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breadbrobin · 5 months

Text

“doc”

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[child of apollo reader, should be gender neutral]

i tried to write a summary but it sucked so: reader is a child of apollo and luke is always hanging around the infirmary with a new injury. you hate it (do you really?)

(this got so out of hand but im so obsessed with luke castellan rn it’s not even funny. like. help.)

warning: like one or two swear words, mentions of injuries and illness, fluff i think

word count: 1.2k

____________________

you’d never been a fan of luke castellan. you knew it, he knew it—hell, everyone at camp knew it.

but a little unfriendliness never stopped him.

children of apollo were meant to be warm and kind all the time, but you’d rather die before being happy-go-lucky all the time like your siblings. you’d rather do your job: healing the campers who injured themselves throughout the days at camp. you’d also rather those campers not include luke castellan for once, but not all wishes can come true.

scarcely a day could pass by without luke coming into the infirmary, or coming up to you elsewhere in camp if you weren’t there, with a minor injury that he insisted needed healing immediately.

“i just don’t think i can continue kayaking with a sprained ankle, y/n.”

“what if it was your knees you skinned? wouldn’t you want to get them healed so you could get back to arts and crafts?”

“if my cut finger isn’t healed as soon as possible i’ll have to sit capture the flag out tomorrow! yes, i know it’s a paper cut. that’s not the point!”

he really was ridiculous.

either way, you had to heal him, technically. at your heart, you were a good person. on the surface, you wanted to punch him. give him something to really cry about.

“y/n, your boyfriend’s here again.” one of your sisters, cassidy, called out to you as you checked the stock of bandaids.

you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to correct her. “what this time?”

“i just have the worst headache, doc. it’s killing me.” luke said dramatically, holding his forehead. the small grin on his face didn’t support his statement at all.

you turned around, eyes wide and face serious, but trying not to smirk. “oh no, you might have meningitis! if it’s the worst headache of your life, we should get to you a hospital so they can do a spinal tap and run some tests.”

the grin on his face faltered as you pulled him to a seat. “uh—“

“lie down. don’t move. i’m going to get chiron.”

he gripped your arm. “no, wait, i think—“

“you’ll be fine?” you turned around with raised brows. “yeah, thought so. drink some water, castellan.”

“but—“

“what? you won’t be able to do sword fighting practise with a headache? big deal.”

“y/n—“

“you need to stop coming in here every time you get bored. we’re not an entertainment space.”

“but, i really do have a headache. like. a migraine.”

you stopped and turned back around, dropping the bandages you had been organising. “oh. shit, i’m sorry. hold on.”

cursing yourself internally, you rushed off to get nectar to hopefully help, along with some painkillers and a bottle of chilled water. when you came back, luke was lying on the bed, eyes closed.

“you okay, soldier?” you patted his shoulder gently.

he cracked one eye open and nodded. “kind of.”

you gently pulled him to sit up. “come on. gotta get some meds in you. eat any food today? drink enough water?”

he shook his head as he sipped the nectar, his eyes squinted. “got busy.”

you shot him a disapproving look and he smiled guiltily. “you need to eat or you’ll die. do you want to die?”

he looked up at you with furrowed brows. “you don’t have a very good bedside manner, you know?”

“then why do you keep coming back here?” you went back to organising bandages, busying your hands.

“i like my doctors prettier than they are kind, honestly.”

you froze your movements and looked over at him. luke was smiling slightly. your cheeks weren’t turning red, you told yourself. they weren’t allowed to. “whatever,” you finally said. “take your meds, drink all of that water—sip it, don’t chug—then get some sleep, alright?”

he nodded, taking a sip of the water. “yes, doc. got it.”

you nodded at him firmly and walked off once he’d taken the painkillers, hoping he couldn’t see right through you.

luke hadn’t been to the infirmary in a week, and you were genuinely starting to get concerned.

every free moment you got, you were staring at the door, or out the window, waiting for him to come in with some stupid injury and even more stupid excuse. but he didn’t.

after watching you pace for the seventh time in one morning, cassidy groaned. “just go find him.”

“i’m sure he’s fine.” you said, wringing your hands. “i mean, he’s probably just busy.”

“just go. you’re stressing me out. i can’t get anything done with you filling the room with your nervous energy. go find your boyfriend.”

“luke’s not my boyfriend.”

“i never said who it was.”

“well, it was pretty obvious—“

“just go!” she threw a bandage at your head, effectively forcing you out the door.

you didn’t even know where he was.

camp was huge, so it took you around twenty minutes to find him, he sun glaring into your eyes and likely burning your cheeks. regardless, you were on a mission. finally, you spotted him in the arena. of course.

you watched for a while until he noticed you, standing in the shade with your eyes squinted in the sun and your arms crossed over your chest. he grinned and jogged over.

“hey, doc. what brings you here?” he asked, sheathing his sword.

your eyes followed the precise movement. “why haven’t you been to the infirmary?”

he shrugged. “i haven’t been injured.”

“didn’t stop you before.”

there was a silence.

then he smiled again. “did you miss me?”

your cheeks burned. “no!” you cleared your through awkwardly. “i just… i get… bored. and you… keep the monotony away.”

“you missed me.”

“i did not miss you.”

he leaned closer, rocking back and forth on his feet. “you missed me.”

you glared up at him, but couldn’t fight the tiny smile that forced itself on your lips. you shook your head, pressing your lips together tightly. “nope. didn’t miss you.”

“well,” he shrugged. “guess i don’t need to tell you that i did actually just hurt my hand while training, huh?”

you frowned. “are you aware that consuming as much nectar and ambrosia as you seem to want to will cause you to burn to a crisp?”

“i don’t need godly food if i have you as my doctor.” he smiled cheekily, clenching his fist then wincing. “seriously, though. it hurts.”

“aw, poor baby.” you pouted, leaning forward and placing your hand on his and trying to feel if there was any injury present.

before you could do anything, his fingers had interlocked with yours and he was stepping closer to you.

you looked up at him, heart pounding and cheeks burning. “what are you—“

“i don’t know what we can do for a date around here, but i’d love to take you on one, doc.” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

you froze, heart fluttering. butterflies danced in your stomach. you found yourself nodding before you could stop yourself, smiling. “okay. yeah. take me on a date, soldier.”

“yeah?” he smiled, squeezing your hand. “great! i’ve been trying to work up the guts to ask you for weeks now. also, can i kiss you?”

“i’ve been trying to pretend i didn’t want you to ask me for weeks.” you said, stepping slightly closer to him. “also… yes.”

his free hand cupped your cheek and his lips pressed to yours, soft and sweet.

you wondered why you ever said you didn’t like him.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell #pjo #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you

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reiderwriter · 6 months

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can i request for a mean!spencer x bau!reader? like they are not enemies but there's just this really intense sexual tension with prompts 2, 30, 48, and 49? thank you!

#2 "I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last person on earth.” #30 "You're not as hot as you think you are.” #48 "You belonged to me before I even made you mine.” #49 "I'm so fucking obsessed with you.”

A/N: Thank you for requesting! Sorry it took almost an entire season to get it done 😭 I hope it's as good as you expected it would be :D

Warnings: slight BDSM themes, Dom!Spencer, dry humping, choking, thigh riding, finger sucking, cum play, facial, penetrative sex, use of contraception, probably more that I don't remember right now... 18+ Minors DNI

There was no one you wanted to spend the night with less than Spencer Reid.

He was annoying, and frustrating and most importantly never knew when to shut the fuck up.

No one was better at getting under your skin, and no one seemed to relish it quite like he did. It wasn't that you hated the man, just that he had the presence of an unkillable mosquito in your life.

He was irritating.

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?”

“I try not to make a habit of it,” you rolled your eyes, pushing past the man as you both finally made it to your motel room for the night.

You weren't sure if this was divine punishment or Emily's idea of a joke, but you'd ended up with Reid as your roomie for the next week.

As your case location was remote and as back waters as it could get, you'd ended up needing to bring Penelope Garcia along with you physically. And with only four rooms available, the eight members of your team had to all scramble for acceptable roommates and, having gotten off the jet last, you'd drawn the short straw.

Rossi had been quick to pair up with Luke, citing Spencer's snoring habit as reason enough, and the girls had happily fallen into two pairs. It was your lucky day.

With your hands busy with your bags, you tossed the key to Spencer quickly and waited for him to unlock the door, eager to escape the cold chill of the night.

“Hurry up, Spencer, or we'll both turn into popsicles out here.”

“Not only is that physically impossible, but it also isn't that cold out here, Y/N. Don't you think you're being a bit sensitive.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and he let out a sharp chuckle as he finally managed to unlock the door.

Despite your best wishes, stepping over the threshold didn't solve your problems. Instead it seemed to present even more.

“Fuck, how is it colder in here than it is out there?” You said, shivering violently as you stood in the doorway. If you thought that was reason enough to cure though, you thought you'd practically spit fire when you saw the sleeping arrangements for the night.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your body forgot its fight to keep warm, letting your blood run cold as you found yourself face to face with one singular, though large, bed. Another cursory glance around, and the heart motifs on the walls and pink themes cushions on the bed suggested that this was likely the motels joke of a Honeymoon Suite.

“Emily did mention that we booked out their last four rooms.” Spencer said, walking up beside you and frowning deeply as he took in the same scene you did.

“She said nothing about the rooms being igloos though, Spencer. I never thought hypothermia was going to be my cause of death after spending the night with you in the room.”

“You think I'd shoot you.”

“I think I'd shoot myself.”

He scowled a little at that and moved to check the room's thermostat. Although it was presently reading 215° so you didn't know how much good that could do.

“There's no sofa,” you grumbled as you watched Spencer move to the small bathroom.

“And there's no hot water. And according to the sign on that table, there's nothing we can do about it until the morning.” You picked up the sign yourself, just to verify and practically moaned in frustration.

“This is insane, we'll freeze to death.”

“It has to drop below 32° in here for us to even possibly freeze death. There's no wind, rain and we have blankets, so maybe you should focus less on being dramatic and more on what we can be doing to warm up.”

“I'm sorry, Doctor Genius, whatever can I do to warm up? Please impart some of your wonderful knowledge on me, I beg.” His eyes flashed with some annoyance and you quietly enjoyed the expression, happy to have affected him as much as he affected you.

“You can start by stripping.” It was his turn to enjoy the abject look of horror that crossed your face in that moment, and you were convinced that of he let even a hint of a laugh out, you'd throttle the man.

“I'm sure you'd just love that,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well, there's no water, no thermostat and no other source of heat, so if you're so worried about hypothermia, there's only one solution viable to us right now.”

“You're joking. You want us to huddle together for warmth?” You backed yourself into a corner as you tried to distanced yourself from him as he suddenly began divesting himself of clothing.

As soon as he reached the top buttons of his shirt, you let out a quick squeak and turned around.

“Unless you want me to watch you get undressed too, I suggest you hurry up and do it before I get into bed.”

You quietly cursed and started unwrapping each of your layers, fingers fumbling with the cold already seeped into your skin.

“I am not getting naked, Spencer Reid.”

“I didn't ask you to. Just get comfortable.” You turned around to shoot him a glare, but when you noticed his back was turned - and bare - you lost all memory of the purpose of the movement.

You'd never quite realised before how broad his back was. His shoulders looked strong despite his lithe frame, twisting rather attractively as he pulled his nightshirt over his head. You were almost disappointed that he wasn't facing you, suddenly curious about Spencer Reid's happy trail.

You snapped yourself out of it and continued to change, wrapping your coat around your waist to hide your legs as you switched your pants to your sleep shorts. It was an awkward fumble, but at least the lights were low.

When you were finally ready, your steps back to the bed were hurried and near painful as you felt colder than ever.

Spencer was already there, and without a second thought, you pulled the quilts up and plastered yourself to his side. He was the only thing in the entire room offering you a modicum of warmth, and you weren't going to let your personal hot water bottle go just because everything that came out of his mouth was hot air.

“So you're a big fan of this now, huh?” He said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in. Your back was pressed against his chest as you both laid on your sides, piles of duvet and blankets laid out on top of you. You hated to admit it, but this position was comfortable.

Maybe it was just months of working cases non-stop and perpetual singleness, but the feeling of a man at your back was infinitely pleasing.

“Don't expect anything more Spencer Reid. I wouldn't have sex with you if you were the last man alive.” The words were harsh, and if you were being honest, a little bit untrue. Your small peak at his back earlier had definitely sparked an interest in you that was bubbling up in your throat. Like bile.

“You don't have to worry about that. You're actually not as hot as you think you are.” His words were tinged with the same faux bitterness as yours, but you refused to hear it. Instead all you felt was another unpleasant heat spreading throughout you, quiet anger plotting in your stomach.

You knew you probably shouldn't push it, but you needed Spencer to eat those words. Desperately.

Your mind ticked through a few options before landing on one. If you were so unattractive, then surely there's no way he'd physically react to you.

Scooting your body closer to his, you take advantage of the less than comfortable bed, making each of your movements similar to ones you would make when getting comfortable. Except, of course, with the added bonus of making sure your ass pressed directly up against his crotch, moving up and down and grinding into him.

You felt him slightly stiffen behind you, and decided that a few we'll time groans of frustration could go a long way to spurring him on.

So you began letting little gasps and sighs out, graduating to moans when you thought he wouldn't question it, each small movement rubbing against him deliberately.

What you'd failed to remember though, was his hand on your waist. Although you knew he was awake beside you, despite the now late hour and somewhat comfortable bed, his hand held you firm. Or it did until you risking bounced yourself gently against him, and his now limp hand slipped underneath your shirt.

The moan you released then was genuine, the cool touch of his fingers against your burning skin causing you to flush and shiver at the same time. You cursed your earlier self for valuing your comfort over your general peace of mind, because as Spencer's hand once again settles centimetres away from the edge of your boob, you desperately wished for your bra back.

You stopped moving, hoping that if you just pretended to sleep for a few minutes, his hand would reach higher and he'd prove to you that he did think you were attractive. He didn't though, showing off how gentlemanly he was. It pissed you off. Most of his good qualities pissed you off, and you were sure that said more about you than him .

You tried your best to just give in, to even out your breathing and let the black haze of sleep take over but his hands on you were maddening, and you found your body reacting in much the same ways you'd wished him to react.

It didn't help that he'd casually shifted his lower body away from you slightly in your stillness, letting himself fall onto his back rather than his side. As he made this shift, his hand trailed across the expanse of your body before cutting all contact with you altogether.

So much for huddling for warmth if all he had to do to return you to record heats was stroke you like that.

You needed to feel him again, so, feigning the most realistic sleeplike movements you could muster, you turned your body in his direction, and placed your head over his chest. You weren't finished, just proceeding with caution. Your hands obviously fell over his chest, if slightly lower than you'd expect.

It was only when your leg finally came up over his that he broke his silence.

“I know you're awake, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear, a solid hand on your thigh holding it down right over his crotch. You felt your prize and grinned in your sleep.

He was hard. You'd won. It was time to play.

You opened your mouth to purr victoriously at him, but he moved so abruptly you were never expecting it.

Shifting his hands to your ass, he hauled your body over him, letting his hands stay on your hips as he began to help you shift them back and forth. You moaned at the friction, even as your head stayed rested on his chest. The movements were shallow, just a teasing but you already felt more aroused than you had in months. Slowly, your hips started moving for themselves and his hands moved onto more important things.

“Am I suddenly the last man on Earth, Y/N?” He smiled, tipping your head up so you could make eye contact with him.

“Go to hell.”

“I think we're already there, don't you?” With that, his large hands sat you up, meeting with no resistance as you let yourself become pliable.

“Show me.” He whispered, hands right on your hips, pushing into your flesh just a touch part forceful.

“Show you what?” You narrowed your eyes, but you knew exactly what it was he wanted and that you weren't going to out up much a resistance before giving it to him.

“Show me how much you want to fuck me. Since your mouth isn't honest, I'm going to have to listen to your body.” You let your hands fall to his chest, pushing lower until you reached the hem of his shirt. He'd pushed the quilts off of your torso, letting the cold air attack your upper body, so you knew your hands were cold, and the hiss he let out at the contact was satisfying enough to shut up and actually start following his directions.

You shifted your body up and down, grinding and dry humping his crotch, wishing for him to stop being a tease and just get it over with.

He wasn't letting you compromise, though. Each small sound that left your body met with a soft smirk from him, each halt in your movements a prod from his hands. You'd tried to still your hips entirely once out of frustration, but he'd delivered a slap to your ass that had you gushing, desperate to reach a release even if he'd only allow you it this way.

“I don't think you're trying hard enough.” His voice was lower than before, something gravelly to it as he began pulling your clothing off one item at a time. Your sweater went first, before he flipped your positions and shimmered your shorts off your body, taking underwear soon after and then you were bare to him and he was rolling you once again.

“That's better. Now, where were we?” He moved your hips for you again, but his eyes stayed focused in the rigid peaks of your nipples, bouncing with each rock of your hips. You weren't sure if it was the cold temperature of the room or your sheer need to cum that had them reacting, but you knew he was seconds away from wrapping his tongue around one and giving into you, so you just accepted it.

His hands stayed put, still on your hips, though the direct contact was heating you slightly more. If you looked down, you were sure you'd see a wet patch against his sweat pants, so you didn't.

You just moaned and whimpered searching for your orgasm on top of him.

“What's wrong, Y/N? Do you need my help to finish?” He noticed your every insecurity, your weakness and exploited it. You were running close to inconsolable, desperate to hit that climax now, more than ever before, so you just nodded at him profusely, desperate for him to touch you in whatever way he could.

It wasn't his hand you felt on your clit, though. It was your own, he wrapped a hand around your fingers and bought them up to the correct stop, showing you exactly what he'd like to see.

“Touch yourself, Y/N. Touch yourself and wish it was me.” With the friction from grinding against him for so long, the satisfaction from the rigid tent underneath you and your hands taking his guidance, it was really not long before your pussy finally twitched familiarly and sighed, soaking his pants underneath you as you shuddered in delight.

He had to ruin your moment of bliss by talking.

“Is that enough, slut? Or do you really need to be filled right now?”

You didn't care if he saw you sticking your tongue down his throat as you collapsed on top of his chest as an answer to that question, or if he saw it as what it was - a desperate attempt to shut him up. All you knew was that he tasted sweet and hot, and that his hand wrapped around your throat was also hot as he pulled you up and off of him.

“Let me be clear. I am in charge.” A simple shift of his legs was enough to flip your positions, landing on top of you ungrateful, but you didn't care.

Using his new high ground, he wedged your legs open and slid a single finger inside you as you moaned. He too found success in silencing you by sticking his tongue down your throat, forcing you to battle him for dominance you knew he'd never allow you.

Having cum only moments before, you truly believed that there was no way he was going to push another one out of you after so little time. The night was full of surprises though.

As you relaxed into his intrusion, he opened you up with a second finger, then a third. You already felt yourself building towards your end goal, but it was his head dropping to tour cold nipples that finally had you cumming around his fingers. His mouth was wet, tongue warm against your skin, and he toyed with you so effectively, you practically forgot your previous qualms.

“See? You belong to me before I've even made you mine.” It irked you that he was right. Had this been any other man, you're sure you'd be bragging about such passionate sex for weeks with your friends. You were resentful that it was him, but you didn't want it to end yet.

Your arms pulled up to hide your face as he traced kisses up and down your chest, fingers coming free to pay attention to your since abandoned nipples.

“I can't wait to fuck you. You're going to feel so good wrapped around my cock,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your arms away from your face, making sure your eyes were focused on him before his next line.

“You have no clue what you started. I'm so fucking obsessed with you.”

His hands fell to your face, where his thumb pushed against your lips, slipping into your mouth where you sucked on it, getting it wet as his cock teased the folds of your pussy, running up and down with each gentle push of his hips. You entertained him for a moment before pushing up slightly, his thumb falling from your mouth as you blindly reached for the bedside table. Pulling it open, you were relieved to find what you were looking for.

“If you're so fucking obsessed with me, Spencer, show me.” Carefully unwrapping the package, you grabbed his dick and gently slid the condom onto him, making sure it was secure before you propped yourself back on the pillows, waiting for him to initiate once again.

“Pillow princess. You're acting like I haven't been dreaming of exactly this for the last 12 months.”

You couldn't waste time processing those words before he again ran his cock through the folds of your pussy, then sank himself deep inside you. And you meant deep.

The sudden impact robbed you of your thoughts, pushing out every miserable thought and leaving you with just Spencer and pleasure. The two concepts soon became synonymous as his hips lazily sent him careening in and out of you.

His strokes gained speed gradually until the only words shared between you were the animalistic pants of pleasure, his voice driving you insane as you tried not to get overstimulated before you could cum for a third time.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, Spencer-” your moans turned to screams as your orgasm rolled over you, his dick hitting just the right spot inside you that forced your nails to bite his skin, and forced your voice to scratch at your throat as it pushed up from your gut.

Noticing your relentless twitching, Spencer immediately pulled out of your cunt, allowing you a moment of reprieve. Pushing up to his knees, he moved to your side, his crotch parallel with your face as he rolled the condom off his dick.

Stroking himself to completion, he came right over your lips, your eyes dripping with lust as you licked them clean, catching the dribbles that fell down your chin with your fingers and popping them into your mouth as well.

After your whorish display of desperation, it took a full ten minutes for your brain function to resume.

In that time, Spencer had cleaned both of you up speedily with a hotel towel, wrapped an arm around you and began spooning you once again, his chest warm and comfortable against your back, his scent intoxicating.

It didn't stop being so when you finally came down from your post-cum bliss.

“You're not allowed to tell anyone what happened tonight,” you said, turning over to look him in the eye.

“Nothing from tonight, got it. What about tomorrow?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, am I allowed to tell them how I plan to wake you up tomorrow, and how your current state of dress made it possible, if not directly invited it?”

You flushed at his words, tingling already at the mention of tomorrow.

“We're sharing a room, Y/N. If you think I'm not going to be inside you whenever were both free, you're entirely mistaken.” His voice was clear - not even a hint of hesitancy in his voice.

“I'm not letting you go that easily, Y/N.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you

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nikitaxlee · 10 months

Text

All Yours?/ Possessive/Obsessive Felix X Fem! Reader

Warnings: Obsessive/Jealous/Possessive Felix, Smut, kinky sex, Mentions of murder. Light breeding.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Please feel free to request anything for I am new and need ideas.

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

You were plagued on felix's mind 24/7. He constantly thought about you, and was inextricably obsessed with you. "Fuck, baby, just like that. Right there- Holy shit, Fuck I'm cumming all over those pretty tits."

Felix had his phone in his right hand as he jerked himself off to a picture on your Instagram. You had a nice top with a lower neckline but not to much. You had tagged Felix due to the fact he had taken the photo. How could he not jump at the chance to have a photo of you. Especially in moments like this when he craved sweet release.

"Shit, Mommy, I can't, I fucking can't hold out any longer, I-I Need it I need you, baby." Finally he released his load all over his hand and phone.

As he came down from his high, Post-nut clarity hit him hard. He realized he had a date with you this afternoon and needed to shower and get ready. He put on an nice white, linen button up, unbuttoning the first few buttons enough to show his defined collarbone. He grabbed his phone, which he had cleaned off, and wallet and walked out the door to his car.

As he drove to the cafe he played one of your playlists while imagining blowing your back out to one of them. As he arrived to the cafe he noticed your undeniable beauty sitting at a table with a guy.

Wait... With a guy? That couldn't be right. Felix was the only guy who could speak to you. Make you smile. And even just look at your sexy features. Felix rushed to the scene. 'I'm about to kill this fucking asshole, who the fuck does he think he is? He should know a pretty girl like my Y/N is taken.'

"Y/N? Ready to go?"

"Oh! Hey babe! Meet Salomon, he's from Australia as well! Brisbane actually!" You said as you shot Salomon a smile.

"Oh, cool. That's really cool. But we should go now. We have a date planned." Felix said as he gave Salomon a fake sincere smile.

'I don't know how much I can fucking take before I snap.'

"Bye Salomon! I'll talk to you later." You said as you waved goodbye.

Later. What the fuck does she mean by later. There is no later.

And you too continued walking

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

4 Hours later

Felix walked into the scene of you sitting on the couch tapping away on your fun happily. He enjoyed seeing you smile in his presence. He wanted you to be happy with him all the time.

"Whatcha doing babe, Playing a game?" Asked Felix.

"Yeah, Something like that."

Felix went to cook dinner for the 2 of you to finish up such a wonderful day. He heard you giggle in the next room over. Then he heard it again, then again, and once more, again. He finally decided to check on you to see what was so funny. He silently crept up from behind in hopes he could see what you were doing

He noticed you were texting someone and at first he thought it was one of your friends. Until he noticed the contact name.

'Salomon <3'

He snatched your phone out of your hands as rage overcame him. "What the fuck Y/N, What makes you think you can just go about texting another man when you have a boyfriend right here that would love to talk to you." He sounded genuinely hurt and offended that you would even think about another man around him. So you felt bad.

"I'm sorry babe, I didn't know you would be so offended, I was just bonding with-"

"NO, this is our time together." With that he grabbed by the neck and pulled you in to kiss him. The kiss hushed some of his terrible thoughts about killing Salomon but he could still feel the jealousy.

Felix laid you down onto the couch as he took off the tanktop he was wearing. He let out a deep whimper as you caressed his abs.

"Mhm- Fuckkk please touch me Y/N, Show me your mine, Show me I can put a baby in you. Show me I can fuck you better than he would ever. Show me I'm all yours."

You slipped your hand into his pants as you felt him up. You moaned as you felt his cock pulsing waiting to be used.

"Baby, please, I can't wait. Let me just put it in, Let me fuck a baby into you so everybody knows I'm yours as you are mine. So Salomon knows he will NEVER get you as long as I'm around."

You nodded as he pulled down his sweats and boxers and started jerking off his cock. He honestly felt bad he didn't eat you out or at least finger you, but this was you punishment for even thinking of another guy.

As he pushed in, inch by inch, you let out a high pitched moan. He started fucking deep and slow.

"Yes babe, yes take it. Take it all. Suck up all my cum with that tight, needy hole. I want you to be pregnant by the end of this month."

He picked up the pace and kept waves of pleasure moving through you. He know every nook and cranny, every spot, every detail, and he knew that he would make you cum harder than any other bastard that even dared to try. But he knew they wouldn't, because they'd be dead. As you moaned his name you felt him pulse inside of you cueing he was cumming. Suddenly he slammed his hand onto the end of the couch and pounded you.

"Cum, Cum for me, cum so fuckin- ahhh, yes, yes, yes"

He moaned as he released inside of you causing you to orgasm. As you both came down from your high. Felix gave you a deep, passionate kiss before saying, "Mine."

He carried you up to the shower before running it for you and hopping in.

"Y/N, You know I love you so much and I'm serious about putting a baby in you."

"Slow your roll pretty boy, You need to marry me first."

"I guess I will then."

#felix smut #obsessive felix #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz hard hours #stray kids hard hours #stray kids #lee felix

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makeyoumine69 · 1 year

Text

Starboy

● PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

● SUMMARY: When on one day Mr. Bateman came to your office, you never knew how far it could go.

● WARNINGS: Implied flirt, seduction, small innocent touches, sweet-talker Patrick Bateman himself, minor possessive behaviour.

● WORDCOUNT: 2.6k

● A/N: One more prequel about Patrick and his little Cupcake, I enjoy writing their backstory so much! Btw, I was inspired by this American Psycho edit. As always, I hope you like this chapter!💕

● SONG REC: The Weeknd - Starboy✨

● LINKS: [Sweet like a Cupcake Masterlist] [Main Masterlist]

The days after that “little accident” with Mr. Bateman felt like a horrible nightmare.

You were constantly thinking about losing your job, strolling around your office and watching the sun's rays breaking through the window. What if you just stayed silent and let him ground you into the dirt, soaking up all the shit he was saying–would your boss be satisfied with you then?

The click of the door opening caught your attention before Cindy’s sonorous voice reached your ear. “(Y/N), we should go get coffee! Our favorite barista finally came back. Woohoo, no more shitty coffee!”

With a dull smile on your face, you tapped the papers on your desk. “I need to finish this by the afternoon.” You looked over the documents again, and then sighed. “Just go without me.”

She whined, disappointment clear in her voice, and when you looked at her, she was already standing in the doorway, checking the time on her watch. “I’ll just rush, so our coffee won’t get cold. Do you want a latte or cappuccino?”

“Dealer’s choice,” you chuckled and took your place at the deck. “Just… Don't spill it… Okay?”

“Alright, alright…”

Then she walked away, leaving you alone in your office again. Back to work.

Leafing through the documents was a kind of meditation for you–it helped soothe your mind, distracting you from obsessive thoughts.

Your edits were quick, slashing across the page, adding notes in the margin with a well-loved red pen. The door opened again. “What did you forget this time?” you asked, not looking up. “Cindy, could you also bring me a cupcake–”

“Good afternoon.” A familiar, tenor voice caused your whole body to taut like a string. You knew who it was before you even looked up.

Ever hauntingly perfect, Patrick Bateman was standing in the doorway, casting a studying glance at you. You stood up abruptly, anticipating nothing but the worst. He might really be so vindictive to come in person with your termination notice.

“(Y/N), isn’t it?” he asked smoothly, closing the door behind him.

“Yes, that’s me,” you replied, attempting to sound as confident as you could. “How can I help you, sir?”

“First, call me Patrick,” he gave you his most cocky snow-white smile, roaming around your office and getting closer to your desk. “And please, relax. I’m not here to fire you.”

The corners of your mouth twitched slightly, but that didn’t really ease the tension. His presence here was making you feel weirdly thrilled.

"As you wish, sir, but I’m afraid that a first-name basis breaks the subordination rules of our company,” you pressed the pen against the tabletop, leaning a bit on your other hand. “Penalties are strictly enforced for things like that.”

Amused, Bateman was standing in front of your table, so the smell of his cologne easily hit your nose. “Our previous meeting was… Well, it was horrible as hell,” he said, watching you nervously rap the pen. “I just want to apologize, and I hope you’ll let me take you to lunch, at least.”

With a sharp click, your pen flew away in an unknown direction, but you just ignored that, continuing to act naturally. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I usually don’t have time to eat, 'cause I’m pretty busy and–” you stammered a bit as only now you noticed you were looking into each other's eyes for over thirty seconds straight.

“‘And’?”

“My boss won’t be happy if I don’t have these reviews done by–”

“Wait a second.” Patrick held up a finger to stop you before he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m your boss, sweetie.”

Gulping, you had no choice but to turn your face into a friendly expression and grin politely. “With all respect, sir, you’re the boss of my boss. And, I really need to finish these.”

Patrick huffed as he stared at you, his hazel eyes spinning with green and brown, until they were a hypnotizing spiral that sucked you in. “Okay, I think I get it.” He shook his head, smirking all the time from how timidly you were batting your eyelashes. “Now listen (Y/N), in two hours I will be at Four Seasons, the one down here,” he quickly checked his Rolex, and then glanced at you again. “I’ll be waiting for you there. Don’t be late.”

As if he didn’t want to give you a chance to refuse, Bateman turned around and left your office. The silence filled up your ears after the door closed. Your chest was rising and falling so quickly; you couldn’t really believe what just happened. Biting your lower lip, you thoughtfully slid your hand against the tabletop–a creeping panic was growing in your gut, making it hard for you to breathe.

When Cindy returned fifteen minutes later, you didn’t say even a word about what had happened just before she came back, because it would sound completely absurd. And considering her previous reaction to what you told her about Mr. Bateman, she would probably burn with envy. But there was one more problem–how to sneak out from the office without anyone asking questions?

“Erm, Cindy…I’m going on a quick break,” you mumbled as you got up to grab your coat.

“Wait, wait! Where are you going?”

“It’s nothing interesting,” smiling sheepishly, you wrapped a woolen scarf around your neck. “Oh, did I thank you for the coffee? It was really nice!”

“Hey! Stop messing around!” she protested, standing up from her seat, with arms crossed. “You usually don’t go anywhere for ‘breaks’!”

Sighing, you took your bag and glanced at your watch. Plenty of time. “I’ll tell you when I get back, okay?” a small bluff wouldn't be an issue–you concluded, watching Cindy sadly pouting. “One of our colleagues asked me for lunch, that’s all, you know. Nothing special…”

“And who’s this cutie pie? Ah, don’t tell me, I think I know who it is!” She clapped her hands, and her voice trilled with excitement. “If you say that it’s that nerd from our computer department, I’m gonna die!”

Humming, you gave yourself a few seconds to think before replying: “Yes, it’s him.”

“Eeeee!” she giggled, shushing herself with a palm. “Oh, my gosh, poor ‘Romeo’ finally made a step!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you chided, holding out your hands to soothe her. “I don’t have much time, and I still need to find the place where we’re having lunch. So, see you later… Oh, and Cindy, if the boss calls, please tell her I’m out for some office supplies.”

On that bright note, you left your office, with mysterious excitement.

It was your first time at Four Seasons, though you heard a lot of positive reviews about this place from the top management of P & P. Once you made just one step inside the restaurant, you met at least three or four good-looking females, all dressed with expensive clothes and jewelry. After a quick examination of yourself, you had to admit—your office uniform was looking unsuitable for this kind of an establishment, but who would care? If one arrogant snob didn’t force you to come here, all restaurant visitors wouldn't have to suffer from your “super luxury look”—you giggled sarcastically to yourself before you approached the maître d' — a young blond lady with a very deep neckline. As soon as she noticed you, she gave you a suspiciously friendly smile and greeted you:

“Good afternoon, Miss and welcome to the Four Seasons. My name is Veronica. How can I help you?”

“Oh, hello!” you smiled back. “There should be a reservation under Mr. Bateman.”

The last words you said made her face change literally before your eyes and now it was not as friendly as one minute ago. “Let me check please,” she was sorting through the pages of the logbook, looking at you from time to time from under her long lashes. “Please, follow me.”

The closer you were getting to the table, the more you felt an uprising fear in your chest and you couldn’t really understand what was really scaring you that much: him, this fancy place, or all of these things together. Wrapped in your thoughts, you didn’t even notice you had already reached the place as the maître d' extended her hand, inviting you to take the seat just across from Patrick, who at that moment was studying the menu, with his face half covered by it.

“Have a good time!” The blonde glanced at you contemptuously for the last time before she strolled away.

“Thanks…” You replied to no one, nervously undoing your scarf.

“Glad to see you again, sit down.” Bateman murmured, putting the menu aside, his brown eyes were exploring your frame like a scanner.

“I hope I am not late.”

“No, you are just in time,” he smirked as you finally sat in front of him, your hands nervously fixing the sleeves of your white blouse. “What do you usually prefer to drink? Tea, water, maybe coffee?”

“I had enough coffee today, but thank you,” you looked at him more confidently, as your strategy for this lunch was pretty simple–be nice, friendly, and polite. “This place is so lovely!”

“You think so?”

“Uh, yes. Well, I’m not the type of person who goes on lunch to such places,” you paused as you noticed how attentively he was listening to you, raising his right eyebrow. “So, I don't know what to compare it to, but this one looks exquisite.”

You heard him chuckling softly before Bateman took a sip of his whiskey, pointing at the menu with his stare. “Choose what you want to eat.”

With a warm grin on your face, you took the menu but once you saw the prices–you felt your hair standing on edge. “You know, I’m not really hungry.”

“Stop pretending, sweetie,” damn, did he call you like that again? “If you were not hungry you wouldn’t ask your friend to bring you a cupcake, right?”

Stunned by his sudden trick, you hid behind the menu for a second to reflect on what to answer him back. “You have a significant memory, Mr. Bateman.”

“It’s Patrick,” he smiled at you flirtatiously while his piercing gaze seemed trying to catch any little weaknesses of yours. “As you should know, my type of work requires such things.”

“Of course.” You nodded.

“And… I really prefer you to call me Patrick, but on the other hand, the way you say ‘Mr. Bateman’ sounds kinda hot.”

You nearly let out a nervous laugh but you held back yourself as you gave him a confused look.

Unlike you, Bateman couldn’t help but snigger at your reaction. “Relax, silly. I’m joking.”

“That's what I thought…” You were acting as if nothing happened, desperately trying to suppress an unknown frisson inside your body.

Then, a tall dark-haired waiter got your attention as he came across your table, with a notebook in his hands. “Are you ready to order, sir?”

“Beef Steak with Grilled Vegetables and Sweet Potatoes,” Patrick pointed with a finger, forcing his golden Rolex to wiggle on his wrist. “(Y/N), did you make your choice?”

“To be honest, I’d rather eat something sweet,” you glimpsed at the waiter with hope, because you didn’t even see the dessert menu. “Maybe you can recommend something to me?”

“We have amazing cheesecakes and tiramisu-”

“A dessert for lunch?” Bateman asked in surprise, cutting off the waiter and leaving you a bit embarrassed. “I think Sweet Pea and Tuna Salad sounds better,” he waited for the busboy to take away the menu and then added: “It’s healthier, and it tastes delicious. You are gonna like it.”

Confused, you watched the waiter walking away when you suddenly blurted out: “Actually, you could make an order without asking-”

“I could, but I wanted to give you a chance,” the way he kept interrupting everyone was really pissing you off. “So, how long have you been working in our company? Cause I can’t really remember you,” frowning a bit, he leaned on the back of his chair. “You must be a new one?”

With a cunning smirk, you took a glass of mineral water that was already standing on the table. “Well, you can say that,” you smiled again before continuing: “I’ve been working as an accountant in Pierce & Pierce for two years already.”

Satisfied with how awkward he was looking right now, you made a victorious sip of water, waiting for his next step.

“Two years… Huh, that’s a lot!”

“Yes, but it’s fine we never met,” you stated, meeting his languid gaze more decisively. “Usually, top management doesn’t see any of its workers and it’s okay.”

Bateman nodded, humming something to himself as if the puzzle inside his head finally completed. “Mm-hm, I hope you’re happy with your job and you don’t feel overworked.”

Was it some kind of test? As much as you wanted to lament about all of your grievances, you couldn’t take any risks–how could you even trust the guy who first antagonized you and then asked you out for lunch… in Four Fucking Seasons. That was so weird.

“I love everything about my work. But of course, it’s not perfect but nowhere is.” You replied confidently.

“Don’t you mind if I smoke?” Before Bateman asked, he was already having a cigar in his hand.

Even if you did, what would you say?

“Go on.”

And then you suddenly lost it, as you watched him lighting his cigar after your words, and you could swear to God–never in your life, you saw a man who was smoking sexier than that. Mesmerized, you couldn't take your eyes off of his beautiful features, especially his ideal cheekbones, which looked so sharp–you thought you could cut yourself if you touch them… Touch them?

Meanwhile, Patrick was definitely rambling about something, but you could only see how his perfectly shaped lips curled whenever he was speaking, and damn… His side profile seemed to be forged by a sculptor, as you didn’t really have any other explanations for how this man could be so fine… Wait, what were you even thinking?

“(Y/N), are you listening?” His concerned voice took you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, yes… Sorry! I just remembered about my report, which I should finish today and-”

“So, you’re really overworked if you can’t even stop thinking about your job while being here with me.”

Did he sound really offended, or it was just your slightly clouded mind–you couldn’t really find an answer as he added:

“Maybe I should speak with your boss about this?” he puffed on his cigar, giving you a challenging glance. “And guess what? I think we should have dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” smirking, Bateman blew some smoke rings, his dark eyes glowing with excitement. “Dinner, where we can chill a bit and have a proper conversation. Not like this.”

Just as you were about to reply, the waiter brought your meals, how unfortunate–you thought before taking a napkin, and of course, you touched his palm because Patrick was doing just the same thing. As if you were in some romance movie, you took your hand away like from fire, but that only spurred him to catch your palm again, stroking it nearly notably, and somehow, this time you didn’t even make a move—you only gasped. Rising your eyes on him, you could only see a devilish grin of satisfaction on his face and there was nothing really left for you to do, rather than ask yourself if that was really happening.

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader

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tasteleeknow-remade · 2 years

Text

— addicted to you: homecoming

pairing: minho x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff, angst, established relationship. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 1.9k

summary: minho has been on tour for weeks, he can't sleep, so you send him an audio message to help him relax aka minho humps a pillow.

↳ part one

profanity. afab!reader. obsessiveness. pet names. dirty talk. grinding. cockwarming.

↳ this is part two. READ PART ONE HERE.

You’d slept maybe three hours total. Minho was coming back today. The last time you remembered checking the time last night - waiting to pass out from pure exhaustion - it was around 5am. These last few days were the hardest. You didn’t know how you’d managed it. The past month you kept how much you desperately missed your boyfriend to yourself. Half way through the tour he had called you to say he was coming back, taking a 14-hr flight just to spend a few hours with you before heading back again. It took a lot out of you, convincing him to stay where he was. If he really knew how much you’d struggled this past month, it would have ruined the trip for him. He’d been so excited for months leading up to it. So, you sent him the appropriate amount of i miss you’s and kept the rest quiet.

You were sitting out on your small balcony, watching the rain fall. The sliding door was left open to ensure you were within earshot of the front door. Your leg bounced as you sipped your coffee. It had been storming all day and you wondered if it had caused much turbulence for his flight. He hated turbulence. A few months back you’d taken a trip together and when the plane suddenly dropped, he’d gripped your hand so tightly, you couldn't help but grimace. When he noticed he dropped your hand. “Sorry,” he’d said. “thought you might be scared.” He sat with his hand gripping his thighs until you noticed the tips of his ears turning pink; his usual giveaway for when he was embarrassed. You took his hand back and leaned over to kiss the tip of his ear before speaking, “Thank you.”

Three loud bangs on the door startled you, coffee spilling over the side of your mug. “Oh shit,” you jumped up, setting the mug on the nearest flat surface as the doorbell rang. “Coming!” You ran across the apartment skidding on the floorboards and slamming into the door, palms flat against the wood to stop yourself. Grabbing the handle you swung the door open and found yourself engulfed in the smell of your boyfriend before you could even get a look at him. Arms pinned to your side you found yourself being lifted off the ground. As soon as your feet touched the ground again you pulled your arms free and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re back,” you mumbled into his neck. He was still for a moment and then you were forced to take a few steps back as he walked you into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. You still hadn’t seen his face. His lips and nose brushed against your skin as he nuzzled his face into your neck. Your hand moved up to grasp a handful of his hair at the back of his head, holding him there. He inhaled a deep breath. You tried to move your head back so you could finally look at his face but he held you firm, refusing to let you. “Let me kiss you,” you said, trying to pull back again.

“I need to hold you for a minute.” His voice sounded strange so you relented and relaxed into his arms. He was probably tired, overwhelmed. Your fingers began playing with the hair at the back of his head, tickling his scalp with your fingers occasionally. If you did this when he was falling asleep he would always get the softest smile on his face, like he had never had a worry in his entire life. Your boyfriend’s sniffle broke you out of your reverie and you felt the wetness on your skin for the first time. You pulled his head from your shoulder - no resistance from him this time - to find his cheeks damp and eyes watery. “It’s okay,” you whispered, running your thumbs across his cheeks. You watched his face crumple and then his mouth was on yours and you were taking steps back until he had you pressed into the wall.

“Missed you,” he breathed into your mouth, hands moving to lift you up so you could wrap your legs around him. “Thought about you like this every night.” You pulled his head back by his hair to look him in the eyes.

“You know I missed you too, right?”

“I know.” He tried to bring his mouth back to yours.

“No,” you held him back. “I don’t think you do know.” His brows furrowed as he adjusted you in his hold. You continued, “I cried most nights. I could hardly sleep. I kept showing up late for work because I would fall asleep so late I'd end up sleeping through my alarms. I was running late for my train that time I sent the- the recording because I'd been called into a meeting so they could tell me I'd be let go if it happened again.” You paused, reaching to the neck of his t-shirt with one hand to pull at a fraying piece of thread. “Sometimes, I thought about being really selfish and begging you to come back to me.”

“I would have.”

You looked up into his eyes again. “That’s why I didn’t,” you paused, taking a deep breath. “I never want to make anything harder for you.” Your gaze dropped back to his collar. “I just- I just want to make you happy.”

“You make me so happy, baby,” he said. “You know what I dreamt about?” He moved his head to the crook of your neck and began sucking marks onto your skin. He sucked your skin into his mouth, licked the mark he created and then murmured words into your skin before starting again. “I dreamt about fucking you against the wall like this as soon as I walked in,” he worked on creating another mark before continuing, “I wouldn’t fill you up against the wall though. I was going to take you to the couch,” another mark. “Have you cockwarm me until you couldn’t help grinding yourself into me.” He started on marking up the other side of your neck. “Gotta make sure you’re as needy as I am.” He pulled back to look at your face. “Because I am.” He brushed a stray piece of hair off your face. “Needy for you, I mean. I didn't know how much until I was away from you. Think i’m addicted to you.”

You pulled his head towards you so you could kiss him, feeling his lips against yours again, you knew you could never let him leave without you again. All those nights you’d spent wishing he was holding you, touching you, fucking you. You dropped your legs from around his waist, pushed your hands against his chest to create some space between you. You reached down to loosen the tie at the waistband of his sweatpants. “Did you like the gift I sent you?” You asked, watching your hands fiddle with the string.

“Yeah, fucked my pillow while I listened… imagined it was you.” Your eyes snapped up to his. He grinned at your expression. “Go on, take my pants off, baby.”

“Did you really?” You were still holding the string on his pants.

“Fuck my pillow? Mm, came in my boxers.”

Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants you dragged them over his ass, taking his boxers with them. Before they’d even hit the ground you were grabbing the hem of his t-shirt attempting to pull it up over his head. He laughed, reaching up to help you. He threw it aside as he stepped out of his sweatpants, kicking them away too. You put your hands on his chest again, pushing him until he took two small steps back. “What?” He asked, a small smirk on his face.

“Just having a look,” you answered, dragging your gaze from his mouth down his naked body and back up again. He stood still as you did it, letting you get your fill of him. When you met his eyes again he stepped towards you.

“I passed the inspection, did I?” He stood over you, your back to the wall, one of his palms flat on the wall beside your head, the other playing with your hair.

“I want to watch you fuck the pillow.”

“Yeah?” He rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed, the hand that had been playing with your hair reaching under your dress. Suddenly he pulled his head back. “Where’s your underwear, sweetness?” His hand moved from your hip to cup your cunt. “Did you want to be ready for me?” He moved his fingers through your folds lightly, tracing from your opening to your clit over and over. “You’re like a little gift, aren’t you?” He pulled his fingers from you and brought them to his mouth, pushing both his index and middle finger between his lips then pulling them out again, coated in his spit. “Mm, definitely addicted,” he murmured and then he was turning you around and pressing you into the wall, your palms against the smooth surface. He attached his mouth to your shoulder as he pushed his crotch against you “Gonna let me grind against you like I did that pillow?” He grabbed your hip with one hand. “Arch your back for me, baby. Good girl.”

You were completely gone. Imagining him fucking himself into that pillow ruined you. You had to make him do it in front of you. His cock slipped between your legs, startling you. “Minho!”

“It’s okay, honey. Just gonna rub myself on you lick this, grind my cock against your wet little cunt… just like that.” He had one hand holding one of yours to the wall while the other gripped your hip. His cock was spreading your lips as he ground himself back and forth. “So warm.”

You’d missed this, feeling him against you, his soft voice. “Don’t leave me again… please.. you can’t.” You burst into tears, gripping the hand he’d had on your waist so you could pull his arm around you, his chest pressing into your back.

“Shh.. never… never leaving you again.” He pulled away from you and took your hand so could walk you over to the couch. He dropped himself into it. “Sit on my lap, baby.” He patted his thighs and you climbed onto him, legs straddling his thighs. “You’re so brave for me.” You sniffled and rested against his chest, head resting against his shoulder, hard cock trapped between you. “Always so brave.”

“Did you really fuck the pillow?”

You felt his chest move as he chuckled, “God, you’re really into that.”

“Can I sit on your cock now?”

“Can you- yes, you can sit on my cock. You can sit on it whenever you want, baby. Belongs to you.”

You lifted yourself onto your knees and took him in your hand so you could align him with your entrance. “Slowly,” he whispered. You looked up at his face as you lowered yourself, watching as his mouth opened and his head fell back against the back of the couch. You pressed yourself against his chest and felt both his arms come around your back to hold you against him. “Just like that. Let me feel you,” he groaned. “No moving for a bit.” You closed your eyes, feeling him fill you. You could get addicted to this.

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ masterlist

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #lee know smut #minho smut #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #x reader

816 notes · View notes

imnotjaesblog · 9 months

Text

Part 1: The Liar

Part 1 of 10

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

Featuring: Dong Si Cheng

Summary: Si Cheng decides he can get everything he wants in this life if he has you. He can be successful, appreciated and most of all accepted in society if you are by his arm. Only when you blow him off does he feel that delusion shatter. In order to keep his dreams and pride unharmed he creates a lie saying he slept with the most unreachable girl on campus.

This results in you fucking every single last one of his idiot friends just to teach him a lesson.

Lying is wrong and you should only say things that are the truth.

Shit gets crazy after Part 1

Warnings: None

Part one has no smut just angst.

MINORS DO NOT READ!!!!

Words: 2K

7:49 pm

Your pencil tapped on your paper as you briefly checked the time. The exam had started an hour ago yet here you were now still stuck on the tenth question. Why wasn’t anything you studied on the exam? You asked yourself checking the clock again. You felt the heat pick up on the back of your neck. Beads of sweat form as you reread the question in your head.

Then you saw the word dinner and remembered in a few minutes you had to meet that boy from last week for dinner.

After meeting him at a frat party and being his beer pong party he whispered to you he’d take to dinner if you both won. It was Friday night, the day he said he’d take you and you were stuck in a classroom taking an exam.

Si Cheng waited outside the restaurant checking his watch. He arrived earlier than you did just so you wouldn’t believe he stood you up. Seeing eight slowly approaching he checked around to see if you were there. When he failed to find you he sat outside the restaurant on his phone.

He figured you’d arrive at eight, possibly a little after.

9:01 pm

You have finished the exam. Place it on your professor's desk and leave it in your car. The restaurant was only a few minutes away from your university the drive was only seven minutes long. When you arrived you saw WinWin sitting on a bench leg bouncing. You sighed debating on whether or not to drive off.

Si Cheng wasn’t the first guy to ask on a date. There have been many guys before Winwin who obsessed over you and your looks. The guys that kissed the ground you walked on. You were used to the Si Cheng types, guys that tried to make you feel like you owed them something because you were attractive. You rolled your eyes at the thought. You stopped your car deciding to let him down easily.

You didn’t need to rehearse the right words to say like a girl in the mirror breaking up with her boyfriend. You would say the same thing you always did, the truth at least part of it.

You were going to tell him it was because of your exam. However, you were also going to tell him you can’t stay out to do anything else since you had class in the morning even though you don’t have class on Saturdays. Walking over to him you noticed his outfit. Dressed in a black button-up and slacks that wrinkled from all the pacing he probably did at some point.

He looked up from his phone shaking his head. He stood up from the bench shoving his phone in his pocket. He walked over to you upset about your lateness. You sighed telling yourself in your head to do this quickly, your show was starting soon.

“Look I’m sorry I’m late, my exam went-“

“Save it. I don’t want to hear some lame excuse. Just tell me the truth,” he said frustratedly. You sighed trying to hide your smile. You shook your head licking your front teeth in bubbling annoyance. You two barely know each other and he’s treating this like some breakup.

“Look my exam went on for longer than I thought, okay? Now if you excuse me I don’t need to explain the rest to you,” you said turning to walk away. Your foot barely reached the pavement before his hand grabbed your elbow. “Wait a minute don’t go. You owe me a date,” he said turning you around to face him causing your purse to slip from your arm and onto the ground.

He bent down to help you but you prevented him from touching anything.

“Uh I don’t owe you anything,” you said pulling away. You took out your hand sanitizer from your purse opened it and rubbed the liquid into your skin. You closed the cap putting it away. Take out your pink lip gloss and place it on your lips. You closed the top as you spoke to Si Cheng.

“And if I remember correctly you offered to take me out. I can say no whenever I want and because you're being a dick about me being late then I’m just going to go,” you said trying to hide how annoyed you felt. There is no reason for you to be wasting energy on this guy who you’ll avoid for the rest of your life. He scoffed this time not chasing after you as you walked away.

He nodded his head seeing you disappear into your car and drive off. “Okay then…then I’ll remember this my way,” he said to himself as he walked over to his car driving off to a lingerie store.

He walked into the store finding a pink pair of panties. He purchased the clothing immediately removing it from the bag once he sat in his car. He pulled your small bottle of perfume out that fell from your purse. He sprayed the black bottle twice on the panties waving them around. He sprayed your perfume in the back seat of his car, as well as his shirt. He undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt, running a couple of fingers through his hair as well.

Once he looked fucked out he drove off back to his apartment that he shared with his friends.

“Heyyy how did it go?” Jaehyun asked the minute he saw Si Cheng walk in. Si Cheng smirked taking off his shoes and placing them near the others. He removed his jacket as well throwing it behind an empty chair. The other boys slowly started to gather around all waiting for Si Cheng response.

All of them had came over waiting for him to come home just to hear the details of the date Si Cheng claims you agreed too. The men in the room weren’t fully convinced you said to him. The boy, like many others had been drooling over you since orientation two years ago. He waited of his moment with you, and especially after discovering who your father is he had to rush in before someone else took his spot.

He sighed still feeling the sting in his chest. You not only rejected him, but embarrassed him and he was upset. However he couldn’t tell his friends. He couldn’t go back to being some loser. You were his one way ticket to the top. He wouldn’t let whatever status you had ruin it for him, even if he had to lie.

“Well I took her to that new Italian spot that just opened up. Not to far from the school,” he said seeing all the boys enter the room. Jaemin lighting up on the couch as he listened in on the story.

“La Villa right?” Johnny asked leaning against the wall. Si Cheng nodded looking his direction. He turned away looking back at the living room. He pulled back a chair sitting down and facing the room. “We spent some time there. We talked about life and her dad’s company. She said she could get me a job,” he said lying straight through his teeth.

Jisung’s eyes widened raising up from beside Haechan, Doyoung doing the same. They both shook their heads. Doyoung speaking up first. “No way. I’ve been trying to intern there for months and you get a job? Unbelievable,” he says falling back in his seat. Haechan chuckles mockingly beside Jisung.

“I’m sorry?” He raises a brow. Everyone turned their heads to him. “So all of sudden Y/n the hottest girl at our school not only agrees to go on a date with you, but also just gives you a job?” He questions a smirk on his lips as he licks his teeth. He shakes his head hands falling with a clap to his knees. “I’m sorry I just find that hard to believe. I mean if Jaehyun didn’t even have a shot what makes you believe you do?” He asked. Si Cheng felt his cheeks get hot. The same anger and embarrassment he felt earlier tonight still boiling inside him. Haechan always knew how to stir his pot.

“I mean let’s be so for real guys. She’s never been with anyone and all of sudden she puts out for him,” he points directly at Si Cheng, the spot light beginning to burn. He chuckled darkly looking back at the boy with the red cheeks. “There’s absolutely no fucking way,” he says causing Jeno to step up.

“He does have a point. No one here has ever even walked her home. The Y/n were all talking about would rather walk home in the dark then let anyone walk her home. I’m sorry Si Cheng I gotta agree with Haechan here,” he says with a sigh.

Most of the boys start to lose their faith. In a moments panic Si Cheng takes out the pink underwear from his pocket. “Not only did we go on a date, we fucked,” he said holding the panties out. The guys came closer rushing to the pink cloth. “No way,” YangYang says brushing his fingers on the cloth.

“Of course the virgins believe you,” said Yuta from the corner. He had been standing there the whole time. “It’s true. It even smells like her,” he said lifting the underwear to Taeyong’s nose. He sniffs the cloth eyes wide. He nods his head furiously. Causing Mark to take a whiff.

“It’s hers, it smells exactly like her perfume,” Mark says handing it to Doyoung. Doyoung takes a whiff humming in satisfaction. “It’s her perfume. Smells like Calculus,” he said closing his eyes picturing you at your seat sitting in front of him during class.

Jaehyun walks over snatching the panties from Doyoung’s hand waking him from his fantasy. He pouts seeing the cloth fly away. Jaehyun brings it to his nose. “Yeah this is definitely her perfume. No way Si Cheng could afford to buy a bottle of this,” he says holding the underwear up. Haechan takes it smelling it as well.

Everyone awaits his reaction. Having no choice but to give in he nods. “Okay okay It’s hers,” he says.

“I told you. We fucked my whole car smells like her,” he said seeing some of the thirsty boys run to his car. Opening the door and taking in the scent of your perfume. They were truly obsessed with you.

“You know this means your like a fucking king?” Mark asked Si Cheng. Si Cheng smirked to himself arms crossing over his chest as he stuffed the panties back in his pocket. Johnny walked over placing an arm around Si Cheng shoulder ruffling his hair. Si Cheng chuckled seeing the boys close his car door running back to the house.

Jisung sat in the same seat he did before. Something still felt so off to him. All of sudden you were interest in someone, and of all people interested in Si Cheng? It just doesn’t seem to make any sense. He frowned chewing on his lips as he watched his friends turn into animals at the very smell of you. All fighting to see who gets to keep your underwear.

He turned away walking into his shared room with Haechan. He closed the door behind him laying on his bed and turning on his phone. He opened Instagram scrolling through different post. Then you showed on his screen. He smiled liking the picture. Even if he didn’t know you very well, he couldn’t deny the obvious you were very beautiful. Like a breath of fresh air.

He wished he was the one to take out you. He sighs smile fading from his lips. You didn’t have to kiss him or even hold his hand. He just wanted to get to know you, take you out and listen to what you had to say. It can’t be easy always being chased around like a piece of meat. A part of him feels bad, for not only hearing what they say about you but not doing anything about it.

Starting to feel the pity swallow him up. He closes his phone placing it on his nightstand. He drifts off to sleep with only you in his mind.

While Jisung drifted off to sleep Si Cheng stood out in the living room drinking with his friends celebrating what he thought would be the start of the best day of his life.

If only he knew the worst was yet to come.

———

You walked down the hill outside your apartment building. Walking past the fountain full of birds chirping. Passing by an older couple sitting on a bench enjoying the warm weather. The sun is out and not a cloud in the sky. The breeze was cool, the warmth only adding comfort. Your dog sniffed around looking for her favorite spot. You held a coffee in your hand and shades concealing your eyes. The perfect day you thought.

You decided to follow in the couple's footsteps and sit on a bench just under a tree. Small bugs fly by buzzing around. A butterfly landing on a pink flower. You smiled pulling out your phone to take a picture. As your camera snapped you saw an incoming call from your closet friend Wendy.

You picked up the call quickly. Wendy never called you this early unless you were meeting for pilates, but your class wasn't until the evening. "Hello?" you answered her call.

"Y/n omg," she said voice full of relief. "Is everything okay?" you asked her holding on tightly to your lease so your dog wouldn't take off. She let out a shaky breath. "No exactly," she said.

"Why? Did you get pregnant?" you asked eyes wide. You were genuinely worried for her, her taste in men was so poor. "Fourtaunley no," she responded with relief. You picked up your dog and placed her on your lap. "What's up?" you asked looking in your small bag for a snack.

"That Si Cheng guy from Jaehyun's party is telling everyone you guys fucked," she said annoyed. You scoffed unbothered, What's Si Cheng to you? Some boy that you'll never have to see again.

"So?" you questioned with a shrug placing a grape in your mouth. You placed your dog on the bench bringing one leg over your knee. You sat back taking in the sunlight. "Who cares? It's not like anyone believes him," you said nonchalantly again used to the behavior of men.

"Doesn't seem like it. He's claiming you did, saying you left your underwear in his backseat as proof," she responded. Your laughter died but you weren't worried. You shrug slipping another green past your lips. "That can be anyone's. Besides, you know he's not my time," you said disgusted. You start to have doubts, did Wendy believe him over you?

"Yeah I know, but a bunch of guys went over to his house. They smelled your perfume all over his car," she said trying her best to make you understand how serious this is. You instead remained calm, this didn't have to become a huge problem when it stems from such a short issue. One phone call to your father and you could have this whole thing taken care of.

"That's impossible. The company from the perfume I own only sells twelve bottles a year. No way he could afford to get his hands on that, it's more than his tuition," you said still unfazed.

"Y/n he told the whole school. Everyone believes him, he's on a fucking high right The boys I practically kiss his feet, and even some of the professors are nicer to him. He's even telling people your father is giving him a job," she said finally getting your attention.

She sighed. "Whether you fucked him or not it's completely getting to his head. We gotta do something about this," she said determined to help you. You thought about it for a moment. Letting your leg swing and your lip pouting helps you think.

He thinks he can lie and get away with it. Use you to get to your family and walk freely while you suffer the consequences of what? Being a woman. That's not fair and you knew you had to do something about it.

"Hello? Y/n are you okay?" Wendy asked.

You smirked a hopeful feeling in your chest. You nodded looking back at the butterfly from before. You watched as it flew away.

"Wendy, can you get me a list of all of Winwin's friends?" you asked but you were telling her. "Why what are you planning on doing?" she asked a hint of mischief in her voice.

"I am gonna fuck every last one of his friends. Teach him lying is bad and then watch him fall apart," you said feeling high off the confidence that flowed through your veins. A part of you is still disappointed in men and angry with their ways.

"I found his friends, I'll send you the list," she said. You heard your phone bing. Checking it you opened notes seeing the list of names.

Park Jisung.

The dork from your anatomy class.

To be continued…

Hope you enjoyed part one of my Easy A series and see you soon for part two!

Tags: @sexygrass @scarfac3 @jakiki94 @90s-belladonna @soobiverse @chazzthecannoli @kyungsooislifeu

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babyhatesreality · 1 year

Note

hi friend!! i love ur work so muuuuch, you have no idea!! i literally check everyday if you post something 😭 i think i'm obsessed with you atp 😭 but it's my birthday today! and i was wondering what baby or the daddies are like during baby's birthday and how they celebrate!! 🎂 it's probably so cute and chaotic and baby doesn't shut up about it for days or maybe daddies get too excited and go waaaay overboard with the planning and decors bc they want the best for baby 🥺 ilysm and i hope you know you truly make my day 🤍

Hi back Nonnie Friend!! Happiest of birthdays, my darling!! Thank you so much for your kind words, they helped me immensely today, they were such a gift. Okay, I'm breaking my own rule here and skipping up in the line as I wanted to get this out on your birthday to give you a gift right back! (To all my other asks, please know you are ALL literally WIPs right now!!) Happy Birthday, Nonnie!!! <3 <3 <3

The Birthday Baby

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!birthday baby

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader's birthday, daddies going nuts (in the best way possible), super hyper excited baby, fluffity fluff fluff fluff.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

"I'm telling you, it's dinosaurs."

"Dinosaurs was LAST week. THIS week it's My Little Pony."

"Okay, yeah, I'll give you My Little Pony this week, but she likes the Disney princesses better than the Ponies."

"Anyone can do Disney princesses at any time, we need to go with what she likes right now. And I'm telling you, it's My Little Pony."

"That's just a phase."

"Well, so were the dinosaurs!"

"She plays with them in the tub constantly, she's always stomping around the place roaring..."

"Oh, is that what she's doing when she does that? I thought that was Lion King."

"Wait...it might be dragons then..."

"No, she wears the dragon wings and the mask when she's a dragon. So I guess you're right. Wait- none of the My Little Ponies roar, do they?"

Bucky flopped back down on their bed with a groan. He couldn't keep up any more. He and Steve had been at it for what felt like hours, trying to figure out the theme for your upcoming birthday party. The trouble was, you bounced so quickly from favorite thing to favorite thing, they couldn't figure out what would make you happiest. They had tried asking you. It had gone about as well as the conversation was currently going. No one was able to make up their minds about anything.

"Buck, it's gotta be perfect," Steve said, running his hands up and down his thighs nervously. It was the only thing keeping him from bolting off the edge of the bed where he was sitting and pacing around the room. "It's the first time she's spending her birthday with us- we need it to be special and exactly what she wants."

Bucky sat up, chewing on his bottom lip as he thought. "Okay, Stevie, maybe we're going at this the wrong way. This may be nuts, but go with me. What if...."

And then he laid out a weird but potentially brilliant solution. And they both breathed a sigh of relief. Then got to work.

***********************************************************

The day before your birthday arrived, and you were running around like crazy, so excited for your party the next day. Papa and Daddy would only tell you that you were going to like everything at the party- they wouldn't give you any more details than that. Which drove you batty in the best way. You were constantly running from room to room, looking for clues, asking them questions, and spinning in circles in pure excitement.

"All my friends gonna be there, right?" you asked Steve for the umpteenth time. He smiled patiently and nodded.

"Everyone's coming, sweetness."

"Even Nicky?"

"Yes, even Director Fury," Bucky jumped in. "And I wouldn't call him Nicky, baby."

"It's my BIRFDAY, Daddy, I get to make da rules!" you said impishly, giggling at the idea of calling the tall, cool guy 'Nicky'. Bucky gave you a devilish smile back before scooping you up and tickling you.

"Yeah, that's not how that works at all," he teased while you screamed with laughter. Finally, when you seemed to wear out slightly, he set you down with a gentle pat on the butt. "Now go play. Papa and I have work to do."

"For my birfday??"

"Can't tell you, it's a surprise," Papa grinned at you. You just squealed in delight, knowing that was code for 'yes', and tore out of the room, cheering.

Steve sighed happily. "Well, she's gonna sleep well tonight," he joked as he listened to you running down the hallway to the playroom. His phone pinged. He pulled it out, then gave a short cheer at the message. "Last thing just arrived," he said triumphantly. "Sam's hauling it to the rec room, and he's going to help us set up after she's gone to bed."

Bucky rubbed his hands together gleefully. "We did it, Stevie, we got it all. Nothing more to get, it's all here. We did it." They both paused in their cheering when they heard your footsteps come pitter-pattering down the hallway again. You peeked in to see if they were still in there, and then gleefully jumped into the room, holding out a piece of paper.

"Lookit, Papa, lookit Daddy!" you said, holding up your artwork. "Lookit what the new crayons that Aunt Shuri sent me do!! The purples are SPARKLY!!" you squealed with joy, shaking the hastily drawn flower picture at them. "They SPARKLE!! Purple sparklies are my new favorite EVER!! I'm gonna go draw more flowers!" you shrieked in one excited breath before hopping out of the room like a bunny.

Steve and Bucky just looked at each other in panic. Steve recovered first, going back to his phone. It only took two minutes, then he sighed in relief again.

"Okay," he said, a touch of weariness in his tone. "Purple sparklies on the way."

Bucky shook his head in wonder. "Wow," he said, hushed, looking at the phone in Steve's hand. "This internet thing...so great," he mused. "I still can't believe it."

"SO helpful, right??" Steve said, nodding vigorously along with his husband's wonder and appreciation of modern technology.

**********************************************************

The next day was one that you would remember forever.

You had excitedly but nervously held onto both your daddies' hands as they took you down to the big Avengers room where you all had your inside parties and holidays and stuff. They were watching you with big (and nervous) smiles on their faces as you entered the room, just the three of you. You stopped in awe at the sight that awaited you.

The room looked like it FAO Schwartz had exploded. There was a little bit of absolutely everything you loved, tucked into every nook and cranny of the room. There was a pin-the-tail-on-the-My-Little-Pony game, an inflatable dragon perfect for someone to bounce on, a dinosaur pinata, a coloring station, a lego station, a Disney princess dress-up costume rack- the list went on and on. Along with pops of colorful streamers and bunches of balloons with lights in them. It was a joyous cacophony of color and imagination. You walked around slowly and softly, your eyes wider than they'd ever seen them before, touching everything reverently as you took it all in. After a lap around the room and seeing a bit of everything that you loved, you turned to them.

"IT'S PERFECT!!!" you screamed joyously, before hurtling yourself into their arms.

The rest of the day was a brilliant blur.

Sam was the first one to arrive, and scooped you up in the biggest hug possible, whispering in your ear that you two would go flying the next time that he babysat and giving you a big kiss on the cheek. Bruce and Natasha arrived next, losing Wanda and Pietro instantly as you grabbed the other littles' hands and pulled them into your Wonderland. Natasha just laughed, seeing how entranced and excited you were.

"You two did it, you nailed it," she praised, playfully slugging Steve on the shoulder. "Although I will say you may have gone just the teensiest bit overboard," she said, an eyebrow arched playfully.

Bucky shrugged as Steve blushed. "I seem to recall a certain couple hiring and flying out Sokovian acrobats to put on a show for the twins' last birthday," Bucky tossed back playfully at her. Bruce chuckled low, putting his arm around his wife.

"He's got us there, love," he said, grinning at her.

Tony, Pepper, and Peter arrived soon after, causing all you littles to shriek with joy and pull Peter into the melee, which he joined happily.

"Wow," Pepper said simply, smiling and trying to contain her giggles at the craziness surrounding her. "You guys really outdid yourselves!" she said heartily. Tony looked around, then sidled right up to her.

"You DO realize that I am going to throw this in your face absolutely every time you accuse ME of going overboard for Pete," he said in his nonchalant tone, gesturing to the fantastical play land. Pepper just rolled her eyes and smiled.

The whole gang was quick to arrive after that. Nick, Maria, Rhodey, Thor and Jane, Darcy, Scott and Hope, Loki, Sylvie, and Prince Loki, Clint, Laura and all their kids, including Kate. Laura came and found you right away, giving you a huge hug- she always gave the best hugs ever.

"Happy Birthday, angel!" she said, squeezing you tight.

"Tank you, Aunt Laura!!" you said, giggling. You latched onto her hand, pulling her to the refreshment table. "Lookit, Papa and Daddy got me a COOKIE CAKE!!"

"Oh wow, that is so great! And so YOU!" she said, teasing and tickling you. You squealed in laughter before the gang called you back to play, and you took off running. Laura looked at the table. The paper dessert plates seemed to be a mix of Frozen, Phineas and Ferb, and purple sparkly ones. She tilted her head and looked up quizzically at Steve and Bucky.

"Internet," they both said, looking very proud of themselves.

"Ah," Laura said simply, nodding with a polite smile.

After a loud and raucous time, after the cookie cake was devoured and all the presents opened and all the games played, everyone went home. Steve and Bucky had gotten clearance to clean up the next day so they could spend this entire day focused on you. As they were getting you ready for bed, they got grateful texts from every caregiver in the Tower- all the littles were worn out from all the fun and had gone down easily.

You were the same- happy but exhausted from all the excitement and activity. "Best birfday ever," you murmured before your "I love you"s, a final squeeze to each of them, and falling asleep, tucked in between the two people who wanted to give you the world- and delivered today.

#daddy stucky #daddy!stucky x little reader #daddy!stucky #daddy stucky x little reader #daddy!steve #daddy!steve rogers #daddy steve #daddy!steve rogers x little #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy steve x little reader #daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy bucky #daddy bucky x little reader

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slutforstabbings-archive · 1 year

Text

Sandwiched

Corey Cunningham x bisexual!fem!Reader x bisexual!Allyson Nelson

A few months after escaping Haddonfield, Allyson starts to have feelings for a barista at her favorite coffee shop (you). She and Corey decide to explore the potential of a relationship with you, at least for one night. My first time posting smut so feedback is extra appreciated!

Warnings - drinking, fingering, vaginal sex, voyuerism, F/F/M threesome. Pretty straightforward

5,581 words

@rebel-blue @nachtmahr666 @wolvesandvampires @cordelium @multifandom--mess @toxicanonymity and @clemkruckinnie (ik we haven't interacted much but i saw you saying you wish there was more Allyson content a while back, so I thought I'd tag you!)

18+, minors dni

Allyson is at the nurse’s desk when her phone rings. She’s not even supposed to have it on her, but since she didn’t get the promotion, she doesn’t give a fuck. Mathis isn’t even here today. She steps away from the desk and answers.

“We need to leave,” Corey’s strained voice says on the other end of the line.

“I can’t right now, I’m at work.”

“Tonight, then. Will you meet me at 9 at the diner off 74? We need to talk about your grandmother. She wants to kill me.”

“What?”

“Look, I can’t take it anymore. It’s time to say goodbye to Haddonfield.” The finality in Corey’s voice scares Allyson.

“Corey, wait!” She hisses.

He doesn’t say anything but the call doesn’t disconnect.

“I can’t leave without making a scene right now. But my lunch is in 30 minutes. I’ll go pack, I already started last night, and then I’ll pick you up or meet you somewhere. Just give me an hour.”

“An hour.” He repeats, his voice sounding even more strained than before.

“Just stay somewhere safe, I’ll go as fast as I can. Please don’t do anything stupid.” Allyson says.

It’s been four months since Allyson clocked out for lunch, got in her car, and drove away from Haddonfield forever. Corey followed her Ford station wagon on his motorcycle, west, south, back east, south again. They stayed on the move for weeks, living off each of their savings, staying in flea bitten motels or sleeping in Allyson’s car.

Corey checked the news obsessively, but never in front of Allyson. Whenever one of them went to the bathroom, when he went into the gas station alone to buy snacks while she pumped the gas, late at night when he couldn’t sleep. Until he was sure Doug and Dr. Mathis weren’t going to be traced back to him. Allyson had been ready to quit driving around for a long time by then, and finally, without telling her why, Corey gave in and they settled somewhere.

They both went back to their previous professions. Allyson found a job in a general practitioner’s office. A doctor she actually likes and respects, a doctor who treats his employees well. Corey wound up at a dealership, doing repairs on American cars, Chrysler, Dodge, Jeep. They got a nice little apartment. They both make way more money than they did in Haddonfield, and the discount Corey gets on cars is insane, so he surprised Allyson with a new car for her birthday.

Neither of them can quite believe how good things are going. That they escaped, left it all behind, and now they’re just… Well, not normal, but they can fool everyone else into thinking they are. There’s a coffee shop that Allyson has become a regular at. It’s not far from the hospital so she stops there sometimes, in the mornings before work, on her lunch break, on her days off when she’s in the neighborhood. Being a regular somewhere helps her feel like she’s actually part of the community, not just a tourist. It makes the facade she and Corey maintain that little bit more convincing.

You’ve been a barista for a year when a girl you’ve never seen before comes in. While you have a few people you know by name, or by their order, most of the customers just sort of blend together. This girl though, she’s so pretty, with dark green eyes and a little button of a nose. You know you would remember if she’d come in before. Almond milk latte and a blueberry muffin. She lets you spell her name wrong on the cup.

“That’s how it should be spelled,” she jokes.

You make a mental note to spell it right if you see her again, and you really hope you do.

It takes two weeks, but on a Thursday morning she comes in again, wearing forest green scrubs that accentuate her green eyes.

“Almond milk latte?” You say instead of hello.

“You remembered!?” She replies in shock.

“Of course,” you say. “A-L-L-Y-S-O-N.” You turn the cup around to show her.

“I’m impressed!” She claps her hands. Your heart flutters in your chest a little.

The next time she comes in, it’s a Saturday afternoon, just as you’re about to leave. Your coworker has already clocked in and is standing at the register, prepared to take the order, but you haven’t clocked out yet, so you ask if you can do one more. She has a man with her this time, and he’s just as gorgeous as she is, with an unruly mop of brown hair, and a broad, athletic build. They’re holding hands. Well, shit, you think.

“Hey Allyson,” you say, smiling widely. A little thing like a boyfriend isn’t going to stop you from being nice to a regular.

“Hey!” She says. She greets you by name even though you’ve already taken your name tag off for the day. You’re not the only one going out of their way to remember things it seems. The man’s name is Corey. Up close you can see his freckles and his dense eyelashes behind his glasses.

“Bummer your girl has a boyfriend,” a coworker says when you go into the back to finally actually clock out.

“Yeah. Ugh,” you sigh. “But did you see him? Be still my bisexual heart.”

Once, when Allyson has been a regular for a couple months, she comes in on your day off. You’re there anyway, feeding the caffeine monkey that lives on your back. It’s dead so you’re leaning on the counter talking to your coworkers as they make your drink.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on that side?” She asks, pointing behind the register.

“Not today, Ally Cat,” you say. The nickname is a huge gamble but to your shock and great joy, she fucking giggles.

She orders her coffee and sits down at a table. You walk by her on the way out and she calls your name.

“Do you wanna sit down? Not to make you hang out at work on your day off, but you were kinda already here.”

You pretend to deliberate, but of course you’re going to stay, at least as long as you can. You pull out the other chair at her tiny table. You get so absorbed talking to her you almost forget you had plans, and another friend is waiting for you. You apologize for not being able to stay longer.

“Well we should just plan to hang out sometime then,” she suggests.

“Yeah? That would be awesome.”

She gives you her number and you text her to give her yours. Then in your car you text the friend you’ll now be late to hang out with. She’ll forgive you when she finds out why.

Over text, you and Allyson decide to go to the mall. She picks you up in the afternoon. She’s all smiles as you get in the car. You knew she was pretty, but in the sunlight coming through the windshield she looks like an angel. You struggle to keep your composure.

As you walk around the mall you’re impressed with how easy she is to talk to, and her dorky sense of humor is genuine and charming. There’s things you’re dying to know but can’t ask. Does she like girls or is she just this flirty with everyone? Is her relationship with Corey monogamous? And what’s Corey’s deal? Every time you’ve seen him he’s been so quiet and reserved, but when he speaks there’s something magnetic about him. And his eyes are so intense, you know he’s got a hell of a story. But you try not to ask too many questions. You don’t want to seem weird.

Neither of you is really shopping, but you always wind up seeing something that catches your eye. You find a top that really speaks to you and, even better, it’s on clearance. The only problem is, it’s the only one left and a size down from what you usually wear. You present it to Allyson.

“You would look so good in that,” she says.

“It’s one size too small,” you say, exaggerating a pout.

“Here,” she says, guiding your hand with the top on the hanger to your chest. She lines the shoulder seams up with the shirt you’re wearing, then smooths the top on the hanger down your front and around your sides, lining the side seams up too. It’s totally innocent, but you feel yourself gushing anyway. It’s the most she’s ever touched you. “I think you should try it on. It would look incredible and it seems like it’ll fit.”

“Okay, you convinced me.”

In the dressing room you get the top on, and technically it does fit. But you feel like if you moved too quickly you could hulk out of it by accident. You try to take it off, but you hear the stitches groaning. Oh no.

You open the fitting room door and she’s standing right there.

“See!” She exclaims, eyes lighting up.

“Yeah,” you smile sheepishly, “It looks great, but there’s a problem.”

“What?”

“It felt like it was gonna tear when I tried to take it off. Can you help me?” You stand back from the door and let her in.

She closes the door, then turns to face you. You look into each other’s eyes for what is probably only a few seconds, but feels much, much longer.

“Raise your arms,” she says without breaking eye contact.

You do as you’re told. She curls her fingers under the hem of the shirt. Her fingers are cold, but her touch would’ve given you goosebumps either way. Slowly, carefully, much more slowly and carefully than she really needs to, she works the top up your stomach and over your breasts. You’re not wearing a bra and you know she notices, but she doesn’t look anywhere other than into your eyes until the shirt comes over your face and you can’t see her anymore. With the shirt almost all the way off, stretched between your arms above your head and still stuck on your shoulders, she instructs you to lean forward. You bend at the waist and she takes the shirt the rest of the way off, pulling it languidly down the length of your arms.

“There you go,” she says with a small smile when you’re finally free.

“Thanks,” you say quietly.

You take a step towards her. Your nipples harden in the cold air, and with the distance between you closed they almost press against her. You both hold your breath. She looks down at your tits, then the rest of the way to the floor.

“Hand me the hanger?” She says.

You hand her the hanger, then pull the shirt you came with back on. She rehangs the top she’s holding and deposits it on the reject rack as you exit the store. You feel awkward walking back through the mall, cheeks burning, heart racing. What was that? You wonder. Allyson is quiet. Without talking about it, you make your way out of the mall and back to her car.

“I had fun,” she says, breaking the tension as she starts the engine.

“Me too,” you smile at her, still feeling a little unsure of what just happened.

“We should hang out again sometime. With Corey too.”

“I’d love that,” you reply.

When Allyson gets home Corey is sprawled on the couch watching TV.

“How was the mall?” he asks, sitting up and making room for her.

“It was great,” she says, plopping down next to him. He wraps his arm around her shoulders and squeezes her against him. “I really like her.”

“Do you… like her?”

Allyson has had feelings for girls since she was a young teenager, but she hadn’t felt able to articulate it before she got out of Haddonfield. Corey brought things out in Allyson, she felt she could tell him anything, but there were things she couldn’t tell even herself until she escaped the tomb her hometown had become. One night, under the scratchy blanket at a Super 8, unsure if Corey was even still awake, Allyson had whispered the word for the first time. Corey accepted it easily. After all, hadn’t he stirred for men at times? For his AP Physics teacher, and then for Roger Allen, and then for Michael Myers? They had never discussed what Allyson’s confession might mean for the relationship.

“Yes,” Allyson says quietly. She does like you.

Corey is loath to share Allyson with someone. He can’t help but feel like she would just wind up preferring them to him, leaving him all alone. But he’s seen you and Allyson interact. He’s recognized the looks she gives you. And in the moments he’s been witness to it, while his jealousy did rage, it was far outweighed by a feeling of warmth. How radiant Allyson is when she’s happy. How lucky he is that she ever made those faces at him, and that she continues to do so, even as he watches her infatuation with you deepen.

And Corey is attracted to you too. The first time he saw you he understood why Allyson was always talking about this mythical barista that remembered her order and how to spell her name.The customer service was not what Allyson was excited about.The idea of you and Allyson together instantly makes his cock rock hard under his sweatpants.

Allyson sees it happen, and reaches out to rest her hand on the imprint in the fabric. “What’s this for?” she asks playfully.

“For you liking her,” Corey says reluctantly.

“What was that?” She teases, squeezing gently.

“You heard me,” he growls, pressing himself into her hand.

“No, I think you should repeat yourself.” She laughs and takes her hand away.

Corey catches Allyson’s wrist in his huge hand. “You. Know. What I said.” He brings her hand to his mouth and kisses her palm. He gently bites each of her fingers. Then he places her hand back on his cock.

“I think she likes me. And I think she’s into you too,” Allyson says, slowly stroking Corey through his pants.

“Me?” He moans. “Wh-what makes you think that?”

“She asked me about you a lot. And she told me when she makes your drink she puts an extra half pump of syrup in it for free.” Allyson slides her hand under Corey’s waistband to grip him directly, and

with that there is no more talking.

In the morning Corey and Allyson do their usual routine.She curls her hair and does her makeup while he leans in the doorway and watches.

“I think I'm getting coffee on my lunch break,” she says, winding a strand of hair around her curling iron.”What if I invite her to get dinner with us? Somewhere nice.”

“Like a date?” Corey asks.

“Yeah.” Allyson looks at him in the mirror and grabs another lock of hair to curl. “Like all three of us on a date.”

“I’m not convinced she’s interested in me,” he says.

“Well, that’s what dates are for. To see if you’re interested in somebody.”

Corey can’t argue with that. He pulls out his phone and searches for nice restaurants in the area while Allyson dabs concealer under her eyes.

“What do your evenings look like next week?” Allyson asks. At this point she doesn’t bother ordering and you don’t bother telling her her total. The coffee transaction happens in the background of your conversation.

“I think I’m wide open,” you tell her. Your sharpie is dry so you throw it away and dig a pack of new markers out from under the register.

“‘Do you want to get dinner with me and Corey one night?”

“Absolutely!” You say, completely failing to hide your excitement.Your hand shakes and you accidentally make a stray line on her cup. You turn it into a star to cover your mistake “Where were you thinking?”

“Would it be crazy if we went somewhere kinda… Upscale?” Allyson wiggles her eyebrows.”I heard about this place called The Frontier? Have you ever been?”

“You really meant upscale!” You laugh. “I’ve only been once, years ago.That would be really fun.”

The two of you agree on Wednesday, hoping there will still be reservations left in the middle of the week, then she leaves with her coffee. Out in the parking lot, she sees the star next to her name and feels giddy.

Holy shit. The fucking Frontier. That has to mean it’s a date, right? You think to yourself.

“The Frontier!” One of your coworkers says next to you, as if hearing your thoughts. “She’s so DTF.”

“It’s just dinner.” You say, waving your hand dismissively. But God do you hope it’s not just dinner.

As you get ready for your night with Corey and Allyson it’s still not clear to you what her intentions were in inviting you. You think about the moment you had with Allyson in the dressing room and hear your coworker’s voice. She’s so DTF. But Corey will be there. She wouldn’t bring him if she was down to fuck, would she? Unless she wants you to fuck Corey? You would fuck Corey happily. As excited as you are to see her alone, you always find yourself hoping Corey will be with her so you can look at him. So you can be reminded of the way his giant hands dwarf his coffee cup, and how, on the rare occasions you see him smile, it always starts with a smirk before spreading across his whole face.But it just seems too good to be true, that either of them would want to date or have sex with you, let alone both of them. You’re probably just reading too much into it.

Whatever. You dress like it’s a date, and if it isn’t one, there’s nothing wrong with looking hot at a fancy restaurant with some friends. You stand in front of your bathroom mirror and apply the finishing touches. Spritz of perfume, dainty gold necklace to accentuate your collar bones, making sure the front of your hair is just so. Then you go get your nice coat out of the closet and get in your car.

On the drive over, your heart races. You’re nervous, but it’s kind of thrilling. The feeling intensifies as you get closer to the restaurant. You turn the AC up full blast and crank the volume on your radio, trying to ground yourself. The Frontier has valet parking but you’re already anticipating the price of the evening, so you park a couple blocks away and walk, despite your nice shoes not being the most comfortable. As you approach the door you see Corey and Allyson standing on the sidewalk.

They both look so fucking hot, it’s completely unfair. Allyson has a heavy wool coat on, but it’s unbuttoned and underneath it you can see she’s wearing a dress that hugs her as tightly as a second skin from her bust to her hips before flaring out. Below the hem of the dress, her legs are toned and smooth all the way down to her feet inside her pointy, low-heeled shoes. Corey wears a leather jacket over a button down shirt with the top three buttons undone. The little bit of his chest you can see in the gap is so unholy, you feel a pang between your legs.

Corey sees you approaching first and gives you his little smirk. He points you out to Allyson, who looks up from her phone. She beams at you, and you grin back at both of them.

“Hey, I was just about to text you! You look great!” She exclaims, holding her arms open for a hug. You’re extremely tempted to put your arms inside her coat as it hangs away from her body, but that seems weirdly intimate, so you wrap your arms around the scratchy wool instead.

“So do you,” you say. “You both do.” You think Corey’s face seems to turn a little red at the comment, but he doesn’t react otherwise.

Allyson leads the way to the host stand. The Wednesday reservation plan worked and the three of you get sat immediately. The hostess leads you to a round table near the back of the restaurant. It’s dark in the way of fancy restaurants, with candles on the table and overhead lights that don’t do much of anything. It’s busy and most of the tables around you are full, but when you sit down it feels intimate and cozy, like the three of you are the only people there.

“Bottle of wine?” Allyson asks

“Sure,” you reply.

“White or red?”

“Whatever you want.”

Your server comes to the table and pours everyone water from a crystal carafe. Allyson orders a bottle of white wine. You look at the menu and try not to get overwhelmed. It’s an “American” restaurant but all the dishes have been “elevated” beyond recognition.

“Does this menu make any sense to either of you?” You ask

“No,” Corey says, shaking his head.

“Not at all,” Allyson adds.

All three of you laugh, and you relax a little, releasing tension you didn’t realize you were holding. They seem more at ease too.

Through the whole meal, the air between you and Allyson feels charged. The flirty banter you established at the coffee shop and practiced at the mall blossoming in the romantic setting. It’s almost painful how far away from her the round table keeps you. You try to find excuses to brush your fingertips against hers across the table. She’s so DTF. You want her as much as it feels like she wants you, but you’re not so wrapped up in her that you forget about Corey. You can’t keep yourself from looking in his direction, watching him as he watches you and Allyson. He’s the most talkative you’ve ever seen him, and for the first time you detect an accent to his voice. You can’t get a read on his vibe. He must be okay with you and Allyson, but is he interested in participating? You cross your fingers under the table in hopes that he is.

After dessert you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Allyson turns to Corey and puts her hand on his on the table.

“What do you think?” She asks.

“I like her,” he says.

“Do you like her enough to invite her to come home with us?”

Corey chews his lip. The server comes by and deposits the check on the table. Allyson pays.

“Are you sure she’s not just interested in you?” He asks when they’re alone at the table again.

“Corey, are you blind? She’s been making eyes at you more than me! I’m sure she’s interested in both of us.”

He looks away from her and bounces his leg for a second. Then he turns back to her. “Okay, let’s do it.”

You return from the bathroom to the table cleared. Corey and Allyson stand as you approach and start putting their coats on.

“We already paid,” Allyson says.

“You did? You didn’t have to do that,” you say, surprised.

“We wanted to,” she tells you simply.

“Thank you so much. I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she reassures you. “Would you like to come back to our place?” She asks as you exit the restaurant.

Your heart flutters and between your legs pulses. Yes, yes, one million times yes. “Sure,” you say, trying to play it cool.

Corey goes to get their car from the valet.

“You can ride with us if you want. And we’ll bring you back to your car later.”

“Okay. Sounds good to me.”

The valet pulls the car to the front of the restaurant. Corey hands him cash, then gets in the driver’s seat and closes his door.

“Why don’t you sit in the front with Corey?” Allyson suggests.

You open the front passenger door and Corey smiles at you. You smile back as you slide into the car. Shoegaze music comes softly through the speakers. As Corey pulls out of the valet lane, Allyson leans forward behind you. She reaches over the back of your seat to put a hand on your shoulder. She caresses the side of your neck with her slender fingers. Then Corey reaches over to put a wide, freckled hand on your thigh, finally confirming he wants you too.

“Is this okay?” Allyson asks, her voice right behind your ear.

“Yeah,” you say, voice breathy. Holy shit, you think. Just having their hands on you like this is extremely erotic. Your heart pounds, thinking about all the ways they could gang up on you. Allyson’s hand slides up into your hair to massage your scalp with her short nails. You work hard to control your breathing, but as Corey starts to slide his hand up and down your thigh, you know they can hear what they’re doing to you.

Mercifully, the ride to their place is short. They live on the second floor and Corey takes the lead up the stairs. You follow him. From below you on the stairs, Allyson reaches out for your hand and you lace your fingers with hers for a few seconds. Inside their apartment you shrug your coat off and Allyson hangs it in the front closet with hers and Corey’s. You’re still so aroused from the car ride, but you’re nervous too. You’ve never had a threesome before but even with all your hoping tonight would lead to one, you don’t know what to expect. Your hands shake a little as you sit on the couch.

Allyson sits next to you, and Corey opts for an armchair to the side, resuming his role as watcher. You sit there awkwardly for a minute, with your knee touching Allyson’s, trying to gather the courage to make the move. Sensing your hesitation, she reaches out and tucks a stray hair behind your ear.You look at her and she smiles and you find the strength to lean in and kiss her.

If the air in the restaurant had crackled with the electricity between the two of you, the kiss is the bright flash and harsh sting of a static shock. A tiny, momentary explosion that only releases the tension for a split second. The more you kiss her, the more you need to kiss her, and the more she kisses you back. It’s messy and dizzying and so much fun. She scoots closer to you, then closer still, until you’re pressed against each other hard. Without speaking, you put your arms up over your head. She giggles and pulls your top off of you between kisses, much less carefully than in the dressing room.

Allyson reaches behind her own back and pulls the zipper on her dress down halfway. Your hands follow hers and you unzip her completely. She removes her arms from her sleeves and the top of the dress falls to her lap, then she stands halfway up so the dress drops to the floor, kissing you all the while. She sits with her back against the arm of the couch and spreads her legs, inviting you between them. You sit with one of her legs behind you and one in your lap. You rub your hand up and down the leg in your lap, enjoying her smooth skin and the toned muscle of her slender thigh. You hear Corey unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.Your breathing quickens.

You move your hand from Allyson’s leg to her tit. It’s a perfect, perky handful. You squeeze it gently and she moans into your mouth. Her hand comes over yours and she makes you squeeze harder. Your clit throbs with arousal. Keeping her hand on yours, Allyson guides you down from her chest to the waistband of her panties. You slip your hand under the elastic. She’s completely soaked. You slide your fingers up and down her slit before slipping between her labia to find the hard bud of her clit, rubbing a light circle around it when you do. Allyson throws her head back and whines. You kiss down her gracefully arched neck.

Corey groans softly. You turn your head to look at him. He’s slouched in the armchair, face flushed bright red and eyes almost black. His pants are pulled down just enough for you to see his hard, pink cock and dense reddish pubes. He’s undone another button on his shirt and he has one hand inside the opening. Allyson follows your gaze to Corey and he holds you both in his intense stare while you swirl your fingers slowly around the bundle of nerves between her legs.

Allyson makes the prettiest sounds as she starts getting closer, and you break eye contact with Corey to watch her face as she scrunches up her button nose in pleasure. She pulls you in for a kiss and as you kiss her you feel weight on the couch behind you. You expect to feel Corey’s hands on you, but he keeps them to himself as you pick up the pace of your fingers against Allyson’s clit. She reaches up to put her hand on your face as she climaxes, rocking her hips hard, pressing desperately against your hand. You work her all the way through it, feeling her twitch against you as the aftershocks come.

Finally you slip your hand out of her panties, slippery and shiny. She points over your shoulder and you turn toward Corey. He puts the fingers you used on Allyson in his mouth and sucks them clean, one by one. Then he pulls you in for a kiss, letting you taste her on his lips. Allyson shifts a little to make room for you, then pulls you against her. Your head rests on her chest and she lightly sets her chin on your crown. Corey tugs at the waistband of the bottoms you never removed. You bridge your hips off the couch and he pulls your underwear down at the same time. Then he drops his own pants and underwear. He’s already taken his shirt off and rolled a condom onto his cock, which twitches as he takes in the sight of you and Allyson laying together below him.

He kisses Allyson above you, then lowers himself to kiss you again. He laps against your lips with a hot tongue and you let him into your mouth. His hands knead your thighs while Allyson’s cup your tits. You’re so wet you feel like you must be dripping. Corey uses his grip on your thighs to push them towards your chest, opening you up, then lays his cock directly between your lips. You shudder in Allyson’s arms. She rolls one of your nipples delicately between her fingers.

Corey slides the length of his shaft against you, back and forth, top to bottom. You whimper and thrust your hips up every time the swollen head of his dick brushes your clit or catches just a little on your entrance until finally he slips it inside you. Your breath catches and you make a squeaking sound. They both giggle.

“That was so cute,” Allyson whispers in your ear just as Corey sinks the rest of his length into you.

You can’t believe you’re sandwiched between two of the hottest people you’ve ever seen. It exceeds your wildest dreams. As Corey thrusts in and out of you, Allyson runs her hands all over your body. Playing with your tits, dragging her fingertips up and down your sides, working her way down. She wedges a hand between you and Corey and starts to rub your clit. Your mind goes blank of every thought except for how good this feels. Some distant part of you knows you’re panting and moaning so loud the neighbors can probably hear you, but you don’t give a shit, and Corey and Allyson only encourage you.

“Say ‘fuck me, Corey,’” Allyson tells you, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “It drives him crazy.”

“Fuck me, Corey,” you plead. “Oh Corey, fuck me!”

It does drive him crazy, every time you repeat it he increases the speed and force of his thrusts, pounding you so hard you’d be worried about Allyson underneath you if she wasn’t having so much fun getting you to egg him on.

Detecting the change in your breathing indicating your impending orgasm, Allyson puts her lips to your ear again. “Tell him you’re gonna cum.”

“I’m gonna cum!” you wail. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, Corey, I’m… I’m…”

Your orgasm hits you like a truck as Allyson furiously rubs your clit and Corey slams into you. The way you clench around him pulls him over the edge with you and he groans deeply as he pushes into you one last time before stilling. The three of you pant, spent, for several minutes.

They don’t drive you back to your car. Instead they lead you to their bedroom. Corey lays in the middle of the bed and you and Allyson snuggle into his sides, holding hands across his toned stomach. None of you knows what the events of the evening mean. But you can worry about that, and your car, in the morning. Right now you just want to drift off to sleep in heaven.

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader #allyson nelson #allyson nelson x reader #corey cunningham x reader x allyson nelson #corey cunningham smut #bisexual!allyson nelson #halloween ends #mine #smut

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deanmonlover · 2 years

Text

I wish I was special

a/n: so I had to expand this idea that I had of corey and reader slow dancing to "creep" by radiohead. someone hold this boy 🥺🖤 hope you enjoy!

warnings: angst

It was just another Saturday night in Haddonfield, the radio playing softly in the background as you folded laundry waiting on your boyfriend to get off work. Corey had recently been given more cars to work on, leading him to stay later and later at work. You understood that he had to, Ronald had gotten him that job and he did so good that you were so proud of him. Truly proud of how far he had come. You knew everyday life of being him wasn't easy, the heavy weight of the world on his shoulders more than any sane person could take at times.

It was getting later in the evening around 9:00 at night when you heard a thump, thump, thump at the door. You finished folding a pair of Corey's coveralls and laid them to the side before getting up to check the door.

The notorious boogeyman was back on the prowl according to various local news outlets. It was all anyone talked about really around this place. Everyone was obsessed, consumed practically by the shape that lingered in the night. Corey hadn't texted you yet but he had probably just finished up and headed straight to your place without time to send you a text so nothing struck you as odd.

"Coming!" You announced, looking over at the open window to see Corey's motorcycle parked outside in its usual spot. It made you jot a little faster to open the door and when you did, you were met with the man you loved looking like he had just had the worst day of his life though you knew it wasn't this one but it sure came close.

"Can you hold me?" He managed to get out, stepping out of the cold into the light of the living room where it illuminated the bright red scratches and bruises now forming on his uppercheek and forehead.

His voice didn't even sound like his own, it sounded so defeated. You nodded, pulling him into your arms gently trying not to freak out over the minor injuries splayed across his forehead.

The music still playing softly in the background as you led him over to the couch to assess the damage both physically and mentally on the curly headed male's race.

♪ When you were here before

Couldn't look you in the eye ♪

"T-They uh they jumped me." He hung his head low, like a beaten dog. The usual smile he had on his face whenever he greeted had vanished. Immediately the culprits who did this popped into your head on cue. "Terry. It was Terry wasn't it?" You questioned, anger taking over your entire being at the thought of that band geek harassing the sweetest person known to man. "I'm going to beat the shit out of them if I see him out." If you could just get your hands around that bastard's neck.

♪ You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather

In a beautiful world ♪

Corey simply nodded slowly, his entire body hurt but it was more so his entire being hurt. He was so tired of everything here except you. You were the only redeeming part about this shit town. You were the light at the end of the tunnel, he just wanted to burn it all down.

♪ I wish I was special

You're so fuckin' special ♪

You sighed softly, trying to keep back your own tears. It hurt seeing your whole world hurt like this. It killed you inside to know they couldn't see what you saw in Corey. What you saw was someone so special, someone so beautiful, a person too good for this world. He never deserved any of this. They just used him as their punching bag. A scapegoat to abuse time and time again.

♪ But I'm a creep

I'm a weirdo

What the hell am I doin' here?

I don't belong here ♪

Taking his hand in your own, you urged him to stand up and circled your arms around his waist beginning to slowly sway to the music. Corey felt his entire self just give as he buried his face into the crook of your neck taking in your scent. He took a deep breath as if he was trying to drown himself in you. To escape the outside world, to create a world where it was just the two of you. That would be his idea of a perfect world. A muffled sob broke through the otherwise silence as you held him tighter as if he would disappear if you let go.

♪ `So fuckin' special

I wish I was special ♪

"You're so special to me, you do belong here." You whispered, singing lightly in his ear as you placed a kiss to the top of his head. Burying your face in his curls with glistening tears of your own silently falling down your face. It was as though someone had requested this song specifically for this moment. You shared his hurt.

As the two of you slow danced, the song slowly faded out into the background. Corey halted your movements momentarily to hold your face with his good hand, the other bandaged from a previous accident that had happened the other day involving those idiotic teenagers.

"I love you, y/n. I mean I really do, you’re just a little cheesy." He murmured with a small smile breaking through, he tried for you. "Okay but talk about perfect timing." You nodded over to the little old school radio perched on the coffee table. "Remind me to request this song for our wedding." You jested, earning a chuckle of approval from him.

"Duly noted, my love." He held your face in his hands, pressing his lips against your own drinking you in. If you thought he was special that was all he needed to know.

#corey cunningham #corey cunningham x reader

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

Text

Not One of Many - Chapter Nineteen.

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,320

Warnings - 18+ content, adult audience only. Minors DNI!

“She fuckin’ did what?”

Of course, Beth did not expect her boyfriend to react in any other way to being told that his ex had followed them there, attempting to gain entrance to the party.

“She made quite the scene before security lead her away and told her if she continued to cause a ruckus, the police would be called,” Kinga confirmed, Alfie’s eyebrows continuing to rise.

“She’s off her bleedin’ rocker, the bandy mare!” he further exclaimed, shaking his head, Dennis nonplussed until he was brought up to speed.

“Bloody hell,” he began, eyes widening behind his thick framed glasses. “My wife would have thrown furniture at her, should she have been present to witness the glass incident.”

“Yeah, she said a table would have been flung,” Beth confirmed, everyone chuckling.

“Absolutely shocking. Well, let’s hope she doesn’t continue with these wild antics. The girl appears to be a little obsessive.”

Alfie made a knowing face. “Yes, that’s the polite way of putting it, Dennis. If I have any more of it, she’ll have a restraining order put on her. No messin’ around. I told her last night, she don’t come anywhere near Beth, and I fuckin’ meant it.”

“Jealousy is a stirrer of the emotions for sure,” Oliver commented.

“You ain’t kiddin’, mate.” Alfie confirmed, shaking his head. He just couldn’t believe she’d followed them, meaning that of course, she must have been watching the house for some time, to see their movements, waiting until they went out.

They had a wonderful time at the party, but on the drive home Alfie would have been lying if he said he hadn’t had one eye on the rear-view mirror for the duration of the journey, looking to see if they were being followed.

“Can she even drive, or is this following being done through taxis?” Beth asked, looking in the wing mirror of the Range Rover, seeing the car that had been behind them pull off to the right at the junction, nothing else behind them for now.

“Yeah, she can. She didn’t have a car when she was with me, but all she had to do was hawk a Chanel bag and boom, there’s her cash for a vehicle sorted. I think we’re good, though. It seems like she only wants to make a scene with us when she’s got an audience, or she would have tried earlier when we took Cyril out, if it was just us who she wanted to scream at. But nah, nutty fuckin’ cow wants attention, wants as many people to know how I apparently did her wrong,” he fumed lightly, pressing the fob to open his front gates and driving through.

“Here’s hoping she gets bored eventually.”

Alfie agreed, but inside, he didn’t bank on it. Neither did Beth, if she was honest.

A few days passed, Beth spending a bit of time at her flat working hard on her articles, arriving home one evening after a dinner meeting with a new magazine connection wishing to bring her into the fold on a freelance basis, a little tired but ready to do more tapping away upon her laptop.

She was crossing through from her kitchen back to the lounge when she heard a furious knocking at the door, checking the time. 10:59pm. Weird.

“Who is it?” she called. No one replied. Although she had a chain on the front door, she certainly didn’t have a peep hole, so wasn’t about to open it so late to check the situation out. Moving to her lounge, she switched off the light and scooted around her desk, opening the curtain a fraction at the bay window. No one there.

Taking a seat again, she began to tap, getting a few brilliant little anecdotes she’d had while filling the washing machine in the kitchen out of her brain and onto her Word document when once again, a thumping upon the front door disturbed her. Getting up, she went back into the hallway, listening through the door, not able to hear a thing.

Being a woman of maturity and rationality, she didn’t immediately put two and two together, but on her way back into the lounge for the second time, the penny dropped.

“For heaven’s sake.” She sighed in exasperation, wondering to herself how a thirty-one-year-old woman could lower herself to such behaviour. At first, she didn’t find it perturbing, until taking a moment to think about it.

Talia had no idea where she lived, meaning she must have been following her since she last left Alfie’s home two days previously. It gave her a little shudder, knowing that her movements had been watched. If the most she was going to do was play a game of knock door run, though, Beth would be loathed to let the actions usually reserved for children get the better of her.

She’d make a point of mentioning it to Alfie, though, of course.

For that moment, she chose to get back to her work, brewing herself a pot of coffee and returning to her desk, becoming lost in the stories of the three women she had interviewed for her article and the harrowing long term scars they’d been left with after their botched surgeries. The first still made her shudder, a woman by the name of Cara Rose who had suffered an infection so bad from her unregulated lip fillers, she’d almost lost them, the painful and costly reconstructive surgery process meaning a tendon taken from her wrist had been grafted into the remaining healthy tissue of her top lip so she actually had one at all.

Her research had definitely given her a little pause for thought over her own body hang ups, decreeing that she could live with the fact that she’d considered fillers herself for her lips, and often toyed with the idea of rhinoplasty to thin and refine her nose a little.

“Yes, you’re good with a bit of chub on the honk and using a plumping lip stain.” She told her reflection, turning to view herself in the gilt mirror sitting atop her small sideboard.

She called it a night at 2am, up again at 8:30am to rush down to Romero’s and meet Kinga for breakfast, filling her in on her suspicions over her late-night door thumper.

“Well!” she began, her mouth dropping open, floundering wordlessly before her lips upturned and she began to chuckle. “If she assumes that kind of carry on to be menacing in any way then I’m afraid she’s missed the mark!”

“This is exactly what I was thinking,” Beth revealed, pausing to give the waiter her order of eggs Florentine and a cappuccino. “But then you see, it does mean that slightly more sinisterly, she’s been following me, tracking my movements to even know where I live in the first place, since she had no clue while I was staying at Alfie’s to research the article. I definitely didn’t reveal such. In fact, I don’t think any of them knew the area I lived, other than Mimi, who certainly wouldn’t have told her.”

Kinga scoffed, her eyes wide. “She barely even acknowledged your existence while you were there from what you revealed to me about her attitude, so no, it isn’t like you could have casually dropped it into conversation with her when you had virtually nothing in way of that. What, do you think she followed you back from Alfie’s?”

Her nod confirmed the suspicion. “I do, yes. I mean she must have, which means she’s spending her time sitting around somewhere watching our comings and goings from his house. We had proof of that already in her turning up out of the blue at the ELLE party.”

“Does the woman have nothing better to do?” Kinga just couldn’t believe it, why someone would make the kind of time Talia was seemingly doing to partake in such fruitless, ridiculous endeavours. “She truly has little self-respect, to be doing this... I don’t want to label it stalking, but I suppose that is the correct term.”

Something cold and spiny manoeuvred through Beth’s stomach at hearing the term. Stalker. She’d not equated Talia’s actions to that prior to Kinga’s use of the word, but she was right. It was what she was doing. Putting it to the back of her mind, though, she enjoyed her breakfast date before heading home again, working more on her articles until she was out the door once more, heading across town in an Uber to meet with the third woman she was profiling for her article, the lovely Jessica Hughes, a victim of a botched breast enhancement.

“I mean, they look okay now under clothes, but when I take my top off, I just don’t feel confident. The amount of nipple realignments I’ve had to have, and then uplifts because the skin has stretched so much from the weight of the original implants, which my present doctor was horrified over, them being much too large for me, so he said. I went from an A to a double F cup. I’m now a D.”

Beth’s heart went out to her, that the young woman before her had undergone the surgery to gain a little more body confidence in the first place, only now to be left with none in the wake of her decision, and multiple surgeries to correct it. “So, the scars are causing you even more body confidence issues at present?” She tentatively asked, softly omitting a little hum of sympathy and quickly passing over a napkin when her interviewee’s tears began to trickle.

“Yes, because I’m butchered, and I have no one to blame but myself.”

Beth tutted softly, cocking her head to the side slightly. “I should think the original botched procedure more lies with the surgeon than your choice.” she stated, Jessica nodding, smiling when Beth let her professional veneer slide a little more by reaching to stroke her hand. She couldn’t not. It was a heartbreaking story, for her to now feel such a way about her own body. Lamentably, it was the gamble people had to partake in when seeking surgical enhancement; most of the time, the procedures yielded favourable results, but when problems did arise, they were often tricky to overcome.

“I do hope that my story means other women will think twice, though, and always go to a reputable surgeon for their surgeries. I think the pictures that will accompany the article alone should act as a cautionary tale.” Those pictures were emailed to her later in the afternoon while she was sitting in the kitchen at Alfie’s working away, Beth gasping in horror at the state of her breasts. Big, dark scars ran along the undersides of both, then leading down from each nipple, nipples that were no longer with a natural, rounded areola, but also darkened from scarring where the better surgeon had punctiliously attempted to place them back in an effort to make them look in some semblance to how nipples should.

“Jesus flamin’ Christ!” Alfie exclaimed, leaning over her shoulder. “Dodgy boob job girl, I take it?”

“Yes, that’s Jessica,” she confirmed, reaching her arms up and back to wrap around his neck, receiving a kiss to her cheek.

“Poor bird, that looks a right bloody state now. And to think, she had them done to make herself feel good, and she ends up looking like that. Bloody surgeon wants his hands chopping off! Don’t you ever get any ideas about yours though, ay. They’re perfect.”

She looked down at her vest top covered chest, grabbing her boobs and giving them a little shake. “I’m content with what I have.”

“Good, because they’re gorgeous.” Leaning over her more, he pulled her top down and blew a raspberry against her cleavage, his beard tickling, Beth laughing softly. “Mims had hers done. They look lovely but they never felt quite right. I kept that to myself, though.”

“Yeah, she told me she’d had an augmentation.”

“Speaking of my least troublesome ex, I almost forgot, she called earlier to see how I was, said she’d tried ringing you an’ all, wanted to see if you were free this Saturday to go riding.”

Beth wasn’t in the habit of checking her phone while out and about, so pulled it out to take a look. There indeed was the missed call from Mimi. She’d get back to her, but with the mention of ex-girlfriends, chose that moment to reveal her little door knocking incident from the night before to her boyfriend.

His expression darkened a flicker as she detailed it, Alfie looking perplexed. “If she carries on with this malarkey, she’ll have a fuckin’ restraining order slapped upon her. Nah, no messin’. I ain’t tolerating that bullshit from her. I dunno what she thinks she’s achieving either.”

Beth sighed, saving her work and getting up to hug him. “She’s just trying her best to be a pain in the arse. Speaking of arses, I’m horny. How’d you fancy being a pleasure in mine for a bit.”

One second. That’s all it took to be thrown over his shoulder and carried up to bed. Pleasure was exactly what she received, too, but very much on Alfie’s terms. It began with a very intricate game of rope play after he’d spent adequate time delighting her with his fingers and mouth, tying a series of intricate bindings at her ankles, each leg spread and tied to the bottom corners of the bed. Sitting her up, he then bound her an elbow harness tie, her arms behind her back, the rope crossed over her chest and under her breasts.

That led them to the point Beth felt the fires of release licking her insides, bound tight and helpless, Alfie’s well lubed cock slowly slipping back and forth out of her narrow passage, two fingers within her cunt circling at her sweet spots, and a wand vibrator held on her clit. Her toys from home now lived there, in the box under the bed specifically reserved for all items of a sexually titillating nature.

He watched her ascending, her back arching from the bed as she whimpered, the lock of her inner muscles around his fingers telling him she was close, changing the setting on the wand to pulse, edging her, her release torridly swelling, then ebbing. She flexed at him uncontrollably, her inner walls hot and slick, his cock twitching as he rutted and pulled back again, his heart hammering at the pure sinful carnality.

She was reeling, the hum of energy coursing and building without release, her clit bobbing against the wand, Alfie removing it for a few seconds to allow her to cool down, returning it, the glimmers beginning to skitter once more. He arrowed a little deeper within her, his groan gut-wrenching as he felt the head of his cock pulse within the tight constriction, fighting his own urges to chase the release he held back from, slowing, waiting until it abated before he speared her again.

He had her mewling softly, clenching on him again as her hips shuddered, little bubbles of pleasure effervescing up her spine as her muscles flexed against her bindings, the stretch of the nylon audible, scintillating, the rope marking her pale flesh as she continued to struggle in her constriction, electric tingles dancing over her body in response to the tightness of the bindings. Once again, her release was edged, Alfie giving her less time to cool off before doing it again, and again, and again... and again.

She was pushed to the very limit of what her body could handle, her breathing rapid, her eyelids fluttering, almost completely lost to the moment. Especially when slipped his fingers from within her, feeding them into her mouth and clutching her jaw in his big hand, before moving his grasp to her neck, tightening, constricting the blood flow, his cock beginning to fuck her with rapid finesse.

He kept on edging her, tightening and releasing the pressure at her neck, watching her movements very carefully, knowing he had to look after her through everything he was inflicting upon her. He knew from experience there was a fine line between what could and couldn’t be tolerated.

“What’s your name?” he asked, slowing a little, releasing her neck.

“Beth.”

“What’s your safe word?”

“Scarlet.”

“Good, girl. You’re doing so well.” He leaned to kiss her, glad that she was still mentally capable of continuing. If she couldn’t answer basic questions, that was the time to stop, regardless of if she had uttered her safe word or not to him. Her head was spinning, but not enough to need a break or cease, Beth moaning softly as he began building her up again, those soft noises gathering volume the further her body rocketed towards the light, her thighs trembling madly as once again, he edged her, holding her right there on the precipice, the coil in her rocking back and forth over the edge of nirvana.

He took her to the very epicentre of sexual paradise, before at last, her golden surge of light finally broke his horizon as he let her have what she’d ached for, her orgasm shining through her, his hips staccato as his voice broke on a harsh grunt, filling her with thick ribbons of cum. “You did very, very well.” He praised her, clicking the wand off and letting it slip from his hands, resting his head to her chest for a moment in an effort to come back down to earth before untying her. Once freed, he held her to him, her body spent, sore and shuddering, Beth still on a high from the pleasurable mix of complete ecstasy tinged with the sublimity of pain.

Aftercare was very necessary in the wake of such, Alfie stroking her as she lay stretched out atop him, letting her come back down steadily, her descent still glimmering with the thrumming of pleasurable waves ebbing away slowly. She adored the duality in him, the man capable of pushing her to the very limits of what she could withstand, hard and unyielding, yet then soft in the aftermath, both her decimator and protector.

“You alright, duchess?”

She lifted her head, smiling hazily, making him chuckle. “All still floaty and dreamy.”

“I did me job proper, then.”

Yes, he most certainly had. Nobody did it quite like him. She lay there buzzing away still for a time, stroking his chest idly, enjoying the rhythm of his heartbeat directly below her ear.

“You want me to run you a bath?” he asked a while later, knowing she liked the comfort of hot water after a particularly intense session, Beth nodding as she learned to kiss him. He gently shifted her, getting up and dressing again, heading to the bathroom and plugging the tub, turning the water on and decanting a splash of her bath oil. He then went downstairs and poured her a glass of wine, placing it on the windowsill. Ten minutes later, and he was placing her marked up, exhausted body into the water, Beth thanking him. He was always so attentive.

“Thank you. I love you,” she hummed, receiving a kiss.

“Love you too, baby beast. I’m gonna go get back to work. Do you want to order in for dinner or go out?”

“Oooh, I think go out. Can we go to Karma, please?”

“Yeah, good idea. I’ll call ‘em, get a table for seven?” Karma was a Japanese eatery in Mayfair Alfie owned, Beth’s favourite of all of his restaurants.

“Perfect.”

And it was. It was all so lovely, Beth enjoying the wonderful flush of new romance she was partaking of giddily with her new boyfriend. Talia could try all she liked, but the delusional former resident of the beautiful home that she loved spending time in would not ruin what they had.

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omnidemidisaster · 2 years

Text

Kuki x Wally fluff

Can any of you tell that I love this ship. Before the events of Flower and very VERY heavily implied crushes and slight obsession ( nothing too bad, just like very surface level stuff ). Oh yea, brief and implied Nigel x Abigail because 1x5 is a cuter ship imo then 2x5

"Hood Swap"

"Really? You want to swap our hoods?" Wally crossed his arms looking at the taller girl. "Yea! I'd think it'd be fun!" Wally wasn't opposed to swapping their hoods, he did want to wear Kuki's sweatshirt so badly. But he didn't want that to come out.

"Its just clothes!" Kuki crossed her arms, mocking his stance. "Exactly. Why can't we swap then?" Wally tried to find a reason, but his mind went blank. "Fine...let's swap. On one condition. If you get my hoodie dirty or ripped, I'm taking it back" Kuki smiled. "Deal!"

><><><><><><><><><>><><><><><><><><>

Kuki walked out her room, orange instead of green on her torso. She looked at herself and smiled. "Its a little form fitting, but it feels super comfy!" Wally looked up at her, fighting to blush at her adorablness. "You look comfy too!" Kuki remarked, pointing at Wally in her sweatshirt. "Y-Yea it comfortable I guess..." He stuttered a little.

Just then, Nigel walked by. "What in the..." Wally instinctively looked away while Kuki looked at Nigel with joy. "We are swapping our clothes for the day!" Nigel just tilted his head in confusion. "Uh..alright? Me and Numbuh 5 are gonna grab some lunch and bring it back, you both want anything?"

"Oh you know what we like!"

"And I know what Wally likes" Wally snapped up to look over, seeing a smug Abigail looking right at him. "You comfy in that?" She teased. Wally just began stuttering. Nigel snickered at this lovely little scene. "Well, We'll be back. Numbuh 2 isn't gonna be here at all so you both will have a lil bit of free time~"

Wally covered his insanely red face. "Wait why is Numbuh 2 not going to be here?" Kuki asked. "Numbuh 2 got sick. Heard he's puking everywhere" Kuki cringed at the thought.

"Well, let's go pick up food and we'll be back" Nigel said, starting to head out. "Have fun!~" Abigail shouted before she left.

Kuki tapped on Wally's head, making him look up at her. "You okay?" She asked. Wally nodded, still looking away in embarrassment. "You sure? If you want we can change back-"

"No."

Kuki looked a little surprised. She thought he was just embarrassed of giving in for something minor. "Its not the clothing it's the issue" He said. "Oh.." Silence followed. Now they didn't know what to do. "Uh...you wanna watch tv?" Wally asked, scratching the back of his neck. "Sure!"

As the two watched TV, Wally's flusteredness died down, now just focusing on the giant screen and less on the swap. Suddenly, Kuki got up. "I'll be right back, it'll just be a second!" She left the room, leaving Wally by himself. He thought she was going to the bathroom or something.

Well usual trips to the bathroom aren't 10 minutes long. He became curious and looked around for Kuki. He didn't think she would of left-left. He checked each room, finally making it to his room. He opened the door to see Kuki laying on his bed, holding something in her hands.

He tried looking over her, but couldn't tell what she was holding. "I'm so glad we did the swap!" Kuki said to the Rainbow Monkey toy in her arms. "His hoodie is so comfortable and it smells just like him!" Wally covered his mouth, in fear of making any noise. His cheeks went pink, but he kept listening. "He looks so cute in my sweatshirt, he should wear it more often!"

Cute? Him? Never. She was the one all cute! "Oh, its been a while...Hold on Mr Happy Rainbow Monkey, I'm gonna put you back and go to the couch, hes probably thinking I left the tree house or something" Wally quickly ran back to the couch and pretended he didn't eavesdrop on her little conversation.

"Hey Wally! Sorry I kept ya waiting" Kuki greeted him with a smile on her face. "O-Oh its no problem." She sat next to Wally and pulled him in for a hug. Wally tried not to blush as he was pulled in. He started to get relaxed again, soon sinking into Kuki's arms. God he was happy he agreed to the swap.

><><><><><><>><><><><><><><><>

"Hey uh, Kuki?" Kuki turned around, her hair being flung out of her face like a curtain on a windy day. "Yes, Numbuh 4?" Wally scratched the back of his neck. "Y-You can keep the hoodie if you want, I have another one" He said. "Oh! Okay! You can keep that one too" Wally internally celebrated, but just kept his goofy flustered look on.

* Bonus! *

"We should do that one day too" Nigel said to Abigail as they stood in line waiting for their food. "If you can pull off just an extra large shirt, Numbuh 5 will agree" Nigel thought about it. "Well, I suppose I could try. Never wore just a shirt before though" He did imagine it was quite comfortable, much more than wearing pants in his opinion. "Well, I'll do it!"

"Cool, if you wanna do that, we'll do that. But just so you know, Numbuh 5 ain't shaving my head bald"

"HEY"

#fluff #numbuh 3 x numbuh 4 #3x4 #knd 3x4 #kuki x wally #wally x kuki #nigel x abigail #1x5 #knd 1x5

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yandere--stuck · 3 years

Note

Hello, okay I. am. Obsessed. With you’re joker fics 💕💕💞💞 if you ever write anymore don’t be shy to tag me in them if you want. Kay? :D

Have a nice day! :DDDD

@thephantomnoseblower

Aaaaaa thank you so so much!! I'm so glad you like them! Also I'm so happy to meet another Joker Liker. He's the best!! 💚💚💚

And! You inspired me to write more, so I made some general Yandere!J Headcanons. I hope you like them ^^

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💜 When it came to love, the Clown Prince of Crime could find it most anywhere, if he looked hard enough. In his mortal enemy, in his former psychiatrist, and… In you. You don't have to be anyone of particular importance, or of a particular personality - really, Joker could build rapport and hit it off with most anyone. Or, at least, that's what he believed. Joker liked you, grew to love you, exactly as you were. After all, you accepted him and took him exactly as he was, without pleading to be let go or have mercy, begging him to change and reform. No, no, no, you were different. Sweet. Charming. Funny!

🃏It's a hostage situation, when he first met you, got real up close and personal with you. The other hostages all trembled and whimpered in the corner, looked over by his men. But you seemed calm, whether you were brave enough or so afraid you had gone frozen didn't really matter. It was a bore waiting for the news crew and the Bat, so he went around, talking to the civilians - a mix between making idle chat and intimidating them to tears. None of them could bother to even speak, some bursting into tears. Finally, he made his way over to you, kneeling down to your level. "How about you, dear? How's your night going?" Your heart rabitted within your chest. You could barely breathe, but you tried to steel yourself. Show no fear. You managed to exhale with hyperventilating, a breathy chuckle escaping your throat. "Eh, could be better, I'm not gonna lie." The Clown snickered, which egged you on. This was good, right? You continued, "It's my first time as a hostage, so I hope I'm doing it right." The Joker beamed as he barked out a laugh. "You're doing just fine! At least someone here has a good sense of humor."

💚 It wasn't long before police helicopters began to swarm the building the Joker had stashed you in. Through the glass exterior of the high rise, you watched as the choppers circled the building, circled the Joker and his men, circled you and your fellow hostages. Somehow, dread managed to sink even further into the pit of your stomach. The GCPD had a poor reputation for a reason - filled with corrupt, crooked, and reckless cops. The entire police force was filled with more bad apples than good. Someone here was going to get hurt. God, why couldn't they have just waited for Batman to deal with this?! Through the glass, you could hear the voice of an officer shout something unintelligible. The Joker turned to one of his men, tilting his head toward the copter. "Tell 'em I'm not talking to anyone but Bats." The lackey seemed to hesitate, but only for a second, fumbling to pick up a speakerphone while also keeping his weapon in hand. He approached the chopper, stepping out onto the balcony, raising the speakerphone- and you let out a scream as a shot rang in the air, the man flying back as he was shot.

💜 The other hostages descended into hysterics as Joker's men began firing back at the chopper. "And I thought I was crazy," The Joker spat. "I thought these guys were supposed to be protecting you." You winced as glass shattered, shards exploding into the room. You opened your eyes, staring straight down the barrel of the helicopter's aerial gun- and in an instant you were pulled away, pressed against a solid chest as you were pulled away. You began to hyperventilate, heart beating so hard you could barely comprehend what was happening, vision swimming as you began to lose consciousness in your panic. As your vision faded, Joker's visage came into view. You felt a hand cup the side of your face. And then, it all went black.

🃏 You woke up not long after. People don't really stay passed out after fainting, just a minute or two, really. Long enough for police to storm the building and find you, taking you to safety. You were transferred to a hospital, where you were overlooked. You had minor cuts and bruises, the only major damage being that of psychological trauma. Before they released you, you watched a news report of the crime - the one you had just been a victim of. The Joker had managed to escape. Most of his men were taken out. It was a miracle that none of the other hostages hadn't died, and Gordon reprimanded his men and their reckless actions. But, you knew nothing would change. In spite of the traumatic experience you had been through, you knew you couldn't seek help for it. Mental health was a very, very touchy subject in Gotham. If someone caught you going to therapy, they'd probably think you're just one bad day away from becoming Gotham's next supercriminal. Life returned to relative normalcy… Until you received a package. It was specifically labeled "CARE PACKAGE" on the side in black marker. It was heavy, slightly damp at the bottom, had a foul odor, and had no return address. You hesitated, not knowing what to do with it… Before deciding to bite the bullet and open it. It contained a bouquet of flowers, (containing one trick flower that spurted out water, drenching your face), a whoopee cushion, a teddy bear, a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and… Your eyes widened in horror and disgust. The last three items were a note, a Joker playing card, and… A human heart. You hesitantly reached in, making sure not to touch the organ as you did, shaking as you read the note. "So sorry the other night, my dear! I didn't expect things to get quite so hairy. Those animals! If they had hurt a hair on your head, it'd be no more Mr. Nice Joker! I wanted to check in on you and make sure you're doing well. I know that if I don't get proper care after something nasty, I go a bit looney, myself. I just wanted to look out for my favorite hostage! … And perhaps, something more? See you soon, love. ~ J" Oh, God. Oh, God. Your legs went weak as you slowly sunk to the floor. You suddenly realized you had been crying.

💚 Joker liked you. Joker more than liked you. After your first meeting, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was obsessed! He was… In love. He was so glad that Harley understood and was supportive. You and he were meant to be. He'd ask Harley or his men to spy on you, gathering the information they knew. What you liked, your schedule, your favorite foods, what made you laugh. And if he got any word that his fellow Rogues were targeting places you frequented, they'd get an earful from him! And a bullet to the brain if they didn't take him seriously… He couldn't let harm come to you. And he had to make it perfect for when he finally took you home, with him. Forever.

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from-the-clouds · 3 years

Text

Kiss Me More (Part II) - Zemo/Reader

Masterlist || Part One

Summary: Part two, read part one if you haven’t already! Sam & Bucky put reader in charge of looking after Zemo....again. Series loosely inspired by this song.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Kissing, heavy petting, mentions of sex, minor TFATWS spoilers.

A/N: Wow! I was so shocked on the feedback I got on the first part of this story. It has nearly 800 notes. I’m not used to my writing getting that kind of attention so I really appreciate the love. I decided to make this into at least a 3-4 part series and there will be eventual smut, but I feel like there’s something sweet between these two that goes beyond an obvious physical attraction, so I do want to build that a bit before we get there. This weekend I rewatched TFATWS & Civil War because I’m officially obsessed with Zemo lol. Please let me know what you think, and let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist. :)

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“Keep an eye on him.”

Y/N watched Bucky and Sam split off again. That was now at least the third time she’d heard that phrase since she arrived in Riga. Little did they know, she was probably the worst person to be put in charge of Zemo. Truthfully, it was starting to be a little insulting.

It was unclear why she’d been brought along on this mission, when half the time Sam and Bucky were talking in hushed tones just out of her earshot. There was always more to the story than they told her, but this time, it felt like she was more out of the loop than ever.

She adjusted the neckline of the sweater she wore out of an abundance of caution, checking subconsciously to make sure it hadn’t exposed the mark Zemo had left on her from the day before. It was a discovery she’d made that morning, and persisted despite her efforts to cover it up with makeup.

“According to those two, I must be the best at babysitting you,” she muttered under her breath. It was petty, so she wasn’t even sure if she wanted him to hear. But he did.

“Babysitting?” Zemo lifted an eyebrow.

“You know, a nanny, a governess….whatever a Baron’s equivalent is,” she said, looking him in the eye for the first time that day, which was a mistake. He looked so handsome in that long, fur-lined coat, tall and refined, hair styled perfectly. There had to be warrants out for his arrest since escaping prison, and in his current getup, he was hard to miss.

It wasn’t easy to ignore the stifling tension between them. The Baron hadn’t left her thoughts since she’d closed the door on him the evening before. Now they were alone again. She couldn’t decide if that was thrilling or terrifying, so she decided on both.

“It’s nice of them to give us some alone time,” Zemo stepped close to her, one gloved hand pressing between her shoulder blades. Despite the cool temperature outside, it was the first thing today that had her shivering.

“Walk with me,” he commanded sternly. She saw no opportunity to refuse as they started in the direction opposite of where Bucky and Sam had disappeared.

“Zemo-”

“Helmut,” he corrected her. “But go on…”

“We have to focus on figuring out where Donya’s funeral will be,” she said, feeling his hand slide down to settle on the small of her back, trying to inch away, but he just pulled her closer. “We can’t waste time.”

“I know Riga inside and out, that won’t be as difficult as you and your friends think,” he murmured. His proximity was already suffocating. Or maybe comforting. It was hard to tell. “Tell me, what is your business with them? You aren’t an Avenger. This was my first time hearing your name.”

She snorted, finally finding the strength to pull away, and he dropped his hand. That was one thing that had confounded her. He was confident, took liberties with what others would allow, but knew when to stop pushing. There was something alluring to his nature.

“I’m not,” she responded, wondering how much she was willing to share. When she stole a glance out of the corner of her eyes, his head was lowered, leaning in, listening intently for her response. She wondered if he really cared, or if he was good at pretending. It was easy to believe that he did.

“Bucky and I aren’t that different,” she continued. “That’s why we’re friends. I’m not a super soldier, but I was taught how to fight, how to kill. I followed orders for too long without questioning whether or not I was doing the right thing. And at least now, I think I am.”

“You think,” he repeated, and corrected her again like he had the day before. As much as she wanted some kind of clever or quick quip back, she wore her heart on her sleeve for the moment and shrugged. There was nothing to defend when she still wasn’t sure what responsibilities she had in this world.

Zemo halted, and she paused too, turning back to look at him. “So you were an assassin,” he murmured, reaching out. Nodding slightly, she lowered her eyes when his gloved thumb brushed across her face. The buttery, overpowering smell of leather took her over as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I would’ve never guessed. Du bist so süß.”

Her knowledge of German was limited, but she could see a flash of what looked like affection in his eyes. He couldn’t be lying, could he? She wondered. She wanted to trust that he wasn’t, wanted to identify every good part of him she could, so she could justify the overwhelming attraction she felt towards him. Something in her just kept pulling forward against her will, like a magnet.

“You’d be surprised,” she answered, but didn’t pull away. The intensity of his gaze made her feel weak, but there was something strangely reassuring in his eyes. It was just the two of them, standing on a crowded sidewalk.

She rose her hand to clasp around his, frowning when she felt the hard loop of a ring on one of his gloved fingers. It had gone unnoticed by her, until now. He still wore a wedding band.

It would have been easy to vocalize the observation, gauge his reaction, try to regain some upper hand and remind him who exactly he was dealing with. But, it would’ve been pointlessly cruel, as she knew what that felt like to answer that question. Those days were behind her, now.

As if the universe was scolding her, a loud car horn broke through the perceived silence. His hand dropped from her face, and they began to walk again.

“I had lots of time to think in prison,” he said after a heady pause in conversation. “About the things I’d done. Whatever intentions you have, to someone, you’re always the enemy. What I thought was important, trying to serve the greater good, it isn’t always worth the trouble. I was trying to protect what I had already lost, the places and people I’d taken for granted.”

Deciphering his words, she took a moment before responding. “That’s actually...very insightful,” she said, partly surprised by what he’d shared, appreciating that he felt her vulnerability, and matched it in his response.

“I know you’re stunned I’m not a brute,” he answered, increasing his pace to a determined strut rather than a lazy stroll. She was forced to keep up with him. “You’ve been told what to think about me by Sam and Bucky.”

She scoffed. “Not just them. The entire world. All the people you’ve hur-”

He halted and turned to face her so quickly, she collided with his chest and her breath caught in her throat.

“I’m not that man anymore,” his voice was nearly a growl, disgust laced in his features as he looked down at her.

But as soon as she recognized it, he became expressionless again, backing away. Falling back into step beside him, they continued to walk, a bit faster than they had been before. She followed him, at this point convinced that she might get lost without his guidance, but a little startled by his sudden change in behavior.

“What do you think of Riga?” he asked her as they cut through an alleyway. His voice held none of the venom that it had a few moments ago, so she wondered if she’d just hit a sore nerve.

“It’s beautiful,” she answered, admiring the old brick buildings and fine architecture. “But I think I haven’t had much of a chance to appreciate it.”

“Have you been thinking about me?”

They ducked under an alcove, and she realized he’d carefully led her off the crowded streets. It was much quieter here. She suddenly didn’t feel as protected as she had been with him in the open. The temperature in the shaded space was much lower than expected. And he was standing over her, waiting for some response she didn’t know if she could give.

“I haven’t forgotten about last night, liebling,” he continued.

Of course she had been thinking of him. Nearly nonstop. What they’d shared, what it meant. She hadn’t been able to sleep until she relieved herself, fingers rubbing her clit and delving into her warmth, whimpering his name when she finally came. Still, it had done little to quell the ache inside her.

It was a horrible thing, she’d decided. Objectively horrible, and unprofessional. There was the consideration of accessibility. What did he see in her beyond a means to an end? Was she really going to throw everything she’d worked for away to a man who was going to use her to scratch an itch?

Too much was at stake, Sam and Bucky’s trust, her reputation, her job, and she couldn’t allow it to go on.

But oh, how much she wanted it to.

“Yesterday was nice,” she straightened up, holding her own. “I won’t lie to you.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly in a self-satisfied smirk.

“But I’m not foolish,” she continued. “Coming on to the first woman you see after you get out of jail? Seems pretty convenient.”

At first, the Baron tilted his head to the side, his brows pulled together at her words. But after a moment, the smile returned, and he chuckled. “Is that what you think this is about?”

“Don’t insult me, Helmut,” she said sternly, trying her best not to feel embarrassed. She was only being honest.

“Are you always so severe to yourself?” he asked, tutting lightly.

It would have been better to say nothing. Why give him anything at all?

She didn’t answer his question, just backed away from him and began walking in no particular direction, wanting only to increase the space between them and regain her common sense. That was impossible however, as she was jolted backwards before she even knew what was happening, a firm hand on her upper arm, and she was chest to chest with Zemo once more.

“We were in Madripoor together. I could’ve had my way with many women there if I wanted. But I didn’t.”

“Please-” she rolled her eyes.

“If all I wanted to do was fuck someone, I could have done it by now,” he stalked forward, the air pressure around them dropping, weighed by the tension hanging thick between them. “But that’s not what I want. I want you.”

His words, spoken in a soft, low purr rattled away every bit of resolve she had left in her. Some last ditch effort found her stepping backwards, but her body met the brick wall behind them and she realized he had her cornered.

In more ways than one, she thought.

Taking in a shaky breath, she looked up at his eyes, clouded with lust. “I know you want me,” he said, not a shred of doubt in his voice. But why should there have been? He was right.

Her eyes darted around, like someone or something around them was going to jump out and save her from herself. It didn’t go unnoticed. “There’s no need to be scared, liebling. I feel it, too.”

With that, he closed the gap between their lips. He tasted sweet, like the candies he’d been eating back at his flat. Turkish delight. She was drowning in him again, his scent, his touch, everything about him enveloped and beguiled her. Her shirt had bunched up slightly somewhere along their walk and his gloved hands explored the exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

She surrendered, letting him tease open her mouth and claim her wholly. It was still bad, she knew. But there wasn’t any last bit of self-control left in her.

The layers of clothing between them didn’t allow for the same proximity she’d had to him the evening before. Groaning in delight and frustration, she reached up to tangle and rake her fingers through his hair, as his fingers curled around the top of her sweater, revealing the sensitive skin of her neck.

“Don’t hide this,” his lips left hers as his eyes focused on the stamp of affection he’d left behind the day before. “Let them see.”

“You know I can’t,” she responded, sheepishly pulling it back into place. Studying her with amiable consideration, his hand rose to brush tenderly across her cheekbone.

“I thought you’d come to me last night,” she confessed, drawing away slightly, shocked by her own admission. But right now, she didn’t feel the need to put up as much of a facade. He looked positively virile; panting, his cheeks flushed and hair mussed, pupils blown out as he focused on her. To know she was the cause of his current state of disarray gave her an immense amount of satisfaction. A buried, salacious part of her wondered what else she could do to make him look even more unkempt.

“I considered it,” he said, sounding almost timid. “But I want to do this right.” He leaned in, pressed a kiss beneath her ear. “In private, so no one can disturb us,” he continued, lips moving down her neck. “We can take our time, you can be as loud as you’d like.”

The mental image he was currently painting for her was doing very little to strengthen her convictions, whatever those had been. The thought of her legs wrapped around his torso, naked bodies pressed together sent a bolt of electricity through the pit of her stomach, radiating outwards. She wanted his lips on every inch of her skin. Aching at the possibility, the present tease of his teeth nibbling on her collarbone wasn’t helping.

“You know we can’t,” she didn’t try to stop the thought as it came out of her mouth.

“What is there to lose?”

Everything, she thought, but didn’t answer. She couldn’t really, as his gloved hand was trailing slowly under her jacket and sweater, against her bare skin, and cupping her breast through her bra. Whimpering, she couldn’t control the way her body arched against his.

Hooking her knee on his hip, she let him press forward, feeling the warmth of his excitement through his trousers and her jeans. He ground against her once, teasingly, and she moaned softly into his mouth.

He was the one to pull away, and she was thankful he did. “Think about it, liebling,” he said softly, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. “Du hast die Kontrolle.”

“We can’t,” she answered again, but even she didn’t believe herself. Raking her hands through her hair and adjusting her rumpled sweater, she straightened up. “We have a job to do.”

Brushing past him out of the alcove, each step she took away from him gave her the self control she desperately needed. She glanced over her shoulder to see him reluctantly trudging behind. At this point, she wasn’t foolish. There were only two ways this could end.

----

Part III

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inkykeiji · 3 years

Text

the clock is ticking, running out of time

characters: shigaraki tomura

genre: smut and angst

notes: AAAAAAH HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOMURA!!!!!! sorry i seem to write angst for all of my faves birthdays ehehe. this is technically set in the touya-nii universe!! | title cred: birthday by katy perry

warnings: 18+ minors dni, cheating, implied stepcest/pseudo-incest, toxic relationships, the slightest hint of degradation, noncon/dubcon video recording, extreme feelings of guilt

words: 4.4k

synopsis:

“It’s fine—”

“It’s not,”

“I didn’t come here to talk about Touya,” you say gently, letting your dress drop down as you straighten up. “Let’s—Let’s not think about him right now, okay? Today is your day, and I want to focus on you. Forget about Touya,”

A deep frown mars his face, his nose twitching again. It looks like he wants to say more, but then your hands are on him, roaming across his bony chest and sliding into the tufts of silvery-blue hair at the nape of his neck.

“It’s hard to buy a gift for someone who already has everything,” you’re continuing softly, gazing up at him through your lashes, so close your noses nearly bump together. Sweet breath wafts over his face, a tongue darting out to lick at his lips, as if he’s trying to taste it. “So I thought…I thought the best gift I could give you is me,”

And suddenly, Touya’s wiped from his mind.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

That’s the thought that’s been looping through your head for the past forty-five minutes, for the entire bus ride from Touya’s apartment to Tomura’s, for the walk from the bus stop to his condo complex, for the thirty-seven seconds it takes him to answer the door.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

But you want to.

It’s been months since you’ve seen him last, months since you spent the night with him, months since you’ve spoken to him at all.

4:06. The glowing numbers glare up at you from the screen of your phone, unable to stop obsessively checking your phone, mentally calculating the time you have left over and over again, even though you’ve already meticulously planned this outing down to the very second.

It’s rare for Touya to be out for an exact amount of allotted time, but when he mentioned that he had a three hour full body check up with his doctor that just so happened to be scheduled on Tomura’s birthday…Well, it was too convenient for you not to seize the opportunity.

The door swings open, breaking you out of your thoughts, and your name leaves his lips in a gasp, crimson eyes searching your face in disbelief. A beat of silence passes before he speaks again. “What’re you doing here?”

“Wanted to see you for your birthday,” you say simply with a shrug and he blinks several times, still staring at you incredulously. “You didn’t think I forgot, did you?”

And for a moment you’re terrified you’ve made a grave mistake, terrified that he doesn’t want you here, that he thinks the risk is too big—Touya will murder the both of you if he finds out—too dangerous, his body gone rigid in the doorway, breathing stopped.

But then a brilliant smile is splitting his face, and he’s pulling you into his arms, crushing you to his chest as his fingers curl in the material of your dress.

And you—you practically collapse against him, sighing out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He still smells exactly the same, just as you remember—like cheap cigarettes and watermelon bubblegum.

The scent evokes thick unfurling remorse, sinking heavily in your stomach, the mantra you’ve been repeating to yourself for the past few days immediately flowing through your mind, a desperate attempt to reassure yourself, to reason with yourself, to justify this decision.

Because you both deserve closure, don’t you? After everything that’s happened? After leaving him without a trace, without so much as a phone call or a quick text to at least let him know you’re okay?

Because Touya’s cheated on you how many times throughout the first six months of your relationship? One more teeny tiny instance of infidelity—the last one, you promise yourself—shouldn’t hurt, so long as he doesn’t know about it.

Right?

Really, this does nothing to dispel the culpability churning in your chest. No, Tomura’s bright boyish smile does that all by itself, sincere in the way it’s stretched across his face as he tugs you inside.

And...And suddenly, none of it really matters. Not in that moment, at least. Suddenly, all of those statements are rendered true; Tomura does deserve this. Suddenly, you realize just how much you’ve missed him.

“I have to be quick, I’m sorry,” your voice cracks under unexpected emotion, but Tomura doesn’t seem bothered by it at all, ecstatic over the fact that you’ve come to visit at all.

“That’s fine,” he’s saying as his hands roam your body, kneading and squeezing with surprising gentleness, eyes shining and wide as they follow his touch, as if he can’t believe you’re here, can’t believe you’re real.

It has your heart shattering in your chest, jagged shards puncturing your surrounding organs, burying themselves deep within you, never to be dug out. A lump lodges itself in your throat, voice frail and full of spit as you speak around it.

“I missed you so much,” the words rush from between your lips without your permission, and Tomura pulls back, smile fading as his gaze searches your face.

For a moment, you can tell that he wants to berate you for disappearing without any contact at all, can see it shining clear as crystal in his eyes as they narrow, as eyebrows knit and his nose scrunches, and you nuzzle your face into him. Guilt, a different kind than that which Touya evokes—this type lighter than the dense acidic guilt that sticks to your insides like thick tar any time sapphire sears through your mind, this type bitter and saturated with melancholy—roots in the pit of your stomach.

“I—I’m sorry I haven’t been able to text,” you mumble meekly, tears pricking your eyes. “Touya—”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off with surprising softness, fingertips still trailing up and down your spine. “I figured. Uh, how is he? Like, how…How was he?”

The brand of those five letters, now fully healed, scald your flesh, blistering bright and hot as if you had just been branded again. With your bottom lip sucked between your teeth, you contemplate just outright telling him—he’s going to see it eventually either way, but you’re worried about ruining the mood a little too early.

No.

Better to rip it off like a band-aid, to get it out of the way now, instead of interrupting your birthday festivities later.

Your chest swells with a deep inhale, exhaling the words slowly.

“He was…” Livid. Furious beyond belief. Deeply hurt—distressed, distraught, dismayed. Visibly shaken up. In more pain than you’ve ever witnessed before. Terrified. “Upset. Naturally.”

Tomura waits for you to continue, speaking after a few moments of silence. “And?” he prompts, knowing Touya didn’t let you get away with a mere verbal warning, knowing you have more to say.

“A-And—” you bury your face against his neck, hot tears leaking from your eyes and staining his skin as they squeeze shut tightly, forcing the quivering words from your throat. “And he—He, um, he branded me,”

“What?” The word is just a huff of breath as large hands curl around your shoulders, yanking you from the sanctuary of his body so he can scrutinize your face, flashing crimson flying across your features. “He what?”

“His name,” you whisper, eyes still shut, face screwing up in distaste, the words bitter on your tongue.

“Where?”

“My ass,”

“Let me see,”

Eyes snapping open, your head begins to shake, motions cutting off when your stare meets his glare. Reluctantly you turn, flipping your dress up as you bend over a bit, pulling your panties down just enough to show him the slightly raised letters etched into your flesh forever.

Save for the soft, choked noise that sounds in the back of his throat, silence blankets the room, atmosphere suddenly stale and suffocating.

You glance back at him after a few beats, when your chest is beginning to burn from holding your breath in your lungs, and the sight that you are met with has your chest tearing itself in half, ribs caving in, giving way to the deep, dark ache swirling at the very core of your body.

Crimson eyes gleam in the setting sun, a thick layer of tears catching in the golden rays streaming through the window. It’s almost pretty in a way, brilliant ruby that shimmers and shines in the waning beams, practically glowing. But those beautiful, beautiful eyes are transfixed on your bare flesh, unblinking stare etching itself into your skin much like the letters Touya left behind.

His chin trembles just a little, front teeth sinking into his bottom lip in an attempt to halt it, head nodding in minuscule motions, barely noticeable, almost as if he’s confirming something to himself, affirming some unsaid thought sailing through his mind—almost as if he’s blaming himself.

“Fucking bastard,” he spits, though the words are wobbly, lacking heat and coated in sticky saliva. Using the sleeve of his black shirt, he wipes at his nose almost aggressively, quelling it’s twitching as he exhales harshly, nostrils flaring, before he sniffs twice and rolls his shoulders back, gaze finally meeting yours.

“It’s fine—”

“It’s not,”

The glittering scarlet lace barely obscured by your thin dress singes itself into your flesh as his palms cascade over it, tracing every dip and curve of your body as they slide down to grope your ass.

You had bought the set for this occasion specifically—using cash you had stashed away, of course; Touya regularly checks your bank statements and credit card—with the intention of letting Tomura keep it, as a present.

“It’s hard to buy a gift for someone who already has everything,” you’re continuing softly, gazing up at him through your lashes, so close your noses nearly bump together, sweet breath wafting over his face, a tongue darting out to lick at his lips, as if he’s trying to taste it. “So I thought…I thought the best gift I could give you is me,”

And suddenly, Touya’s wiped from his mind.

He surges forward, foreheads bumping together from the strength, and crushes his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, nimble fingers curling in the hem of your dress and yanking, pulling the material from your body in one erratic motion.

He’s just as enthusiastic as he was all those months ago, large hands settling on your lace-clad hips as he guides you—back, back, back, stumbling over your own feet a little as he shoves forward, teeth clacking as his tongue tangles with yours, interspersed drool pooling at the corners of your lips.

A soft cry of surprise leaves your lips as he roughly spins the two of you so he’s the one reversing, collapsing in the overstuffed gaming chair abandoned near his desk and hauling you down with him, wheels rolling against the hardwood from the force.

His lips are plush and chapped, kisses messy with strings of viscous saliva, and you’re reminded of how fun kissing Tomura is, playful giggles spilling from one mouth into another consistently breaking the flow as eager hands paw and pull, snapping the clasp on your bra and haphazardly discarding it, your fingers toying with the silver button of his charcoal jeans.

“Get on with it already,” he groans, impatient and entitled as ever, exactly how you remember, hips rutting up into you clumsily as hands travel up your torso to knead your breasts much too hard. And even though it shouldn’t, his predictability inspires a burst of intense warmth in your chest, burning bright like a tiny sun, heat seeping into your blood and flooding your veins as more involuntary giggles pry their way out of your mouth and into his.

“Think that’s funny, huh?” he asks, and although his eyes are fierce and sharp as they scrutinize your face, there’s a playful little grin decorating his lips, slender fingers tweaking a peaked nipple and snickering at your resulting yelp.

“Just missed you, s’all,” you mumble against him, lips dragging along his jaw then trailing down his neck, tongue peeking out to give kitten licks at self-inflicted scars and tugging pathetic little half-whimpers from deep in his throat, rough and uneven as he tries to swallow them back down.

There isn’t enough time for thorough prep, your only form of foreplay consisting of his cock being rammed down your throat—just get it fucking wet, he had demanded—hips stuttering as he desperately tries to keep from bucking while your tongue laves around the shaft, drenching it in spit.

“Fu-Fucking stop, or I’m gonna cum,” Large fists tangle in your hair, trying to yank you off his cock with a pathetic little whine. Gaping pupils outlined by a fine ring of scarlet observe the way your shining lips pucker around his girth as your mouth slides up, grip on your strands already loosening as his chest heaves, completely absorbed by your actions, breath escaping slightly parted lips in sweet little puffs.

A little tongue flicks against the slit as you reach the tip, placing an obscene openmouthed kiss to the head before pulling away completely. Your mouth hovers an inch above it, allowing a large glob of sticky saliva to dribble from your mouth onto the head, then kissing it again, pressing slippery lips to heated silky skin.

“Jesus Christ,”

The curse is nearly a moan, and you look up from your place between his thighs, batting your eyelashes and offering him a tiny smile. His eyes glitter as he gazes down at you, chest rising unevenly under the force of ragged breaths, a thumb swiping across your cheek in a manner that’s almost awestruck, as if he can’t believe you’re here.

“Get on my cock,” he orders a moment later, when the aching between his legs draws him back to reality, hips jerking up in reflexive, instinctive micro-movements, gleaming cock bobbing with the action. “And take your fucking panties off,”

It’s a little awkward and a lot uncoordinated, trying to maneuver yourself onto his lap while he slouches in that ridiculous gaming chair, unable to quell the way his hips prematurely thrust the moment you’re hovering over him, legs folded and cramped on either side of his thighs.

Pathetic little whimpers leak from your lips as his slick cock stretches your ill-prepared hole, cunt stinging as it struggles to adjust to the sudden breach, your nails digging into the lean muscles of his shoulders as a hiss is spit between clenched teeth.

But the moan he emits, deep and satisfying as you sink down on him, how his eyelashes flutter shut and his head knocks back against the headrest as he bottoms out, long ivory neck and prominent Adams apple on display, and the way massive hands grip your hips, fingertips digging into your soft flesh as he forces you to begin bouncing almost immediately, make it all so worth it.

Because he’s still so pretty, lids lifting a moment later to reveal dazzling ruby gazing at you in an almost voracious manner through thick dark lashes, glued to your face as he memorizes every micro-expression that transforms your features, the way your eyes roll back and eyebrows twitch, the way your mouth forms around those cute little gasps of his name that his rough thrusts punch from your chest.

“Did’ya miss my cock?” his breath is already coming out in short little pants, hips grinding urgently against yours, lacking any kind of finesse or rhythm. “B-Bet’cha did,”

“Uh-huh,” your head nods jerkily, hips rocking just as desperately into his as if to confirm your statement. His cock is pretty, too—a darker pink than Touya’s, half an inch shorter but just as fat, thick veins snaking around the shaft like vines.

“Dick drunk already?” he teases, and you’re positive his voice was meant to be more rancorous, but the large grin it’s spoken through, as if he’s proud of himself, chest nearly swelling with it, dilutes it, disintegrating the bitter shell that was supposed to coat the words. His tongue clicks, fluffy tufts of hair bouncing a little as he shakes his head. “What would your precious niichan think?”

You don’t answer—can’t answer—because it’s already so much, uncoordinated thrusting almost teasing in a way, the head of his cock unintentionally grazing that spot buried deep inside of you, the fleeting sensation mixing with that of the taboo, of the naughtiness of the situation, mewls spilling from your lips.

And you wish, so desperately, that you could take your time, that you could enjoy such amateurish gyrating, crude movements giving way to sloppy squelching that makes your stomach swoop and cunt throb as your clit glides against his pubic bone, but the mention of niichan reminds you of your finite amount of time and you lean back, soft palms finding the edge of his desk, fingers curling tightly around it.

Tomura’s bare feet planted on the hardwood keep the chair from shifting as you begin to really ride him, starting with slow, hard rolls of your hips that have cute little grunts hitching in his chest, bright eyes darkening as they watch, lids drooping a little, your movements increasingly gaining speed with each rock forward of your hips, leaning back against the desk and using it for leverage.

Blunt nails bite into your skin, and you want to remind him not to leave marks, but the words won’t keep their shape as they gurgle in your throat, evaporating into moans that break with each rough buck of his hips.

He finds a rhythm with you quickly, though, your lust-hazed mind dully noting that he’s better than before, the thought conjuring sudden, fierce spears of jealousy that slice through your chest, jaw clenching.

“Fuck, you—you’re still the best I’ve ever had,” he practically whines out, like he’s reading the thoughts on your face, but his voice is genuine, strained and hoarse with the confession. “Will probably always be the best I’ve ever had,” his sentence fades into a growl, almost as if he’s angry about it, hands squeezing your hips.

Nevertheless, you’re unable to stop the little smile those words paint across your lips, giggling breathlessly as bubbly warmth tingles in your chest, a sense of shameful pride rushing through your veins.

“Yeah?” he seethes in a huff, eyes narrowing. “Bet you’re proud of yourself for that, little slut,”

You are, you’re nodding, tongue rendered useless as his hips piston into you, cockhead repeatedly slamming against your cervix, reaching deeper and deeper and deeper the further you lean back, until the sharp edge of the desk is cutting into your back.

“I know you are,” he sneers, callous tone emphasized by his brute force as he fucks you. “V-Vain little bitch, happy she’s ruined me—ruined sex for me, forever,”

It’s getting harder for him to speak now, words punctuated by half-baked whimpers and swallowed, stifled moans, the sentiment under his speech accentuating pleasure for the both of you, dirty humiliation only making everything that much more intense, heady and addicting as it intoxicates your bodies, your minds, your souls.

“S-So the least you could do,” he begins in a keen, pace faltering as he squirms under you, yanking his phone from his back pocket. “Is give me something to—ah, Christ—remember you by,”

You should tell him no. You should cease all bouncing on his cock the moment he presses that little red button on his screen, the moment the flash next to the camera turns on, signaling it’s recording. You should.

But you don’t. You don’t, because he’s right. Because that guilt returns, seeping up through the floor of your stomach and spreading to your other organs, chest tightening as it reaches your heart. Because you took something from him, something he’ll never be able to get back, purely for your own selfish gain, just to get back at the man you love, and that isn’t fair. That will never be fair.

Instead, you look straight into the lens, hips beginning to ride him almost viciously, pushing out your chest further, bouncing tits on display as they heave with your lewd moans of his name, begging him to fuck you, begging him for his thick cum, and oh please, Tomura, please, give it to me, want your cum so bad, need your cum so bad, please!

He chokes on his own groan, the hand holding his phone beginning to shake slightly as the other finds its place on your hip again, his own thrusts pumping wildly as he spits expletives through gritted teeth, your pathetic little mewls egging him on.

“G-Gonna cum?” he whines out, almost as if he’s begging you to say yes, the needy canting of his hips indicating that he’s about to, too, crimson searing into you as you nod messily. “Fucking do it, then, cream all over my cock like the good little whore you are,”

And you’re powerless to stop the loud cry that rips from your throat as your cunt clenches around him, only half of his name escaping in a yelp before your own shuddery gasp cuts you off, choking a little on the intense inhale, air sharp as razors as it rushes down your throat.

He follows less than a second later with a ferocious growl of your name, potent cum filling your aching little cunt, phone clattering to the floor as both hands grip your hips and force you to continue milking him until both of your bodies are shivering from the overstimulation.

You collapse against him, sweaty body melting into his, muscles quivering in exhaustion. Long arms encircle you, cradling you to his chest in a way that’s almost tender, phone laying forgotten a few feet away.

It’s just as nice as it was the first time, being swathed in his embrace, a gentle sigh slipping from between your lips. Nimble fingers trail up and down your spine, pressing into the notches, tracing the smooth, soft plains of your skin.

“Wish you could stay,” he mumbles into your hair, so quiet you nearly miss it—would have missed it if not for the vibrations in his chest.

Me too.

You want to tell him, want to express the same sentiment, to make it known that you desire the same thing, but the words tangle in your throat, that sticky brand of guilt that is specifically Touya refraining them from leaving your lips, yanking them back down into your chest with painful hitching breaths every time you try to speak.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until Tomura coos, pulling back a little to cup your face and tilt it up, big thumbs swiping across your cheeks as they catch glistening teardrops.

He doesn’t say anything—there is nothing to say—instead dipping his head to press his lips chastely to yours in the softest kiss he’s ever given you, mumbling his thanks for the birthday present a moment later.

There’s so much more you want to say, so much more you want to ask, but there’s no more time, opting to kiss him again in response, praying that it conveys all the things you can’t, all the things guilt won’t let you.

And then you’re scrambling off of his lap, collecting your dress off the floor and hastily pulling it over your head, turning back to find Tomura standing, holding out his hand, soaked lace in his grasp.

“Keep them,” you whisper, curling his fingers into a fist around the dainty material. “Happy birthday, Tomura,”

✰ ✰ ✰

You have forty-five minutes before Touya arrives home—that’s cutting it close, you were supposed to have a full hour, but Tomura’s arms were so warm, his gently rising chest so inviting, his entire aura so comforting, that you had allowed yourself to indulge, just for a moment, to let your eyes slip shut and exhale a soft sigh of contentment, snuggling into his embrace and inhaling his distinct scent deeply, holding it in your lungs for a moment, wishing it would stay, wishing it would stick to the gummy walls, take root and find a home there, wishing you could keep a piece of him with you, always.

The water scalds your skin as you step into Touya’s glass shower, hands instantly reaching for Touya’s bodywash and squirting a generous amount in your palm.

You lather your entire body with it, until every inch of your skin is covered in foamy white suds, until your flesh has been scrubbed raw, the sharp scent—something woodsy and musky, like a crackling campfire of burning hickory wood, smoky and sweet—enveloping you entirely, stinging your nose.

It sticks in your throat and invades your lungs, as if cleansing you from the inside out, and you choke on it, are suffocated by it, little gasps and coughs falling from your lips while nails claw at your neck.

That dull ache returns as you rinse your skin, throbbing incessantly at the very core of your body as you watch the last remnants of Tomura swirl around the drain, infused in the soapy water.

It shouldn’t hurt this much, you’re thinking to yourself as your fingers massage shampoo into your scalp. It shouldn’t, but it does, a painful lump lodging itself in your throat, expanding a little more every time you try to reason with yourself until it’s gagging you.

Something stings your eyes—soap from the shampoo as you rinse it from your locks, or maybe the potently fragrant scent from Touya’s bodywash, you try to convince yourself, that lump sprouting tiny spikes and viciously slicing into the gummy walls, that lump forcing saliva still containing traces of Tomura to collect in your throat, that lump reminding you that you’re a fucking liar.

It’s fine. It’s fine. Touya doesn’t need to know everything, does he? What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? And it was only a one time thing, wasn’t it? It’s alright, isn’t it?

These are the questions that cycle through your mind obsessively, running laps in your skull as you absentmindedly towel off your dripping body in your niichan’s bedroom, the gentle buzz of your phone snapping you out of your reverie.

For a moment, you’re terrified it’s Touya, texting you to tell you that he knows, you little slut, scrambling to snatch it off of the nightstand as trembling fingers hastily unlock it.

It isn’t Touya.

It’s Tomura.

best birthday present of my life, hands down. thank you. i love you.

The resounding slam! of the front door has your entire body flinching violently, the heels of Touya’s heavy boots thumping against the tile as he kicks them off mingling with his smooth voice as he calls your name.

It’s with watery eyes and painful little sniffles catching in your chest that your quivering thumb jabs at that tiny little trashcan in the corner of your screen, watching through blurry vision as the entire conversation disappears into the ether, gone forever—though those three glowing words that concluded the text are etched into the very tissue of your brain, where they will remain, forever.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura #eeeeee happy birthday baby boy ilysm #hehehehehe #ENJOY ENJOY ENJOY

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bakumu-archive · 3 years

Text

maybe its true

denki kaminari x reader

wc: 1.4k

summary: you know denki loves you, so why do you feel so alone?

cw: hurt/comfort, depressive thoughts, being alone, tickling, fluff, mentions of food

a/n: this ones been in my drafts for a month. does this count as an apology for being mean to him in my baku bday fic? shout out to my wonderful beta reader, @winniethepoohloathesyou you're the best ♥

minors do not interact. this work contains mature themes and if you continue reading you have agreed you are willing to see such content

You know that Denki still loves you.

It's written all over his face as he tells you all about his new video game obsession. How his eyes light up showing you all the progress he's made, and all the things he wants to do. He loves to talk to you about the things he loves because he loves you too.

You can see it in his eyes in the way that he jumps to help you with the dishes when you ask him to, washing the dishes while you get dinner started before he makes his way back to the game room.

You can hear it in his voice when he talks to you, cracking jokes and being playful with you to dispel the sorrow that he can see hidden in your eyes.

And he's good at loving you too. He knows how to hold you just right, how to give you the perfect forehead kisses, and how to smile at you so that your heart flutters every time.

So why do you feel so sad? So alone?

You know you shouldn't feel like this. Your brain is being irrational, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt. That the pain you feel of being pushed away isn't valid.

Because he comes to bed later and later each night; some nights not crawling under the covers until the sun is already up. The evenings you used to spend cuddling on the couch watching anime are now spent alone while he sits at his computer. The way everything he does is only done so he can go back to his games faster. Dinner is eaten later and later each night, until it’s 10 p.m. and the food has long since gone cold. The way he doesn't touch you like you need him to anymore, and if he does, it’s only because you begged him.

Is it enough that he loves you? Shouldn't you be his number one source of happiness? Why does he have to seek out and spend all his time away from you? Why aren't you enough?

It’s a stupid thought, one that you always fight as soon as it appears, because you know where it lead. But maybe it is true.

Maybe you are just being annoying. Trying to drag his attention away from things that make him happy. Being selfish and needy trying to consume all of him time.

But shouldn't you alone be able to make him happy? Are you not good enough anymore?

You try and push the thoughts away, but they are too loud and incessant.

And besides, you know what he would say if you brought it up to him. What he always says when you bring it up.

"I work all day and just want to play my games and relax when I get home. It has nothing to do with you, I love you, I just need to clear my mind."

The phrasing never sits right with you: are you not relaxing to be around? Does your presence in his life annoy him to the point where he has to play video games to escape you?

Stupid, stupid thoughts. Obviously, you don't annoy him like that. But it still stings. Still hurts.

You roll over in your dark bedroom, checking the time on your phone, blinded by the illuminated screen momentarily.

2:05 a.m.

Denki stayed up until 5:40 a.m. last night and woke up at 10 this morning. Thank god, it's a weekend, but he has to be getting tired by now, right?

You debate going to talk to him or just staying wrapped in the warmth of your blankets. Either way could end up with you sad and disappointed so you might as well make sure he hasn't fallen asleep in an awkward position. The last thing he needs is to have a sore neck and back.

You make your way through the dark house before peaking your head into the game room. Denki looks up from his screen and sends you one of his big smiles. Your heart instantly feels lighter but you can't hide the sadness in your voice as you speak.

"Are you coming to bed soon?"

His eyes grow wider at the crack in your voice, before he looks back down at his game. His mind seems to be racing and calculating, before he speaks.

"You know, I really wanted to get this done today. I've been trying to get it just perfect. Just a few more minutes and I'll be in. I promise, babe."

You try and hide the selfish hurt in your eyes. You knew this would be the outcome, it was foolish to even come ask.

Your lip quivers trying to hold in the pain and you mumble, "Okay, Denks. I'm going to go to sleep now. See you in the morning."

You leave, turning to go back to your room. The bed that you share with him will be cold on his half yet again as you fall asleep, but at this point you should be used to it, right?

You are almost to the bedroom door, too wrapped up in your own feelings to notice the sound of feet moving toward you at a fast pace. His body slams into yours and you jump as arms wrap around your waist and Denki envelops you in his arms. He gives you a firm kiss on the cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder.

"You looked too cute to be going to bed alone. I wouldn't want anyone to snatch you up before you got there, it's dangerous out here you know."

"In our own hallways? Shouldn't some pro-hero be here protecting us?" You sigh and roll your eyes at him as you lean into his embrace, enjoying it while it lasts.

He snuggles his nose into your neck before responding, “You are so right, I really need to call someone about the patrol routes.”

His hands move down to your hips slowly as he speaks again, “There have been sightings around here of a tickle monster on the loose. I would hate to see him get his hands on you.”

His fingers start to twitch at your sides.

You try to give him a warning, “Denki, don't you—” but you were too slow. His fingers dance over all of your most sensitive areas, tickling you until you laugh and plead for him to stop, but the noise just bounces off the walls all around you, falling on deaf ears.

His grasp eventually falters and your squirming body is eventually able to break free, making a run for the bedroom, but Denki is close on your heels. You jump onto the bed and grab a pillow to hold above your head as a weapon to defend yourself.

“Woah, woah, ok I didn't know that we kept weapons in here,” Denki laughs as he sees your fighting stance. “I'll turn myself in.”

He takes a running jump to the bed and belly flops onto the mattress with a force so large you almost fall off. He rolls over and looks up at you before opening his arms and motioning you to cuddle with him.

You flop into his embrace, snuggling into his chest as he starts to pet your hair. Both of your breathing slowly returning to normal after your battle.

Denki gives your forehead a soft kiss before he's angling your chin up so he can look you in the eyes.

“Babe, I’m really sorry I haven't been paying attention to you. How about tomorrow morning I make those special pancakes you love so much and we can talk about it more then?”

Your body perks up a bit. “The ones with the whipped cream?”

“Yep,” he closes his eyes looking smug before he peaks one eyes open at you, “including the secret sauce.”

You let out a small ouh before snuggling into him closer, getting comfortable in the bed that finally has the warmth you've been denied for so long, a small smile appearing on your face.

He reaches down to your hand and entwines his fingers with yours, his thumb rubbing small circles into your soft skin before he looks at you again, eyes swimming with love and regret.

“You're my everything, my whole world. You know that, right?”

You smile back at him, nodding before burying your face in his chest, getting more comfortable and warm by the second.

You know that you need to have a bigger conversation with him, but that can wait until tomorrow because right now you just need to bask in this feeling, of being surrounded by his love.

As you drift off to sleep you hear him, “Good night, Y/N. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Denks.”

thanks for reading :)

send me an ask to be added to my taglist! @matchamintmochi @unlimitedpastapass @eijirosriot

#denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #hurt/comfort #mha angst #denki angst #kaminari angst

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