#or your mom who was part of the reason you were taught all this to begin with | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

with-my-calamitous-love · 4 months ago

Text

HE SAW FOREVER SO HE SMASHED IT UP

katsuki bakugou x reader

the times bakugou broke your heart

heavily inspired by mbobhft

1) the denial

“are we breaking up?”

“…yeah.”

“oh.”

his reasons made sense. he had a job, a goal, a burning drive to prove himself as the best. he was burnt out, his fingers worked to the bones. he couldn’t give you not just what you wanted, but what you needed. and that killed him more than it did you.

it made sense. the gears turned. the writing was on paper. like almost everything he did, it worked out. of course it worked out for katsuki bakugou- he’s the best.

it wasn’t all that set in stone for you, however.

he could have given you a million more reasons before the tears spilled. “i’m an asshole.” true. “i don’t treat you right.” fair. “you deserve so much fuckin’ better, [y/n.]” yeah, he was right.

but you always liked to challenge the acceptable.

at first, it didn’t hit you as hard as you thought it would. you walked through your room, too numb to pay mind to the tears that rolled down your cheeks, and silently packed up his sweaters into a box. the necklace he gave you, the ‘k’ pendant, came off your neck like a butterfly lands on a branch, knowing that its death is inevitable and doing nothing to stop it.

at night, you cried, and cried, and cried. you called him about 27 times. he never answered. he texted you to make sure you were okay, but your tear-blurred eyes kept you from seeing the keyboard clearly. you left him on seen and prayed that he was worried, prayed that his heart would explode at your lack of an answer, prayed to god that he would come over just to check on. suffice to say your prayers were left unanswered.

you thought he’d call. but he didn’t. but your soul remained devoted, eyes glued to your phone screen and hands shaking. he has to call. he has to tell you goodnight. he has to tell you that you’re an idiot. he has to tell you he loves you. he’s going too, idiot.

right?

2) the anger

if he wanted you dead, why didn’t he just say?

your heart burned for anger. for salvation. for revenge. you knew katsuki bakugou knew anger well, but he had no idea the way your soul flared like a whole new depth of hell.

you laid in bed, awake, eyes excruciatingly drive from crying your tear ducts may as well have been burnt off. memories of him haunted your brain while your fists tightened.

you regretted giving him your heart. your love. your late nights and early mornings. your fights, your passions, your 2ams and your smiles. you hated the way you let him draw the laughter out of you, how he showed parts of himself to you he had never shown anyone.

and those little things that made up your love, he was going to use on someone else. you knew it.

he was going to cook them his special fried rice his mom taught him how to do. he was going to teach them how to punch because he doesn’t want them to get hurt- something he did for you. he was going kiss them how he kissed you, love them in a way that should have only been you.

but he shouldn’t. in fact, he should look back at what you had, and regret every. single. thing. he did to let is end. he should regret everything he didn’t do to keep you. he should burn alive from guilt. scream. cry. fight for his life while his body is doused in gasoline. attempt miserably to tear the fire off his skin while it burned him to a crisp. he should die screaming.

he should deserved it, after all. because he heard your screams, and put his headphones on.

3) the bargaining

please. you wailed. who do i have to talk to? what do i have to do to get him back!?

you suddenly thought of so many scenarios in your head, scenarios fuelled by false hope. things you’d do to kiss him one last time, to hold him, to love him and be loved by him. you’d dry the ocean water. you’d turn stones into gold. you’d bring him to heaven and back. you’d get out of bed. you’d compromise more. you wouldn’t forget to kiss him. you’d love him. you’d love him so much harder. please.

suddenly everything seemed possible. if someone answered your calls, if someone made a deal with you, you’d offer up everything. you were sure you’d place everything on the line for him. you want it all back- his yelling, his snark, his nicknames, his attitude, his everything- no, your everything. you’d pluck out your own eyes for his red ones, or your heart for his heroic soul that loved you brighter than anyone else. being loved by katsuki bakugou was something you wouldn’t trade for anything- turns out you couldn’t trade it either.

4) the depression

everything smelled like him. your sheets blossomed into his sweet, burnt scent, the one that he’d leave behind whenever he slept over simply because he left you. all your jackets felt like his chiseled arms, wrapped around you as if you’d be gone in a moments notice. his voice was everywhere. the songs on the radio, the words you read on your phone, and the memories that played like your favourite movie soundtrack.

you wondered if he knew you couldn’t get out of bed. sometimes you imagined him calling your ass lazy, and then dragging you out of bed with a kiss to your forehead and a breakfast he cooked for you. maybe then you’d rip off the sheets and face the day. but right now, your bed was the only place you could mourn.

it was cruel, in a sense. letting you fall in love with him only to leave. letting you fall in love with his stupid smug smirk, his laugh, his teasing, his anger, his unreasonable handsomeness, his millions of pet peeves and trigger words, his clinginess, his distance, his days and nights, ups and downs, his hate and love all tied into one. he made you love him, knowing you would never get to love another katsuki bakugou.

5) the acceptance

acceptance was bakugou realizing how badly he fucked up.

part 2 soon!

2K notes · View notes

bokutosbabe · 4 months ago

Text

Now I'm Covered In You

(bllk boys as boyfriends)

a / n — thought making another post in this form would be fun, so i hope you enjoy!

content — bllk characters x reader, gn! reader, pet names used in a few parts, sadly canon otoya i fear, misspelled words are there for a reason i swear, cheater! otoya and oliver, some characters repeated, lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis — bllk boys and what type of boyfriend they'd be

✿.｡. “ how's one to know? ” .｡.✿

—The Romantic One

is always planning surprises for you, and i mean always. there's not a single week where you aren't being taken on 'adventures' that always lead you to a different restaurant.

what's the point in having all this money and not spending it on you?

they are constantly writing you love letters and poems. well, they try to anyway. they're not the best with their words and with many spelling mistakes, rather liking to show with actions, but they tried for you.

usually their poems end up something like this

' roses are red

so is my heart

my darling

my deer

my sweet buttercup

you taste just like a

tasty soda pop '

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ISAGI YOICHI, shido ryusei, jyubei aryu, ALEXIS NESS

— The Player

you know the famous saying, "how you get them is how you lose them?" yeah that's exactly how this relationship is.

you'd been one of their many side quests while they had a relationship going on. eventually after they'd ended said relationship, they'd chose you as their next partner.

they do spoil you with many gifts, mostly after you catch them cheating on you for the umpteenth time, but you stayed because they 'loved you'

sure they told you they loved you, but that wasn't really the case when they'd broken up with you because you were 'boring' them.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ OTOYA EITA, oliver aiku

— The Protector

is constantly worrying about you and is looking out for your safety.

with them being this 'big bad' soccer player, many people refuses to even look you in the eyes when you were with them. but if someone dared to hit on you when they walk off for a second? please pray for them.

some guy could be asking you for directions and he'd come up behind you and wrap an arm around you without even uttering a word. you didn't have to look at them to know the look they were giving the man was nothing but deadly.

some may call it controlling, but you knew them, they just wanted to keep you safe from all these men.

you had him, who else would you need?

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ KUNIGAMI RENSUKE, rin itoshi, SHOEI BARO, tabito karasu

— The Funny (insane) One

is constantly making jokes- some that aren't funny - but you laugh anyways.

everyone always asks you how your relationship is doing so well, and the answer is always, " i don't know," because you genuinely don't. yes, the two of you get into arguments, and sometimes the two of you get heated enough to have to take time apart from each other, but you always come back together.

how?

because they always forget what the fight was even about and come back into your space to show you some cat meme they believe you would like.

and the two of you laugh until you feel better again.

maybe you don't know how your relationship is so healthy, but you know why you're happy.

because they take the time to make you laugh.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ BACHIRA MEGURU, RYUSEI SHIDO, gin gagamaru, seishiro nagi

— The Traditional One

dates. Dates. DATES!!

they took you on soooo many dates before officially asking you to be their partner.

they definitely give the vibes of "my mom taught me i needed to..."

just the best gentleman!

you need to step over a puddle? they're putting their jacket down over it for you (it wasn't necessary, but they insisted on it)

you talked about wanting to see a movie once? he's already bought the tickets.

if you get married? he's insisting you stay home

" a pretty face like you doesn't need to work, i'll provide us everything." in his words

will do anything for you, really.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ YUKIMIYA KENYU, michael kaiser (pls ignore the mom part), REO MIKAGE, oliver aiku (again)

✿.｡. “ i'd meet you where the spirit meets the bone ” .｡.✿

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

928 notes · View notes

shanastoryteller · 7 months ago

Note

Happy birthday!! Harry Potter or Percy Jackson please!!

a continuation of 1 2 3

There's something off about Percy.

Actually, Thalia should rephrase - there are several things extremely off about Percy. It's not worth repeating, and barely worth saying, because they're all just that obvious.

They're sitting around a fire in the middle of the woods, Luke cooking the several fish that Percy had managed to spear onto his sword, which was ridiculous for an entirely different set of reasons.

"Are you a god?" she asks suspiciously.

He makes a choking sound that she thinks might be a laugh and he gives her a grin that she refuses to be charmed by. Luke is doing that enough for all of them. "Oddly, not the first time I've been asked that, but I'm just as much a demigod as you are. My mother's mortal."

"Present tense," Annabeth says, her little face screwed up into a scowl. "She's not dead, then. Is she mean?"

"Annabeth," she and Luke say at the same time. One day they're going to teach this girl tact.

Percy shakes his head, leaning back on his hands, completely unphased by Annabeth's directness. That's a point in his favor. But only a very little one. "Nah, she's great. Best mom there is. But she's mortal, and I'm," he gestures to himself.

A demigod as powerful as Percy must attract a lot of monsters, ones that he can apparently deal with, but would be deadly to his mother. Thalia feels a twinge of sympathy. It's one thing to have the messed up family dynamics that she, Luke, and Annabeth do, and it's another to have a mother that he loves and cares for and who he can't be around with endangering her life. "How long have you been on your own?"

His gaze goes distant and maybe she could learn some tact herself, but she thought it was a simple question, just factual and not personal. "I haven't lived with my mom full time since I was twelve, but I wasn't exactly on my own."

"Camp," Luke says, a hardness to his gaze.

Percy's lips twitch. "Chiron doesn't know who I am. But almost everyone who trained me did come from Camp Half-Blood."

"Including who taught you how to use a sword?" Luke asks. Thalia knows he takes pride in his swordsmanship, and she also knows that Percy is better than he is. Part of inviting him along was probably to get Percy to teach him, which Thalia can stomach a bit better than Luke getting distracted by a pretty face.

Percy goes quiet again, gazing at Luke with an expression that makes Thalia shift closer to Annabeth. "Yeah. They were from camp too."

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #girlnic #pjo

497 notes · View notes

schemmentigfs · 17 days ago

Text

Sweetening the Deal.

Summary: Feeling stuck and desperate for a change in life, you meet Melissa Schemmenti, a sophisticated and wealthy woman at a bar. As you talk, a beneficial arrangement is made —you become her sugar baby in exchange for financial support and a life of luxury.

Tags: @italianaidiota @lisaannwaltersbra

Part 2.

It was supposed to be easy. You’d been in these types of arrangements before — usually with someone older, someone with the means to provide. A little fun, some affection, an exchange of care and comfort for the right lifestyle. It was straightforward.

Nothing that serious, just someone to take care of you, spoil you with a luxurious life, and maybe provide some excitement every once in a while. And you’d gotten good at playing the role, keeping the personal stuff at arm’s length and only showing the parts that were needed to make it work. You had your own reasons for this, but when it came down to it, it was all about getting something you needed, and being charming enough to keep it flowing.

You were only twenty-four, yet the strain of trying to make ends meet had already worn on you. You lived in a rundown apartment with leaky pipes and cracked walls, a place that felt more like a shelter than a home. The thin walls meant you could hear every fight between your neighbors, every sound from the street below. It was cheap, sure, but every night you’d lie awake, listening to the hum of the old radiator, wondering how long you could keep going like this.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You’d always imagined yourself living with a bit more security by now, maybe even enjoying the occasional luxury. Instead, your days blurred together in a monotony of bills, grocery budgets, and stretching the little you had to last. You’d settled into a job that, while stable, had slowly begun to drain you. The paychecks were barely enough to cover rent, groceries, and the never-ending list of repairs your landlord promised to fix but never did. Each month, it felt like you were just one unexpected expense away from drowning.

The job itself didn’t help. It was the kind that offered no thrill, no satisfaction — just a steady flow of hours clocked in and clocked out, all while your dreams of something more started to gather dust. You’d watch others, people who seemed to glide through life without a care, and wondered what it would feel like to have even a fraction of that ease.

So when someone with money crossed your path, offering more than just their captivating presence, it felt like a window opening, a brief glimpse into a different world. A world where you didn’t have to worry about leaky pipes or thin walls, where you could shed the weight of all those unfulfilled promises and simply live — at least for a little while.

It felt odd to pretend to be interested in someone just for the benefits. Unfortunately there was no out. Since you were a child, you’d known that life was rarely fair. Your mom had made sure of that. She was a single mother, a fiercely determined woman who raised you on her own after a messy divorce. She didn’t sugarcoat things, either; she’d tell you straight-up that the world could be a cruel place, especially for a woman trying to make it alone.

From her, you learned early that being good wasn’t always enough. She taught you resilience, to work hard and keep your expectations realistic, to push forward even when things felt impossible. And, maybe unintentionally, she taught you that sometimes, you had to rely on yourself more than anyone else because no one was going to hand you anything.

Even as a kid, you’d seen the way she struggled, how she’d sacrificed and held herself together. You watched her scrape together everything you had, keeping a brave face for your sake even when the weight of it all clearly pressed down on her. She made it through, but not without that look of fatigue that never seemed to leave her eyes.

So you understood, maybe better than most, that life wasn’t likely to hand you anything easy — and that the only way to get what you wanted was to reach for it. Maybe that’s why you found yourself here now, doing what you needed to do to get by, even if it meant letting someone else take care of you for once.

But then you met Melissa Schemmenti, and everything you thought you understood got turned upside down. And most importantly, your life changed in ways that you never imagined it would.

The first time you’d first spotted her, you weren’t even focused on choosing her as a target.

It was a rainy Friday night when you first saw the mysterious fiery redhead— sitting alone at the bar in a rich neighborhood in Philadelphia. She was sipping on a whiskey neat, her sharp features softened in the dark light, the flicker of the warm candles in the background making her sharp green eyes gleam in a way that almost took your breath away. It wasn’t her beauty that struck you, though. It was the way she seemed untouchable, confident in her own skin, like she didn’t need anyone, but still drew people in with an effortless ease.

You were just finishing a drink, waiting out the weather, when your gaze drifted back to her in the corner of the room.

She looked intense, yet somehow at ease. Her red hair, loose and wild, framed a striking face: strong cheekbones, sharp nose, and expressive green eyes that had a way of flicking around the room, as if daring anyone to get in her way. And yet, there was a warmth there too — a quiet vulnerability hidden in the curve of her mouth, softer than you’d imagined someone with such a sharp, no-nonsense face would carry.

“Interesting,” you whispered to yourself after realizing that no one, not a single man or woman, dared to approach her.

You’d seen people steal glances, some lingering a bit too long, but no one made a move. It was like there was some unspoken rule, as if the invisible space around her held a warning.

It made you even more curious.

For a while, you just watched, mesmerized by the way she sipped her whiskey with a kind of measured focus, her full red lips pressing into the glass like she was enjoying every second of it. The sleeves of her fitted blazer clung to toned arms, and her fingers were adorned with rings, each one sparkling softly in the light. Melissa’s neck was full of golden necklaces. That you assumed it had a Catholic meaning due to her small cross. Her frame was strong, curvy in all the best ways, carrying herself like someone who knew exactly who she was.

She looked like she didn’t need anything from anyone. But there was something in her gaze that suggested she’d be open to the right offer.

“Why isn’t anyone going up to her?” you scoffed, shaking your head and getting up from your seat. Unable to hide your intrigue. “I mean, she’s… well, she’s gorgeous.”

You’d barely taken a few steps toward the bar when Fran, the bartender leaned over, giving you a look that was somewhere between concerned and amused. She was a middle-aged woman with graying hair and a motherly vibe, the kind of person who seemed to know everyone’s business — especially when it came to her regulars.

“You sure about that one, sweet face?” she asked, nodding her head toward Melissa, who was still nursing her drink in the corner. And had ordered a lemon margarita.

You glanced back at the stranger, then back at Fran, frowning slightly in confusion. “What do you mean, Francis?”

The woman chuckled, wiping down the counter with a practiced hand. “Schemmenti doesn’t exactly do things halfway. People say she’s got a temper like a firecracker and a heart just as tough. You’d be surprised at how fast things get messy with her.” She paused, giving you a pointed look. “Not to mention, she doesn’t have the patience for games.”

Intrigued, you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “And why’s that?”

Fran shrugged, but her gaze softened a little. “She’s been through some things, that’s all. Divorces and family issues. Got her walls up pretty high. Not just anyone makes it past them. If you’re thinking of walking up to her, just… be ready for whatever comes with it. She doesn’t like anyone wasting her time.”

You felt a spark of excitement mingle with the nerves, and your frown shifted into something closer to a smile. “Well,” you said slowly. “I guess I like a challenge.”

The middle aged woman shook her head, a knowing smirk on her face. “Suit yourself, sweetheart. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

But despite the warning, you couldn’t shake the pull you felt. If anything, it only made you more determined.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

With that, you picked up your drink and walked over to her, ignoring Fran’s amused shake of the head as she muttered. “Good luck, kid.”

Alright, here goes nothing.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you as you made your way toward her. The atmosphere in the bar seemed to quiet, the soft murmur of conversations fading into the background. Every step felt deliberate, calculated — but your heart was racing nonetheless.

Sliding into the seat next to her, you gave her a bold smile, one you hoped was as confident as she looked. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Melissa didn’t even glance your way. She lifted her glass, taking a slow sip, her gaze still focused across the bar, as if you hadn’t spoken at all. She looked composed and relaxed, her red waves falling around her shoulders, but there was an edge to her silence that made it clear she wasn’t the type to entertain small talk with strangers.

Still, you weren’t one to back down easily. You leaned in just a touch, close enough to catch a faint hint of her perfume. Something dark and warm, with notes of amber.

“So… is there a reason you’re quiet and alone, or do you just enjoy intimidating everyone who looks your way?”

At that, she finally turned to look at you, her gaze sharp and assessing. Those green eyes bore into you, sizing you up without an ounce of pretense. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a spark of curiosity there — maybe even a hint of amusement, though she hid it well.

“You know, it would be inelegant for a pretty lady like you to refuse a drink offer like that.”

That earned you the slightest shift, a flicker of her eyes cutting in your direction. But just as quickly, she looked away once more, taking another deliberate sip from her glass, pointedly ignoring you.

Alright, she was tough. But you’d expected that.

Clearing up your throat, you tried again. “Can I buy you a drink?”

For a moment, Melissa barely looked at you again, her attention fixed on her drink, her elegant fingers tracing the rim of her glass. Then, slowly, she turned those sharp eyes your way, raising a single eyebrow in skepticism. “You think I can’t buy my own drink, sweetheart?”

Caught a little off guard, you chuckled, brushing off her cold response. “Oh, I’m sure you could buy out the whole bar if you wanted. Just thought you might enjoy a little company."

The corner of her mouth quivered in a faint, almost amused smile, though her expression remained guarded. “Is that so? Are you always this forward with strangers, or am I that special?”

You met her gaze, refusing to back down, though you felt the intensity of her stare like a challenge. “I could ask you the same thing. I doubt I’m the first person who’s tried their luck tonight.”

That actually made her laugh — a low, genuine sound that surprised you with its warmth. She finally looked at you fully, leaning back just a bit, her eyes still sharp but now a little more intrigued. “Plenty try. Few get this far,” she said, taking a sip of her drink, studying you over the rim of her glass.

“Guess I’m lucky then,” you replied, matching her gaze. “Or maybe you’re just curious.”

She looked you up and down, a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. “What’s your name, doll?”

“Y/N.“ You introduced yourself, feeling the thrill of her attention settling fully on you.

She offered a hand, her grip firm, fingers warm and soft against your skin. “Melissa,” she said simply, with a smirk that told you she already knew her name alone carried weight.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too, hon,” she replied softly, almost too sweetly.

The air between you felt different now, charged, as though something had shifted. You couldn’t quite place it, but you knew one thing: she was far more than the icy exterior she wore.

“So,” you started firmly, eager to keep the conversation flowing. “What brings someone like you to a place like this?”

Melissa raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling into a knowing smile. “You really want to know?” she asked, her voice dropping slightly, the undertone suddenly sharper, almost dangerous.

You nodded, sensing you were getting somewhere.

“Maybe I just enjoy the quiet,” she said, her gaze sliding over to the rest of the bar, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass. “Or maybe I like the kind of people who think they can handle me. You know, the ones who think they can get past the walls.”

There it was. That wall. You hadn’t been wrong about it earlier.

You leaned a little closer, the space between you diminishing. “Well, I like a good challenge,” you said, tone lowering slightly as you met her eyes. “And I don’t back down easily.”

The older woman studied you for a long moment, her lips pressing together in contemplation. There was something unspoken in the way she looked at you, like she was trying to figure out if you were just another curiosity or something more.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the space between the two of you suddenly too much. It was as if you were both waiting for the other to make the next move.

Finally, she spoke again, but this time, her voice was quieter, more intimate. “Is that so? Well, I hope you’re not disappointed.”

Without another word, she stood, surprising you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but follow her gaze as she turned her attention to the bartender.

“I’m leaving for now,” she said, her tone dismissive but with a hint of warmth beneath it. “But if you want to keep up, sweetheart, you’ll have to be quicker than that.”

Before you could respond, Melissa leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek — quick, but there was something sensual about the way her lips lingered for just a second longer than you’d expected.

“Melissa? What are you doing?” you prompted nervously. Your body language gave away how much desperate you were.

Her breath brushed against your ear as she whispered. “You better be ready for more than you bargained for.”

And just like that, Melissa Schemmenti was gone, but not before she slid a sleek business card across the counter toward you. “Call me if you think you can be a good girl and handle it,” she said, her eyes meeting yours one last time, a smirk on her lips.

The card was heavy in your hand as you stared at it, wondering what the hell you had just gotten yourself into. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny the shivers racing through you.

Before you could process it all, the bartender's voice cut through the moment, the amusement clear in her tone. “Looks like someone’s in for the ride of their life.”

You didn’t even respond, your focus still entirely on the card in your hand. that redheaded woman had left you breathless, but there was no denying it — you were already hooked.

After Melissa left, you spent the rest of the night at the bar, her business card tucked safely in your pocket, your mind racing. Who was Melissa Schemmenti? That name. “Schemmenti,” lingered, something about it sparking a vague sense of familiarity. It didn’t take long for curiosity to win over. The moment you got home, you grabbed your phone and typed her name into the search bar.

Almost immediately, a series of results popped up — news articles, restaurant reviews, family business profiles. The Schemmentis were, without a doubt, a well-known name in the city. They were a prominent Italian family with a long history of running high-end, family-owned restaurants and food businesses. Each article seemed to mention the family's deeply rooted traditions, their reputation for intense loyalty, and an unyielding commitment to quality that set their establishments apart.

There were photos of various family members attending restaurant openings and charity events. Most of them shared that same unmistakable look: sharp features, intense eyes, a confidence that seemed to radiate through the screen. But none of them held the same aura she had. You kept scrolling, searching, until finally, a photo caught your eye — a candid shot of Melissa herself, standing beside what looked like an older family member at an event. She was dressed elegantly, her green eyes striking even in the low-quality photo. Her signature smirk was there, too, as if she knew more than anyone else around her.

Digging a little deeper, you found hints that the Schemmentis weren’t just known for their restaurants. Whispers and rumors hinted at connections beyond the culinary world. It was all speculation, of course, nothing concrete — but there was talk of ties to old-school family loyalty, the kind that ran a bit deeper than the surface.

You couldn’t help but wonder what that meant for Melissa. She had a presence that felt untouchable, like she existed in a world all her own, one you’d barely scratched the surface of. Still, that made her even more intriguing.

Scrolling through more photos, you spotted one of her in front of the family’s flagship restaurant, a chic Italian bistro that was famous across the city. It looked upscale, all dark wood and gold accents, the kind of place you’d need a reservation months in advance for. The family had a reputation for authenticity, keeping recipes as close to the homeland as possible — a fact that seemed to add to the almost mythical image they cultivated in the food scene.

“Crap,” you sighed softly. “She’s more powerful than I thought.”

You leaned back in your chair, your mind spinning with the informations. Melissa was far more than just the striking woman you’d met at the bar. She was a part of this powerful, well-established family, one that had its hands in nearly every major social event and high-profile gathering in Philadelphia. The more you thought about it, the more you realized just how far removed you were from her world. But that only made you want her more.

You found another link, this one detailing a series of more extravagant gala events the. Subtle shots of Melissa made their way into the article — always in the background, always looking stunning, but always with that same cool, untouchable demeanor. The more you saw, the more you wanted to know.

A part of you wondered if you were getting in way over your head. But the other part — the part that was curious, that wanted to know everything about her — pushed those thoughts aside.

You glanced back at the card, and something in the back of your mind clicked. The business card. It wasn’t just a way to contact her. It was a way into her world. It was a ticket, maybe, to something bigger than you’d ever imagined. If you were going to do this, to pursue whatever this was between you two, you’d have to play it smart. You’d have to prove you were more than just another curious young woman.

With a deep breath, you typed in the number on the card. Your thumb hovered over the send button for a moment, then pressed it. Your heart beat faster than usual. This could be the start of something dangerous, something intoxicating. Or it could fizzle out, like so many other fleeting moments.

But you didn’t think it would. Not with her.

You took a breath, steeling your nerves as you composed the message. It took you a few drafts to strike the right tone, something that wouldn’t come off too eager but still got the point across. Finally, you sent a simple, Hey, it’s me from the bar. Would love to see you again if you’re interested.

A few seconds passed. Then a minute. You began to wonder if you’d misread everything and were ready to chalk it up to a learning experience when your phone buzzed, and her name — “Melissa Schemmenti” — appeared on your screen.

Thought you would never reach. Meet me tomorrow. At seven. La Sirena. Ask for a table under ‘Schemmenti.’ Don’t be late, sweetheart.

Shit.

La Sirena was a well-known Italian restaurant. Upscale, expensive, and not the kind of place you could typically afford. Just seeing her name there made your stomach flutter, excitement mingling with nerves. You quickly typed back an “I’ll be there” and spent the rest of the evening thinking about what you’d wear, what you’d say, and how you’d keep your composure.

On Saturday evening, you arrived at La Sirena early. You wore the nicest outfit you could put together, something classic and understated, hoping it would hold up to the restaurant's sophisticated atmosphere. Walking into the lavish space, you felt a bit out of place, but you kept your head high as you approached the host and asked for the Schemmenti reservation.

“Right this way,” he said with a polite smile, leading you to a private table in a quiet corner of the restaurant. Melissa was already seated, her gaze locked on the menu. When she looked up at you, a slow smile spread across her lips, and you couldn’t help but notice how stunning she looked, her red hair cascading over her shoulders, accentuating the sharpness of her cheekbones and the piercing green of her eyes.

“You made it,” she said, almost surprised as she gestured for you to sit. “And on time, too. I like that.”

You settled into your seat, feeling her eyes on you as you tried to calm your racing heart. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything,” you replied, offering her a face that you hoped masked the mix of awe and nerves.

The redhead frowned, setting her menu down to focus fully on you. “So, tell me, what exactly are you looking for? A young woman doesn’t approach me in a bar without a reason.”

Her directness caught you by suprise, but you appreciated it. Taking a breath, you decided to be just as straightforward. “Honestly? I need some support. Financially,” you admitted, your face softening. “My job barely covers my bills, and… well, I could use a hand.”

Melissa’s expression didn’t change, though her eyes lingered on you for a moment, weighing your words. She leaned back, crossing her legs, her gaze assessing. “And in return, you’d be… what? At my beck and call? Or are you looking for something more traditional?” Her voice was low, almost teasing, but there was an edge of seriousness there.

You swallowed, feeling the intensity of her words. “I’m open to whatever you’re looking for. I want to be someone you enjoy spending time with, whatever that might look like.”

Her smile widened slightly, a glint of amusement flashing in her eyes. “I don’t do traditional. But I do like arrangements that benefit both parties.” She reached for her glass, taking a slow sip as she considered you. “Here’s what I want: someone who can hold a conversation, someone who knows when to keep things discreet. I don’t need drama, and I don’t need clinginess. Think you can handle that?”

You nodded, your own excitement growing at the proposition. “I can handle that. I’m not looking to complicate things — just to be here when you want me.”

She seemed pleased by your answer, nodding slightly. “Good. Then I think we understand each other.” She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with something you couldn’t quite place. “And let’s get one thing straight, pretty girl. If I want to spoil you, you’ll let me. No protesting. Understood?”

A small smile crept onto your lips, the warmth of her presence making you feel bolder. “Understood, ma’am.”

“That’s a good girl.”

Green eyes softened for a moment, her gaze dropping to your lips. And before you could process what was happening, she leaned across the table, her hand cupping your cheek as she pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. Her lips were soft, her touch featherlight yet intoxicating.

When she pulled back, her voice dropped to a whisper, almost as if she were sharing a secret. “Then it’s a deal.”

Your pulse raced as she sat back, casually reaching into her black purse to pull out an envelope. She slid it across the table toward you, her fingers grazing yours as she did.

“Just a little something to get you started,” she murmured, with a wink that was both playful and possessive. “It has a sum of five thousand dollars inside. It should help you for now, every week I can send you more. If you keep your promise.”

You took the envelope, feeling the weight of it in your hands. The gesture was more than generous, but it was the way she looked at you — with that blend of intensity and control — that made you realize what you were truly getting into. And for the first time in a long time, you felt safe, secure, and undeniably captivated.

As the evening unfolded, you couldn't help but feel the weight of what was happening. There was a sense of excitement, of possibility — but also a sharp, nagging thought that reminded you to tread carefully.

Don’t confuse things.

You couldn’t afford to get attached.

That was the key. This was supposed to be a simple arrangement, something that filled the gaps where your paycheck fell short. You weren't looking for something complicated, something emotional. Not with her. Not with someone like Melissa, who had power, elegance, and control in everything she did. She could snap her fingers, and people would fall in line. She was the kind of woman who played the game and always won.

You knew how this worked — a sugar baby and a sugar mommy. It was transactional, not romantic. You could enjoy the new life, yes, but you couldn’t let yourself get caught up in the emotions. You couldn't fall for her. You couldn’t let yourself start imagining more than what this was.

As the conversation carried on, Melissa’s wicked smirk never faltered, her focus entirely on you as she made her offers and requests while learning more about you. But underneath it all, you kept reminding yourself: No fucking attachments. You couldn’t afford them.

But even as you made that mental note, as you stared at her with those smoldering green eyes and that effortless poise, you felt something shift inside. A part of you that couldn’t quite ignore the magnetic pull she had over you, the allure that was impossible to escape.

Still, you had to stay grounded. This was just a business arrangement. Nothing more, right?

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x y/n #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti

251 notes · View notes

enhas-pov · 2 months ago

Text

enemies by blood

summary: born in a mafia family definitely wasn’t easy. especially when your dad’s enemy’s son, park sunghoon goes to your school. reader and sunghoon grew up hating each other due to their father’s bad past with each other, but what’s gonna happen when they want their kids to finish what they started?

warnings: (gang)violence, lots of fighting, murder, blood, drugs, money laundering, guns, kissing, usage of "oppa", pet names, bad ending

word count: 4.5k

note: i haven’t read through it‼️ ignore spelling mistakes

pt.2

════════════════════════

my whole life i`ve felt like an outsider. people always look at me weird, they give me dirty looks, but at the same time theyre afraid of me. all because of my family.. my dad to be specific. since before i was born, my dad has been a part of this mafia gang thingy where drugs, guns, killing, and all of that stuff was involved. so growing up i was taught most of those things. id say im pretty good at fighting, and using guns. my mom on the other hand died when i was 10, she was killed by some guy that my dad was having problems with.. ive never met someone who can relate to me whatsover, except for park sunghoon.

sunghoon goes to the same school as me and grew up exactly like i did, and when i say exactly i mean EXACTLY. his dad is a part of a mafia gang too, so sunghoon grew up involved with that as well just like i did, and guess what? his mom got killed by a guy his dad was having problems with as well. if you put two and two together.. my dad killed sunghoons mom so sunghoon`s dad killed my mom, which is one of the reasons why sunghoon and i grew up hating each other.

my dad told me that him and mr. park used to be a part of the same gang, they were actually really close friends until something happened between the two of them that ruined their friendship and caused them to turn on each other. basically, my dad and mr. park were planning a huge drug deal, but for some reason mr. park tipped off the cops to make sure all the money made off the drug deal would be his, so when my dad got arrested for it he spent 10 years in prison. and when he got out he killed sunghoons mom as revenge, but when mr. park killed my mom for revenge because of his wife`s death, it made things worse between the two.

i was sat in the backseat of the fancy car i was driven to school with everyday by my dads personal driver, min. i was not allowed to walk to school and especially not alone. my dad told me there are people who know about me and that since im his daughter they kinda want me dead.. which is understandable? i guess, considering the kind of shit my dad does to these people. "were here, miss y/l/n" my driver says, parked right in front of my school. "thank you-" i was two seconds away from getting out of the car before i was stopped by my drivers very concerned voice. "wait, mr. park is right behind us. would you like to wait?" i rolled my eyes at his words, not giving a care in the world about park fucking sunghoon. "i`m okay. thank you, min"

the second i made my way out of the car i was met with sunghoons tall figure stood not too far behind me. he threw a glare at me that i quickly returned which he rolled his eyes at. as we both started walking to the entryway of our school, we were pretty much walking next to each other, obviously, since we were going the same way. "thought the teacher told you to cover up?" he suddenly says, referring to my choice of clothing, his eyes looking straight ahead as hes avoiding any and all eye contact with me.

"you were the one who went complaining to our teacher about it, acting like what i was wearing wasn’t making your dick hard" he only chuckled at my words. once we reached the entryway, he opened the door and stood to the side. he grinned, "ladies first" he said. i gave him a fake smile and walked through the open door. right as he was about to walk in from behind me, i slammed the door shut in his face and locked it so he couldn`t get in no matter what. i watched him banging on the door and yelling at me to open it. "oppa! i think the back door is open" i said loud enough for him to hear, knowing its a good 5 minute walk to get there. i laughed at how furious he was before making my way to class.

i guess you could say me and sunghoon act childish with each other sometimes. we argue a lot over dumb, unnecessary and small shit for no reason. we could choose to ignore each other but since i have it out for him and he has it out for me, its hard not to say anything every time we come across each other. we`re not exactly like our dads. we dont pull a gun on each other every time we cross paths, but do not get me wrong. there are times when our silly little arguments have evolved and turned into something much bigger causing a physical fight ending in blood and injuries. but its always been between just the two of us, we`ve never involved our dads or anything because we seem to just handle it on our own.

"i hope everyone here studied for their exams, you had all week and i will be disappointed in you if you fail" our teacher was walking around and placing the exam papers on each one of our desks. suddenly, at the sound of the door being slammed open, everyone turned their heads just to see sunghoon standing by the door looking pissed. "mr. park! it is one thing to come late to my class to take your exam, but its another thing to slam my door open and interrupt me" watching our teacher yell at sunghoon really made my day, especially the embarassed look on his face which made me smile to myself.

"im sorry, miss. i had to come in through the back door since-" before he could rat me out, he got cut off by our teacher who decided to yell at him once again. "i don`t want to hear it mr. park. take your seat and be quiet" sunghoon glared at me silently before he made his way to his desk which just happened to be right next to mine. i was expecting him to start throwing childish insults at me, but to my surprise he looked down at the piece of paper in front of him in complete silence. odd, but i couldnt be bothered to start anything during our exams.

"you guys have 1 hour to finish your exams starting from now" the room went completely quiet once everyone turned their heads down and started writing down on the piece of paper. i was focused on my exam until i felt something press down on my foot. confused, i look underneath my desk to see that its someone whos pressing down on my foot with their own. of course when i look up to see who it is, its sunghoon. hes not looking at me as his eyes are stuck to the paper in front of him, instead he uses his pen to point at a tiny note right next to his paper. i can see that theres something written on it, but since i couldnt make it out i decided to lean over his table a bit. squinting my eyes, i read the words "shouldn`t have locked me out pretty thing" pretty thing? really? is he referring to me as a thing? what an ass..

"miss. ___ is looking at my papers" wait, what?! i look up at sunghoon whos smirking at me, ew.. before turning to our teacher who looks like shes actually about to kill me.

"miss, i wasn’t-"

"i dont want to hear it! detention now, miss y/l/n"

fucking unbelievable. if im gonna miss my exam and end up in detention, you sure as hell know sunghoon will too. i tried not to lose my shit, grabbing my backpack before "accidentally" tripping over sunghoons desk which kinda revealed a bit of my behind to everyone in class. "miss! sunghoon just tripped me on purpose.." i said, acting all shy and embarrassed about how my skirt flipped over. "shes fucking lying!" sunghoon stood up from his desk and i could tell he was gonna lash out on me.

"am not! you tripped me over that desk on purpose you fucking pervert-"

"watch your mouth you lying piece of shit!"

while me and sunghoon were lashing out on each other, we didn`t notice how our teacher was red in the face like she was about to explode out of anger. "that`s enough! you guys are grown enough to know not to be using that sort of language, nor to be arguing like little kids! you should know to act better. detention for the both of you right now!" she yelled in our faces while everyone else were sat staring at us awkwardly.

both me and sunghoon were now sat in detention. we also just happened to be the only ones here, along with a teacher tho.. sunghoon was sat on the other side of the classroom as he wished to not be near me at all, which i’m glad for. i was scrolling through my phone when the teacher suddenly got up from the chair he was sat on. “alright. i’ve got a wife and kids to get home to, so you two better behave on your own until school is finished” and then he left just like that, leaving me and sunghoon all alone. "cant believe i`m missing my exam because of you.." i spat, breaking the silence. "maybe if you hadn`t locked me out i wouldn`t have done what i did. besides, the stunt you pulled really just proves my point. you really are a slut-" and this is usually how our fights start.

gripping the book in my hands that was on my desk, i quickly threw it in sunghoons direction and his instincts kicked in instantly. he dodged the book which flew right past his head, hitting the wall with a harsh thud that left a noticeable mark. "nice try princess" he pushed his desk to the side and began walking towards me as he was visibly angry. i ducked as fast as i could when he swung his fist at me. i felt a rush of air across my face that his fist had missed. "a man hitting a woman? that`s not very man-like of you" i twisted my body as i attempted to throw a kick at his knee, but sunghoon was quick to jump back which resulted in my foot connecting with the wall instead. "fuck!"

"dont hurt yourself now" sunghoon smirked before his next punch successfully caught me across my cheek, causing a sharp pain which made me stumble backwards. suck it up.. i launched myself forward and managed to tackle him down. with sunghoon on the ground, i was now straddling him with my fists positioned in the air right above his face. we were both breathing heavily as sunghoon struggled to get away from underneath me. "are you getting weaker, park sunghoon?" i asked, lowering my fists before getting back up on my feet. "youre saying that as if you didnt take the most damage" he panted, sitting himself up against the wall. "yet i`m not the one whos out of breath" i grabbed my backpack and made my way out of the classroom as i couldn`t be bothered to deal with his bullshit anymore, and i could feel his eyes on me as i walked out.

"dad! im home" i walked into the kitchen with no sight of my dad. i jumped when i saw my dads personal driver sat at the kitchen table. "min? you scared me. wheres dad?" i sat down next to him, placing my backpack on the floor. "your dad is currently in a meeting, hell be back soon. how did your exam go?" i watched him eat his food as i had no idea what to say to that. "couldnt have gone better.." i lied. he hummed, "if youre wondering, then no, i didn`t tell your dad i saw you and mr. park having a conversation on your way inside" i furrowed my eyebrows at him. why did he think he had to keep something like that away from my dad? we weren`t exactly saying positive things to each other, unless he thinks..

"ew, no! its most definitely not like that. we do talk sometimes, but its just shit talking about each other to each others faces" i said, not missing the way he threw me a look that screamed "i don`t believe you". i rolled my eyes playfully,

"i do not like sunghoon whatsoever-"

"i`d hope so"

i heard a voice say. turning around, i saw my dad walking into the kitchen with a lot of papers in his hands. "min, these are for you" he handed him a few of the papers which min accepted and thanked him for before he got up from his chair. i watched my dad sit down on the chair min was just sat on, "what did i hear you talking about just now?" he questioned, placing the rest of the papers on the table in front of him as he started going through them one by one.

"my exam" i said, which wasn`t completeley a lie. he turned to look at me, raising his eyebrows before looking back at his papers. "i was meaning to talk to you about sunghoon" what? why sunghoon out of all people? "you were..?" i asked, feeling myself getting a little nervous. "you know, sunghoon is no different from his father. he`s just as bad as him" i hummed as i was trying not to show how desperate i was for him to get to the point. "i was originally planning on doing this myself, but i figured that it would be a better for you to do it, since you "do not like sunghoon whatsoever""

"well, ur right about that. what is it that you want me to do dad?" he paused before he took a deep breath. he turned to me slightly and placed his hand on my shoulder, "sweetheart". he finally said as curiosity started taking over me. he hesitated for a second and it kinda freaked me out. was this gonna be some sort of arranged marrige? did he know about our fight today? or maybe- "i want you to kill sunghoon" what?! kill sunghoon..? i’d lie if i say i didn`t hate him, but ive never gone as far as to actually wanting to murder him.. i never have, never will, never wanted to and never planned on taking someone’s life, even if it`s someone who i despise.

“i know i’m asking for a lot-“

“asking for a lot? dad, you’re asking me to take someone’s life..”

“sweetheart, i know. but unfortunately this isn’t a choice” i watched him in horror as no words were able to leave my mouth. “you will do what i’m asking you to do. you wouldn’t want to disappoint your father, right?” he stood up from his chair, looking down on me demanding that i give him an answer. “y-yes dad..” i managed to get out, not bothering to look at him. “very well then” his footsteps were heavy as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with my thoughts. i can’t kill sunghoon.. but i have to? no. i don’t have to, i think? it’s what my dad wants me to do, does that mean i should? murder is wrong, but sunghoon is a bad person. does sunghoon deserve to die? shit..

“you want me to kill ___?” sunghoon’s dad had delivered the exact same news to his son. “that’s right. she’s no different from her father” sunghoon knew that what his father was asking him for was wrong. he couldn’t bring himself to kill ___, even tho he hated her he knew that it wasn’t the right thing to do.

“dad.. i don’t know if i can-“

“don’t start with me son. when i tell you to do something, you do it. don’t act like it’ll be hard, she’s a woman after all”

a woman who could easily beat my ass.. sunghoon thought to himself. “yes father” he said. “very well then” he watched his father walk out of the room, what was he gonna do now? should he kill her just because his father told him to do so? the guilt would be with him for the rest of his life if he did. but he wouldn’t want his dad to be disappointed in him, right?

“we’re here, miss y/l/n” min said, parked in front of my school. “thank you..” i made my way out of the car and prayed to god that i wouldn’t bump into sunghoon. a whole day had gone by and i still needed to process everything. i looked around as i made my way to the entryway with no sign of sunghoon, and i was relieved when i finally reached the door. but before i could open it myself, someone had opened it from the inside. looking up, my heart dropped at the sight of sunghoon stood in front of me. i swallowed nervously as we were both stood staring at each other in complete silence.

i tried to move past him, and so did he which caused our bodies to push up against each other. “sorry..” sorry? why the fuck did i apologize? “it’s alright..” he mumbled, moving to the side so i could walk past him. not wanting to make things even more awkward, i quickly walked past him and hurried my way over to class. wait, but.. why was sunghoon acting weird as well? maybe something happened and he was dealing with a personal matter.. don’t know, don’t care. he’ll be dead soon anyway.

i’m getting ready to start working out in what my dad calls "the den" its basically this underground gym/boxing place where my dad trains along with his men, but i usually show up after they’ve all left since i like being on my own. i had put on some black shorts and a white top that hung off my shoulder on one side. i reached for a hair tie and gathered all of my hair, putting it up in a high ponytail while some strands in the front were left loose. i then carefully started wrapping my hands in hand wraps and flexing my fingers afterwards. turning to the punching bag, i was getting ready to start my usual everyday practising, but that was until i heard footsteps coming from behind me. it was weird since i thought everyone had left, but when i turned around i was at a loss of words.

"how’d you get in here..?" my voice shook, watching sunghoons tall figure leaning against the door to the entryway. "wasn’t that hard. my men took out yours in the front pretty easily" he smirked at me, fidgeting with the gun in his hands. "you can’t bring a gun to a fist fight. thats why my men lost" one by one, i watched his men gather around him; all carrying guns. "this can go two ways" he said as he started walking towards me slowly "either it’ll just be the two of us and i’ll make it quick and painless, or ill have to bring my men on it and i guarantee that it’s gonna hurt" he was stood right in front of me while looking down on me with his head tilted slightly.

was sunghoon planning on killing me too? was he doing this because he somehow found out that i was planning on killing him first? there wasn’t enough time for me to think. right now i had to focus on just one thing, and that was to live. "did your men forget to take out the ones in the back too?" i watched the smirk on his lips disappear as my men started to gather around me as they had come in through the back. all though, they weren`t armed with guns like sunghoons men were which made me really nervous. sunghoon chuckled and began walking backwards until he was stood behind his men. i pulled the same move, which meant that our men were now gonna fight against each other to protect me and sunghoon.

"seems like you can’t face us without your guns" one of my men said who was stood in the very front. sunghoons men laughed, "let’s be fair about it then, shall we?" the sound of guns being thrown on the floor made me feel relieved. suddenly, the den exploded into chaos as our men went at each other with fists flying and bodies colliding. the men’s shouting and grunting filled the entire room while me and sunghoon were stood on each sides of the room watching them.

one of my men collapsed on the ground, but before he could get back up two men tripped over him which added to the pile of bodies that were already sprawled out across the floor. the den was a mess of sweaty, bloody, injured men that had mostly been beaten to death by each other. it went by faster than i expected, and worse than i expected. all that remained were either dead bodies or knocked out bodies with no one left standing except for me and sunghoon.

"what’s the matter princess? is this too much for you?" the sound of sunghoon’s voice brought me back to reality. i was distracted by the violent scene that was right in front of me. i took a deep breath, "nothing is too much for me" i said with my eyes looking straight at him from across the room. sunghoon looked at the gun in his hands before he threw it on the ground. "like my men said, lets be fair about it" he said, placing his hands in his pockets. "you can use the gun you know? i dont mind, since this will be your last fight after all.." the tension between us was heated. sunghoon only laughed at me, "give it all you’ve got baby" with each slow step, he was now walking towards me. "don’t call me that" i spat.

he paused dangerously close to me, our bodies almost making contact. "come on baby, don’t say that" he brought his hand up to my face, but i was quick to slap his hand away with mine. with no warning, sunghoon`s fist landed with a severse thud against my ribs and i felt the force knock my breath out of me. i whimpered when i was sent stumbling into a nearby table, gripping the edge of the table for balance. i wasted no time and launched myself back at him with a kick that grazed his shoulder. he let out a groan, quickly grabbing my leg and twisting it viciously.

i let out a cry as i fell to the floor. when sunghoon tried to get on top of me, i managed to wrench my leg free by kicking at his chest with my other foot. as he stumbled backwards, i got back up on my feet as fast as i could. we were both breathing heavily and our bodies were hot with sweat. "shit princess. you’re getting better at this" he panted, lifting his fists into the air. "thank you. it means a lot coming from you, oppa" i rushed forward, this time going low so i could tackle him. the second we both crashed onto the cold floor we started wrestled fiercly. our bodies were rolling on the floor as we tried to overpower each other.

suddenly, his hands found my neck. i felt his fingers squeezing as he pressed down. my eyes widened in panic and my hands quickly went flying to his wrists; clawing at them, desperate for air. i dug my nails into his skin until it started drawing blood. he hissed in pain and ended up loosening his grip just enough for me to shove him off. i started coughing and gasping for air before kicking him hard in his chest which caused him to also gasp for air when he felt himself not being able to breathe properly.

i charged at him once again, this time aiming my elbow at his face. he barley was able to block it with his forearm before i grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head backwards. "fuck!" he groaned, retaliating by grabbing my own hair and pulling it so hard that tears started forming in my eyes. "a-ah!" i let out a shriek. we were both struggling while using the grip on each others hair to cause each other pain. with a sudden move, sunghoon yanked my head to the side and slammed my head into the wall causing my grip on his hair to loosen. my chest was rising and falling, my body sprawled out on the floor with my hair being a tangled mess. my head was pounding horribly and i couldnt bare the pain i was feeling in my body.

sunghoon took the chance and got on top of me. he leaned down with his face so close to mine that the tip of our noses were touching. i felt his heavy breath against my lips before slightly flinching at the feeling of metal against my temple. his eyes looked into mine, a smirk forming on his lips. "this is the end for you baby" he mumbled before he cocked the gun. sunghoon raised his eyebrows when i sniffled. our eyes were locked in an intense gaze. he clenched his jaw slightly, the gun in his hand shaking when he tried pressing it further into my temple. i stood still, watching every move that he was making.

"kiss me goodbye?" i said, almost sounding like a whisper. he froze like he couldnt believe what had just come out of my mouth. his grip on the gun loosened, just for a second as if he was questioning whether to kill me or not. he stared at me with his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief, unsure if i was joking or not. with the way i was looking into his eyes he could tell i was being serious when a tear rolled down my cheek. i leaned forward, my bloodied lips parting before they touched his. the kiss was soft as our lips moved together. i felt him deepening the kiss, parting his mouth as well. and with his lips still on mine, he pulled the trigger.

♡︎♡︎♡︎

i feel horrible i’m so sorry.. should i make it into a series orrr??

#enha x reader #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enha #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon #sunghoon

246 notes · View notes

ghouldtime · 2 months ago

Text

Neighbor! König Part 3

Part One Part Two

It's only after THREE MONTHS in that you find out his name isn't Kevin

Why? You overheard a phone call. A phone call with his mom

Because, to put it in small terms: König is a mama's boy

Not in the gross way that boy moms do (everyone say EWWWW) or the manchildren who think their mom can do no wrong and will always side with her over on everything. We know those guys. He's not that. Not even close

No, in the 'he genuinely loves and cares about his mother because this is the person who raised him so his respect for her and love is absolutely profound'

That's the woman who raised him, that's the person who read him bedtime stories at night when he couldn't sleep, that's the lovely lady who would let him hide behind her skirts when she'd take him into the village and people would try to say hi, she's the one and only who taught him all about the many wonders of the world and how beautiful nature is

Yeah, he's going to respect her. He loves his mom and for good reason

He calls her every day if possible because she still lives quite far away in Austria :( and things haven't been the same since his dad passed away

He doesn't live near or with her, as much as it pains him, because quite frankly: he can't risk it. He still visits as much as he can, but living with her makes her a target because he's a man with blood covering his hands and there's people who will do anything to get to him

He can't risk her like that, wouldn't ever dream of it

She understands. He doesn't tell her the extent because he can't break her heart and he's afraid she might see him different, but he does tell her HOW dangerous it could be

He will always tell her about the good things he does, though! Like saving hostages! That's always great. She's so proud of him

He might be a grown ass man at 6'7" and weighing over 250 lbs that absolutely towers over her but he will always be her sweet baby boy before anything else

He is always writing her letters and sending her packages and pictures! Letters just are more heartfelt usually and she's old fashioned, she likes having something physical to hang onto especially now that her eyesight is fading

She is always sending them in return too. His favorite coffee mugs are all shaped like little forest animals and she made them! They're precious and he's so happy holding his little hedgehog mug (even if it is a bit spiky)

ANYWAYS how you found out his name wasn't Kevin was because you heard her use his name

His real name

That wasn't Kevin or even close.

And afterwards you had to go "... uh... Kevin? Who is she talking about?"

König has never been close to this flustered before, even when you fell asleep with your head on his broad shoulders when you were watching a movie together

Time to fess up.

He at first tries to go into denial, then dismissal, but it doesn't work at all

He admits defeat. You caught him, he ISN'T Kevin. Well, he's still the same person! That's just not his name

He was too embarrassed to correct you or himself so he went with it and it kept building and building

He wanted to tell you, but it's a hard topic :( he knows he would have stumbled and stuttered over his words until he fell flat on his face

You'd find it out eventually! It's not like he put 'Kevin' on his mail or anything like that

Now, most people would rightfully feel mad and lied to

But he's turning red enough to match the roses he grows and can't seem to meet your eyes. He's sweating bullets, he's genuinely embarrassed here and feels awful about it

Maybe it's against better judgement to accept such a thing so easily but he hasn't been anything but nice to you ever since you broke down his icy walls.

(Aka he's so painfully socially awkward and flustered you feel bad for him and take pity)

And just maybe you heard the "Ich bin in dich verliebt" slip out as you took his hands in yours and assured that you liked him as him, whether he's named Kevin or not, and nothing would change that

299 notes · View notes

decentwritings · 1 month ago

Text

Chapter 5

Summary: You’re unable to grasp the luck you have. You were raised to run from danger, to go the opposite direction of bad influences. So when you somehow find yourself right in the center of it, you discover that running wasn’t exactly what you were taught. It only took GhostFace and a pretty girl to remember that.

previous part <- -> next part

"Aww, man," you whine, crossing your arms over your chest childishly. "I missed a surveillance op?"

Danny pinches the bridge of his nose, annoyed, while Tara finds your words amusing.

You all gather in your sister's home, in the kitchen where there's less mess. You sat on the floor, entertaining Blackie while Remy betrays you, choosing Tara over you. You offered the idea to discuss a few things in the home, wanting to give the sisters some puppy time. They say dogs help relieve stress, and these two do a good job of it for you. You figure they could help relieve a little of the stress before you go kill some psychos.

"How did you guys know it was me they were after?" You pat the German Shepherd's head, snapping your fingers and pointing down. He sits and pants in front of you. "Dude, go entertain the tall one, you're drooling on me," you point at Sam.

Blackie whines, glancing at Sam. Sam stares back at him, eyebrow arching. He saunters over to Sam and lifts his paw onto her knee. She rolls her eyes, but you and Danny don't miss the smile on her face as she kneels down to pet him.

"We waited for him to call us," Tara explains, smiling down at the pitbull, rubbing his belly. "But he knew we were expecting his call."

"He said he was visiting the suburbs," Sam continues, both hands holding the dog's face. She shakes his head in her hands gently and the puppy pants happily. "Then he tried to confuse us, telling us there was an old friend he needed to see first."

You raise a brow, looking over at Danny for help. He shrugs, just confused as you are.

"When he hung up, Kirby tracked his phone to two different locations." Tara explains, brushing her fingers on the top of Remy's head. The dog lays on Tara's lap, trying his best to fight off the sleep she's lulling him into. "Here and Gale's apartment."

"There are two!" you exclaim, almost giddily, because you were right.

"No," Sam deadpans, your smile dropping. "Gale just got a call. She's okay. Mindy, Chad and Ethan are with her now."

"Ethan?" you ask incredulously.

"His alibi checked out," Tara informs you and you huff again. "Anyway, we drove here as fast as we could. We used the sirens," she grins, amused by your reaction.

You groan, throwing your head back. "Aww, man, you guys drove a police car?" Tara nods, laughing at your reaction.

"This doesn't make sense," Danny speaks up, ending the intense eye contact you and Tara were having. "Why did he go after you? No offense, but you don't really have that much of a role in the recreation of their supposed movie."

"Offense taken," you comment before Sam intervenes.

"It could be you have some sort of connection to the originals..." Sam offers an idea, standing up, leaving Blackie to lay down with a whine.

"Uhh, no," you draw out, shaking your head. "My family's boring. The only interesting we have ever gotten into was them losing me at DisneyWorld," you point at Danny to verify.

Danny chuckles at the memory. "Oh yeah," he shakes his head. "Their mom nearly got them to shut the entire park down. Turns out, they were at the teacup ride just riding it over and over."

You smile, proud. "I broke the record for the most rides in a single day," you frown suddenly. "I also got my ass whooped when we got home."

"Maybe it's not about your past all," Sam crosses her arms, pondering the reason. She arches a brow at you. "Maybe you pissed them off, you have done nothing but annoy them."

Danny laughs. "It's second nature," he sends you a pointed glare.

"I make jokes when I'm uncomfortable!" You defend, lifting your hands up in mock surrender. Suddenly, you gasp, earning confused glares. "That's who Gale looks like of. Monica!"

Danny pinches the bridge of his nose again.

Sam ignores your words. "Or maybe it could be your friendship with Tara," she glances at her sister, who sends her a warning glare. "We don't know how long he's been watching us, Tara." She explains.

You furrow your brows. "I got here during summer semester," you say, confused by Sam's words. "I got stuck with Anika as a roommate because I didn't want to stay with my sister and Danny doesn't have a spare room."

"I offered you my spare room," Danny retorts. "But you didn't want to pay rent."

You wave him off. "I didn't really meet Tara until..." you tilt your head, unsure. You look over at the girl, sending her apologetic look. "We didn't meet until the party, so I don't think friendship is the right word."

Sam notices the way her sister's entire demeanor changes. Her sister avoids eye contact, clearly affected by your words.

Remy lifts his head up, snarling at you. You lift your hands up, glaring back at the dog. "What did I do?" You narrow your eyes at him.

Tara smiles again, petting the dog gently from head to tail. He wags his tail and nuzzles his face back down into her lap.

"We met at the bookstore," Tara finally speaks, drawing your attention away from the dog. "I overheard you talking to yourself about the prices of pencils being high."

You don't recall. Summer was...it was a blur. It was a summer full of airplane rides to Atlanta and back. Your dad's health was deteriorating and you actively searched for reasons to not be there to see it.

There's a sudden shift in the room, a tension that becomes noticeable only to Danny. He can see your expression change from confusion to sadness in seconds. It's then Remy stands to push his nose against your lap, pleading for you to give him space to let him be with you.

"Um," you clear your throat, unsure of where the knot came from. "GhostFace brought up my...habit of running. It's what I did this summer."

"He usually attacks emotionally first," Sam says, understanding.

"The thing is, no one knows but my family," you look at her, trying to piece together this whole thing. "My dad died last month," you finally say it out loud, but tears don't form in your eyes.

Danny feels Sam's eyes on him, but he keeps his eyes trained on you, ready to console you if you need it.

The day you got the call from your mom, you recall having plans with Anika to meet her friends. She wanted you to meet her girlfriend only, it was to show her girlfriend she didn't have to worry about you. But Mindy came with a package, her twin and Tara. And with her twin, Ethan.

You faintly remember being annoyed by their laughter. The group's loud way of communicating. The stare Ethan had on you when he thought you weren't looking.

"So, Y/N–" Tara tried to get you to join the conversation. But you're too out of it to notice.

You stood up. "I gotta go," you ran then too. You went MIA for a week before the funeral, and you only showed up to give your mom the cash you got when you sold your car.

Tara's expression softens as she listens, her fingers continuing to stroke Remy's fur, the dog returning to nestle in her lap. There's a heavy silence, one that feels loaded with the weight of what you've just revealed. Even though you've held the tears at bay, the grief is there—raw, and unspoken. You've tried running from these feelings and clearly its caught up to you.

"I'm sorry," Tara says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You give a small shrug, your eyes fixed on the floor. "It's... whatever," you mutter, but the strain in your voice betrays your attempt at indifference. "I wasn't even there when it happened," you add, and that's when the guilt hits, almost visible in the way you hunch your shoulders slightly.

Sam steps forward, her arms uncrossing. "GhostFace knows things," she says, her tone serious. "Things he shouldn't."

Blackie pushes your arms and plops down on your lap, the strongest one between the two puppies. You got this guy when he was just six weeks old; his previous owners pieces of shits so you rescued him from them. You gifted him to your sister and her husband when you moved in with them; and that was only so they could allow him to move in with you.

He favored you more than Remy did. He knew you inside out, probably better than you knew yourself. But never more than your dad.

Your dad did train him for the first six months of his life though. Maybe he picked up on a few things.

You stare at the German Shepherd, and he feels you staring so his eyes glance up at you. A soft smile crosses your lips, patting his head gently.

Your brows furrow then, and you finally meet her eyes. "But how? No one but family knew. And it's not like I broadcasted my family stuff."

"That's what's bothering me," Sam says, her gaze narrowing in thought. "It's almost like someone close to you told him."

"Impossible, I don't have friends," you comment, half-joking, but the weight of it lingers.

"Or they've been watching for a lot longer than we thought," Sam offers another idea.

"Nope," you dismiss that idea as well. "I'm paranoid. I am always on guard and question everyone's intentions."

Danny's voice breaks the tension. "You had a full conversation with a homeless man last week," he deadpans.

You chuckle at the memory. "Yeah. He was nice." You defend Lionel, the homeless man. He was nice.

But Tara isn't laughing. She sits up a little straighter, her eyes flicking between you and Sam as she pieces something together. "What if they weren't just after you because of me or the others? What if it's because they want to break you down—push you to run again?"

A knot twists in your stomach, and you feel the gravity of Tara's words sink in. "Why would they care about me running?"

"Because it's what you do, right?" Danny interjects, his voice steady but sympathetic. "You run when things get tough, but maybe this time, they want to control when and where you go. They're using your fear against you."

It hits you like a punch in the gut. "I'm ruining his plan," you finally realize, your voice quiet but firm. Danny's eyes lock with yours, and you can see the recognition in his expression. "He wants me to run because I'm ruining his plan. The plot. The whole thesis or whatever film jargon Mindy would use. I'm not the hero—I'm the fucking cock block... in theory." You finish, unsure of the term but knowing you're onto something.

The room falls silent, your revelation weighing heavily in the air. Sam's eyes flick between you and Tara, while Danny's gaze remains fixed on you, understanding dawning in his expression. It's as if the pieces are finally starting to fall into place.

"You...may be right," Danny says slowly, his voice measured. "You're not following their script, the role you took on by happening upon it. They want you to run, because you happened on this whole ordeal. You weren't suppose to go to the party, you weren't suppose to be at Sam's place when he went to attack."

"Nope. I was forced to go both times," you explain, laughing gently. "Dumbass. Everyone knows you need a backup plan."

Sam's brow furrows, arms crossed as she paces a bit. "So, he doesn't want you to be the hero... and he wants to get rid of you." She stops in her tracks, thinking aloud. "And if they couldn't get you to leave, he was going to rid of you his own way."

Tara shifts uncomfortably, her eyes darting between you and her sister.

"And they failed." You say triumphantly.

"Who knows what else you ruined in their plan?" Tara shrugs.

Sam narrows her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe Quinn wasn't the only planned killing for that night."

You shift uneasily, the gravity of the situation settling in. "So, what? I just stick around and hope I don't mess things up even more? Hoping it doesn't get me killed in the process."

Danny lets out a humorless chuckle. "Or you stay and mess things up in his plan instead."

You look at him, confused, and a little insulted.

"You told me what Mindy said," Danny continues. "You're the wild card. You're not playing by the rules, and that's exactly why he's targeting you. If you run, you make it easier for him. But if you stay—"

"I ruin his movie," you finish for him, your voice more confident now.

Sam gives a small nod, her expression hardening. "And if we know anything about GhostFace, it's that he hates when things don't go his way."

Tara smiles faintly, a glimmer of hope returning to her eyes. "We've got an advantage now. We know what he wants you to do—and we're going to make sure you don't do it.

With a head shake and smile, you say instead, "Or maybe I do..do it," you couldn't help but giggle at your words. Danny shakes his head in disbelief, but chuckles as well. When you see Tara frown, you shake your head and stand carefully, making sure not to bother any of the sleeping dogs. "We make the idiot think I did run..." you look at Sam, hoping she gets where you're going.

Sam's eyes narrow, her arms still crossed as she processes your words. Slowly, a grin tugs at the corner of her lips. "You want to bait him," she says, her voice low with understanding. "Make GhostFace think you're running—play into his narrative."

"Exactly," you say, pointing at her, feeling the adrenaline start to course through your veins. "We make him think I'm doing what he expects, what he wants."

Danny raises an eyebrow, catching on. "We make him think you run, but really, you're leading him right into a trap."

Tara's frown fades, replaced with curiosity. "That could work," she murmurs, glancing at Sam. "If he thinks he's controlling the situation, he'll get overconfident, make mistakes."

Sam nods, her mind already racing through the logistics. "We'll need to set it up carefully. Make it believable."

"But tell no one," you say, looking between them all. "We can't risk anyone listening and it getting back to him somehow. Mindy, Chad, Kirby, Quinn's dad and definitely not Ethan." You emphasize.

Tara laughs quietly, shaking her head.

"Fine," Sam steps forward, and everyone follows. "We know the plan..."

"Oh, Captain America speech," you bounce on your feet excitedly. You purse your lips when you receive deadpan glares.

"We know our roles," Sam continues, glancing at each of you. "We make him regret ever trying to write any of us into his twisted movie."

You rest your hands on your hips, a proud smile forming on your lips. It radiates, drawing their attention to you. You shrug. "I just..." you smile, feeling more determined than ever. "I've spent my whole life running away from things. I think it's about time I run toward something—toward ending this for you guys."

Danny pats your shoulder gently, his grip reassuring. He's proud of you and your smile only widens at that.

Tara steps closer, her gaze soft but resolute. "Thanks for doing this," she looks over at her sister, her eyes full of gratitude before locking back on you. "For staying."

Danny and Sam share a look, feeling the clear attraction between you and Tara.

"So," Danny clears his throat, breaking the moment with a knowing smile. "The plan?"

You blink a few times, getting out of stupor. "Right..." you glance at your cousin, Sam then Tara. You feel caught so you hurry to move on. "We trap him, but we're gonna need all the help we can get.."

\\\\\

You know a plan is good when you start to believe it's bad.

"You know, the more we talk about it," you begin, pacing back and forth in front of them. "The more appealing it sounds." You chew your nail, a nervous habit you know you'd get reprimanded for if your siblings or parents were around.

The group sits in Gale's apartment building's lobby, being called over by the twins. They explained the need of wanting to end this. Chad told Sam of Mindy's worries of this ending worse than before. So Sam suggested they join them, hoping to console Mindy with their presence. She knows the twin worries when they are too far apart during situations like this.

Danny arches a brow. "What does?"

You clear your throat, coming to a stop by the door. "My mom called me," you say, avoiding their stares and keeping your eyes on Danny. "She wants me to come home. Even my brother said I should leave, and he's the one who convinced me and my sister to go to New York in the first place. So maybe I should...go back home." Your words come out reluctantly, because you're starting to mean them.

Danny glances at the others, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "Wait... you're serious."

You nod, playing into the part. "Yeah. Maybe it's time I listen to them." You shift your weight, making your hesitation believable.

Mindy stands abruptly, her voice rising. "Woah, hold up," she steps closer, shaking her head. "You can't just leave. You're part of this now—our hero!" Her tone is pleading, eyes wide with disbelief.

You shrug off her words, refusing to meet her gaze. "I'm no hero, Mindy. I'm just some idiot who stuck around too long. Like a bug stuck to a car's grill." You glare, directing the frustration outward, glancing at Chad and Ethan sitting nearby. Ethan looks back at you with that same innocent expression that's always unsettling.

With a huff, you shake your head and turn toward the door.

"GhostFace or not," you say sharply, turning back to face the room. "Maybe staying in New York was the wrong choice from the start. There isn't anything for me here, anyway."

The room falls silent for a moment, your words hanging in the air like a weight. Tara shifts uncomfortably, glancing between you and Sam. Danny looks torn, as if he wants to say something but is holding back.

"You can't just leave," Chad finally speaks up, breaking the silence. His voice is quiet, uncertain. "I mean, come on, you're part of this now. We need you."

"Need me?" you scoff, incredulous and bewildered at his words. "So he can kill me while you all survive again? No thanks."

Danny clenches his jaw, your words surprising him. "Y/N, relax. No one is dying-"

"He's tried to kill me twice," your voice raises, frustrated and exhausted. You feel Tara's sad eyes on you and it takes every ounce of will power you have not to look at her. "That's twice too many. And they say third's time the charm? Yeah, no, I'm not giving him the chance."

Ethan watches you, his gaze intense, but he says nothing. His expression is hard to read, but you don't let it throw you off. Not now.

"My family's suffered one loss already," you say, stunning Danny into silence. "I'm not going to put through another." Your words hit hard, firm and serious.

You mean it, Danny can tell. You're not acting on the role you told them you'd take on.

Mindy steps forward, her hands gesturing wildly as she speaks. "This isn't just about you! If you run, you give GhostFace exactly what he wants. He'll pick us off one by one if you're not here."

You look at her, then your gaze travels to your roommate sitting right behind her. You managed to grow a friendship with Anika, she has been nothing but nice to you. But this isn't about you, it was never suppose to be about you. This is their story, with an ending they can deal with.

"It was nice meeting you all," you say as you take tentative steps back towards the door. You don't miss the disappointed looks on their faces. "Really. I'm sure if the circumstances were different, we would be great friends. But, god, I hope I never see you guys again."

You say, final, turning on your heels, making your exit.

Danny looks down, ashamed.

Chad looks at the door, hoping you changed your mind. Minutes tick by, nothing but silence surrounds them. That and a few lingering policemen, making sure GhostFace didn't linger behind, hiding somewhere.

With no sight of you returning, Chad turns to the group. "What do we do?"

Sam looks at her friends, their fright obvious and palpable.

"Maybe he wins this time," she says softly.

Ethan leans forward where he's sat, an exasperated look on his face. "I'm sorry, what?"

Sam stands, looking at them all. "This was never suppose to involve any of you," she sighs, the sad look on her sister's face hurting her the most. "I roped you guys into this. He wants to punish me... Me. Maybe I let him."

"You want to give up?" Mindy asks, some disgust lingers in her tone.

"Everyone thinks I'm this terrible person. Maybe they're right." Sam says, then looks at Tara again. "You said it. It's not like I have a plan for my life anyway. If this is what I need to do to keep you all safe... then it's worth it."

Tara's expressions changes at her sister's words. "No." She snarls, getting on her feet. "Fuck that. You came back to Woodsboro to protect me. And you've been protecting me ever since. We're all still alive because of you."

"And Y/N," Ethan adds, earning glares from everyone.

"They aren't here anymore, you don't have to kiss their ass," Anika glares at him. He cowers down where he's sat.

With a deep breath, Tara takes her sister's hands. "Maybe it's time you let us protect you. We're a team, remember?"

Sam's eyes soften as she looks at her sister, Tara's words slowly cutting through the guilt and exhaustion she's been carrying. For a moment, the tension between them breaks, and the weight on Sam's shoulders seems to lighten, just a little.

Tara tightens her grip on Sam's hands, her voice stronger now. "You're not in this alone anymore, Sam. None of us are. We can't just give up and let him win."

Mindy steps up. "We're a family."

Chad brightens. "Hell yeah! Core four!"

Danny tilts his head in confusion, but doesn't comment on it.

Sam crosses her arms. "He's going to keep coming for us."

Ethan shakes his head. "I think Y/N had the right idea," he speaks up, capturing their attention. "Can't we just hole up somewhere safe?"

Anika looks at him in disgust. "Ugh, god, I hope you are GhostFace so you die at the end," she grumbles under her breath. Ethan stares back at her with wide eyes.

Mindy laughs but gets a shove from Chad. "Oh," she mumbles, clearing her throat. "Anika." she tries her best to sound authoritative.

Tara gives Ethan a pointed look. "And hiding won't solve anything. He'll just find us, like he always does..." she trails off, coming to a realization as soon as the words come out of her mouth. "I have an idea. Chad, give me your phone," she orders without an explanation.

Chad does as he's told, handing his phone over to the short girl. She does a quick dial of the number and soon, the man picks up. Tara explains the plan to the detective, who doesn't seem at all convinced or sure of it. She doesn't bother on insisting him to liking the plan, just wants to know if he wants to be apart of it.

"Are you gonna help us?" Tara asks once she's done with her explanation.

"Yes," Bailey relents with a sigh, glancing around his surroundings. "I'm stuck here, but Gale gave us the keycards to the theater; it has heavy security and surveillance cameras, we can use that against him. I'll get Kirby to meet you there and join you as soon as I can."

Tara glances at Danny, who wandered off to make a phone call. She can see him actually frustrated, and she can't even guess what about.

"Travel in public," Bailey pulls her out of stupor. "Remember, the more people around you, the less of a chance he can take a shot at you before you get here."

The walk to the subway is unnervingly quiet, tension settling like a fog over the group. Sam walks beside her sister, hyper-aware of their surroundings. She's ready for anything, but the weight of the plan lingers heavily on her mind. Trusting Bailey and Kirby felt like a gamble, but it was the only option they had. She steals glances at the others as they walk in an uneasy silence—each of them lost in their own thoughts, wary of every shadow, every passerby.

Danny lingers behind, phone pressed to his ear again. Faintly, Tara hears, "Yo, this is Y/N, I don't check voicemails so send me a message..." then a beep.

Danny grits his teeth and slips his phone into his pocket, catching up to the group quietly.

Tara turns to the others, her voice tight. "You guys don't have to come with us," she tells Ethan, Anika, and Danny. Sam nods beside her, silently agreeing.

"Right," Ethan scoffs. "We peel off and the killer takes us out one-by-one? No thank you."

Anika squints her eyes at him, mimicking her girlfriend's glare. "I'm going to keep an eye on him," she says, pointing at Ethan, who lifts his hands in mock surrender, incredulous.

"Safety in numbers, right?" Danny speaks up. "I'm not my cousin. I don't run," he looks at Sam, trying to offer a reassuring smile.

"Let's get to the theater," Sam nods just as the train arrives.

They all stand together, but the flow of passengers getting off the train separates them. Ethan, Anika and Mindy are pushed back by people. Mindy grabs Anika's hand, steadying herself.

"Hey!" Mindy shouts after them, standing on her toes to get a glimpse of them. She spots her brother on the train. "Chad!"

Chad waits by the doors, hoping his strength is enough to keep them open. He watches his sister and her girlfriend struggle through the crowd, pushing their way forward. The thought to get off and help them crosses his mind, but then he feels someone yank him back. The doors snap shut, his eyes widening as he hears his sister call out his name again.

Mindy and Anika run, but can't make it onto the train in time. A hand grabs Mindy's shoulder, and she jumps back, pulling Anika with her. Ethan stands there, eyes wide with innocence.

"Get your Ghostface ass away from me, Ghostface." Mindy distances her and Anika away from him, ignoring the hurt expression on his face.

"Where's Mindy and Anika?" Sam asks when Chad and Danny finally join her and Tara.

"They missed the train," Chad admits, his voice tight. "I would've waited with them, but Cute Boy pulled me inside," he adds, glaring at Danny.

Tara's suspicion flares. She trusted Danny because of you, but now—with you gone, really gone—she isn't sure who to trust anymore. The plan was for you to text Danny once you had finished your part, but Danny hasn't mentioned anything to the group.

"I was trying to keep us all together," Danny defends.

"By splitting us up?" Tara asks, her voice sharp as her glare.

Chad pulls out his phone, revealing a text from Mindy: We'll get the next one. Don't wait for us. We'll meet you at the theater.

Chad locks his phone after the sisters read the message, then looks up. His eyes widen, his stomach twisting into a knot. "Shit," he mutters.

The others follow his gaze, their nerves skyrocketing. The subway car is packed to the max with Halloween revelers dressed as every horror movie character to ever exist—Freddy, Jason, Pinhead, Michael Myers, Leatherface.

But it isn't those characters that send a chill down their spines. It's the dozens of people dressed as Ghostface, their masks seemingly trained on the group, unmoving.

Tara swallows thickly. "How many stops?"

"Ten," Sam answers, her voice barely a whisper as she checks the map.

Danny grips the pole, his knuckles white from tension. "Great."

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #sam carpenter #scream 6 #scream vi #the unwitting hero

187 notes · View notes

reallychaoticwoo · 2 months ago

Note

Hi babe!! How do you think the different ateez members would be with a gf who is a single mom? Especially if a 1 y/o baby girl? I see all of them as girl dads, but truly you can choose any age or gender for the baby. Also, for obvious reasons, fem reader :). Love you 💕💕

Hello again doll 🖤🖤 Of course I am more than happy to do this as a momma myself 🖤 🎬Overview: Ateez members meeting you and your 4 year old daughter for the first time and what became of it.

‼️This is gonna have to be a two parter, so bare with me 😅😅 I may have gotten a bit carried away. I did get my sister's help with these so everyone say thank you lol 🖤🖤

❤️Pairing: individual ot8 x reader

⚠️Warnings: Probably some cussing, mentions of dead father, Wooyoung being a little shit. Let me know if I missed anything

✨️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idols in any way

🖤As always I hope you enjoy!

🧸Ateez meeting Y/N, a single mom. Part 1🧸

Part two

Hongjoong:

Walking into the music store wasn't something you expected to be doing today, but your daughter would not let up about wanting to learn to play the guitar, and she just needed to go look at some right now. So you gave in, taking her inside and looking around. You'd gotten a little distracted looking at a violin, reminiscing over when you used to play, when your daughter slipped away. Of course, she headed straight for the guitars. They were only a few feet away, and she ran straight into a man with burnt orange hair stumbling back a bit before catching herself. "Oh, uh, what are you doing in her cutie? Where's your parents?" He asked her, looking around, trying to find anyone who seemed like they were missing a child. Just that second you rounded the corner, "Oh sweetie, there you are! I told you not to leave my side." You said, looking at her sternly, before turning to look at the man, "I am so sorry about that. I looked away for two seconds." He assured you it was fine, asking your daughter why she was running to the guitars in the first place. "Oh, she wants to learn to play and insisted I bring her to look at them. I figured looking wouldn't hurt. I'd get her one, but I know absolutely nothing about guitars or where to even begin trying to find a teacher." You started rambling. He was gorgeous, and you found yourself a little embarrassed and flustered as he listened to what you were saying. He chuckled, noticing how you seemed a little overwhelmed, "I could help you find one if you'd like. I play a little, so I definitely know the best ones for beginners and more advanced options."He offered. You smiled shyly, nodding at him in thanks. Your daughter, however, had other plans, "Mommyyy, he said he plays!! He could teach me! Can the pretty man teach me, Mommy? Plleaaasseeeee??" She begged looking at you with pleading eyes. You glanced at him, a look of shock and mild panic on his face, before looking back to your daughter. "Now sweetie, I'm sure he's very busy we can't just go demanding lessons from strangers." Your daughter turned to look at him, giving him her best puppy dog eyes and lip pout to this day, "Pleaaaaseeeee will you teach me to play the guitar pretty man? Pllleeeeeaaaaassseeeeee.." She begged. He chuckled at the nickname given to him by your four year old and kneeled down to be eye level with her. "I will teach you one thing if you promise to listen to your pretty mommy and be good for her." He said, patting her head. "Okay, I'll be good!" She exclaimed, looking up at you with the biggest cheesiest grin on her face. He sat down with her and explained one of the easiest chords he knew to her, smiling brightly when she picked it up rather quickly. Heading back to you, smiling brightly, "Mommy, the pretty man taught me to play guitar!" Your daughter beamed at you. "Honey, I'm sure the pretty man has a name." You said, smiling down at her enthusiasm. "I do, it's Hongjoong." He said, looking at you with a smile. "Well, Hongjoong, thank you for taking time to teach her something. I really appreciate it. I'd love to maybe take you out to dinner sometime? As a thank you." You said smiling warmly at him. "If teaching her one chord gets me a date with her pretty mom, then she may have just found herself a teacher. He replied, handing you his phone with a cheeky wink.

Seonghwa:

Your daughter was exploring the Lego store and came across a big Star Wars set, "Mommy! Mommy! Can I get that one?? Pweeaaaseeee!?!" She asked, giving you her best puppy dog eyes and pouty lip. "Sweetheart, we can't afford that.. I'm sorry." You sighed, patting her head, "why don't we keep looking, I'm sure we'll find something." Seonghwa couldn't help but overhear and walked over. "I don't mean to intrude, but I couldn't help but overhear this sweet baby asking for that big Star Wars set. I just bought this one and realized I already have one at home. If mom doesn't mind, I'd be more than happy to give it to her." He was smiling down at your daughter before looking up at you awaiting your reply. "Are you sure? It's okay really, we were going to keep looking. Plus its a bit too advanced for her age." You replied. "More than sure, and I'm happy to help her build it. As long as that's okay with you?" He shot you a warm smile. "PLEAASSEEE MOMMYYYY can we please go build legos??" Your daughter asked, practically jumping in excitement. You looked at her and back to the man in front of you, "Okay, let's go." You said looking at your daughter fondly. "Thank you, uh.. I'm sorry I didn't catch your name?" "Seonghwa, and no need to thank me. I couldn't bare to see a little Lego lover so sad." You sat down in a seating area near the store and the two of them got to work. You'd noticed Seonghwa checking the directions pretty frequently, making you question if he actually already had the set at home, but you decided to leave it be. You were just grateful for his kindness towards your daughter. He was being so patient with her, teaching her where all the little pieces went asking her about what other kinds of toys she liked. You'd overheard him asking about you and not long after your daughter skipped up to you, "Mommy, Hwa wants to know if you'll come build legos with us?" Her big doe eyes pleading with you. "Oh, he does?" You looked at the man with a playful quirk of the brow. He just smiled back shyly. After some conversation between the three of you, Seonghwa reluctantly said he had to leave as he had somewhere to be soon. "But - but mommy, I want to show Hwa when I'm done!" Your daughter said, tears starting to well in her eyes. Seonghwa looked down at her and then to you. "I could uh, give you my number so you can text me when she's finished." He offered. "YES!! Pleaseee mommy!!" She said tugging on the bottom of your shirt. "Yes, that'd be nice. Thank you for building with her, you made her whole day." You smiled at him handing him your phone. He put his number in, "Don't thank me I enjoyed every minute of her happiness. And it was nice getting to talk to her pretty mom too."

Yunho:

It was your first weekend in months you weren't swamped with work. Deciding to take full advantage of your free time, you took your daughter to the arcade. Walking in your daughter immediately squealed in excitement, grabbing your wrist and pulling you over to the dancing games first. After several rounds and some pouting due to unperfect scores, she decided she wanted to try racing games. "Mommy, I wanna drive!" She exclaimed, pointing to one of the race car simulating games. "Baby, you're too short. You can't reach the peddles." You said, looking at her sympathetically. "But mommyy, I want to drive! It looks fun. I wanna be a big girl like mommy and drive!" She stomped her little foot, pouting. Just then, a very tall man walked up to the two of you, "I couldn't help but overhear, I could help her drive if you're comfortable with that? I think I might be tall enough, right?" He offered, directing that last sentence to your daughter, causing you both to giggle at this ridiculously tall man. "I think that would be okay.." You said, turning to look at your daughter, "what do you think, sweetie? Think he can reach?" You asked with a chuckle. "Yes, pweaseee!! Thank you, Mr. Giraffe!" She exclaimed, looking up at him with a bright smile. "Giraffe? I'm a giraffe?" He questioned, laughing at how adorable the nickname was. "I kinda like it! But, you can call me Yunho, since that's my name." He bent down, ruffling her hair, while looking up at you. "Otays, Mr giraffe Yunho! Can we go play now?" She asked, pulling on his pant leg. About 10 minutes into watching them play, hearing laughs come from your daughter you haven't heard from her since before her dad passed, you looked down at your phone and noticed it was almost time for bed. "Sweetheart, I know you're having so much fun right now, but we need to head home and get you to bed." You said softly, walking up to the game to help her down. "Nooooo, I don't want to go home. I want to stay with Yuyu!" She cried, holding onto Yunho. He pulled her back and gave her a pat on the head before setting her on the floor, "I know, and I want to play too, but you need to listen to your mommy. You gotta get some sleep so you can grow big and tall. So next time you won't need my help and you can play by yourself." She pouted, rubbing her eyes. "I don't want to play by myself anymore, I want to play with you forever!" You smiled sadly at her, knowing exactly what your daughter meant by that. Turning to Yunho, you said, "Thank you again. It's been a long time since I've seen her smile and laugh this much. She hasn't been that happy since her dad passed last year. You helping her play that game made her night and means a lot to me." Picking your pouting, sleepy daughter up to head to leave, Yunho stopped you. "I'd be more than happy to continue hanging out with the both of you, if you'd like?" He said timidly. "I, we would really like that." You replied, a fond smile on your face.

Yeosang:

You're sitting down at a restaurant with your daughter when two good-looking guys sit at the table next to you. "Look, Mommy! That guy looks like a prince!" your daughter says loudly, pointing at the blonde one. "Yes baby, he does, but you can't say that stuff so loud, and it's rude to point." You say a little embarrassed because they most definitely heard what she said given the fact the the one with black hair is giggling like a maniac "But mommy, that means he must have a castle and I wanna go!" She says, getting up and walking towards them."Excuse me Mr prince, can you take me to your castle? pwease I've always wanted to see one." She says, batting her eyelashes at the blodne haired man. You quickly follow after her. "I'm so sorry she's only 4, and she really loves fairy tales. Mostly the princes and castles." You say embarrassed. "Yeah, come on, Yeosang, show the little princess your castle," the black haired one says with a shit eating grin, causing Yeosang to look down, trying to hide his blush. "I'm not the princess," your daughter says to the black haired one. "My mommy is because princesses marry the princes, and I'm not old enough to marry anyone yet." She says matter of factly. With a little nod agreeing with her, Wooyoung replies, "You're so right, little one! So does that mean my friend, the prince here, should be courting your mommy? " He says, nudging Yeosang, who has yet to look up. Yeosang shyly looks to your daughter, "I would be horrored given that your mommy is a very beautiful princess, but I believe that princess should choose their prince." He said, sparing a shy smile towards you. "Well," you say, " I think I might be willing to give this one a chance." Both you and Yeosang are now smiling shyly at each other while Wooyoung and your daughter are sharing a victorious fist bump.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

⛓️If you'd like to be tagged in part 2, please let me know!(:

207 notes · View notes

vaspider · 10 months ago

Text

Feisty Lady Anger and other things about me you hate

My mother prizes her anger, for all that she doesn't express it openly. I tell stories about her spiteful, steel-spined responses to people who told her, "You can't do that," and I point to them as Why I Am How I Am. Her father told her he wouldn't pay for her college because "women only go to earn the MRS degree," and she could "get married and have babies" without college. In response, Mom got her bachelor's in Mathematics in 1970 on her own dime, back in the days when in-state students didn't pay tuition at state schools (just another thing Reagan ruined). She worked and paid for her books and housing, got her degree, paid for her own wedding because he wouldn't do that either. Taught school, got her Master's, had three kids, started her Ph.D. with 3 under 6 and became a professor when the youngest was 5.

Tell me I can't, my mom told the world, and I'll show you that I can. I won't just do it, I'll become a department head and a Distinguished Professor and retire after 30 years of teaching other math teachers with a list of achievements as long as my arm.

There is an anger that runs deep in the women in my family. Tell me I can't, and I'll show you I can. Show me injustice and I'll tear at it with my teeth and hands, staring you down while I do. Backwards and in heels.

I can't tell you the moment I crossed out of Feisty Lady Anger in the eyes of the people close to me, but I can tell you the moment I noticed. Maybe it was when my voice started dropping or the growing muscles on my shoulders pulled my stance more square and upright. Maybe it was when I moved from they/them to he/they, and somehow I stepped from Diet Woman to Too Close To Man in their eyes.

It's a funny thing when all of a sudden your anger becomes real enough to be startling to people. Your anger is no longer feisty, charming, and attractive. This thing that people liked about you, that people who say they love you said they loved about you, suddenly becomes frightening, upsetting, and terrible. The way you didn't let people mow over you and fought back used to be a thing that people admired. It was actively attractive. It was one of your best qualities.

Now? It's ugly. It's disgusting. It's scary. The thing you were is gone, and now your anger is real to them.

It's in that moment that the blade cuts back towards you. You realize the reason your squared shoulders and set jaw drew people in couldn't be squared with the stubble on that jaw or the newfound strength in your arms. Feisty Lady Anger isn't real, not in the way a man's anger is real. Feisty Lady Anger is admirable, sure, but it is admirable because of its essential ineffectual nature. At most, Feisty Lady Anger fixes minor problems for the kids at school, gets the principal to back down from scolding your child when she politely asks the kid calling her a faggot on the bus if he knows what that really means, pushes a woman to achieve for her family, in appropriately neutered ways.

When you stop pretending to be a woman and become who you really are, when your anger becomes real, you realize both that the thing about you that people loved is gone and that this thing was attractive in the first place because of its ineffectiveness. Your anger wasn't scary because it wasn't real enough to be threatening.

Now you have Man Anger, and, you're told, you should apologize for that. It doesn't matter if it's the same anger you've always had, or that you're angry about the same things. It comes now in baritone, with belly hair and bellowing, and now it's both real and disgusting.

The worst part is watching it come from people you thought should know better, the people who should understand. You spent nearly 40 years being told to sit down and shut up because the men in your professional career were speaking, assured that if you just waited your turn, you'd be given a place to speak eventually, and now here you are being told within a community that claims to love and understand you, by people that claim to be in community with you and love who you are, that you actually don't have any real problems to speak about, also your Man Anger and Man Privilege (when do I get that, please?) are Scary and mean you should sit down and wait, and you'll be given a place to speak eventually.

It is the Transmasculine Catch-22: if you become Man Enough to no longer fit into Almost Lady, your anger becomes Real, which makes you realize that your anger wasn't Real before, but because it's Real now, you're not allowed to have it. And by the way, you're not allowed to be neither Man or Lady - now you're Man Enough, and that makes it all the more clear how you were simply Kirkland Signature Lady right up until the point you weren't.

There will be a few people who Fucking Get It, who don't see you as either a Failed Lady or a Broken Man, and you'll love those people all the more for their rarity. It won't take the sting out of realizing that the things people you love loved about you before now disgust and repel them, but it'll make it enough to keep going.

You couldn't stop, anyway. You've never felt more yourself, and the people who don't love you, the actual you, the real you... the loss of that hurts, but not nearly as much as the idea of pretending to be something else did.

#transmasc #transmascs #transmasculine #transmasc issues #transandrophobia #personal #before someone says it #yes i recognize that this experience is very much a white experience with anger #this is a deeply personal essay #and if you come at me for it not fitting your personal experience as well #we will not talk #i will just block you #it not being fully universal doesn't mean it's not real or not deeply painful #this has taken me years to write #terfs fuck off #radical feminism has done more to neuter the ability of women to be meaningfully angry than any other 'feminist' movement #so just don't

516 notes · View notes

emphistic · 3 months ago

Text

Teenage Dream

<- series m.list

“I honestly do not get why you’re so worked up on this. What’s so wrong about dating someone who does not like macaroni and cheese?” asked Sukuna, raising a brow as he popped a potato chip into his mouth.

“It’s not that. I just—I want to have a successful relationship with someone who likes mac and cheese as much as I do. Conflict of interests, I guess, but is that really so ridiculous?”

“Conflict of interests is more reasonable, now that you put it that way, but over macaroni and cheese? Seriously?”

Sukuna wasn’t wrong, you couldn’t deny that. It’s, without a doubt, a conclusion beyond silly. But, after so many hardships, you’ve finally come to realize that you’ll probably never be able to date a guy who likes macaroni and cheese. Every relationship you’ve had has always been with someone that either hated macaroni and cheese, or was lactose intolerant; no in between.

At first, it was just a mere coincidence. But after so many instances, you end up thinking you’re cursed, and find yourself consulting with your childhood best friend, Sukuna Ryomen.

You frowned, lowering your gaze. “My parents taught me how to make homemade macaroni and cheese, you should already know that. We always made it together at least once a year, and it’s one of my favorite memories. But, after moving out, I don’t have time to visit them anymore. I remember seeing how happy both my mom and dad were whenever they cooked together. So, my dream has always been to make macaroni and cheese with someone I love, as well. It’s all I’ve ever wanted in life.”

You fully expected Sukuna to laugh in your face, but he didn’t. When you looked up, you could even see a faint smile on his lips, before he turned his head to the side, avoiding your gaze.

“That’s kinda deep coming from you.”

“Is that really all you have to say? I just dumped out a part of my life that I’ve never told anyone else and you decide to—”

“Then again, you do realize Yuuji likes macaroni and cheese, right? Why don’t you just date him? I mean, we all grew up together, and you two are pretty close in age.” Sukuna shrugged, picking up his glass of water to take a sip.

You snorted, waving a hand to dismiss the impossible idea. “He’s like a brother to me. But . . . now that you mention it. . . What do you think about macaroni and cheese?”

Sukuna—understanding the second meaning of your question—spit out his drink, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before turning to you. You didn’t miss the faint blush on his cheeks. “I didn’t hear that last part,” he cleared his throat, “what did you say?”

“Do you like macaroni and cheese?” You repeated yourself.

“It’s okay—” said Sukuna, but you didn’t hear it.

“‘Cause if you did, I think I know a way to get rid of my curse! We can start dating, and after having a pretty successful relationship, we can go back to what we are now, and then, boom!—my curse is lifted, and I can finally date other people who like macaroni and cheese.”

With every sentence that you spoke, Sukuna’s jaw seemed to drop lower and lower. “How did you even think of that?”

“COVID-19, of course!” you said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Natural immunity or something like that. Your immune system produces antibodies to fight off a germ, and if you’re exposed to that germ again in the future, your body’s defenses will be able to recognize it and fight it off with antibodies, making you less likely to get infected again.”

“And this correlates to your situation because?”

You paused, before looking back at Sukuna. “Not important, but anyway, do you like macaroni and cheese? Yes or no?”

Sukuna blinked, before looking as if he was considering the pros and cons of replying. As if he had anything to lose, you thought.

“Yeah. I love macaroni and cheese, actually. I used to have it all the time back then.”

Your eyes widened, and your smile grew. “That’s—that’s great! So, uhm,” you paused, “do you want to do this?”

“Do I want to date—I mean, get into a fake relationship with you? Let me think.” Sukuna put a pointer finger and thumb on his chin, pretending to weigh his options. “What’s in it for me?”

Now this is what had you stumped. You hadn’t thought of that yet; throughout your whole thought process, you were only thinking of yourself. And, there really was nothing about this arrangement that could benefit Sukuna. The relationship was for your sake, not his. But maybe. . .

“You’ll have a girlfriend?” you proposed. “I can, like, cheer for you at your basketball games, and stuff.”

“We go to the same school; you already do that.”

“Right. . . Oh! I can make you mac and cheese whenever you want?”

“Pass.”

You chewed your lip trying to come up with a good enough reason. “. . .I always have the best hors d’oeuvres?”

“Not important.”

“Err, you can just do this for me out of the kindness of your heart?”

“Kindness of my heart? I wouldn’t put it that way, but go on.”

“I mean, we’re friends and all, right? You can think of this as a mere favor; and I’ll repay you by inviting you to my wedding when I finally marry someone who loves macaroni and cheese.”

Sukuna furrowed his brows, looking conflicted at hearing that last part, before finally agreeing to your proposition. “Okay, this is just a favor. Sure, I’ll do it.”

It took you a second to fully register what Sukuna said, but when you did, you set your iced tea down on the table beside you, and, nearly jumping out of your seat, threw your arms around Sukuna, trapping him in the tightest hug you had ever given to anyone. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”

His voice came soon after, muffled, but you could still tell Sukuna said something along the lines of “you’re welcome” and “you’re crushing me, brat”. But you completely dismissed that last part.

You laughed at Sukuna as he continued to grumble unintelligible complaints about how he heard his bones crack under your embrace. “So grumpy. This is totally a time to celebrate.”

“It’s really not.”

“Don’t be silly. I mean, I’m gonna be able to finally date someone who likes macaroni and cheese. We should totally go out for drinks tonight!”

Sukuna shrugged, giving in. “Only if you’re paying.”

“I would agree, but is that really something a good boyfriend would say to his girlfriend? Making her pay?”

You could practically hear Sukuna’s eye roll from behind you as you turned around to grab your phone from your bag.

“What’re you doing now? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for our date?” Sukuna said the word with unfamiliarity. Yeah, you had a long way to go before you would get used to the fact that you were in a relationship with the man currently sitting in your apartment.

“In a sec. I’m just making sure I don’t lose my Duolingo streak.”

“Right now? Fuckin’ weirdo,” said Sukuna, as he sat up from his spot on the sofa. “Tell me when you’re ready; I’m gonna take a shit.”

Nodding, you said, “Roger that.”

“. . .Do not ever say that cringey shit to me ever again, or I’ll break up with you.”

You laughed at that last part. The threat seemed more humorous than it should’ve; perhaps it was the unconventional spirit of your relationship.

When you two were kids, you and Sukuna would frequently hang out at each other’s houses and play-fight until the sun would go down, and his grandpa would scold you both for making a mess of the house. It was a bright and colorful time of Sukuna’s life. And, after having known you since childhood, Sukuna grew pretty familiar with your outgoing personality and general craziness.

But, with that being said, Sukuna was beyond taken aback when you brought up the idea of being cursed. You? Cursed? In this decade? This was real life, not some dystopian book. Sukuna thought you were bordering the line between sane and insane when you further explained your current predicament to him.

So, just because you couldn’t find a suitable lover who liked macaroni and cheese, you thought you were doomed for life? Sukuna almost laughed out loud when you expressed how serious you were.

“It’s not funny!” you told him, but he couldn’t have thought you were being more ridiculous.

And when you brought up your idea on how to get rid of your “curse”, Sukuna was planning on telling you how silly you were being, but all thought of that immediately died down in his throat when you mentioned a possible relationship with him.

What do you mean Sukuna had an opportunity to get into a relationship with you? As in, he could be your boyfriend? It was like the gates of Heaven had opened up right before him, and were offering eternal paradise to him.

Then again, it was only an act. A fake relationship. But, nevertheless, Sukuna would take all that was given to him; he always did.

“You know, Sukuna, I’m really grateful for you for doing this. I mean, it might be a little weird to act like we’re dating and all, but it can’t be that bad, right? We’re already friends; dating couldn’t possibly be so different?” you suggested.

Sukuna took a sip of his drink, “Dunno. I’m not usually friends with my girlfriends.”

“Really?” you leaned in closer to the conversation. “So you mean you don’t, like. . . Never mind. How do you even get girlfriends, then? I usually meet people through a mutual friend, and then we get to know each other, become friends ourselves, and—”

Sukuna cut you off, “I don’t think you really get what I’m saying here. Besides, I’m not here for advice on how to meet potential girlfriends. I think I’m pretty experienced in that department.”

You laughed, “But, really, thanks for doing this for me.”

Smiling, you placed a hand over Sukuna’s, which was resting on the table. He looked a bit tense at the action, but he didn’t push you away.

“It’s what friends do, right?

You hummed, averting your gaze elsewhere. “Anyways, I’m pretty sure this counts as our first date.”

“Huh,” Sukuna agreed. “Kind of boring, I gotta say. I mean, going out for drinks at a bar? Not a very romantic scenario.”

“Still, isn’t this exciting either way—?”

“I think I know a way to make this evening more exciting,” a cool voice cut you off midway. “Mind if we join you?”

You knew that voice. When you turned around, you were met with the face of. . .

#sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #sukuna fluff

170 notes · View notes

boltwrites · 4 months ago

Note

NEED to know what happens when logan meets your parents for the first time - does he flirt w/ your mom? What do they think about the age gap? Does your dad like him or is he all "nobody's good enough for my princess😤" do they know you're mutants? Giving you full creative freedom to do as you please just give it to me 😭😭

A/N: ok, so since you've given me creative freedom, we have: 20s-ish mutant fem!reader who teaches at the mansion on 10005, old man worst wolverine!logan, the two of you met after the events of dp3 and the relationship progressed from there.

also. this shit has been giving me so many problems. i was really trying to write typical white-picket fence, suburban sitcom-style parents, but honestly? i don't know dick about those type of parents. so you get these assholes instead.

this may actually be one of the worst things i've ever written. i might add a part two at some point, but really i just think this is horrible and want it out of my sight lmao. so here you go.

Your palms were sweaty, your heart racing, as you reached for the doorknob to your childhood home, Logan standing to your side. The last time you'd brought a boy home (and he had been a boy) things hadn't ended well.

Your dad was a traditionalist, you see, and your mom - well, she wasn't one to judge your choices, but you could tell that sometimes when you told her about your love interests, she was holding in laughter. But your dad - he was very vocal about the expectations he had for your partners. He'd never treated you like some kind of princess or prize - oh no. he was a man who saw his children as students of his own knowledge. No matter what your gender, he had taught you how to trim a tree, change a tire, wire a light switch, cook a filling meal - the basics of owning a home and keeping it put together.

Because of that, your parents hadn't often approved of your previous boyfriends. In high school, you'd been too frightened to bring them home. You'd only attended a traditional public school for your freshman year, and the rest of your time spent at Xavier's you'd been far too worried about your dates accidentally exposing themselves as mutants to justify introducing them to your parents. They weren't anti-mutant, per-say... but they certainly weren't supportive, and you didn't want to put even your prom date through that.

As you grew older (graduated college, was hired on as a teacher at the mansion instead of a simple student), you came to understand the reasons why your parents were so discerning as to your choice in men. Your mother's stoic judgment wasn't meant to be mean - she just wanted you to choose a man for more than just superficial attraction, to think of the bigger picture. Which, you'd been blissfully unaware of, as a teen. Your father's traditionalism wasn't rooted in outdated gender norms - it was simply connected to the fact that he wanted your partner to be able to support both you and your household in a significant way. That's why he was always harping on picking a "real man" - not some newfound conservative bullshit, but the simple understanding that sometimes men tried to do the bare minimum, and that he knew you deserved so much more.

And Logan, well. He could certainly support you. He was unlike any man you'd ever dated. He didn't have any social media you had to worry about - no feed or "for you" page filled with scantily clad women and sexist messaging disguised as finance advice - only a stupid flip phone he refused to text you on. He was helpful, attentive, affectionate - even despite the trauma you'd both experienced as mutants. You understood that his struggled has affected him far more than your had, that he still needed to heal - and even though that strained your relationship at times, you knew he cared, knew he tried - so you fought for it. That was something you couldn't say about your previous boyfriends.

Plus, you knew he could handle your weirdass parents.

"Nervous?" He'd asked you, when you asked him if he wanted to meet your parents. You'd given him a side-eyed look as you posed the concept, like you were giving him an out to decline.

"I mean, kind of?" You responded, hesitant. All he did was chuckle, smirking at you.

"What, am I gonna pull up to your dad cleaning his shotgun in the garage?"

"Honestly? Maybe, but that's not what I'm worried about," you admitted, fidgeting. "It's... it's hard to explain. I guess the closest thing is that they're - funny? Like - they'll make fun of you. My dad - he makes all of these horrible inappropriate jokes, like, all the time, and my mom is just really sarcastic, and she seems super judgmental because of it, but really, she's just being funny."

Logan just looked at you, one eyebrow raised. "

What?" You asked. You'd expected more from him. But he just snorted.

"Babe, I've been stuck in the void with Wade-fucking-Wilson. I'm not scared of your parents."

So, you took a breath, offered Logan one last "brace yourself-" and pushed open the door. Immediately you were met with the smell of something cooking - you recognized it immediately as one of your dad's signature dishes, sizzling on the stove.

"Hey, we're here!" You called out, you tried to usher Logan in and up the stairs of your split-level, but he insisted on closing the door behind you - and the shitty screen door that had been around since before you were born made a horrible shaking, scraping metal sound as it bounced along the concrete of your porch. Ah, the sound of home.

"Hey, you!" Your dad called, poking his head out of the kitchen. "What're you- hey, ho! Who's this?" He gestured to Logan with the spatula in his hand, and your face immediately reddened.

"Dad, this is Logan."

"Hey," Logan nodded in greeting, and your dad made a little shocked noise.

"Logan? Who's Logan?"

"Jesus Christ-" you huffed it under your breath, and Logan tried to stifle a chuckle. "He's my boyfriend, remember?"

"Boyfriend?" Your dad's voice pitched higher. "That motherfucker looks older than me!"

Well. There was your dad getting right to the point, as per usual.

"I am," Logan replied, and you fucking elbowed him in the ribs.

"No mutant shit - they don't know," you hissed a reminder, and he rolled his eyes.

"Hey - you see this guy, Nikki?" Your dad called to the dining room.

Your mom sighed - unlike your dad, she had some kind of decorum, and had the decency to shoot him daggers before she met you and Logan at the top of the steps.

"It's nice to meet you, Logan," she greeted him - you could tell that she was fighting the all consuming urge to shoot you a look or make a joke about this whole thing. She was trying so hard. It was like that scene in Who Framed Roger Rabbit with the shave and a haircut song.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked. "Since you're clearly old enough-"

It was like some demon forced her to spit out that line. You snorted, had to shake your head. This was a mistake.

"What do you have?" Logan asked instead, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, smirking at the whole situation. It was like he lived to see you embarrassed.

"Water, coke, iced tea -" she listed off.

"My dad's shitty beer," you added, and Logan's brow raised.

"Hey! Busch is good beer!"

"No the fuck it is not," you replied, because he didn't even drink the light stuff.

"I don't care, I'll take the beer," Logan cut in, and your dad wagged a finger at him.

"Yeah! I'll get you one - it's good shit, man. Somebody watch the stove."

Oh good lord. There he goes. Logan shot you a look - lip quirked into a little smile, before your dad clapped him on the shoulder and hauled him towards the stairs.

That just left you. And your mom.

She looked at you. You looked at her.

"Well?" you asked, stepping up to take your dad's place at the stove to watch the food. Your mom shrugged in response.

"Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to ask me about him - make some weird comment about his age? I mean - now would be the time," you hedged. You just hated this weird aura surrounding you all. How it felt like she had so many questions to ask, but was holding them all back.

"Obviously I can tell he's old," your mom replied. "It's not really a discussion. Is there something we do need to talk about?"

You knew what she meant. Were you safe with him? Were you happy? Did you bring him here to meet them because you needed help, not because you wanted to share your happiness with them?

Some people might find that sort of implication unthinkable, or rude to address - but you knew your mom. She watched a lot of true crime. She just cared about you.

"No," you replied, with a sigh. "I-I really like him. He's a good man. He actually - he knows how to be a man, if you know what I mean. How to take care of himself. I don't know - I didn't realize how important that was until I met him."

You mom nodded. Her arms were crossed, and she wore her typical resting bitch face, but you could tell she understood what you meant.

"Well. Hopefully your father doesn't shoot him."

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #mine #anon #asks #anonymous

283 notes · View notes

vampiricgf · 4 months ago

Text

— g. satoru | FAMILY MATTERS

warnings : dead dove do not eat, dark content, pseudocest (stepdad/stepdaughter), noncon, restraints, slapping, oral, fingering, dacryphilia, pet names (honey, sweetheart, pumpkin, baby), creampie, emotional manipulation, use of daddy, underwear stealing

wc : 3.5k+

if you choose to expand the work and read it, it's your responsibility. I have made sure to use the proper warnings and kept everything beneath a read more for a reason! also sorry for any errors it's not edited

Coming back home wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

If you’re being honest with yourself you weren’t sure what exactly it was supposed to feel like, but you did know enough to recognize your childhood home shouldn’t feel like a mausoleum. Maybe that was due in part to the overall bitterness of having to come back at all, a failed bid for independence left a lingering sour taste washing across your tongue. It didn’t help your guilt either, guilt for having left your stepfather behind while chasing all the fury of youth.

You mom was long gone, mostly a faded memory now and it was him, Satoru, who had taken care of you through your adolescence in the aftermath of her disappearance. You would always be grateful to him on some level for that, especially since it would’ve been just as easy for him to toss you out on your ass with a good luck, kid. But he didn’t. Even with the long hours at Jujutsu Tech and the missions you knew he tried to keep secret from you, he still tried. Although you mostly found the overly affectionate displays embarrassing when you were younger, you would be a liar if you said it didn’t provide a certain level of comfort.

Or at least, it did. You knew better, knew that even as an adult yourself you were still explicitly forbidden from entering his study. Wished so hard you physically squeezed every muscle in your body taught that you hadn’t gone nosing for moms things. It had been natural to assume though that if he would keep anything of hers it would be in the study, not out in the main house anywhere.

You’d just wanted to feel closer to her in a low moment, not pludge even further down in free fall.

In the small closet inside that room you’d found it. Thought it was just a small box of maybe her jewelry or something like that.

Not a box of trophies.

Bile rose quick and acidic as you recalled what had been inside that box, fingers gripping the edge of your mattress as you tried to control your breathing.

Various pairs of womens underwear. So many it was beyond inconceivable, and all carefully folded to fit inside the wooden confines, clearly precious to whomever had placed them there.

What was worse is that you spotted a familiar set tucked away in the midst of the array of colors and materials. Your own fucking stepfather had stolen a pair of your underwear.

Tears rolled down your face as your breathing spiralled out of control.

Every interaction since coming home was now colored differently in your racing mind, bearing a more sinister undertone now than any of the warmth you usually felt when it came to the man you looked at like a father.

But he would be home soon, you needed to get yourself under control and you needed to do it now. He would be expecting you to be ready to go through the usual evening routine you had fallen into: cooking dinner in comfortable silence, occasional chatter about his workday, the familial domesticity of sharing the work of cleaning up before spending the rest of your time either together in the living room or in your separate spaces. You in your bedroom, him in his study.

Your skin crawled, feeling like something damp and slimy was wrapping around you in a vise grip, like a cobra made of all this sickness swimming around inside your head and your gut.

The thought of cooking side by side, cleaning up and feeling him wrap you in a hug was enough to make you feel ready to expel everything inside your body.

The clicking and thudding coming from further down the hall sent chills running down your back as you sprung up, frantically rubbing your eyes with your sleeves. Oh fuck. You cringe, knwoing that he’ll be able to clock it immediately that you’d been crying and you couldn’t stomach the idea of him comforting you right now. But time was rapidly ticking down, marked by the sounds of him tossing his keys in the little ceramic bowl you’d made as a kid, the sliding of a jacket against the metal hook on the wall, the solid thumps of shoes being removed and hitting the wood floor.

“Hey, sweetheart, are you home?” The question drifted through the house, reaching your now hyper aware ears.

After taking a few seconds to steady yourself you padded out of your bedroom, arms wrapped around yourself like a shield. “Hey, dad. How was work?”

Before he can answer he looks up at you, instantly his features are awash in concern and you shrink away automatically, before you can catch yourself.

“Something happen today?” His crystal blue eyes moved methodically over your face, making you feel hot all over and suddenly gripped by fear, like pinpricks of ice punched into your heart.

“No, just… Just feeling sad. A little bit.” Your voice is stilted and awkward but he seems to buy it, giving you a little aw sound before pulling you in for a hug.

“S’alright baby. Hey how about we make your favorite tonight, yeah?” He gives you a kiss on the temple and it makes you squirm, the barely contained urge to break out of his hold and take off at a breakneck speed back to your room surging through your head, but you stuff it down.

Shyly you back up, trying your best to give him a wobbly smile. “Sure, that sounds good.”

Dinner was mostly uneventlful, thank god. Because of the sheer stress and anxiety the actual act of cooking and doing dishes passed by in a blur, and you didn’t have the ability to choke back much food but he seemed to chalk it up to your low mood and didn’t pry.

Except that now, as you laid in bed in the dark of your room, your every thought focused on the fact that he was shut away in that study. What was he doing in there? Going through the box, relishing in the feeling of all those things in his hands? Or was he zeroed in on yours, face pressed to the silky material with deep inhales, getting rock hard like a fucking freak?

Fresh tears gathered in your waterline, spilling over and rolling down your cheeks, puddling in your ears but you couldn’t care less.

You’d never wshed more in your life to be a sorcerer. Maybe then you could feel more confident, if not in confronting him than at least in fleeing. At least you’d have some ability, no matter how small, to protect yourself and shove him out of your life. But instead you were just a sniffling, regular person. At an extreme disadvantage against someone like him. Pathetic.

You curled up on your side, squeezing your eyes shut against the overwhelming thoughts and the sheer disgust pooling in your belly.

As you gave all your focus to your breathing you could feel yourself slipping away, exhaustion setting in after hours of being wound so taut you were like a string ready to snap in two.

You locked your bedroom door, certainly.

It’s dark when your eyes crack open, a different sort of darkness than when you had initially fallen asleep, the sort thats thick as molasses and just as difficult to rid yourself of. It doesn’t register until you try to stretch onto your side, a tug of resistance against some kind of binding. Immediately your eyes snap open fully, heartbeat thrumming as adrenaline shoots through your veins at light speed.

You thrash, twisting and noticing with a sickliness that someone changed your clothes, or rather removed them and left you in only a pair of underwear.

Immediately the room turns cold, as if you’ve been transported to the Arctic circle in the blink of an eye. All you can do is whimper as your eyes adjust and your movements come to a halt. It’s then that you catch sight of a familiar shade of white blonde, shining even in the darkness.

Your stepfather is leaned against the dresser across from your bed, body language lax and lazy, like a cat thats been stretching in the sun after a good meal. You find his eyes, that shocking blue shade no longer familiar as he pins you with the weight of them. His small smile is seemingly meant to convey bashfulness but you see through it, catch sight of the predatory glint of his canines as he pushes off the piece of furniture and walks around to the side you’ve turned your head towards.

“Hey pumpkin, we should probably talk huh?” You flinch, pushing your body back against the mattress as if you could put any distance between yourself and him. The restraints looped around the rods of your headboard thoroughly prevent that.

“Now, don’t be so high strung. I had to make sure we could have this conversation, you get that right? Now listen, I don’t know what you think you saw-”

“You’re a fucking freak,” you spit, full of vitriol as you glare at him, breathing heavily now. You forget to be afraid, forget the vulnerability of your current position. All that matters now is making sure he knows you think he’s beyond disgusting, a man no longer your step father but a bizarre monster.

In a split second his hand cracks across your cheek, making you yelp as your head snaps to the opposite side. Immediately a sob bursts from your lips, the sting already setting in. It’s so shocking that you can only gape at him as you face him once again, an odd feeling of betrayal setting in. Not even when you were on your worst behavior did he ever so much as raise a hand to you, barely ever raised his voice even. The man crouching down next to you is unrecognizable.

“C’mon, I’m trying to have a real conversation with you, don’t be a brat.” You bite your bottom lip, hard enough to wince, but you don’t cry out and you don’t interrupt him.

“Now, you’re a smart girl. Always have been, so you should be smart enough to know that sometimes a mans just gonna have urges, sweetheart.” His long fingers sweep against your burning cheek, making your breathe seize in your throat painfully.

“You’re sick,” you croak out, his face becoming blurry as tears fall anew.

You can hear him laugh humorlessly. “Yeah, maybe so. But I’m also a good man, a good dad. Coulda just threw you out, you know. Thought about it. But your mom was just so sweet, I figured whats the harm in keeping a little of that sweetness around.”

His words make you feel like you could vomit, the implications speeding through your head are enough to make you dizzy and you briefly wonder if he hit you hard enough to cause some kind of brain damage. You don’t get long to ruminate on it though, his thumb rubbing around your lips in slow, steady circles drags you back to the present moment.

“You look just like her, I ever tell you that? I wonder if you taste the same too.”

That makes your heart drop all the way to your ass, blubbering pathetically as his hand creeps down your chest now, stopping to squeeze at your breasts and twist your nipple harshly.

“Really, your dads not a bad guy honey. We could’ve gone our whole lives without anything like this, but you just had to be nosy huh?” You’re not sure if he’s really talking to you or talking to himself and you don’t truly care, all you want is for this to stop.

“Please dad, you don’t have to,” you get cut off by his hand slipping down the front of your underwear, long index finger stroking against your wetness and its with horror that you realize yes, you are wet right now. It makes you choke on your own spit, renewed vigor in your movements as you start tugging against the restraint again.

He seemingly lets you tire yourself out, hand never withdrawing, just continuing to stroke you before his fingers connect with your clit and you bite back a groan.

You hear his grin more than see it as he speaks again. “Let yourself relax pumpkin, it doesn’t have to be so bad.”

You whine, low in your throat, but find yourself complying. Your body stills, your breathing the only sound beside the soft slick noises of his fingers playing with your pussy. With your eyes shut you can almost forget that it’s your own stepfather doing it, can pretend you're just sexually exploring with someone else, anyone else.

But his other hand grips your face, squishing your cheeks together and forcing you to open your eyes. “Nu-uh, you gotta keep those pretty eyes open for me baby.” You cry out feeling his thumb press hard against your clit, feeling a pulsing like a second heartbeat reverberating from your cunt. “You know, I’m kind of glad you find that stuff. Been thinking about this for a long time.”

You let his words wash over you, hating the way they make your pussy clench around nothing. Are you so fucked up that you’re getting off right now? You decide it doesn’t matter, none of this matters. Just a bad dream from start to finish. Thats all.

“M’sorry dad,” you say, voice breaking and you hear him coo at you before letting go of your cheeks, shifting to lean back on his knees before you can feel him working to slide your underwear off. You don’t kick or thrash, eyes trained on the shadowy ceiling.

“It’s okay honey, you know everythings okay.” He breathes the words against the flesh of your inner thighs as he slides down onto his belly between your legs. “I love you.”

You can’t answer before he places a kiss to your puffy clit, making your legs jerk and your breathing hitch in your chest. His lips wrap around the sensitive little bud and begin sucking, light and rhythmic and desire wraps its fingers around your mind. You moan openly, hands twisting against the soft fabric binding them. He hums into your soaked cunt, dragging his tongue up and down through your folds, fingers prodding at your entrance before pushing against the ring of muscle, sliding inside you and making your head spin all over again.

You don’t realize you’re bucking your hips against his hand, greedily trying to take more of his fingers inside as your walls reshape to accommodate the intrusion. His fingers are perfectly slender, long enough to reach the spots you’ve never been able to get yourself and making your vision swim.

His nose bumps against your clit in just the right way, making you cry out for more, a sort of delirium settling into your very bones an dhe obliges your unspoken need with his tongue.

“Please daddy, please,” you blubber, barely coherent, “love you- I love you-”

With a garbled cry you feel yourself coming undone, your muscles flexing so tightly your back raises off the bed, legs screaming from the strain as you cum.

On the comedown he never stops rubbing your pussy, making you sob from the prolonged contact and your own sensitivity post orgasm. As you cry you can hear the soft shushing of fabric moving, being discarded, thankful for the momentary break in physical contact.

“There she is,” he murmurs, voice gentle as you feel the head of his cock bump against your clit, push through your mess of arousal and cum to coat his dick. You feel conflicting horror and excitment at the feeling, horror at yourself for being excited at the though of him pushing inside you fully.

You don’t get the chance to respond before he was doing exactly that, the head of his cock sitting heavy inside you as he gave a few shallow thrusts that made you pant and wince. He felt heavy inside you already, but you weren’t given much of a grace period for adjustment before he was pushing in once more, clearly relishing in the way your gasped and arched upward once more.

The sheer girth of him was astounding, coupled with the length reaching impossibly far up inside you and in a sickening way you felt jealous that other girls had felt his cock before you did. He was your dad, didn’t it just make sense?

“Knew you’d take it so well, pussy was made for me, yeah?” He grunts out as he bottoms completely, hips nearly flush with yours and hands pressing your thighs down firmly to open you as wide as possible. And it all felt impossibly good, better than anything you’d ever had before.

You nod your head dumbly, still thick with the pain from his slap and the afterglow of your earlier orgasm.

He doesn’t start with a soft pace, not that you really expected him too. Clearly it had worked him up, the time he’d spent lavishing your cunt with attention and the thought made you feel strangely proud at having been the reason your stepfather was painfully hard and fucking you into the mattress with abandon. The pace was so brutal all you could do was hang on to the restraint, feeling your breasts bouncing wildly as he gripped your legs so hard it would definitely leave bruises in the morning.

“You take it so much better than any of the others,” his voice is strained, probably from the way your clamping down around him and the way your walls are massaging his cock frantically, as if you need his load or you’ll die.

A thought pops into your mind and you squeak it out before you can stop yourself. “Your favorite, dad?”

“Ah fuck, yeah you’re my favorite baby.” His head tips back as he lets go of your legs to grab your hips, yanking you up a bit more than what your current position allows but the pain of it feels delicious in tandem with the way his cock rams against your cervix, another round of tears falling as your mouth drops open in a silent wail.

The way hes holding you open makes you feel like you’ll snap into a million pieces, it’s all so suddenly overwhelming and you don’t notice the way his thrusts become sloppier, his moans more unintelligable as he pushes even deeper inside you with every internal push. And suddenly hes caging you, gripping your face again but not to squish your cheeks it’s clearly to force you to look at him and you do, eyes blown wide and still wet with saltwater. His own fairytale blue eyes lock with yours before his lips crash against your own, all clicking teeth and sliding tongues, uncaring towards the spit leaking from the corners of your mouth as you squeal into the surprise kiss.

Whats more shocking is how good it feels, as if what you needed to completely tip you over that insane edge was his kiss, all consuming and blotting out any lingering thoughts of how wrong this all was. And it worked, suddenly you had no qualms about chanting his name like a prayer as he rubbed our clit once more, desperately trying to get you over the edge with him again.

As that coil snaps inside your body and the rush of endorphins flood your brain you’re struck by the thought that nobody could ever make you cum like he has, and how even though he hasn’t even pulled out yet you already want him to do it again.

And its then that you feel it, that thick gooey warmth spreading inside your pussy as he gives one last thrust, as if he could shove all of himself inside you. Between kisses and the grinding of his hips, like he wanted to keep fucking his cum inside you, something shifts fully. An irreparable rearrangement of your mind. Of course looking through his things was wrong, any parent punishes their child for being naughty no matter how old they are. And really, your lucky your dad cares so much about you that he let you cum twice, let you feel his cock stretch you out and kissed you while you cried.

He even came inside you, so you can be good for him now, right?

Apparently you’d been speaking aloud as he rubbed his hand over your tummy, pressing down slightly as he pulled out to watch the way his cum oozed out of your exhausted pussy.

“That’s right honey, see you are my smart girl. And if you’re real good daddy can fill you up again, would you like that?”

You nod blearily, feeling utterly boneless against the rumpled sweat soaked sheets.

“I know you’ll behave, my good girl. Better than your mom, anyway.” He says offhandedly as he rises, grabbing his hastily tossed clothes, and you can’t help the way you shiver at that. The vague threat tugs at your mind but for now you decide to shove it away.

All that matters is being as good as possible.

And maybe getting on birth control.

#tw.dark content #tw.pseudocest #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satoru smut #gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #satoru x you #gojo x female reader #jjk x fem!reader

280 notes · View notes

lovexjoe · 5 months ago

Text

In Love With A Stripper Part 1

Synopsis: what happens when a big time cartel meets a stripper? Warning: drugs, language, mention of death, prostitution

Xiomara was turning 19 today. She’s been stripping since she was 18 and no this isn’t one of those “trying to get to the bag” stories. She doesn’t have a choice. Her boyfriend at the time was killed during a bad drug deal. Which left her to raise a son all on her own. Stripping pays the bills and teaching during the day allows her to save up. She’s trying to move back to the States, if she was by herself she would just pick up and go. But Ricky needed stability and daycare cost a lot in the US on top of housing.

Tonight was a big night at the strip club as the cartels are celebrating a birthday today. Ricky was with his grandma, who truly felt sorry that Xiomara had to do this. Her son passing the way he did wasn’t ideal but he made his bed and now he sleeps in it 6ft under. Xiomara still provided money to her because her late boyfriend always helped out and it was one of his last wishes. Plus she really was the only family she had.

Her stage name was Luna. She had one rule, never sleep with anybody. Her friend Chichi at the club informed her she might have to give it up for one night, cause these men pay. They were currently in the alley way grabbing some cocaine and other pills for the girls back at the strip. It helped numb the pain from the heels or whatever reason they had to do it. Spinning around on a pole looking like a fucking Barbie doll will do it to you. She never judged, she just never participated.

“Chichi dale! I don’t want the rest of the girls getting the best poles. I got stuck on the loose one in the back yesterday and almost busted ass” Xio grew impatient as they wait for the plug to pull up. She acted a certain way around these girls to blend in. During the day she was squeaky clean for the kids she taught. They waited another minute when a man showed up, his eyes meeting Xio’s immediately. She stared at him back as she watched their transaction. He looked filthy rich yet here he was making a quick buck off of women. Disgusting.

“You doing sum of this?” He looks at her and she shakes her head.

“Nah not for me.” Interesting he thought. It wasn’t for him either. Her Bambi eyes making her look innocent. She’s still a stripper after all….

“We’ll see you inside Aretas! Move ya ass Luna we’re late already!” Chichi walked as fast as she could in her heels with Xio trailing behind her.

“You’re not gonna say thank you?” He calls out to her. Xio turns and salutes him.

“Thanks jefe!” Xio says before laughing to herself. To think that’s what Andres was doing before he left this earth left a sour taste in her mouth. An interaction like that cost him his life.

~~~~

The girls dove into their choice of drug before heading out on the floor. Xio touched up her lipgloss, sprayed her perfume and headed out on stage. Armando entered the strip with a group of his homies. Tonight was a night for celebration. What’s being in the cartel and committing crime if you can’t celebrate right? His mom’s escape is set for next week, so they have to blend and do their usual shenanigans which is going out. Laying low would cause some suspicions.

The girl from earlier caught his eye. She seemed pretty young to be working in the strip but then he remembered Mexico wasn’t all it was made out to be. Yes, it’s beautiful but you get caught up with the wrong crowd your future vanishes in an instant. The strip club had a scent of perfume, hookah and sweat. Not the greatest pairings. He saw Chichi his regular, they usually vibe together but tonight….he wanted her. After drinking and vibing out with his friends they all disperse to their private rooms for a dance.

“Alright lover boy. Who you picking tonight. It’s on the house.” Armando glances around as the manager of this place follows his eyes. He saw her, rotating the pole so elegantly, her eyes alone could make a man empty his pockets. He nods his head in her direction.

“Her.”

“Luna! She’s the youngest one here. Have at it pal!” Armando tensed up wanting to punch him in his shit but realized this environment comes with that type of fuckery. He walks over to her, admiring as she spins her way down from the top of the pole to the bottom. She started to dance around the pole, working her body to the beat. They both lock eyes as she walks over to him like a pretty little kitten.

“May I have a dance? Birthday boy is owed it.” She looks him up and down, taking his hand and leading him to the back. She was thinking about their interaction earlier. So the drug dealer that was outside was Aretas not some random. Well….at least the bills will be paid for months for these girls. He is what everyone says he is: handsome but those looks definitely killed.

He sits down as the music changed to Persian Rugs by PartyNextDoor. She closes the curtain, walking over to him, touching from his shoulders down to his thighs her hands slowly glided. If she was gonna go against her rules for one night it was going to be worth it. She’d rather it be him then some old fuck anyway. Turning around, she starts to give him a lap dance and he’s completely in a trance.

He’s come in here a handful of times and nothing left him satisfied, but this one she has him hooked. He hoped she was new because if he has overlooked her this entire time he’d be annoyed. Simply because she doesn’t try too much as if she’s just trying to slip under the radar. She worked her waist line and he couldn’t help but touch her as she grinds her ass against him. His hands falling on her waist, he took control, making her grinds slow and pressed up against his bulge.

You’re usually not suppose to touch, but the way his hands steered her body she didn’t want to object. His cologne and natural scent just gave off money and gave her stomach butterflies too. He made her slow down, her pussy completely pressed up on his bulge. She started to feel herself getting hot. She hasn’t been with anyone since Andres passing a year ago. What’s up with her and drug dealers anyway?!

He pulls her backwards so she’s completely laying against his chest as she starts to ride his thigh. Her body was so sensitive she could feel every movement against her clit. What the fuck is happening right now. He caresses her cheek, tilting her face to look up at him.

“Fuck mami, can I kiss you?” Their foreheads touching.

“Yes” she says breathless. Without hesitation their lips touched, Armando didn’t know what came over him tonight, but it was his birthday after all and she seem to be the only girl that didn’t throw herself at him. She turns her body around to face him. Her hands pulling his body as close as she could have him. Their bodies just melted into each other like as if they were made for this moment. Two puzzle pieces. Armando feels her shaky breaths against his lips and knew this wasn’t an occurrence on a daily basis or probably ever. Most of these strippers were numbed down to the bones yet this Bambi eyed princess has nerves.

They slowly pull away, but he holds her still. She shouldn’t be cooped up in the club and ogled at. She seemed too delicate to be working here, her skin so soft but her hands had callouses. He tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Get dressed, you’re coming with me.”

“I-I can’t I have to stay here or else-“

“I’ll handle it. Just get dressed for me and I’ll pick you up out back.” She agrees and heads out to the dressing room. She didn’t think she had a choice in that decision. She texted Andres’s mom letting her know that she’ll be out for the rest of the night. She changed into her cargo pants and t shirt with sneakers and heading out back.

She has no idea where this night will take her.

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95

Let me know your thoughts below 🤍

#jacob scipio #bad boys #armando aretas #bad boys ride or die #armando aretas x reader #armando aretas concept

179 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 5 months ago

Text

Secret Underneath Part 7 ( Steddie X Plus Size You)

Warnings: Older (Mid thirties) Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Young (Early to mid 20s) Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, slapping (brief), reader just letting out some aggression with Daddy's help, dirty talk, etc. FLUFF, they love her and tell her so a lot.

ANGST (because I'm me), the discuss more about what happened with the fallout of Gina and how they reacted when it came to Y/N. More insight into why the guys and Gina split (she's not a good woman). Reader does a thing at the end, I'm not calling it a cliffhanger but it could be construed as one.

Word Count: 5342

Series Here/ Donate to Me

“Would either of you like more coffee?”, your mom asked as the pot in her hand hovered over their cups.

“Oh, no ma’am. Thank you though.”, Steve politely smiled as Eddie shook his head to answer her question as well. “The breakfast was delicious, sir. Thank you for allowing us to join you and your family.”

“Ok, calm down, son. That’s not the way to suck up to me and her mother.”

Both boys glance your way as you try to stifle your giggles behind you mug as you sip your coffee.

“I think I’m starting to see where princess gets her sarcasm from.”, the rockstar grins.

“Yeah, we spoiled her too much.”, you mom teases as you stick your tongue out at her reply.

“If I may ask, what would be the way to suck up to you because we love Y/N very much and we would do anything possible to earn all three of your trust and acceptance back.”

The room became silent as Steve’s words hung in the air.

“To be fair, honey, when it comes to us, our first experience with you is hurting our daughter. We didn’t even know she was seeing anyone again.”, you mother relayed as her eyes flicked towards you. “Everything we know about you is either from the tv or her when she came home crying.”

Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as her words pierced his heart; they never wanted to be the ones responsible for your pain.

“You may not like hearing it but it’s true. You have to accept what you did to her first before you can move forward. A thousand years of marriage taught us that.”

“Oh my God.”, your father sighs. “You calm down to. Everyone at this table is so theatrical. I need back up. Where is Mya?”

“Mya is probably knocked out but I’m sure she’ll be around later.”, you smile. “There’s a lake behind the house here if you guys want to go for a walk.”

“Yeah, we’d love that.”

***

“If you’d like after this, we can run to your hotel and grab your clothes so you can change. You can stay in our house to if you want.”

Eddie’s palm balances just under your own as you hold your arms out while walking along the bank of the water.

“We don’t have to. I mean…we don’t want to over crowd you or make you uncomfortable.”

“Said the men who were asleep at the foot of my bed this morning.”

“We were worried about you.”, Steve replied as he carefully traveled behind you to make sure you didn’t fall.

“Well, I’m offering but if you’d be more comfortable in the hotel I’d understand. My family and Mya can be a lot.”

As you jump down, the metalhead guides your decent making sure you’re alright before you three continue moving forward.

“They are a part of you and you aren’t a lot.”

“Not enough to be open with me.”, you grumble before you watch their heads hang. “I’m sorry.”

“No, um, no reason to be. You’re right.”

“Can I ask…what’s been happening since I left?”

“Jesus, fucking everything.”, Steve sighs as he takes a seat under a tree and you both follow him down with you in between. “I have no idea how she’s doing all these interviews at one time. We can barely get through one in general without being exhausted.”

“Gina and her lawyer have been making the rounds on daytime talk shows and sites like TMZ. Our lawyer says that tactic works in our favor because she either puts her foot in her mouth or contradicts herself so we can use that in court.”, Eddie exhales heavily. “All we’ve done so far is make that statement on Harrington’s social media which everyone has picked apart already.”

“Did that do anything for you?”, the mogul asks as his gaze shifts your way. “We were hoping that referencing you that way in our statement would help keep all that chaos away a bit.”

“I wouldn’t know since I haven’t looked at my phone. The only reason I know you said anything is because I had a weak moment and scanned your profiles on my computer.” Your head hung for a moment before you sarcastically chuckled and looked his way. “Now Gina’s interview saying that you’re only dating me because I’m the opposite of her, that was an accident. My mom was watching her morning shows and…”

“She’s not entirely wrong.” Your head swiveled towards Eddie as you waited for him to explain. “You ARE the complete opposite of her which is another reason we love you. If we wanted another Gina we could have just stayed with her.”

Your eyes closed at the words “we love you’, not quite ready to believe and accept them just yet.

“So, yeah, did you guys have a lake like this back in Hawkins?”

“Y/N—”

“We should probably get you to your hotel so you can change and get your stuff.”, you interrupt as you hastily rise to your feet and dust off your pants.

“Baby—”

“No.”, you growl as you put up your hand to cut him off. “No, Steve. You both don’t get to call me that right now. Don’t let this whole thing fool you. I’m still incredibly angry with you and it’s going to take more than a conversation and a meal with my parents to get me back.”

Silently the three of you walk back to your house but your mom’s loud voice cuts through the winter air as you come around the corner.

“…and after the things she’s saying about MY daughter?! Gina Frost can go fuck herself!”

Eddie moves first, powerwalking forward and placing himself between a well-dressed man and your mother.

“If I were you, Daniel, I would get in your car and go back to New York.”

“Are you threatening me, Mr. Munson? I’m not a woman you and your friend are dating so I imagine not.”, the man responds sarcastically.

The rockstar angerly steps towards him but you hastily grab his arm and in return he stands up straighter to make sure you’re shielded with his body.

“Is this Miss Y/L/N? I just need to talk with you if you’re able—”

“She’s not involved in anything between us and Gina. If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with our lawyer.”, Steve defends, placing himself beside his friend to block the man from you and your family.

“Trying to silence another woman, gentlemen?”

“No.”, you answer for them as you push forward. “They don’t speak for me nor would they ever try. You have one minute to say what you want before my father gets involved and trust me, you thought my mom was combative?”

“Can I at least have a minute alone—”

“No. 55 seconds.”

The man reaches into his pocket and hands you a card that you pass to your mother around your protecters.

“I’m looking for some more character witnesses to corroborate Gina’s statements—”

“Oh, honey, I’m the last person you should ask because from what I’ve heard our experiences with these men have been very different. 30 Seconds.”

“Are they? How was the charity event? They used to bring her every year.”

“She was their partner. Try again. 25 seconds.”

“It took them awhile to do it. Even longer for her to move into their apartment. How long have you three been together?”

“Who says we’re together? They’re my friends. 15 seconds; you better make them count.”

“Gina was their friend for years before they got together and before they started lavishing her in gifts and all that material bullshit. How long was it until they started doing the same with you? This case was started almost 7 months ago. When did your friendship with them begin?”

Your eyes blink as your jaw tightens and you try to hide the doubt that hits your heart at his line of questioning.

“Time’s up. Get off my family’s property now.”

##################

You sit quietly as you stare vacantly out the window while both men quickly change and place themselves on the bed in front of you.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”, Steve asks with a soft tone as both men’s eyes constantly scan you over with concern.

“I don’t want to believe him…”

“But you do?”, Eddie follows trying to hide the pain in his voice.

“I can’t help it. You hid things from me and then you fucking left! No, you expected me to be ok with you disappearing for ‘some time’ which is way worse.”

“Fuck me her lawyer is fucking good.”, the mogul breathily laughs as he shakes his head. “Yeah, the case was started two months before we met you but do you know how long we were separated before we ever considered trying to find a partner again? Eight months. Eight months of alcohol filled days and hiding in our apartment because the idea of going out sounded exhausting. Eight months of watching her plaster her pages with pictures of her tongue down other men’s throats after deleting everything that had to do with us.”

“When we got served those papers, we spiraled even more.”, the other boy continued. “It finally got to the point where I told him we needed to try and get back out there. We started slow going out to bars or parties and we met so many women, Y/N. They would fucking beg to come home with us but we could never do it.”

“Not the right target?”, you sass but regret it immediately when their hurt and anger filled eyes meet yours.

“We told you when we first spoke with you that we aren’t into ‘yes’ girls and that’s all they were. We went to the site and it was a bunch of the same shit.”

Steve pulled out his phone and ran his fingers along the screen until he found what he wanted and began reading.

“Please Daddy. I’ll do anything to be yours especially if you can afford to get me something as expensive as your shoes! I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I’m not really into the threesome thing but if you show me your faces I can pick one of you and give you the best sex you’ve had in your life.”

“I’d love to meet you but we may need to go to the mall first. You can’t take me out in cheap clothes like the ones you’re wearing.”

Your eyes rolled as you listened to what the other Babies had said to them hating that women like them existed especially since you knew a lot of “Daddies” preferred that. After pushing another button on his phone, a high-pitched giggle filled the room.

“Stevie! Answer the phooooooone! Ugh, fine. Whatever. I just wanted to call to tell you guys I won’t be able to make it tonight for dinner. My friends are doing this thing and its sooooo stupid. Do, um, do you think you can send me $300 so I can have some real fun? I promise I’ll make it up to you two! Love you!”

“Steve, I’m out here fucking waiting for you. Why aren’t you here? If this is about me saying I didn’t feel like sleeping next to trailer trash tonight, Eddie knows I didn’t mean it. I was just…you know how I am when I get upset and he promised to take me with him to that interview with Kimmel so I could meet him backstage! It’s not my fault I got wasted and made him miss the stupid plane.”

“Fuck you both! I’m fucking done! I needed you this weekend and neither of you were there! The fucking press and people on the street are calling me a fucking whore and TMZ is making the rounds with my fucking mugshot! You’re going to regret throwing me away! The least you can do is send me some money for the hotel since I can’t go fucking home now.”

“Wow…well she sounds like a winner.”

“Stop it.”, Eddie rumbled in his Daddy tone that had you unintentionally sitting up straighter. “We’re trying to explain something and this is serious, Y/N. Every Baby we talked to reminded us of her…except you.”

“And it’s not because we were targeting you or needed you to show how, I don’t know, how fucking amazing we are or some shit because we aren’t. We’re flawed and sometimes we can definitely be assholes but I swear to God, Y/N, we never meant to hurt you. These past few months have seriously been the best of our entire lives. I offer to pay for things and take care of you because I love you. No, hey, look at me.”, Steve scolds when you avert your gaze at his declaration again.

“It’s not because we need to establish a relationship quickly or whatever Gina’s lawyer is preaching. You have never tried to take advantage us and selfishly we took advantage of that by commanding you to wait in your apartment without telling you want was going on. That’s never going to happen again, baby girl, and I don’t care what I have to do to make sure it doesn’t.”

“Trust us, sweetheart, the speed of this relationship startled us to. We constantly asked ourselves if we were moving too fast even though we told you we needed to go slow. But like Steve said everything we do is because we love you… I love you.”

Your eyes took them in as they spoke, fully absorbing what they were telling you.

“Is there anything else I should know about you and her?” After exchanging a look, they shake their heads. “Please don’t lie to me.”

“We’re not, baby, we promise.” As tears cloud your vision, you close your eyes to try and suffocate them as they betray you, falling down your cheek. Ringed hands cup your face as a forehead presses to yours. “What can we do, Y/N? Tell us how we can help, princess.”

“I want to be mad at you.”, you whisper.

Eddie’s head straightens, understanding what you need.

“Then be mad. Let it all out, baby. You aren’t at home and we’re on the top floor. Shout, scream, hell, hit us if you need to. Just like you we know the word and we know when to use it.” Still seeing trepidation in your eyes, he clears his throat as he stands to his full height. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be a little baby.”, he coos with a mocking tone that has you standing to match him.

“I’m not being a baby!”

“Oh really, little girl? Sound like a baby to me.”

Your palms reach out to shove him but the rockstar quickly bounces back as you push at him again a bit harder.

“M’NOT a baby! I have every right to be angry with you!”

“Yeah, ya do, baby! Let it out! Tell me why you’re angry with us!”

“I was ALWAYS vulnerable with you and more than accommodating but you both couldn’t do the same with me! You hurt me!”, you screamed as you began punching his chest with your fist barely moving him in place. “You made me feel like trash! You took me out and treated me like a queen but as soon as things got hard for you two you threw me away!”, you began to sob. “You gave me hope that I could finally be fucking happy after what Holden did and then with one letter you ripped it all away!”

Dropping your arms to your sides, they watched as your body shook as the tears continued to flow. Abruptly, you turned to leave but when Steve’s hand reached out to grab your wrist, your palm reeled back before smacking him hard across the face.

The mogul didn’t say at word or let you go as his head swiveled back and his forehead fell on yours. Your eyes remained zeroed in on his chest as it heavily rose and fell with each angry pant, matching you own as the intense energy hung in the air. Again, you slapped him but it wasn’t as hard as before. Repeating your actions, the force of your palm connecting with his cheek became less and less until you were just cupping his face in your hands.

Your lips roughly attach to his as a small whine leaves your throat at the taste you missed so much. A needy atmosphere replaces the old one and Steve’s strong palms grip your thighs as you jump up to wrap your limbs around him.

Tumbling onto the bed behind you, the mogul desperately tugs down your jeans and panties as you fumble with his belt before reaching into to his own pants to free his cock. The two of you groan into each other’s mouths as you collect some of your slick with his tip and guide him into your entrance.

Hovering above you, Steve delivers a couple of slow but deep thrusts that have your eyes rolling shut and your fingers threading through his hair when his entire body presses against yours.

“We’re so sorry, honey.”, he whispered breathlessly. “Mmph—ah, fuck—we didn’t think…fucking stupid.”

You shook your head and pushed his closer to your neck as your legs clung to him tightly.

“It hurt me the most be-because…Jesus Christ, Daddy, just like that.”

“Because why, baby? Tell Daddy.”

Your pussy clenched around him as his heavy pants rippled through your ear making you mewl as he pumped into you at a harder pace.

“Because I love you to, Steve.”

The moan that rumbled through him was one of the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard as he thrust into you so fast the bed shook aggressively underneath you. Keeping his arms secure around you, the man pushed up onto his knees, bringing you with him as he continued to thrust upwards as your palms held his face and his eyes locked in on yours.

“Please…again…”

“I love you, Steve, so much.”

“Oh shit.”

As he pressed his head into your chest, you felt his release begin to paint your insides and at the sudden action your body trembled as you came.

When you glanced his way, Eddie couldn’t wait any longer, having been stroking his cock at the display before him and desperate to feel you in his arms again. Pulling you off his friend, he stepped out of his jeans and threw of his shirt, positioning you onto all fours with your ass in perfect view for him.

The rockstars fingers dug into your thick hips as he slid himself inside you and leaned over to lay his chest against your back.

“Fuck, sweetheart, we missed you so much. I promise we will—mmm—never make you feel like that again. You deserve the world, baby.”

With your eyes close, your mouth blindly searched for his and he obliged as your lips passionately mingled together.

“I-I love you to, Eddie. Fuck, Daddy, please… harder.”

Pushing up onto his palms, he pulled his cock all the way back before slamming back into your cunt hitting that soft spot inside of you repeatedly that had you a moaning mess. His sweaty forehead was resting on the side of yours and as you opened your eyes, you watched as his gorgeous features contorted into pleasure as he picked up his rhythm.

“That’s it, Daddy. M-Make me cum.”

You couldn’t help but smirk when his nose scrunched in focus as he did what you requested. Falling completely on top of you, your hand quickly grabbed his as your pussy quivered around him and you whimpered as the coil snapped in your belly. The feeling was almost too much for Eddie as his pace sputtered and he grunted against your skin as his release filled you.

After gently pulling his softening cock out of your now sore but content body, Eddie rolled you onto your back and continued to kiss any part of your neck and face he could reach until a second set of lips joined him on your opposite side.

“I forgive you.”, you mumble causing their movements to stall before they raised both their heads to look at you. “I forgive you. I’m sorry I broke your rule about googling you. I only looked up your lawyer’s information. I swear I haven’t be looking up information since—”

Steve’s palm over your mouth cut you off.

“We understand. That rule was bullshit anyway… Another way for us to hide Gina.”

“We looked through your socials.”, Eddie revealed as his hand brushed some of your hair away from your face. “We had never done it before because, like you said, we wanted to learn about you from you but when we couldn’t get a hold of you…”

“Did you find anything interesting?”, you tease making both men smile.

“There’s a video on there one of your kids tagged you in where they were joking with you about slang or something. They seem to really love you.” Eddie’s grin grows when you lightly giggle. “Y/N, we’re sorry about not updating you more on our case. It didn’t even occur to us how this could ripple out and affect your job.”

“We’d hate ourselves if we were the reason you lost something like that.”

“I forgive you.”, you repeat before continuing. “I do have to make it clear, though, that this can’t happen again. I meant what I said, I do love you both but I’m not going through all of this again. I…refuse to.”

Their lips kiss your cheeks as they hold you tighter to them.

“This is never happening again, sweetheart.”

“We promise, honey.”

#####################

As you step out of the shower at your house, you smile as you listen to Eddie’s cackle echo through the house at something your dad said before Steve’s lighthearted tone tried defending whatever was said.

Glancing towards the drawer by your bed, you let out a heavy sigh before reaching in and grabbing your device to scroll through the screen.

All of your socials had tags attached that you assumed were people claiming the “mystery woman” was you and the comments everyone was saying in response. There were a ton of emails from news outlets asking for you to say something or give them a quote to confirm it was indeed you that went to the charity event with them but thankfully nothing from your boss or the school.

You saw a bunch of texts from Mya, your mom, and surprising your ex who assured you he wouldn’t say another to the press even though a few got his information as well.

Going through your voicemails, you skipped passed reporters and the couple from Gina’s lawyer that you couldn’t care less about until a familiar voice followed through your phone.

“Hey, sweetheart.”, Eddie chuckled with a slight slur in his tone that told he was probably drunk at the time. “I just wanted to call you myself because…Because I was thinking about you. I think about you a lot…like all the time, Y/N. Even before all this bullshit with our ex… I would be in the studio with the guys and be like ‘I wonder what pretty girl is up to?’ You’re so beautiful, baby, inside and out. I had a dream about you last night. I was back home in my trailer and I heard you screaming outside. I ran to find you b-b-but I couldn’t. I started panicking like ‘She’s gonna think I didn’t try…try to come save her.’”, he sobs making your heart break at the sound.

“No matter what, princess, I’d be here for you. I love you so much. I’ve never loved anyone as much I love you… Fuck…I shouldn’t leave t-this on your machine. Pfft, Machine. Like it’s the 90s still.”, Eddie laughs at his own joke. “Anyway, um, yeah…I just wanted you to know…that we miss you an we love you, baby. We so sorry…”

The rest of the message was his heavy breathing where you assumed he fell asleep making your grin grow as you wiped one of the tears that fell. Pushing the button for the next message, Steve’s gravelly voice followed.

“Hey, Y/N. Um, I’m so bad with these things. Eddie’s a lot better with technology than I am but I’m so desperate to hear your voice, honey. I miss the sound so much and not just your voice but your cute little laugh or even the adorable way you sneeze with your entire soul.” When he laughed you giggled along with him. “Jesus…we really fucked up, huh, baby girl? When I was a kid, I would watch women come and go from my dad’s office and I would think ‘I’m never going to be like him. If I had a good woman like my mom at home I would never hurt her like this. I would never make her feel unloved or unwanted.’… We understand if you need some space… I just…I just don’t want you to think we’re doing ok without you. We love you, Y/N.”

When you selected the next message, you have expected it to be another declaration of love or an apology from the guys but when a high pitched sigh came through grating your ears you were surprised.

“I hope I’m calling the right number. I’m usually a texter but I felt like something like this required a call. My name is Gina Frost and I am Eddie and Steve’s ex. Listen, honey, for your own good, leave them now while your heart is still intact. I spent years trying to be what they wanted me to be and it was never enough. The first time I stood up for myself was when I left them and they dragged my name through the mud! They are great at twisting the truth to fit their narratives. Don’t get pulled in. Would you be willing to meet with me so we can talk?”

You growled at her tone and accusations as what they told you, her voicemails on their phone, and what she said about you on national television swirled around your head.

Opening your Instagram, you uploaded three images with different captions. The first was from the night of charity event that Stephanie took of you three before you left the apartment with you in-between them and their arms wrapped around your waist posing with their other hands pushed in their pocket. Your grin stood out as you laughed at their insistence to not smile in pictures so it looked “sexy yet intimidating” while showing you a demonstration.

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N and as a lot of you may have noticed I am the woman that went with Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington to the event last month. I have known these men for a few months and have been in an intimate relationship with them for some time. For my privacy and because of the things being said online by Miss Frost, they tried to protect me by referring to me in the media as ‘just a friend’. I hope that notion alone goes into the column that they are not the lies that people have said about them. I love them both with every fiber of my being and I have never felt safer in my life then in these men’s company.”

The second image was a video of you and Steve sitting in your living room on the floor where you were trying to put one of your face masks on him while he kept making jokes to keep you laughing.

“Why is it, cold?!”

“Because, you dork! It good for your skin now stop moving.”

When he playfully sticks out your tongue to lick your wrist as it grazes his lips, you can’t help but lean back on your knees as your tummy shakes with almost uncontrollable giggles.

“Steven! Stoooop.”

“You want me to stop being adorable? I can’t do that, honey. That would be like asking me to stop breathing.”

“Steve Harrington is one of the kindest souls I have ever met even going overboard sometimes. I thoroughly believe that if he could move heaven and earth with his own two hands just to see me smile he would. He has never once asked me to change who I am but has himself adjusted his own personality to make me comfortable without me even asking. I love him as is but he can be stubborn when it comes to people he genuinely cares about.

Your third video had Eddie straddling your waist while pinning your wrists to the floor. The power had gone out due to a storm so you three had been passing the time anyway you could think. While play wrestling, he got the upper hand and leaned down to kiss your lips.

“Woooo! And Eddie Munson wins by a landslide!”

While he pretends to be praised by a nonexistent audience, you wrap your arms around his waist and push your chest against his bare one, flipping you both around till he was underneath you.

“Oh no! And with the cruel hands of fate, Eddie Munson is no more.”

You giggle as he closes his eyes and pretends to pass out before you lean down to kiss him, making him grin as his fingers tangle in your hair. When you go to sit up, some of your locks get tangled in the metal of one us rings and his playful tone promptly changes to a concerned one.

“Oh, hang on, princess, I got you here. There we go. Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you or anything? Good.”, he beams up at you when your shake your head and the video stop as he leans up to wrap his arms around you in a big bear hug.

“Eddie Munson is so sweet and caring. He’s very protective and does whatever he can to make sure I know I’m safe whether that be by making me laugh or holding my hand till I feel comfortable. He’s never belittled me or physically hurt me in any manner unlike men from my past. I love this goofy rockstar and there is no place I feel safer or more at home than in his arms.

Gina Frost believes that these men chose me because I’m nothing like her and I genuinely believe that is the only thing she’s said with any truth. I would never hurt them the way she did and continues to do even though they are no longer in her life. They deserved better than you and I will do whatever I can to make them happy because they do that for me every single day.”

As soon as you posted your response, a small wave of fear rumbled in your stomach as the likes began to quickly fill up your notifications until you noticed the only two handles that matter when it came to your words.

“@thereal_EddieMunson liked your post.”

“@thereal_EddieMunson added your post to his story: “My princess is a queen 🤘.”

“@StevenHarringtonOfficial liked your post.”

“@StevenHarringtonOfficial added your post to his story: “I would move the stars in the sky if she asked me to.”

A wide smile paints your face as you blush and hastily get dressed to skip downstairs.

“Jesus, child. Took you long enough. Were you writing your memoirs up there?”, you father joked as you came around to hop on a stool at your kitchen counter next to Eddie who was picking at the appetizers your mom had made while dinner was being prepared.

As you reach for a slice of garlic bread, the rockstar leans towards you to kiss your cheek before taking your other hand in his and placing it on his lap.

Steve, who was helping by cutting up vegetables, met your eyes across the marble and smirked as he gave you an adorable little wink.

###############

@aol19 @paradisepoisons @paleidiot @dashingdeb16 @lilaclazer @joannamuns9n @thwippyparker @emotionaldreamer @aactuaaltraash @alastorssimp @mygirlchaos @starksbabie @imagine-all-the-imagines @hardladyheart

223 notes · View notes