
CW: pregnant!reader, titty sucking and grabbing, lowkey canon rafe, but he’s also down bad for reader n her tits.
note: there was two ways i could have taken this, and i chose this. hope y’all enjoy!🥰
He had always loved your tits. From the moment you had met him, Rafe was always touching your boobs in some way.
Whether it was grabbing at them with his hands any and everywhere, or laying his head on them when he slept, — saying they were his ‘pillows’ — Rafe was obsessed with your boobs.
But, since he’d knocked you up, and your tits had grew a significant amount — all swollen and big — Rafe was even more obsessed with them.
You were currently in the shower, trying to soothe your aching boobs when the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing catches your attention.
“Rafe?” you said softly, knowing it was him.
He didn’t respond though.
You furrowed your brows in confusion, shaking your head softly before you moved back under the stream of hot water pouring from the shower. Your right hand softly gripped one of your tits, massaging it softly to try and relieve some of the pressure you were feeling.
Squeezing your eyes shut and focusing on soothing the pain you were feeling, you didn’t hear the shower door open, or Rafe stepping inside behind you. His strong arms wrapping around your waist had you jumping, eyes popped open and a small scream coming from you.
“Oh fuck, Rafe! What’re you-” you tried asking, but his hands gripping harshly at your tits had you clamping your mouth shut.
“Shhhh, let me take care of you baby girl, you’re in pain, huh?”
You sighed, your eyes fluttering shut again as his large palms gently massaged your tits, making the intense pressure on them subside.
“Y-Yeah… They’re so swollen and they hurt, Rafe..”
Rafe shushed you once again, continuing the gentle squeezing and kneading movements with his hands.
A moan slips past your lips, “Rafe.. That feels..”
“Good?” He finishes your thought for you.
You nod your head, “Yeah.. So good.”
Rafe dips his head down, leaving a kiss on your shoulder and neck before he whispers in your ear, “Your tits are so beautiful, baby. So fuckin’ swollen and big.. Just wanna suck on them.”
His hands squeezed at your breasts harder, making your knees feel weak. You moaned again, Rafe growling in your ear before he drops his hands and spins your body around to face him, pressing your back into the cold shower wall.
“Gonna suck on these perfect tits baby, gonna make the pain go away. Just relax f’me, aight?”
You nod your head, letting out a breathless, “yeah.”
Next thing you knew, Rafe was lifting you into his arms, your swollen, pregnant belly pushing into his firm chest. You opened your mouth to tell him you’re too heavy for him to be holding right now, but a moan slips out instead when Rafe wraps his lips around your hardened nipple.
He sucked hard, nipping at the pebbled bud with his teeth and dragging it out before releasing it, moving his mouth to the other breast and repeating his actions.
Rafe licked, bit, and sucked on your tits, your mind going fuzzy from how good he was making you feel, the pain from mere minutes ago long forgotten now.
“Shit, Rafe… Feels so good, please, don’t stop.”
Rafe bites at your nipple again before releasing it and looking into your eyes, “Wasn’t planning on it, sweetheart. These tits are so fucking beautiful as is, but goddamn, they’re so sexy right now. Swollen and big, gonna have to keep you knocked up forever just so your tits stay like this.”
You giggled, slapping at his chest. “I don’t think I can do this too many times, baby. My whole body hurts, but, I’ll let you knock me up a few more times to get your fix of my big, swollen boobs.”
Rafe smiled widely, his blue eyes shining with adoration and excitement. “Sounds good to me. Now relax, and let me take care of my girl.”
RAFE TAGLIST: @drewstarkeyslut @princessslutt @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @sturnioloshacker @starkeysprincess @rafescurtainbangz @atorturedpoetx @redhead1180 @jjsmarijuana @romaescapes @kisses4angel
rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form | requests ml
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Yandere! Best friend
Tw: female reader, emotional manipulation, jealousy, toxicity, crude language, implied parental abuse/neglect, implied drugs, non - consensual touching, i love manipulative men too much for my own good :((
Summary: Toxic, codependent friendship turns sour. But that's really no surprise.
You love Lauren's flat. You know he's renting it for cheap because his dad is friends with the landlord - and he doesn't give a fuck about the place. You know by the wrappers on the ground and the cigarettes stacked burnt inside the drawers, the stench of weed stuck to the ceiling for what feels like forever - and it's no surprise. Lauren doesn't care about all the good things in his life. And you know by the broken mirror pieces never to be swept away and the pills hidden behind the sink.
Still, you like his flat. The kitchen alone is bigger than your mom's entire house. The fridge is never empty - full from top to bottom, to the very brim, bursting with everything from your favourite chocolate candy to cheap vodka, from top shelf whiskey to pickled onions and fancy imported foreign items you have never seen before with your own two eyes. All colorful, all set in alphabetical order - he's a neat freak like that, and it's no surprise. The central heating never stops, and it's never cold. It's a land of dreams, and some days you wish you could stay forever.
***
"Haha, aw." You whisper to yourself, shoulders moving slowly up and down in sync. You try to stop the slight blush from reaching your face, but it's inevitable, truly. You barely notice when your best friend sneaks behind you, quiet as a snake ready to bite into your open vein.
"You look awfully happy." He observes with certain distaste, almost grimacing - you don't have to look up from your phone, you know him too well, he must be grimacing, and clicking his tongue. "Did the old hag kick the bucket or somethin'?" His lips twist in a cruel little smile as he wraps his arms around your frame - which never ceases to make you feel as if you have a tiny mischievous demon on your shoulder. "No, wait, don't tell me you're getting fired from the burger place. That's even better!" His eyes glow with childish joy as he teases you, and you can feel your cheeks heating up.
"N-no, it's nothing like that. It's really stupid..." You try to look anywhere but at him, fiddling with your phone nervously. "Just go back to reading your book and leave me alone, jerk." You attempt to joke back, but your anxiety gives you away. It's foolish to lie to him to begin with - he's known you for years. He's known you since your father died, since your mother stopped caring whether you're alive or not. He's known you since you broke down in his arms for the first time. He's known you in nothing but smeared mascara and torn bottomless pockets, though empty wallets; he's known you, body and soul (and lips too, all those years ago). So of course he knows that you're lying.
"What is it?" He humms playfully leaning over your shoulder, chin resting on top of your breast. You feel the sweat sticking to his neck (was he in a fight again?), the heavy colognue coming off his black shirt as he tries to read the words on your screen. You quickly turn off your phone, and Lauren pouts, pretending to be upset. "What's so damn important that you can't even tell your best friend?" His voice is light and airy, privy, overwhelmingly sweet and sticky like burnt caramel.
You open your mouth, but no speech comes out. You feel embarrassed. You don't even know where to start. Then the man raises an eyebrow expectantly, eyes prompting Well?, growls in irritation quickly after, and reaches for a new thin cigarette, all in the same breath. He's always been like this - quick to set aflame. Impossible to predict. Hard to resist. Soft, sometimes. In your arms, mostly.
"Fine." He snaps at last, brows furrowed like an angered father as he stands up to get his keys from the table, heading towards the door. "Do whatever the fuck you want. It's not like I'm the only person in this ugly, shitty world who, like, dunno, gives a fuck about yo-"
"You'll just mock me!" You squeak out, crossing your arms together - regretting even laughing in the first place. Then, even more quietly. "If I tell you."
Lauren stills completely, slowly turning back towards you. Your heartbeat speeds up even more, if possible.
"What the fuck happened?" He remains serious, although slightly less aggravated now. "You know I hate this cryptic bullshit you do. Just speak up, you're not a child anymore." He gets closer to you, pointing at your chest. "M not your mommy, ain't gonna hit ya if you say the wrong thing."
You take a deep breath, eyes focused on the cigar hanging off his mouth - together with the sport hoodie and the cheap black beanie he looks like a small fish delinquent, and you have to stop yourself from laughing. But then you remember why you even fought in the first place, and you feel flustered all over again.
"I met someone." You blurt out in a rush to get it over with, averting your eyes to the TV still playing somewhere in the background. The sound has been turned to low - he says the commercials make him want to scratch his head from the inside.
"Huh?" His cigarette falls off. Ash all over the dirty wooden tiles.
"I met someon-
"Yes, I heard you the first time." Lauren pronounces slowly, lips stretching into his oh - so characteristic smile again. "I just couldn't believe it." He stomps over the half lit cigar, burning a hole into the floor. It doesn't look out of order with all the filth. "Who would have known. Heh." He stares at you for entirely too long - until you squirm with discomfort. "Who's the lucky guy?"
You want to ask him why it's so unbelievable for you to meet someone - but it's hard to find the words to. At the same time you know he's just joking, he'd never do anything to hurt you. He's just... rough around the edges.
"You don't know him." Warm heat travels through your body as you think about your secret admirer. "We met online."
"Of course you did." Your friend scoffs, rolling his eyes at you. Then he claps sardonically, lighting up another cigarette. He must have hundreds, if not thousands lying around. "Well, congratulations, princess. You may finally get pounded like a real bitch in heat. Isn't that nice?" The more you look at him, the more crooked his smirk seems to get.
"You're fucking disgusting." You hiss, standing up - ready to collect your things and leave.
You hate when he gets like this.
"Oh, not so fast. We're still talking, baby. Tell me everything." Lauren grabs your elbow, pulling you in with ease, and if he wasn't your best friend, you'd be terrified by how strong he is despite his seemingly slim build. "Does he tell you that you're beautiful? That you're just the most precious thing in the entire world?" His voice lowers down to a whisper in your ear. "Or is he even less creative with his lies?"
You pull away, eyes widening with disbelief.
"He's not like this! How can you even say all th-" You blurt out incoherently, but he stops you in the tracks with a single sharp glare. "He's not like that?" The man snorts in a rather nasty way, pulling you back in while you're too shocked to resist. "You're even dumber that I thought." His eyes narrow to two slits bleeding bile. "Did he fuck you already? Is that why you're acting so naive? You get some mediocre dick and now you're all star - eyed." He laughs with unhinged madness, orbs mudded with pure craze.
Before you can respond, your phone buzzes. You both stare at it for what feels like eternity - but he's faster, always. Ever since you were children. And as you're jumping away, fighting with teeth and nail to get your phone back, he's reading away at your most intimate thoughts and feelings.
"I feel like I've known you for ages." He reads out loud, trying to imitate the voice of the sender. "You must be my other half. I'd love to hold you and cherish you forever." The mocking nasal tone sinks with each word, and once he reaches "forever", it's almost silent. His hands are shaking, eyes blurry. The ink drowns the screen as if trying to get under his own fingernails.
And when he smashes the phone in the ground, it's really no surprise.
"Lauren!" You gasp, falling down to collect the pieces, grabbing at the broken plastic with feral grip. But there's just too many of them, and not enough glue in the whole wide world.
"I should have known you were up to no good in that miserable house. That crack-whore mother of yours is putting these... ideas in your head." He chuckles coldly, staring at you from aboving with unreadable expression - and from so low on the ground he looks like the sun. "She made you believe someone could actually love... you."
He suddenly squats down to your level.
"News-fucking-flash, sweetheart." His fist wraps around your hair, pulling at will. It burns your scalp, but you can't look away, hypnotized by the motion of his lips, the silky cruelty of his voice teasing your ears. "Nobody loves you. Nobody will ever love you - not your poor dead bum of a father, not that bitch you call mother and certainly not this fool you think you love. How could they love you? You're a fucking mess!"
He's laughing at the tears slowly pouring down your cheeks. You're so beautiful when you cry.
"How could they love you?" He repeats softly, stroking your cold wet cheek with two slender fingers - the same fingers that always dry your tears. Then his lips touch your eyelids, slowly, torturously - the same lips that always bring you to tears. "They wouldn't know what to do with you. Such a fragile girl." His nose rubs against your collarbone and suddenly you're drowning in your sadness like a sailor lost at sea. "Such a fragile, broken little girl."
And yet you still love Lauren's apartment, it's never cold, and it's always silent. So silent you can hear your own heartbeat - and so lonely you can taste your tears on his lips.
#yandere#yancore#male yandere#male yandere x reader#yandere oneshot#yandere x you#yandere male x reader#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader
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Daddy’s Girl
Lorraine Day x G!p Reader
Daddy’s Girl Series (coming soon)
PS: The concept is from my old wattpad stories so I'm restarting the series
Warnings: Oral sex, blowjobs, language
A heavy silence enveloped the truck as you exhaled deeply, the sound echoing in the stillness.
Lorraine crossed her arms and looked out the truck window; her expression was unreadable.
You started to apologize, but Lorraine saw your reflection in the window. “Save it,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as you smacked your teeth.
Raine was upset with your behavior toward her father. You never got along with him, so you tried to provoke him whenever he was around.
Unexpectedly, Lorraine’s mom invited you to dinner. You greeted everyone with a warm welcome, stopping to scowl at Mr. Day in disgust.
“Mr. Day” you said, in a forced smile.
He curled his lip in a snarl and whispered, "Butch."
“Oh, come on you two, hug one another. Let’s start a new leaf, shall we?” Mrs. Day smiled. The nice lady always tried her best to encourage the two of you to get along.
You couldn’t help but smirk at her father, reaching your arms around him to give him a hug.
“This butch is fucking your daughter so never forget that.” you whispered, making sure your girlfriend or her mother didn’t hear.
“What a nice hug, old man, yeah?” You laughed and patted his back, then walked away shaking your head.
‘Old fuck’ you laughed.
-
You spent an hour chatting and laughing with your girlfriend and her mother, despite her father's disapproving glares. "Don’t you have a home to get to?" he asked, directing his gaze at you. You shrugged it off and refocused on your girlfriend.
It was a lovely dinner, and your priority was to keep Lorraine happy, so you did your best to behave. She looked at you with a smile of approval. Leaning closer, you whispered seductively, “After this, I can take you back to my house.”
Loraine felt shivers go down her spine as anticipation filled her stomach. She bit down on your earlobe when her parents were distracted, “I don’t think I can wait, baby. Meet me outside, would you?”
With a deep breath, you rose from your chair and declared, "Alright, ladies, I’m stepping out for a quick smoke. Need a moment to clear my head."
A hand grabs your sleeve. “I’m going with her; we’ll be back,” Lorraine rushes, scooting back in her chair to leave the table.
Lorraine walked out with you, rubbing her hands down your pants as she looked up at you and bit her lip. “I miss you daddy” she whimpered. Her eyes pleaded for you. She grabbed your buckle to pull you closer.
“Are you feeling impatient?” you whisper softly in her ear.
Lorraine rolls her eyes and bites her bottom lip. “I’m feeling something, and if you don’t help me, I might find someone else to suck off,” she muttered. She looked up at you with doe eyes, kneeling down on her knees to unbuckle your pants.
The rattling sound of your buckle heightened your anticipation. You loved her when she was this needy and wanting you. It was beautiful and enticing to you.
“You look so beautiful like this,” you whispered. “Always taking my cock like a good gir-” you cut off with a soft groan. Throwing your head back as she pressed her warm lips to the tip, squeezing your balls as she licked down a long strip of your shaft. “Fuck”
Lorraine bobbed her head up and down. Watching her cheeks suck in as she took your cock in her mouth caused you to shudder, her eyes lidded and seductive.
She took in as much as she could until the tip of your cock hit the back of throat, making her moan in surprise, sending wave of vibrations in you. “Just like that sweet girl,” you breathed, voice quivering.
She simply hummed in response, vibrations running down your shaft and making you twitch, eyes innocent and wide-eyed.
You can't stop yourself from coming down her throat, the warm white liquid filling her mouth as your hips stuttering as you empty into her.
The sound of the front porch creaking caught Lorraine's attention as she noticed a pair of scruffy black boots. She tapped your thigh, signaling for you to let her go, but you were too engrossed in your orgasm to notice her pleas.
Lorraine's dad stormed to the front door, his heart racing as he caught sight of the chaos unfolding. “Lorraine Day! What in the world are you doing, for crying out loud?”
You quickly snapped out of your orgasm as you heard Lorraine's father’s stern voice. “Get up, baby,” you smirked, putting your pants back on as you stared at her father with a foolish expression.
Lorraine’s dad glared at you while you were instructing his daughter. He firmly grasped Lorraine’s arm as she stood up and said in a low voice, “Go in the house.” His anger was noticeable as he locked eyes with you, making it clear that he was not pleased.
You laughed, “She’s not going anywhere. Get in the car, Lorraine,” as you started to walk off towards the truck.
“Dad, I’ll come back tomorrow,” Lorraine mutters awkwardly, hugging him as she walks behind you.
Lorraine jumped as you slammed the car door.
You started the car as your girlfriend jumped in, backing out of the driveway and onto the road. A silence hung in the air until she cleared her throat to get your attention.
“I know you heard him before I saw him," she said, her voice tinged with irritation as she crossed her arms, clearly showing her frustration. You shook your head and laughed, "I don't know what you mean, sweet pea.”
She turned to you firmly. “That’s ridiculous. Your ego is getting in the way, and it’s going to make him see me in a different way!” her accent coming out stronger than before.
“Grow the fuck up, Lorraine, you don’t need Daddy’s approval to give a fucking blowjob!” you spat, speeding up the car to piss her off.
Lorraine rolled her eyes and shot a defiant glare. "Seriously, Y/n, let me out of here!"
“What? No way,” you stated, disbelief lacing your voice.
Lorraine pushed the side of your face, causing you to look back at her with disapproval. "I’m fucking driving!"
“Stop the car!” she shouted, her urgency noticeable as she seized the wheel. The vehicle swerved dangerously, tires screeching against the sidewalk, forcing you to slam on the brakes.
You watched your girlfriend open the door and slam it before walking along the side of the road toward her father’s house. You rolled down the window and said, "Baby, come on, get in the car. I'm sorry."
Lorraine ignored your demands as she crossed her arms.
"I shouldn't have done that; it was a reckless move and I apologize," you shouted out of the window, with half of your body hanging out of the car. The wind blew your hair back as she paused and started walking toward the car.
As she settled into the car, you started to apologize. However, Lorraine saw your reflection in the window and muttered, “Save it,” rolling her eyes as you clicked your teeth.
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