#Is that still any reason for Taking Someone's Fucking Phone??? No absolutely not
Note
when the theater guy WHAT
I went to see the FNaF Movie today and seeing as I have a total of Zero friends in real world event range and both of my parents hate horror I had to go to the theater by myself for the very first time in my life, which was fine. Until it wasn't
The dude in charge of ticket checks stops me and instead of asking to see a ticket asks if the mask I was wearing was part of some costume. Little black cloth face mask, covid thing. He was an old man on a scooter and not wanting to have a discussion with this tiny old man about Covid19 I just went along with it and said sure yeah. It kind of was anyway, it has a little bear mouth on it and I was wearing Bear Ears and a brown cardigan as well.
Man goes "You can't wear a mask in here." I say "Why not?" He says "You can't wear a mask in here." I go, "I heard that part. Why Not. "Policy, I don't make the rules, just enforce them." I realize this man is being paid minimum wage to sit here and police people so I go, "Okay." and walk past him because he's just some guy in a little scooter in the middle of the atrium and he hasn't asked for my ticket so I assume that's Not His Job
He calls me back for my ticket so I take out my phone with the QR code with my ticket on it and he takes my phone to (I assumed) scan the code and then he pulls out his walkie and calls his manager and I realize very quickly he is not scanning my ticket and I want to Leave Now.
"Can I have my phone back?" "When my manager gets here."
"Give me my phone back." "When my manager gets here."
"Bill. Give me. My Phone." "As soon as my manager gets here"
I make a swipe to grab my phone from him and this tiny little 60 something man in a scooter in the middle of a theater atrium as the audacity to hold it back over his head like I am a Toddler he is preventing from grabbing at a knife.
I am now having a panic attack.
Manager walks over and I am a broken little Autistic man who just wanted to watch a Bad Horror Movie (it was actually pretty good) so I scream at this lanky probably 30-something in the middle of a Cinemark Theater Atrium with many a random bystander around "TELL HIM. TO GIVE ME. MY PHONE."
I swipe my phone from Bill's hand, full turn, and bolt out the door half way across the parking lot and call my mother in a heap on the sidewalk.
It's a very good thing the Five Nights at Freddy's movie was way better than I was expecting or today would have been awful.
#I never rant about anything ever but Oh My God#Oh???? My God???? What the Hell??????#I should point out. I might have said 'tell him to give me my fucking phone'#I say might because I Do Not Remember perfectly#As I was mid panic attack and was really fighting back the urge to Hit That Old Man#But I have been told I swear just a little when I'm too stressed#The manager was SO apologetic like the second he walked onto the scene I do remember that#He followed me at first when I ran but as soon as I was out of the building it was out of his hands so#I came back with my mother and she talked to him and it's like#The little old man is just. Kind of stupid. And an extreme rule follower#No Costume/Halloween masks in the theater is the rule and TECHNICALLY I did tell him the mask I was wearing was a costume piece#Is that still any reason for Taking Someone's Fucking Phone??? No absolutely not#But that's apparently ANOTHER rule#If there's anything sus about someone he's to hold their proof of entry (ticket) until a manager arrives#Which is most certainly a rule about Forgery Paper Tickets and NOT about holding someone's cellular device hostage over a mask#But like I said. This man is very locked on rules and had no common sense apparently#He gave us complimentary tickets after that so that was neat I guess#Anyway. The FNaF movie's good.#I enjoyed it a LOT better than I've enjoyed any of the games#I really was expecting a trash show like the books but man. Man#It was fun.#Not scary like at all but. Very fun.#You could go in knowing nothing about FNaF and come out with the most baseline knowledge which is fun#A good straightforward starting point#However I was disappointment in the lack of Autistic Children talking through the movie!!! Honestly!!!#I wanted to hear a child three seats down info dumping to their parent dammit!!!#Like with the Mario Movie!!!
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sin Summer (Ghost)
Rating: E (MDNI)
Words: 3.8k
Tags: Ghost x f!reader, tinder au, oral (f!receiving), piv sex, fingering, dirty talk, meet and fuck, pwp, reader sleeps around and no one blames them
Summary: You finally meet up with your faceless tinder guy and he quickly takes the number 1 spot on your hookup list.
a/n: When I say nothing is abandoned I mean NOTHING.
Part 1, Part 3
You're a little nervous when Saturday rolls around, but not any more nervous than you usually are. You're meeting in a public place, and if things break bad you can always scream. Hell if things break good Ghost promised to have you screaming. So one way or the other you get to be loud.
You don't even know who you're looking for, standing outside the bar and waiting for someone to... grab you? Usually you have a photo and can look around but Ghost was insistent that wasn't going to happen. You stare at your phone, at the open tinder dm and the promise from Ghost that he'd find you. He better not be a catfish or you're going to have to do some serious soul searching on your ability to be fooled on this app.
A large firm hand touches your shoulder and you quiet your startle response to something more reasonable for someone camped outside a bar.
"Easy love," his voice is so deep and rough, you pray this is Ghost, because you have to hear this voice dirty talk you. You have to look up to meet his eye. Which is just about the only thing you can meet since he's wearing a mask. You recognize the bottom of it, sort of, from one of his pictures. If nothing else the skeletal jaw print sort of lends itself to a name like Ghost.
"Ghost?" You ask hesitantly, if it's not him you'll sound like an idiot but the way his brows raise at your question give the same answer his voice does.
"The one and only."
"Faceless in person too, huh?" You really don't know what to say, never know what to say at the initial meeting. You both know what you're here for, but it's not like you can really say it.
"Try to be. Still got a mouth under here though, don't you worry." You feel the heat bloom over your cheeks at the same time you notice his eyes crease at the corners. You think he might be teasing you.
"You pull it up to drink I guess," you fish for something to say. Ghost shakes his head.
"Only comes off for one thing tonight sweetheart, and it's not drinking." His voice, God his voice, you think he could read the ingredients on a shampoo bottle and you'd get off on it. Your stomach clenches, eyes darting to his army fatigues. You really hope those are just for fashion.
"What the fuck are we at a bar for then?" You ask a little breathless. Ghost stares up at the bar sign.
"Gotta at least pretend I'm a gentleman," he tells you, "you said we were near your hotel, yeah?"
You grab his hand and very nearly drag him back to your hotel. Fuck it. If he is army you're not getting fucked in a barrack when you've got a perfectly good mattress at the hotel. You're sure he'd appreciate a shower with just the two of you in it as well. If he even wants to spend the night... do you want him to spend the night? If it means morning sex then absolutely.
It turns out Ghost's mask goes up for more than one thing, though you're given very strict instructions to keep your eyes closed for at least half of them.
Eyes closed when he kisses you. His hands are so big, rough with scars and callouses when they cup your face and tip your head back. You think you feel scars on his lips too, the softness of them cut with a raised lines of something, but you can't bother paying too much attention to them. His kissing leads you to believe some very promising things about his head. Lips sliding against yours firm and hungry before you try to get a breath in and he doesn't let you, deepening the kiss with an insistent tongue that makes your head spin from more than just lack of oxygen.
You love a confidant man. A man who kisses you like you're all that he wants, that he needs. You both know you're more than willing, but he still kisses you like you need convincing. His tongue slides against yours, licks into your mouth; he groans when you suck on the wet muscle. Ghost makes a quiet noise into the kiss, soft and a little desperate. You don't know if you'd considered how much he might want you when you'd started this.
"Ghost," you sigh when his lips leave yours and attach themselves to your neck. He hesitates, like it's the first time he's heard his name said like that, before diving in to bite you, hard. You tip your head back further with a gasp, the ache of his teeth against your skin makes you squirm, makes heat pool between your legs. You shiver as his tongue rolls over the bruise, his hands tugging at the bottom of your tee. You're careful to keep your eyes closed when he lifts it over your head. "Pants too," you hum.
"Don't gotta remind me," he tells you, fingers already skimming your belt. He barely gets it undone before he pushes his hand into your pants. His tongue clicks admonishingly, fingers skimming your wet panties. You do your best not to follow the firm strokes. "You're really desperate for me, aren't you?" His low tone hits you right where his fingers do. You're glad you're looking at the ceiling and not him, the way he makes your skin heat.
"You're my type," you tell him honestly, hips following the rub of his fingers. Screw it, if he's going to tease you, you're going to enjoy it.
"You should get better taste." You wish you could argue with that, but considering who you brought home he's probably right. You settle on humming, not willing to make a solid noise of agreement or disagreement when he's got his hand down your pants.
You close your eyes when he moves, when he hauls you up to position on the bed. His hand covers your eyes, warm and calloused, and big. It's firm, steadfast, you're almost enjoying the makeshift blindfold situation. Ghost's lips latch onto one of your nipples, sucking and rolling his tongue over the hardening bud. The heat of his mouth makes you squirm, the bite of his teeth just at the edge of too hard. He sucks and laves his tongue over you like he can't get enough of the feeling. You let a whine slip free and he moves his attention to the other one.
His fingers rub you through your underwear, working you up to soaking with practiced precision. Three firm fingers dragging up and down your slit, stopping to circle your clit with each stroke. It's warm pressure that makes your hips cant, chasing the movement. He's teasing you, keeping you just at the edge of eager while he enjoys himself with your breasts. You squirm a little and his touch slides further up to occupy itself with the waistband of your panties. You pull your legs up to help him get them off.
Ghost seems to switch gears as soon as they're gone. His hand leaving your eyes to grip under your knees, settling your legs on either side of him and pushing them up towards your chest. He trails his mouth down your stomach, nipping and licking at the soft skin, leaving his mark against your hip before he slips between your legs.
Keeping your eyes closed makes it hard not to flinch when his tongue drags over your slit. Broad strokes as he tastes you, his fingers spread you open so he can wiggle it between your folds and you press your hips into his touch. The hot drag of his tongue as it circles your hole makes you squirm, which makes him chuckle, deep and dark.
"You want me to hold you down?" He offers, the sound of his voice making heat rush over your skin. You shake your head and feel his broad shoulders shrug, you slide your legs over them and squeeze your thighs around his head. You feel him turn and bury his teeth in the soft flesh of your thigh.
It distracts him, you think, when he releases his teeth he runs his tongue along your skin, kissing and sucking at your thigh. His lips are appreciative, even when you squeeze him again. He's teasing you, he's so close to where you want him, working you up without ever touching your pussy. Your stomach jumps, warmth from his breath ghosting against your wet cunt. "I know baby," He groans, "gorgeous-" He cuts himself off, his lips pressing against your leg again before they leave you.
You almost open your eyes again when he fastens his mouth over your clit. You're so on edge waiting for him to touch you that you curl into his mouth, your fingers gripping his short cropped hair. His tongue rolls over your clit sending shocks up your spine. Your stomach jumps and you gasp as he sucks at your cunt, tugging at your clit and kissing your slit. He stirs heat in the pit of your stomach with each stroke of his tongue. Ghost's mouth is like a furnace, one that seems desperate to avoid parting from you. You hardly get a break from his insistent tongue, the sucking kisses, and the groans of deep satisfaction.
Ghost doesn't stop for a second, and the constant attention winds itself tight in the pit of your stomach. You whine, tug at his hair to pull his mouth closer, to keep that delicious suction that makes you want to writhe. He hums around your clit as you feel pressure build quick, before you can even warn him. Your whining grows more insistent as everything goes tight then spasms against his tongue as you come. Ghost doesn't give you a break, tongue stroking your clit as you clench and shake under him.
You jerk your hips when you feel his thick finger circling your hole, and his mouth leaves you. Only long enough to click his tongue and settle a hand on your stomach. He pushes your hips down against the bed, and eases his finger into your still fluttering cunt. "Gotta open you up love, relax." He tells you.
His finger is thick, thicker than some of the guys you've slept with, and you let out a soft noise at the gentle stretch. Ghost hums his encouragement, pumping his finger in and out of your cunt. He kisses your thigh again; you tip your head ever so slightly down and he clicks his tongue again. "Eyes up," He reminds you. You tip your head back, though you ache to get a look at the mouth that so expertly took you apart. The mouth that seems to still be trying to take you apart, because as soon as your head is back he's licking your clit again.
Your too sensitive, you have to force yourself to stay still, though his hand holding you down helps. You can hear the wetness between your legs, from his mouth, from his fingers, from your drooling cunt. Ghost hardly gives you a moment to adjust to the feeling, crooking his finger to stroke against your walls while he sucks. You clench around his finger and feel his tongue lap a broad stroke over your cunt in return. He waits for you to relax again before easing a second finger into you.
The burn of the stretch, just a bit too soon, is perfect. His fingers tug at your hole, sliding slickly in and out of you. It's just enough to make you feel full without filling you. Fuck it's good. Ghost strokes your walls, his fingers easing the stretch with gentle movements. He presses up against your soft spot and you let out a breath. You can hear the smile in his voice when he mumbles,
"There she is."
It's the only warning you get before his fingers are thrusting into you with a purpose. Short, quick, and precise, hitting your sweet spot with every stroke. Your stomach jumps and you clench around his fingers. He sits back, his hand leaving your stomach to hold your legs up, keep you from gaining any leverage as your back arches and you moan. He seems to have a direct line to your pleasure center. Each stroke of his fingers tightens in the pit of your stomach and makes your hips squirm to try and get away from the unrelenting jab of his hand. He's quick and experienced, and your legs shake over his shoulders.
You suppose it should be a relief when he removes his fingers just before you come a second time, and settles your feet on the bed. "Wanna watch you squirm," Ghost's voice is rough, deeper than you've heard it before. His fingers are the same, only this time when you try to get away from them he follows you. You were already on edge but this pushes you over. You buck and squirm, forcing him to fuck his fingers into you harder and faster until you shake apart with a shout and a flood of wetness. It coats your thighs, you know it coats his hand. It makes him groan. It doesn't make him stop. "Again," He tells you, his fingers still working you up quick. You don't have time to recover, your legs only pull up against your chest, desperate to curl in on yourself as the pleasure turns to pain and then pleasure again.
You come with your head thrown back and your fingers gripping the sheets. You shudder as it rips through you without warning, and once again coats Ghost's hand. He draws his fingers from you, and you hear him suck them clean. Somehow the sound makes you shiver.
Catching your breath takes priority over trying to sneak another peak at your partner for the night. You're sticky with sweat, three orgasms in, and you haven't even been fucked yet. You're buzzing just at the edge of enough. A good dick would make your night. To your side you hear the rustle of fabric being discarded. Ghost getting undressed you assume.
"Can look if you want," Ghost's voice is ever so slightly muffled, and when you do tip your head to find him he has his mask on again. You must look confused, because he shakes his head with a chuckle, and glances down to unclasp his belt. "Wanna look you in the eye," He explains, "Hard to do that with your eyes closed."
It's hard to look him in the eye anyway when he looks like that. Your eyes scour over the swell of well maintained muscle and the soft layer of fat that covers it. There are scars too, a whole host of them. They cover every inch of him, slashed over his chest, stabbed in his side, bullet holes in his shoulder and thick biceps. If you had any doubt this man saw combat it was gone now. He must be military, maybe special forces, it explains the mask.
Ghost pushes his pants down and you... well you need to rethink some things.
In your experience men who are criminally good at giving head are making up for something. Men who know how to "open you up" even more so. You swallow looking at the cock hanging between his legs, so long and heavy that it didn't spring up when he shucked his boxers. His fingers wrap around it, giving it a few good strokes with your slick as lube, and you watch the motion hungrily. He's not compensating for anything, he's just a great lay.
"How do you want me," You ask, eyes focused on the movement of his cock as he bends to grab a box from his discarded pants. He hums, tugging a length of condoms out and ripping one off.
"I'll move ya," He responds, rolling the rubber over his dick. A little shiver rushes down your spine, you like a man who knows what he's doing.
Ghost does, in fact, move you. He grabs your hips and drags you to the edge of the bed, the movement so quick and self assured it makes you giggle. His eyes crease at the edges, he's smiling you think, and he keeps smiling as he settles a knee on the bed next to you. You're quick to wrap your legs around his hips, and he's just as quick to pull them off and settle them over his arms. His big hands knead at your thighs, the extra leverage lining you up perfectly with his cock. Despite the angle, you're not using any muscles to hold yourself up, that's kind of him. Less kind when he positions himself at your entrance and tells you,
"Need you to be a good girl and take it," You gasp as he pushes into you, splitting you open more than his fingers could ever hope to, "Think you can do that?" You nod quickly, warmth dripping like honey to pool in the pit of your stomach. He didn't stretch you enough, but you think that might be the point. The ache of his cock stretching you open lets you feel every fat inch of it, every vein that drags against your walls, eased by the slick of your orgasms. Your eyes roll a little when he stops and pulls out a little. You whine, clenching to try and keep him inside, to keep that delicious stretch. Ghost groans, swears under his breath and shakes his head.
You should have anticipated him thrusting the last few inches inside. The hard thrust slapping his hips against yours forces a moan out of you. You arch in his hold, shivery, and glance between your legs as he gives you just a moment to adjust. The thick curls around his cock brush against your overworked clit and you do your best not to squirm. Not that you have much opportunity to squirm when Ghost fucks his weight down onto you. Each deep thrust hitting something achingly good inside you that makes you moan and claw at the arms holding you.
Your brows draw together looking at Ghost, he holds your gaze, his eyes piercing, dark and hungry. He's almost daring you to look away as he pounds into you. You're pinned under him, your legs forced back as he leans over you and treats you to a fountain of praise: "squeezin' me so good," "takin' it so well," "pretty little whore," "made for my cock." Your eyes roll back, the hot punch of his cock against your cervix almost too much for you. He told you to take it, you can be good for him, let him use you after he got you off so many times. That doesn't stop your legs from shaking or your voice from screaming.
There's something covetous in his eyes, something animalistic in the way he fucks you. This round is just for him, and you can take it. You tip your head back, trying to arch your back. Ghost releases his hold on your thighs and grabs you by the back of the neck, folding you back onto his cock. "No, no, sweetheart," He rumbles, leaning to press his forehead against yours, "told you, you gotta take it. Show me how a proper slag gets fucked."
Somehow this angle makes his thrusts more precise, and you truly cannot move to try and escape. You can hardly breathe, his cock fucking all the air out of your lungs. His pace just keeps getting faster, and you can see the way sweat sticks to his brow. You dig your fingers into his biceps, his thighs, anywhere you can try to get a grip as everything starts to hurt too good. You let out a squeak as the heat compounding in your stomach drips out of you. A slow trickle of orgasm that breaks into a flood on the next stroke of his cock.
It's worth it the way he growls when you clench and flutter around his cock. Ghost's thrusts becoming sharp and uncoordinated as he groans out his own orgasm. He rocks his cock into you more gently, letting your greedy pussy milk him before he lets you go to pull out. You feel like a rag doll, the way you drop and splay on the bed to shiver.
You turn over onto your stomach in an attempt not to slide off the bed as you get your bearings. Ghost is quick to scoop you up and deposit you against the pillows, the condom tied off and tossed towards the trash. You're once again moved, positioned how he likes so Ghost can pull you against his chest. You sling a leg over him and cuddle close. He smells like sweat, musky in a way that makes you want to drag your tongue along his collar.
"Twenty minutes," He tells you roughly, "I'll talk about anything but work." You hum, occupied with dragging your fingers over his squishy pecs. He flexes a little and you tip your head to look up at him.
"What?"
"We still got a dozen condoms, no sense takin' 'em home." He raises a brow. You think you're getting better at reading him, you think he's smiling. The offer is light, but sincere.
"Long as I can walk in the morning," You smile. He tips his head, like he's thinking about it.
"We'll see."
When you wake up in the morning it's to a pounding at the door. You grumble and sit up to check the time. You're alone in bed, but the shower is running. Good, he hasn't left yet. Around round six you decided you were getting Ghost's number in the morning, maybe asking him out to breakfast, perhaps even dinner. The clock says six but your brain says it's ass o'clock and whoever is banging on the door needs to gtfo.
You drag yourself out of bed and swipe Ghost's tee from the floor. A souvenir, and a nasty habit you've picked up. You root around for a pair of panties and manage to tug them on as the shower shuts off. You're making your way for the door when Ghost pops out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. You don't have time to admire the way drops of water trace over his back, or the way his hair sticks up at odd angles. He opens the door and leans against the jam.
"Dinnae dae that," Another low voice fills the room, there's something familiar about the accent, "Ya ask for a wakeup call, ya dinnae get ta glare at me."
"You're early," Ghost grumbles.
"Aye, was just so eager to see yer face LT." You pad behind Ghost and peak around his shoulder at the man in fatigues and an army green tee. You could recognize those eyes even if you didn't still feel his smile like an arrow through the heart. Icy blue in a way that makes you think he's from a different planet. Though you know it from your time in Glasgow.
"John?"
#cod x reader#x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#simon riley cod#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost cod#ghost mwii#ghost x f!reader#x f!reader#f!reader#Sin Summer#john soap mactavish#cod smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Summary: Harry and Gianna are best friends. He's been in love with her for years now, but she's dating someone else and he knows it's time to move on. When Harry finally agrees to go out on a blind date, Gianna reaches out — she just broke up with her boyfriend, and she needs her best friend.
PART ONE
AU, friends to lovers
+18 (explicit language)
7k words
I said to myself that I wouldn't do it, but I'm doing it anyway :D
Harry knocks on the bathroom door once, and then twice. He turns his head to the side and leans in, trying to catch any indication of an answer over the music blasting from downstairs.
It's hard to focus, though. The steady and rapid beat keeps banging from his ears to every corner of his brain, it echoes between the walls, and it seems to shake the ground beneath him. On top of that, even though he's on the second floor of the house, at the end of the hallway, and standing in an empty room, he can't tune out all the shouting, laughing, and cheering. All the people he walked past on his way in feel distant and muffled now, and yet he still can't hear one single thing through the white wood, which somehow makes everything even more annoying.
"Fuck," he whispers to himself, then steps away from the door.
He can still run away. He can still let her know he's busy tonight. He can still tell her that he won't be able to make it because he has somewhere else to go. Because he has someone else to see. Because he's already on his way to the opposite side of town.
He can… He still can… And also he should, right? He should tell her that. Mostly because, for once, it wouldn't even be a lie.
Holy shit.
Isn't it funny that, for the first time in three weeks, he wouldn't be lying to her? That for the first time he actually has plans to use as an excuse to not see her? That finally — finally — he's listened to his friends and agreed to move on?
And isn't it funny that, despite all that, there he is, on a Friday night, ignoring everything and everyone, and standing inside a stranger's house just because she asked him to?
Harry chuckles and rubs one hand across his face. He's so fucking stupid.
Because yes… He can still say no to her. And he should say no to her.
Except…
He shakes his head, and grabs his phone. Who's he even trying to fool? He can't say no to her. Of course he can't. C'mon. It's Gianna we're talking about. His Gianna. His best friend. The one person in the world he would do absolutely anything for. Of course he can't say no to her. Not when she says she needs him.
So… Ok. He needs to focus, instead. He needs to go straight to the point. He can't say no to her, but he can still say a quick hello and jump right into a goodbye. In and out. In a blink of an eye. He can be there for a friend, and still make it to his date.
Yes.
C'mon!
He checks her last text one more time, the one she sent forty-three minutes ago: second floor, last door. hiding in the bathroom. With a sigh, he puts his phone back into his pocket and takes a step forward, then turns his head to the side and presses his ear against the white wood. He lifts his hand in a fist, and knocks again. And again. And again. And again.
First comes some cursing, and then her loud and muffled voice. "Go away!"
Harry closes his eyes and, before he can even register what's happening, his lips have already turned up into a smile.
Gianna's voice is unmistakable. Not because there is something unusual or peculiar about it, but because it feels extremely characteristic of hers. Never too high, never too low. Always enough. It captures everything about her personality: the softness, the certainty, the brightness, the stubbornness, the kindness, the understanding, the annoyance, the reasoning, the confidence, the innocence, the strength, the—
Harry blinks his eyes open, and clears his throat.
He is there on a mission, so again, he needs to focus. Make sure she's ok, and make it in time for his date.
"You're the one who asked me to be here," he points out, raising his voice, but not actually yelling.
And then, it only takes three seconds for him to hear the click of the door being unlocked. He steps back and faces the bathroom, then takes a deep breath and pulls his curls away from his forehead.
Truth is, he hasn't seen Gianna in three weeks, and he can't deny he's dying to be around her again. To see the wrinkles on her face when she smiles, or the sparkles in her eyes when she tells him about something exciting that happened to her.
Fuck.
His stomach feels funny, and he gulps down. He absolutely hates this.
The door cracks open, but Gianna barely gives herself enough space to look outside, let alone to give him the chance to look at her.
"Is it just you?" she asks, peeking around him through the tiny gap she's created.
Harry frowns, and snorts. "No, I just met a bunch of strangers downstairs and brought them up here to check on my friend who apparently locked herself in some random bathroom and—"
"Okay, okay." She rolls her eyes and sighs, then steps aside. "I get it."
She hides behind the door, and silently offers him more room to walk in.
Harry shakes his head and presses his lips into a tight line, but shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and walks forward anyway.
The space is tiny, but enough for both of them. White walls match the toilet, the bathtub, the countertop with the sink, and the medicine cabinet. The only sources of color are the orange towel hanging on the wall next to the sink, the bottles of shampoo on a corner shelf, the yellow shower curtain crumpled on one side of the tub, and a bowl of Doritos on top of the closed toilet lid.
He quirks one corner of his mouth up, but also furrows his brows. What the hell is going on? How long has she been here? And why is she even hiding in the bathroom in the first place?
Gianna closes and locks the door, and Harry jolts.
He turns on his feet, just in time to see her twirling around, too.
She glares at him with a frown on her face and hands on her hips. Her chest moves up and down, quickly and heavily, and her nostrils flare every time she takes a deep breath in. It's easy to notice, because the green overall she's wearing does a great job at hiding everything from her belly to her midcalf, but it isn't covering that much of her cleavage. Nor the soft skin on her shoulders. Nor the smoothness of her arms. And her long necklace — the one she got for herself after her first paycheck — follows the movements of her lungs, and the big, golden pendant is this close to get lost between the swells of her breasts.
Fuck. Heat rushes through his body, and his breath gets stuck in his throat.
He can't make her uncomfortable, though. He can't let her know the thoughts that keep crossing his mind every time he looks at her body. He can't even let her know he (sometimes and unwillingly) glances at her body. Fuck no. He can't be inappropriate.
He can't, under any circumstance, cross that line with her.
He just can't.
He clears his throat and forces himself to focus on her face, then. Taking in her infuriated expression first, and then her puffy cheeks, and then her smudged makeup…
And then her red eyes…
And then her washed-out stare…
He drops his shoulders, then exhales through his nose.
Here we go again…
"What did he do now?"
She opens her mouth, then closes it. And Harry's seen that same reaction so many times before that he already knows she's changing her mind about the kind of answer she wants to give him. That she will somehow deflect the truth. And that she will once again try to protect that fucking son of a bitch.
"I just…" Gianna says, and shrugs. "I just hate him."
Harry stares at her for a moment, then tilts his chin down and looks at his feet. Ok. Maybe not what he expected her to say, but still… He shakes his head and laughs, and the sound comes out of him as humorless and exhausted as he feels.
"Right," he offers, because it's the only thing he can come up with.
Is it possible for him to feel concerned about her, but also extremely annoyed at her? Because he can swear he is.
Gianna's big pleading eyes and cherry pouty mouth have always been some of his biggest weaknesses, but he promised himself he wouldn't do this again. He promised he wouldn't interfere anymore. He promised he would let her go. And he promised he would move on.
"I do, Harry," she insists. "I truly do."
He nods, then takes one hand out of his pocket and rubs one finger under his nose. Whatever. He really isn't in the mood for this drama. Not again. Not tonight. Not when he has finally decided to move on and is supposed to be on a date instead.
"You texted," he says, dropping his arm and lifting his head to face her again. He hides his hand inside his pocket again, secretly wriggling his fingers and trying to get some of his tension off his body. "Thought something happened to you."
She looks away from him, then shrugs. Her hand falls from her hip to hang by the side of her body, and she tilts her chin down, staring at her fidgety fingers.
Harry notices the moment she swallows hard, as if burying her emotions down her throat, and his entire body goes cold.
Gianna isn't happy, and she hasn't been for such a long time. And at the end of the day, it kills him to see her like this. It kills him to see her so sad. It really does. He wants to take her pain away, he wants to hold her, and he wants to protect her. And yet he can't. Not how he would like to, at least. And he doesn't know how to help her anymore. He doesn't know what else he can do. Or what else he can say. He's already tried everything and, to be honest, he feels as if he has completely run out of options. As if he has failed her.
He's powerless, and he's useless.
And he's also really fucking lost.
"I hate him," she finally says, glancing at him and repeating herself. Ignoring his attempt to change the subject.
And for a moment, Harry can swear he sees a flicker of certainty inside her. He sees it, and he feels it.
Maybe…
Yeah. Maybe she finally means it. Maybe this time is actually different.
Maybe she finally realized that fucking son of a bitch isn't worth a second of her day and she's finally going to—
No.
Harry looks away.
He'll just never learn the lesson, will he?
"I mean it."
"Right. Ok, then."
"Ugh," Gianna grunts, then clenches her teeth. "Stop saying that!"
"Saying what?" he asks, walking to the bathtub.
"Right," Gianna mimics.
Her attempt to imitate his voice and accent is endearing, and as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, he also purses his lips to hold back a smile.
"It's truly annoying," she adds. "Especially when you say it like that."
He places his elbows on his knees and tilts his chin up, looking at her.
Her arms are crossed, and she is glaring at him again.
Harry shrugs. "Like what?"
Gianna shakes her head and looks away—first at the floor, then at the sink. It takes her a moment to sigh and shrug, and when she finally speaks, her voice is only a weak whisper. "Like you don't believe in me anymore."
And just like that, Harry's entire body softens.
He didn't mean to make her think that. He didn't mean to hurt her or to be mean to her. He didn't mean to make her sad. He just… He just can't understand the situation. He just doesn't know what to do about it, and he also doesn't know how to bring it up to her anymore.
There is nothing in the world he wishes more than for those words to be true. For her to actually hate that fucking guy and leave him for good. So of course he wants to believe her, and he would if he hadn't heard the same story countless times before. But what good getting his hopes up for nothing, once again, would even do?
"Gi…" Harry says, stretching one arm to poke her knee. She flinches away, and he sighs. "Gi, c'mon, look at me."
"No."
He leans forward, stretching both of his arms now. When he still doesn't reach her, he lifts his bum a little and groans, then finally grabs her waist and pulls her closer. "Just come here."
Gianna doesn't fight him, letting him guide her until she is standing in front of him and in between his knees. Still, she doesn't look at him, keeping her arms crossed under her chest and focusing on the yellow curtain to his left, instead.
Truthfully speaking, her stubbornness is usually one of the traits Harry enjoys the least, because it tends to make her act like a grumpy, annoying little girl. On the other hand, it is also one of the things he envies the most about her, because it drives her forward to achieve whatever she wants — like when she plays it in her favor to get interviews or exclusive content for the magazine she works at.
Besides, Gianna isn't perfect, Harry knows that. And he doesn't expect her to be. So he humors her childish behavior sometimes. Like right now, when he's determined to bury himself inside her eyes. Tilting his chin up, dropping his head back and straightening his back just to look at her. Searching for her sight even if she won't give in and share it with him.
"Gi," he calls, as careful, soft, and tender as he can be. "Hey… I'm sorry, ok?"
She bites her lip, and shrugs.
And because she's also old and mature enough to act like an adult, he doesn't hold himself back from trying to put some sense into her.
"You gotta understand where I'm coming from, yeah? We've been here before, and—"
"I know, but—"
"No, you don't know, Gi. So let me say this."
She sighs, but peeks at him through the corner of her eyes and nods.
It is more than enough for him, and he gives her a half-smile, placing the tip of his fingers on the side of her knees—just to hold her somehow, just to make sure she won't run away from him before he can explain himself.
"We've been through this thousands of times, and I fucking hate when you still stay with him every single one of them. Because I hate the guy."
"I know sometimes you don't like him, but—"
"Gi, no. Listen to what I'm saying. I don't like that guy from work who chews too loudly and makes boring jokes. But Miles? I'm telling you I fucking hate him."
Gianna drops her shoulders, and her arms fall to her sides.
"Harry…" She dips her chin down and draws her eyebrows together, finally fully looking at him. "But that's… I mean… He's my boyfriend."
A new kind of heat flushes through his body, and Harry tenses.
Is she being fucking serious right now?
Is she actually going to defend him?
Is she going to stand up for him or something?
He closes his eyes for a second and clenches his jaw, taking a deep breath and trying his best to keep himself together.
He can't do this anymore. He can't keep running in circles. He can't keep dodging the truth just to protect their friendship. Mostly because, at this point, he isn't really protecting any of them anymore.
"I know," he says, blinking his eyes open and meeting her gaze one more time. "I know he is. But you're my best friend and I love you, and I hate the way he treats you. I hate that we can't see each other without it turning into a fight between you two. I hate that he won't support the things you love. I hate that he's always tricking you into changing your mind about things. I hate that you're always sad because of him. I hate that he's always making you cry. So yeah, Gi… I know he's your boyfriend, but I hate him. And I'm not sorry for that."
For a long moment, there's nothing but silence between them. Music and people are completely muffled by the walls and the closed door, almost making it easy to forget there is even a party going on out there.
Harry sits there patiently. Watching her. Waiting for her.
And Gianna watches him back. Attentive. Curious. Puzzled. Thoughtful. Scanning him with those beautiful, big, meaningful eyes. Standing right in front of him, between his knees. So close that, if he faced forward, he would only need to lean a couple inches to kiss her body. And she smells heavenly, too, like she always does when she's wearing that same perfume — fresh, captivating, sexy.
The woman of his dreams, embarrassingly as it may sound. And embarrassingly as it may be.
"Is that…" she murmurs, so quietly she really doesn't mean for anyone but him to hear. "I mean, is he the reason why you've been avoiding me these past few weeks?"
He closes his eyes for half a moment, then looks back at her. "You noticed, huh?"
"You thought I wouldn't?"
"I don't know." He shrugs. "Wasn't trying to make it obvious."
"Well, it sucked, okay? One morning I even cried listening to you on the radio."
Harry tilts his head, and pulls the corners of his mouth into a smile. "No you didn't."
She rolls her eyes, holding back a smile of her own. "Trust me, I wish it was a lie."
"Ugh." He dips his head down for a moment, rolling his shoulders before looking up again. "'M sorry, Gi."
"Yeah…" She crosses her arms once again, pressing them against her stomach and clenching her hands into fists. "I'm sorry, too."
She looks away, and he taps the tip of his fingers on the back of her knees. Already missing her undivided attention.
"What happened, Gi?" he carefully asks. "How long have you been hiding here?"
"I… I don't know. An hour? Maybe more…"
Harry sighs. "Gi… C'mon."
"I know."
"You see how insane it is, right?" he asks, staring directly at her just to observe her reaction. To make sure he isn't pushing too much. To make sure he's actually helping her, and not making it worse. "Hiding in someone's bathroom for over an hour while he's out there throwing a party for people half his age?"
She closes her eyes, then bites her bottom lip and nods.
She knows.
She actually knows.
Whatever happened this time, it finally woke her up. It finally made her see it.
He drops his shoulders, scanning her face.
Then why is she still here? Why does she keep waiting around for him? Why does she keep putting herself in this position? Over and over again? What is so special about this fucking guy that is worth all the pain he constantly puts her through?
And most importantly, what is it going to take for her to finally realize that she deserves so much better than to be treated like… This?
What can he do to help her? What's left for him to try? If he's run out of ideas, if he's said everything he could say to her, what difference can he still make?
Maybe…
No.
A thought creeps in, but he doesn't want to acknowledge it. He doesn't want to engage with it.
Although he should, because it is a new idea, and it is something he hasn't tried yet. It includes being honest, not filtering his thoughts just to make sure she won't end up hating him, and stop playing safe. It also forces him to finally take a chance, and to finally stop holding himself back.
It's too risky, though. Especially right now, when she's so vulnerable and still dating the guy.
Ok… So maybe not the entire truth, then? Maybe just the facts she needs to hear to break away from whatever curse that asshole spread on her.
And he can try that. He did it just minutes ago, when he told her how much he hates the guy — and that seemed to work more than fine so far, right?
Yes.
Ok, then.
He slides his tongue between his lips, and rolls his shoulders. And then, keeping his eyes on her, he finally says, "Gi, you deserve a lot better than this."
Gianna doesn't seem to react, although the way her breasts suddenly pop up into his eye-line suggests she's holding all the breath in her chest.
He insists, then — mostly because he knows she's actively listening to him, but also because he can't allow his fucking hormones distract him from what's really important right now.
"You deserve to be treated so much better than the way he treats you."
She stays still, frozen in front of him.
So he places his hands on the back of her knees and gently squeezes her. Briefly, though. Just one time. Just to make sure he gets her attention when he asks, "You know that, right?"
Gianna shrugs, then. And Harry catches the moment her bottom lip trembles. And how her breath quivers when she exhales.
"Hey," he says, squeezing her again. "Sorry, love. Don't wanna make you cry."
He's crossing the line.
He shouldn't touch her like this.
He knows that.
Even if it's an innocent hold on top of her clothes. Even if she barely notices it. Even if it means nothing to her.
Because he notices. He feels her body under his palm, and he feels the way her flesh sinks when he digs each one of his fingertips to get her attention.
And he notices how she fits perfectly into his grip. And now he can't stop thinking how there isn't even an inch of her body he doesn't want to squeeze and feel just like this, but also way, way more.
"I'm not—It's not…" Gianna says (or tries to say).
Harry blinks, and loosens up his craving fingers.
Gianna shakes her head and opens her eyes, looking at him again. "He didn't look for me, y'know? I've been here all this time and he didn't… Not even a text."
Harry doesn't know what to say to that, so he brushes his thumb up and down once. Trying to comfort her. Trying to sooth her. Trying to remind her he is there, and he is listening to her. He is taking care of her.
"Something could've happened to me and he just… He just doesn't care at all."
He repeats the movement of his fingers one more time, and when she still doesn't seem to mind or be bothered by it, he repeats it again. Over and over. Drawing small, tiny circles on the back of her knees.
"'M sorry, love."
"I hate him."
And this time, Harry genuinely believes her.
"Me too," he says, keeping the steady stroke of his thumbs.
"He's just so fucking stupid."
"He is. Most fucking stupid guy I've—"
"And he broke up with me!"
Harry shuts his mouth.
What?
He did what?!
"It was so… Humiliating…" Gianna laughs, painfully, shortly and bitterly. And then the first tear rolls down her cheek, and although she quickly wipes it off, it's like she can't stop the next ones from following the exact same path.
Holy shit.
"Gi," Harry whispers.
She shakes her head and looks down to his chest, or maybe to his thighs, or just to anywhere in between them that doesn't include his eyes. She sniffs once, and, amidst new tears, she finally shares with him the one thing she's been avoiding to face the entire night.
"I don't… I don't even know what I did this time. Honestly… He came early to set everything up, so Crystal gave me a ride and… And then when we arrived he just… I just went to say hello to him… I didn't… He just broke up with me, H… Out of nowhere, and in front of everyone."
Jesus Christ.
There are suddenly a lot of things to unpack.
Too many things to point out. Too many things to ask.
Questions.
Yes.
So many questions.
Hundreds of them.
But the first one he blurts out is, "Crystal is here?"
Gianna sniffs, rubbing both hands on her cheeks, and nods.
"Angela too?"
"Yes."
Harry frowns. "Well, and where are they right now?"
"I don't know."
He can feel his muscles twitching. The urge to crack his knuckles and run after those two little b—
"Were they there when it happened?"
Gianna nods.
"And do they know you're here? Did they at least try to reach out to you?"
"I don't—I don't know, H…" she murmurs, dropping her arms to her sides and fidgeting with her fingers. "And to be honest I don't care… I don't want to see them… They'll tell me it was nothing… That he didn't mean it… And then they'll say I should forgive him and I just… I don't… I can't…"
Harry shuffles on the bathtub, and suddenly he's awfully aware of how much he'll, sooner or later, regret sitting there for so long. Still, right now, as he leans just a little bit closer to her, that's definitely the least of his worries.
"You can't forgive him, Gi," he pleads. "Not this time. Not after all this."
"I know… I know I can't… I just…"
She shakes her head, and Harry twitches his fingers around her knees. Digging them slightly, begging her not to stop. Not now. Not after all the progress they've made.
"What? Tell me… I'm here, yeah? I'm listening."
She takes one hand to her forehead and rubs the tips of her fingers from one side to the other. As if trying to slide the words out of her brain.
"I'm just… Scared."
"Ok…" Harry tilts his head, searching for her eyes. "Scared of what, love? Of him? Because you know I'll never let—"
"No." She shakes her head. "I'm not scared of him… It's not—Ugh… Look, I don't want to keep doing this anymore, okay? I really don't. But I'm… I'm scared I'll end up calling him anyway… And I know I shouldn't, I know that, but I… I mean, I don't know… I just… I don't know…"
"Ok, just breathe, yeah?" He moves his thumbs up and down again, foolishly hoping his touch will be enough to soothe her.
"I don't want to be that girl," she says, then takes a deep breath in, and lets the air out through her mouth. "I swear I don't."
"Ok… That's—"
"I'm scared I'll be, tho. And I don't want to. I don't—"
"Gi, hey… Listen to me."
She stops talking, and she also glances back at him. The look on her face is so scared, though, that it makes Harry's chest hurt.
He sighs, and asks. "Why would you call him, tho, hm?"
Gianna shrugs.
"If you don't want to… And if you're saying you know you shouldn't… Why are you so scared you'll call him anyway?"
"I don't know…"
She looks away again, and Harry notices that, unlike him, the only way she can get the words out of her mind is if she isn't staring at him.
"It's just what I did every other time before… He'll break up with me, then I'll get lonely at home and call him. And then he'll—"
"Wait." Harry frowns. "Just... Hold on a minute. This isn't the first time?"
She looks down to the floor, and shakes her head.
"How many times did he break up with you?"
Gianna laughs — humorlessly, tirelessly, unwillingly.
"Please don't make me answer that."
Harry freezes for a moment, and cautiously watches her. He examines her. Studies her. Trying to find any of the sparks she's usually radiating off her. Or any traces of joy. Or at least some peace in between everything that's happening. But she's just so sad. And she also looks so ashamed, and so scared, that he just… He can't do it anymore.
Honestly.
It's beyond whatever he can handle right now.
So he squeezes the back of her knees and pushes her closer, then leans in and places his head against her belly.
He closes his eyes, and sighs.
Holly shit.
Harry doesn't want to be dramatic, ok? So he'll never admit this out loud, but this shit physically pains him. It just does. He can't grasp his mind around the fact that getting into fights with her, making her cry, and diminishing her ideas wasn't enough for that fucking asshole. That he still needed to mess around with her feelings, and that he got away with it for so long that she now believes she'll end up crawling back to him no matter what.
He also hates the fact that he never knew "breaking up" was a common thing between them. That Gianna wasn't just forgiving all the childish and fucked up things Miles did, but that she was actively calling him up and asking to go back to him. And he doesn't blame her for that, ok? He doesn't. He loves her. So he just… Y'know…
He just…
"Fuck," he murmurs, clenching his teeth. "That fucking son of a bitch."
Gianna breathes in, and Harry feels the way her stomach slowly fills up with air, moving his head along with it. And then she exhales out, heavily and through her nose, and her stomach empties again, and Harry's head follows the movement again.
"I'm sorry, H," she murmurs, too. "I didn't—"
He shakes his head, burying his forehead on the fabric of her overall, and lifts his hands slightly, just an inch above the back of her knees. Being mindful to not overstep, but also deeply struggling to contain himself.
"Please don't apologize," he says, intentionally keeping his voice down. "You didn't do anything wrong."
She places her hands on the back of his head. Softly and gently. Almost like she's unsure of what she's doing.
"It feels like I did, tho."
"You didn't. I promise you didn't."
Gianna doesn't seem to have an answer for that, and she also doesn't seem to know what to do with her hands. Tapping his hair as if she's trying to figure out where to put them.
Harry brushes his thumbs up and down, just like before — although he's now hesitantly venturing himself on the back of her thighs, and that embarrassingly feels way more dangerous and thrilling than whatever he did with (or to) any other person up until then.
And it seems to have some sort of effect on her, too, because she relaxes underneath him. Her muscles seem to loosen up, and she finally drops the weight of her palms on the back of his head.
Next thing he knows, Gianna's already threading her fingers through his hair. Running her nails over his scalp, and entertaining herself while fiddling with his curls.
Harry smiles, and slows down under her touch. His breathing follows the rhythm of her hands, and his heart is loud and heavy, but it doesn't seem to squash his chest anymore. It's not painful anymore.
Time goes by unnoticed. And it's like the world around them doesn't even exist anymore.
It's good.
And it's new.
And it's peaceful.
And it's refreshing.
So much so that, when Gianna speaks again, even the pain and the sadness in her voice sound lighter.
"I hate myself for calling him," she says, keeping up with the strokes on his head, "and I really don't want to do it again."
Harry nods.
"I'm scared I will anyway, H…"
He squeezes her once, just to let her know he's listening, and then he rummages through his brain, trying to find something useful to say.
He can't say he understands her fear, because he isn't sure he does. What he knows is that he always struggled to say no to Gianna, and that no matter how hard he tried he was never able to let her go. But he can't compare both situations, can he? After all, she never played with his feelings, because she doesn't know about them. Miles, on the other hand, was pretty much aware of the relationship they were in. Miles knew what he was doing, and Miles actively chose to string her along.
So, no, it is not the same thing.
On top of that… Harry can't imagine her calling him out of nowhere. Not when she's so sure she doesn't want him anymore. Not when she's so sure she hates him.
Unless… Well, is she still in love with him? Is that why she thinks she'll go back to him? Because she loves him so much that she'll miss him?
No… C'mon… She doesn't.
Does she?
Shit.
Certainly, it's not his place to answer that, but it doesn't feel like she's in love with the guy. It feels like she's used to being with him, but because she doesn't know anything better.
Besides, he's never seen her so determined to put an end to the relationship. This is the first time he's seen it written all over her face. It's also the first time she's called him because Miles broke up with her, and the first time she even told him it happened. So how… How can she still be so unsure of herself?
Harry pulls away and blinks his eyes open. Adjusting to the bright cool light, and also searching for her eyes.
Gianna slides her hands off his hair and rests them on his shoulders. Holding herself onto him while she tilts her chin down and meets his stare.
"I know you said you called him every other time before, but… Did you also feel like this the other times?"
She frowns, and it's enough for him to already know the answer. Still, he waits for her, and lets her come to a conclusion on her own.
"I don't… Think so? I mean, no. It feels… Different this time."
Fuck yeah it does.
Just look at them!
Harry wants to chuckle, but he knows he can't, and he knows he shouldn't, so he breathes in deeply and shrugs.
"So maybe this time it will be different, yeah?" he asks, then takes a chance and drags his palms another inch further up on the back of her thighs.
Gianna takes a tiny step closer to him, and he's more than happy to take that as a little victory.
"Maybe… But I don't know if I have so much faith in myself."
"Why not, Gi? If you know he's such an idiot, and you know you don't wanna go back to him, why do you still think you will?"
"Because I'm that stupid, H. Because apparently I can't—"
"Stop," he says, and squeezes the back of her thighs
Gianna gasps softly, and widens her eyes.
Shit.
Although Harry always tries to be gentle, he knows his grip ended up being tighter than he originally meant to. He can feel it on the way his nails are digging into her flesh, and on the way he's also flexing his arms.
Part of him wants to apologize and put some distance between them before she can do it herself. Before she realizes what's happening and tell him to fuck off.
The other part, though, knows it's too late to go back from whatever he already did tonight, and that so far the truth is the only road that seems to be actually taking him somewhere.
So Harry straightens up his back and keeps his hands in the exact same place, firm and steady.
He doesn't take anything back, nor pretends it isn't actually happening.
"I can't let you do this to yourself, ok?" he says. "Because you're not stupid."
Gianna blinks.
"You're the most fascinating woman I've ever met," he adds, because now that he's started he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself anymore. "You're kind, and smart, and creative, and funny."
He loosens up one hand and pulls it away, but only to take it up to her face and brush his thumb under her eyes.
"You're so beautiful, Gi," he says, cleaning some of her smudged makeup.
"So, so beautiful…" He strokes her cheek, and then under her other eye. "That you're just… You're breathtaking."
She blinks again, and again, and again. As if trying to absorb the information not only through her ears, but also through her eyes.
And Harry likes the way she's listening to him, the way she's leaning closer. The way she's softening in front of him. He doesn't know what it means, but he knows he likes it. So he keeps going, choosing to only stop if she asks him to.
"And you're constantly blowing my mind, for whatever reason." He drops his hand again, placing it on the back of her thigh, where it feels they belong now. "Your ideas, your point of views, your actions… Everything, Gi. Everything you do is just… Amazing. You are amazing."
She flickers her eyes around his face, and Harry gives her time to do so. He waits for her. Brushing his thumbs up and down. Subtly caressing the back of her thighs.
"I don't… I don't know what to say."
"It's ok…" He smiles. Softly. Fondly. "You don't have to say anything."
Gianna shrugs. She picks his t-shirt between her fingers, fidgeting with it while still watching him.
"Kinda feels like I have to. I mean, those are… Y'know… Really nice things to say about someone."
"I know. Yes." He smiles bigger, and nods. "Want me to say them again?"
She rolls her eyes, but it's easy to catch the way her mouth tries to curl into a smile as well. Or the way some cheerfulness brightens up her face.
And there she is again…
Harry tilts his head, hooked and charmed by the way she looks. By the woman she is.
Chest warm and fuzzy.
Head over the moon.
Pathetically in love.
"I think very highly of you, Gi."
"You do?"
"Mhmm… You should know that by now."
She drums her fingers on his shoulders, and he brushes his thumbs on the back of her thighs.
"This is… I mean…"
"What?"
"Ugh." She groans, throwing her head back and glancing at the ceiling. "I don't know. I'm just really confused right now."
"Oh. It's... It's ok," he says, eyes suddenly too focused and mind too distracted.
Her neck is pretty, isn't it? And her skin looks the sweetest, softest place he could lay his lips on.
Harry swallows.
He looks down, and meets her chest — which only makes it worse.
Fuck.
He closes his eyes, and shakes his head.
When he looks at her again, she's thankfully already facing down and staring back at him. Making it easier for him to talk again.
"Don't wanna confuse you right now," he says, then clears his throat. "It's not the right time to reveal all of my thoughts about you, anyway."
"All of your thoughts about me? What—How many do you have?"
Harry chuckles. She's so fucking cute.
"Not today, yeah?"
She narrows her eyes. "Harry…"
He shrugs. "Look, all you need to know right now is that you're not stupid. And I know you're scared, but this time you have me by your side, yeah? And I won't let that son of a bitch hurt you again. Ok?"
"I appreciate that, but you don't have to—"
"Gi. Ok?"
She sighs.
"Okay."
"Good."
A beat of silence echoes between them.
Gianna and Harry fill it by staring at each other. Consciously ignoring the fact that time is ticking by. And also ignoring the fact that, although they probably should feel awkward by whatever is going on right now, they actually don't feel awkward at all.
And then clattering and shattering thunder from downstairs, and Gianna and Harry jolt. They both turn their heads to face the door, waiting for something to happen. And when people seem to erupt into desperate cheering and yelling, they both turn again, and look at each other. Again.
"Do you think it'll be okay if I spend the night at yours?" she asks. "Most of my things are at Miles' and I… I don't know. To be honest I don't want to spend the night at my place."
Harry nods. "Yeah, of course. You can sleep back at mine."
He rolls his shoulders, then tilts his head to one side, and to the other.
"Do you think it'll be ok if we leave this place right now, tho?" he asks, brushing his palms up and down the back of her thighs, then sliding them to gently tap the sides of her legs. "Can't stand this place anymore."
"Yeah." Gianna smiles, and squeezes his shoulders. "We should go."
"Great." He squeezes her legs, and brushes his thumbs in wide, slow circles. "Good."
She nods and slides her hands down his shoulders, letting her fingers brush down his chest. "Mhmm…"
"We'll go, then." He spreads his legs even wider and nudges her forward, holding her legs tightly while forcing her to take a step closer.
"We will." She draws her hands back to his shoulders, fully holding onto him. "Whenever you want to."
Harry closes his eyes and leans forward, pressing his face to her stomach, and then a kiss on top of her clothes. Without pulling away, he groans against the green fabric, then murmurs, "You're not making this any easier for me, y'know?"
Gianna chuckles, allowing her hands to timidly explore his back. "I swear to God I have no idea what's going on right now."
He pulls away, tilting his chin up and looking at her. "We'll have plenty of time to figure it out. But right now, let's just get the fuck out of here. Please."
"Okay," she says, and smiles, but doesn't make any attempt to actually move.
"Ugh." He grabs her waist and pushes her off, standing up and stumbling along with her feet as they both step away from the bathtub.
She bites her lip and giggles, and it honestly takes absolutely everything inside him to not kiss her right then and there.
"C'mon," he says, finding her hand and holding it tightly. "Let's take this back to mine."
Hiii :)
Someone sent me a request back in 2022 and I came up with 85% of this. Then last week I decided to finish it and finally post it (always better late than never, huh? hehe).
There are soooo many things I have in mind for this one, so many things I haven't explored yet, and so many things that I intentionally left unanswered... But for now, this right here, is all I have, and I wanted to share it anyway :) I'm basically just challenging myself and my overthinking, so let's hope I don't regret it lol.
ANYWAY, thanks for reading.
Dani.
401 notes
·
View notes
Text
scream your heart out (m)
🔪pairing: fem!reader x seventeen (???)
🔪genre: horror, slasher, smut
🔪tags: DISCLAIMIER!!! MAY NOT SUIT MOST AUDIENCES, Graphic sexual and violent imagery color coded in pink, abrupt changes in text color, features/mentions members (Chan, Seungkwan, Wonwoo, Minghao, Seungcheol, Seokmin, Junhui, Soonyoung, Joshua), established relationships, scream au!seventeen, Hybristophilia, erotophonophilia, homicidophilia, graphic images, mention panic attacks, smoking, mentions disfigurement of faces, severed body parts, knives, guns, threatening phone calls, face masks (horror), knife wielding, blood, gore, death/murder, knife play, bloody handjobs, cum mixing with blood, consensual sex but nonconsensual murder, HONESTLY SOME REALLY FUCKED UP SHIT AND IM SORRY BUT YALL SHOULD BE READING THE WARNINGS, sexual innuendos, kitchen sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex, cream pies, cuck! (??) member, voyeurism, exhibitionism, breeding kink, PLS LET ME KNOW IF IM MISSING ANYTHING PLS
🔪word count: 6.8k
🔪summary: you and your friends get caught up in a classic horror slasher movie, only it's in real life. Now you're off to fend for yourselves in Seungcheol's million dollar home. The question is, did you keep them out, or did you just lock them in?
🔪author note: thank you @multi-kpop-fanfics and @wonwussy for beta reading for me <3. here's some of their notes “I’m scratching my face to not fucking scream” “WELL SHIT BRO WHAT THE FUCK” -Zeta “It definitely does capture that slasher essence” -SJ this was so fun yet mind numbing to write but this is way more extreme than anything I’ve ever written like I lost a lot of sanity writing this. FR one of the most fucked up things I’ve ever written. I hope it was worth it. ENJOY EVERYONE and even tho it came out late HAPPY HALLOWEEN
Ever since the murders over a week ago, everyone in town has been on edge. All including the individuals most closely involved.
You had lost three core members of your eight.
Joshua, someone you’ve known since grade school who was sliced open from the back before being stabbed 8 times to the point of excessive bleeding. He had just gone out to walk his dog, the poor creature being the only reason they found his body at all. If not for the dog’s bloody paws, and the trail of blood they left behind finding help, Joshua’s cadaver would’ve lost deep in the woods.
And then Chan, your long-time boyfriend, was stabbed fifteen times in the chest. His face was so disfigured from obvious violence and what looked to be burn scars, that he was practically unrecognizable if not for the fact he died in his own home. Police are still looking for his severed arms and legs to this day with no luck.
And finally, Seungkwan, who hadn’t died but lost to the paranoia festering in his blood like a disease. That caused him to take the train to the furthest destination possible to attempt to escape death if at all possible, leaving the rest of you with only the reassuring texts he left in his wake.
All that was left was you, Seokmin, Seungcheol, Minghao, and Wonwoo; the core five.
“Okay, absolutely no one is leaving this house for the time being. Until the psycho is caught behind bars, dead, or whatever the fuck! We’re safe here.”
Seungcheol, the eldest, did just as expected: contacted the rest of you into a personal prison. Luckily, he was loaded. The prison happened to be six thousand square feet of space with countless rooms, amenities, and a housekeeper to boot. From the looks of it, it’s paradise, but it’s definitely a prison.
“Holy shit, you have an indoor basketball court?”
A prison with an indoor basketball court. And a pool apparently.
Seokmin wasted no time to enjoy these features, breaking out of his clothes and cannonballing in his underwear. If you knew any better, Seokmin didn’t even look like he went through any trauma at all. It looked like every other day for him.
“There's a murderer and you’re doing butterfly strokes?” You asked, baffled.
The golden man scoffed, reaching the edge of the pool and resting against it with his forearms. “What am I gonna do? Wallow, crying to my mom, worrying about dying, and not taking advantage of this gorgeous mansion we’re staying in?”
“Thank you, Seokmin,” Seungcheol grinned.
Seokmin winked back at him, “Of course, daddy.”
“How are you both so unserious about all this?”
Wonwoo left a kind hand against your shoulder, looking back at you with warm eyes and a small smile. “They’re grieving. Just in their own way.”
You sighed, crossing your arms. “They’re being ridiculous. We shouldn’t be here. We need to be at the police station or something.”
“You were there when I got the call. The creepy voice said no police or you all die. Remember?”
You shuddered, hands over your sides to relieve your chilled skin. “Of course I do, but we’re sitting ducks here. This isn’t any better. We need protection.”
It was Seungcheol’s turn to scoff then. He strutted in front of you, flaunting his wing span before flexing his arms and then crossing them over his chest. “Well, you have me.”
“And me,” Seokmin joined. “Pure muscle right here.”
“Maybe pure laughing gas, not sure about muscle. We’re actually living in a horror movie right now and you’re all making jokes.”
“Hey,” Wonwoo stroked your head as his soothingly deep voice serenaded you, “Don’t say that. We’ll make it out of here.”
His arms come around you, forearms pressed against your collarbones, and his chin crooked over your shoulder. “You have me too. I would run through that knife before it could get to you.”
You genuinely smile for the first time being there, your hand stroking over his embrace. Wonwoo delicately kissed the temple of your forehead, reminding you what it was like to be constantly adored.
You were grateful for what he had become in your life. Wonwoo had kept you company in your time of need. In the absence of Chan. He had come to your house with whatever he thought you might need, lent you his shoulder that you could cry on, lent his ears so that he could listen, lent his body that you could heal. In more ways than one.
“You’re right. You are.” You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his body and meeting his eyes framed in specs of hard plastic. “You’re the first person I can sacrifice if we face them head to head.”
He mused at you. “Ooh, now look who’s pulling jokes.”
“Who said I was joking?”
“You two are disgustingly cute,” Minghao commented coming through the back door. “Horror movie rules: they get killed while having sex.”
You punched the new face right in the arm, watching him scurry away to your other friends laughing.
“Not funny, Hao.”
Minghao sneers at you, a jester smile still on his face. “Ease up, princess. Wonwoo, watch your girl.”
“Only because she’s so pretty to look at,” he briefly grinned down at you before directing his attention to Minghao sternly, “but come on. We’re all a little psyched right now. Cool it with the murder talk. Alright?”
Wonwoo pulled you aside into the dining area, ignoring the careless laughter outside. His thumb stroked against your knuckles, lips pressing sweetly against your cheeks. His grin sunk deeper in his cheeks the further he made it past your jaw and then down your neck. He felt your throat vibrate against his lips. “Wonwoo…”
“I can’t have all these guys get you heated like this. That’s my job,” he teased with a rasp.
You slightly pushed him off, your arms swung over his shoulders. “You’re so ridiculous right now.”
“Anything to put that smile on your face.”
His lips reconnected with your neck, nipping at your skin. His humming sent tingles down your spine, and he took your body to press you against the side of the counter. Your hands grasped his baggy shirt, lip close to his ear, fanning your breath against his face. You smiled like a girl in love. Obsessed. “Daddy…”
“I love it when you call me that,” he mumbled, just as love-struck, if not more. Your giggles brought out the pink on Wonwoo’s ears and cheeks while tightening the groin of his pants. You noticed immediately, cupping it in your palm, and running your finger along the seam. Your eyes skimmed over his taken expression, leaning your full weight into him. “I know there’s something else you really love.”
“Do you now?”
You nodded, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “But do you really want to do it here? Risk getting caught?”
He leaned into your touch, allowing your fingers to take apart his pants. “Try new things right? Like you always say. Plus you’re scared. Gonna turn that fear into pleasure. Make you feel good, just what my baby deserves.”
“You're so good to me, Daddy,” you moaned.
His hand finds the hem of your shorts, pulling them down to expose yourself to the cold air. He fingered through your panties and slid two digits through your folds. He felt your breath hitch as he squeezed your clit, eliciting your soft whines. “You’re so wet down there, baby.”
“Just waiting for daddy to fuck me where anyone can find us and watch.”
Wonwoo eagerly pulled down his pants, kicking them and yours aside, but not without pocketing your underwear. He lifted you up slightly from the ground, his exposed cock hitting at your hip. “Look what you do to me.”
Your throat went dry at the sight of him, hand aching to wrap your hand around his girth and have him shoved inside you.
He didn’t let you wait a second long, and pushed in slowly inch by inch, burying himself in your pussy until he was nearly balls deep. You grasped his shoulder in a gasp, savoring the fire burning in your stomach. The girth of his cock stretched your molten walls, allowing them to melt all around his cock as he spread your legs. You writhe in his embrace, your limbs closing around his lean and toned build, already blissful from the few seconds of him being inside you.
Wonwoo’s words kissed your lips, flushed your skin, and left a permanent smile on your face. It swelled pride in his chest, better than any physical trophy would have. His hips slowly rolled against yours, letting you adjust to his size. He massaged the flesh of your side through his fingers, mentally reassuring himself you were his and his alone, but his names on your lips became more than proof.
Your hips buckled towards him in heat, matching his pace before the carnal side of him decided to fuck you like an animal. His cock then plunged sharply inside you, and then again, a whimper coming out of your lips. Your hips stuttered the harder he pounded, arching your back, you felt his hand above your ass, pushing you against him.
“Daddy…”
He lost control when it came to you, addicted—religious—the second your body came in contact with his. He loved how your fingers ran through his hair, not caring how his glasses fell off his face in the process. With drool out of the corner of his lips, he could feel the blood rush up to the surface of your skin, making him feel warm at home inside you. Throbbing, he only got harder feeling how perfectly snug you were, pricking his clammy skin with goosebumps as he bottomed out.
“You’re sopping, precious,” he murmured with a sly grin.
He had you begging, flustered, and beautiful. Your hand clasped his face as your other arm looped around his neck, swallowing his lips, anxious and thirsty for his breath. You craved every part of him viscerally. “Cum in me, daddy. Please…”
He scoffed, lips ghosting over yours. “Will you take every bit of daddy’s cum, hmm? Hold my cum inside you.”
You nodded gingerly. “Yes, yes. I promise, daddy. Give it to me please, I want you to spill your cum inside me and make me yours…”
“Hold on to me.”
You obliged, met with the hot stream of his climax, yours quick to follow. He embraced your sides, devouring your lips and muffling your whines. His loads pumped into you in erratic thrusts, fucking his cum back into you and making sure you drained him of every ounce. His fingers dug into your flesh, feeling you just come apart for him, undoing the tension that festered earlier.
But that tension was needed. It was necessary to survive. Everyone let themselves forget the current predicament, basking in the glow of the sunset until dinner time arrived. Despite the housekeeper that supposedly exists, she hadn’t been around since all of you stepped foot in the house, like a ghost presence. Seungcheol scrambled to find her—reminding you of his peculiar obsession with the woman—as he wondered when dinner would be ready since a rise in temperature or a savory scent couldn’t be found in the kitchen.
“That’s strange. She’d be finished with a whole chicken by now,” the homeowner commented, noticeably picking his nails.
“Aww,” Seokmin groaned, “Well, is there anything else to eat?”
“I mean…you can look around.”
You narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief. “This is your house. You don’t know what you have in your own house?”
“You try navigating a five-story home with countless cabinets!”
“Buy a smaller house, you prick!”
“Guys!” Minghao chimed in. “Breathe in…and out. We’ll just find food. Seungcheol, your maid, your house, your search. She’s probably fine.”
Your hands slammed against those pristine marble counters. “We are NOT splitting up right now. This is what the killer wants. She’s probably already dead and we’re fucked.”
Wonwoo came to your side, laying a cool calm over your shoulder, and rubbed your sides. You let yourself melt in his touch, his sweet voice soothing you effectively.
Seokmin sat up from his stool, “Okay, okay. I will help Seungcheol and you guys stick together.”
“That’s still splitting up!”
“Better than alone.” Seungcheol rebutted. “You guys stay.”
Despite your protests, they went on their search. Your head banged against Wonwoo’s chest, muttering in anguish about how everything was going wrong and that it’d only get worse. Meanwhile, Minghao seemed to regain some of that tension but masked the fear with the bright light of his phone, scrolling through TikTok. You didn’t know what was more annoying, sensation of imminent death possibly behind any door, or the same five songs replaying on Minghao’s feed.
After 15 minutes when they were nowhere to be seen, your patience had run thin. You picked yourself up from Wonwoo’s lap and dusted yourself off. “Fuck this. We’re finding them.”
You felt his hand on your shoulder, a concerned glow in his gaze. “Babe, hey. They’ve got it. Trust them.”
“Wonwoo, you know I can’t do that. Let’s just find them, hmm? Together?”
“Not a bad idea,” Minghao agreed. “Better in groups right? We go together, eliminate us as any potential suspects.”
Your boyfriend sighed, collected your hand, and laced his fingers through yours. “Fine.”
You were all joined together by the hip, making sure you were each other's sights. Through the wider than wingspan hallways, past the ridiculously expensive sculptures, you kept your eyes out for your estranged friends. Silence couldn’t have been more loud in these cavernous spaces, only hearing the gut feelings in your stomachs that’s churned in trepidation. Every step taken was the group closing in on the killer.
Fortitude meant nothing if the danger was already inside.
Before turning around the corner, Minghao—reluctant to lead the group—crashed into a human-sized obstacle, causing the stumble of your entire party. You all faced a wide-eyed Seungcheol with the missing young housekeeper walking hand in hand with him. Suspicious, but besides the point.
“Holy shit, we said we’d come back!”
“It’s been 20 minutes, Cheol! You guys could’ve been dead for all we know.” You retorted.
“Wait, where’s Seokmin?” Wonwoo asked, noticing he didn’t see him nearby.
“He went ahead. He needed to piss or something and meet up later.”
“You idiot.” Your eyes burned a frustrated rage. “I said don't split up. DON’T SPLIT UP! That’s the number one rule of horror movies. You’re going get us fucking killed. He could be the murderer for all we know.”
Seungcheol scoffed, shaking his head. “Seokmin? No way. He’s the last person to even think to do that.”
“Well, do you see him? No! Probably he’s off someone being Ghostface reject with his stupid little voice modulator and cheap party city costume.”
“I told you—“ Before he could finish, his phone went off in the nick of time. When he pulled it out to saw Seokmin’s caller ID on display and the owner of the device wouldn’t help but smile. “See the bastard is even calling.”
He picked up and put him on speaker, eyeing you cheekily, amped to prove you wrong. “Seok, you little shit. How long does it take to piss, huh? Just say you wanted to take a dump.”
“Oh yeah, I took the shittiest, stinkiest, fattest dump. You could probably smell all the way from the other end of the hall.”
Instead of Seokmin on the other line, all of you were met with the eerie voice that had called you multiple times before. The voice that felt like spiders crawling up your legs. The voice that had you second guess whether you locked the front and the back door. The voice whose owner had killed countless people already.
Seungcheol held the phone in a vice grip swallowing, fear stilling in his unsteady eyes. “You—Where the fuck is Seokmin, you son of a bitch?”
The morphed voice on the other end laughed, sounding bone chilling as nails against a blackboard. “What’s to say? Why don’t we play a little game to find out?”
“Mother fu—“You grabbed the phone from Seungcheol to answer in his place, cutting the older man off. “Why go through with this?”
“Why, I just want to help you find your beloved friend. All out of the kindness of my heart.”
“If it was all kindness, you could tell us where he is.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Psycho,” Minghao muttered under his breath, eyes wide in shock and fear, as if registering the idea of death for the first time.
“And if we refuse?” Wonwoo interjected.
“Seokmin dies, rock for brains,” Seungcheol gritted.
“Ding, ding, ding. Or should I say, chop, chop, chop, since that’s what'll happen if you get any of my questions wrong.”
You scoffed, coming down the stairs with your friends to follow. “Have at it then, you freak.”
“Hey, hey, play nice. Maybe I’ll get too excited and decide to cut him up early.”
Seungcheol glared at you briefly before taking back the phone, storming down the stairs, and reaching the ground floor. “Ask away, as long as Seokmin is safe.”
“First an easy one. What’s your favorite scary movie, Seungcheol?”
His feet stopped at the end of the couch in his living room, stammering to answer. “What kind of fucking question—uh, The Ring?”
“Don’t lie to your friends, Seungcheol. You know that’s not the answer, that’s just what you say to anyone that asks. Say the real answer.”
“That’s the movie though!” he started to shout, visibly shaking.
“Just say it, Cheol!” Minghao pushed.
“Stop playing around Choi Seungcheol! Just say it,” You joined.
“Fine!” He faced the friends, evidently swallowing his pride as he choked up on his answer. “I never watched a goddamn scary movie! Is that what you want to hear? I get panic attacks every time I hear one in the background, why do you I’m always going off smoking when you guys put one on,” he confessed through his tears.
“Congratulations. Your first right answer. Now was that so hard? Pussy boy?”
“Fuck you,” Seungcheol sputtered, tossing the phone back to you.
“Next question. ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,’ Leatherface is known for wearing a mask when it was in fact several. How many and what were they in the original movie?”
“Who the fuck would know an answer like that?” Minghao croaked in disbelief.
“Three. A ‘Killing Mask’, an ‘Old Lady Mask’ and a ‘Pretty Woman Mask.’” Wonwoo calmly answers, garnering horrified looks all around. “I wanted to be a filmmaker, remember?”
“Correct. Next question. What Was Freddy Krueger's serial killer nickname before he died?”
“It’s on the tip of my tongue,” you said slightly panicked, “Wonwoo?”
“The Springwood slasher.”
“Wow, Another amazingly correct answer. Hold on to that one, Y/n. He’s a keeper. He’s smart and fucks your brains out to the point of you screaming bloody murder? What a catch.”
You didn’t respond, impatience seething on the tip of your tongue, “Just tell us where this is all going.”
“Patience, sweetheart. Last question. What exact kind of knife does Ghostface use in the Stab movies? Here’s a hint: it’s the same one I’m holding in my hand against Seokmin’s throat. (Help me please...)”
“S-Seok.” Seungcheol gasped.
Seokmin’s voice could barely be heard on the other end, weak and afraid, only staggering breaths audible.
“Wonwoo, please,” Seungcheol begged, tears falling past his neck. “He’s our best friend.”
Wonwoo swallowed, gears visibly creaking in his head, “I know he uses a hunting knife, b-but—“
“Oh…” the voice cooed, “Well, that’s just not enough, is it? Seokminnie, say goodbye to your friends (Please, no…).”
“Seokmin!”
“Wait!” You barged, clutching the phone to the point of it almost bending. “A modified Buck 120. I remember now. It’s coming back to me. Now, let Seokmin go!”
The line went dead and in turn, light cast in the evening darkness of the poolside. All your eyes shot back at the change of light, startled at the sight in front of them. Seokmin was seated in a chair, bruises against his sides, bleeding from the splices on his forearms, and duct tape over his mouth. Yet the most frightening part was his closed eyes.
“Seokmin!”
You all rushed towards him, swinging the porch door in a panic. Seungcheol tried slapping him awake, pleading he’d be alive. “Seokmin please, please, wake up…
The poor victim's eyes start to flicker open, mumbling through the adhesive over his lips.
“Buddy,” Seungcheol ripped the duct tape clean off him, his ear coming up to his friend’s lips. “Speak to me…”
Seokmin’s voice came out in croaks, hardly incoherently, all except, “Be…hind…”
Minghao spat up blood, doubled over as Ghostface was revealed right behind him, and fell right into the pool. You and the housekeeper both let out a blood-curdling scream. The masked intruder wiped off the blood using his black rope, anticipating a lunge towards their next victim.
“Run,” Wonwoo breathed out.
He took your hand and ran with it. Taking a second to look back, you see Seungcheol and the housekeeper try to escape similarly before she was tugged right back towards the killer and she was stabbed right in front of him five times, each one faster than the last, having the poor Seungcheol paralyzed and fallen on his knees. The sounds of suffering were loud enough to hear throughout the neighborhood.
Wonwoo dragged you back upstairs, his survival instinct telling him to seek haven high and far up the house.
“You left them there to die,” You proclaimed.
“He said he could manage it. You’re more important.”
“You actually believe that? Ghostface snuck up on Minghao with neither of us looking!”
“We’re going to have to. Secungcheol can handle himself.”
Finally, he finds the room, closing the door behind him and pushing heavy furniture in front of it for more time to stall. “We’ll be ok for a little bit here. Let’s look for weapons.”
He started rummaging through drawers, looking for anything strap, blunt, heavy, anything worth using. He was red in the face, sweat drenching his entire body. The only thing running through his mind was keeping you, the most important person in his life, safe.
“Wonwoo, I don’t know if we’re going to find anything. Fuck. I’m so scared right now.”
He recognized the panic in your eyes, the bounce in your step, and the quiver in your voice. “Hey, hey, baby. Look at me.” He grasped your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumb.
“I’m here, hmm.” He kissed your closed eyes. “You’re alright.”
Then your tempered cheeks. “We’ll get through this.”
The tip of your nose. “I love you like hell.”
Finally your trembling lips. “I’ll keep you alive.”
“Promise?” You managed to breathe out.
“Scouts honor.”
The banging resonated from outside the locked door, only getting louder and closer every passing second as if teasing you to death. You shook in Wonwoo’s embrace, burying your face in his chest. “I don’t want to die here, baby.”
“You won’t. Not with me.” One arm wrapped around your body, and another had his fingers locked around the base of a lamp, tugging it from the outlet. Pitch darkness joined you, only having to rely on the dim-lit sky through the peek of the windows.
Whomever on the other side cracked through the wood of the door, breaking it piece by piece as it fell to the ground, knocking over the dresser that blocked
“Shit, shit, shit.” Wonwoo pushed you behind him.
Finally, your barrier came down with a final kick, rendering it useless. Wonwoo let out a battle cry, charging at them with the lamp above his head. He swung his weapon while Ghostface swung theirs, both missing simultaneously. Gritting his teeth, Wonwoo pulled forward, aiming for the head.
They crash against the wall in the process, but not without mutilating the midsection of Wonwoo’s stomach. The visually impaired man fell back to the ground, groaning in agony as he clutched his stomach, while blood trickled through his fingers. “Mother fucker...”
Wonwoo’s vision started to fight against him with the loss of his glasses, dimming images before him, and slowly processing the murderous figure trodding before him. Wonwoo’s determination picked him right back up slowly, picking up his lamp once again, trying to take another move toward the perpetrator. And by pure luck, the lamp crashed against the crown of their head.
Ghostface stumbled back, quick to recover but visibly agitated. Soon enough, they plunged the full length of the knife right into Wonwoo’s gut, sticking it deep and long before kicking him off of it. Wonwoo lands on the hardwood, blood gushing out of him like a public water fountain. “Fuck, fuck!”
“Wonwoo!” You come by his side, clutching at his wound desperately. “No, no, no.”
The sinister figure approached once more, hand creeping against the edge before he pulled it over and off his head. His eyes stared back at you both maniacally. His grin stretched from both ends freakishly before overtaking in deep chuckles. “Happy to see me?”
“…C-Chan?” Wonwoo managed to gasp.
“Hi, bestie.” His signature smile, once warm and inviting, reflected horrifyingly as if out of a film, one with too much bloodshed and betrayal to imagine. “Well, didn’t think you’d see me again, huh?”
“Chan, what the fuck?” You screeched.
“You’re supposed to be dead.” Wonwoo voiced panic-stricken. “What, how?”
One foot over the other, Chan carried himself with conviction, ease, and the confidence of a man who slaughtered countless amounts of people.
“You guys don't know how easy it is to fake my death. I was surprised by how incredibly stupid police officers are. Find a body that’s my height, my build, cut off their hands and arms to not get their fingerprints, singe their skin and face to the point of unrecognition, and plant them in your own home. I’m a fucking genius.”
“S-Seungkwan,” Wonwoo wept, his adam’s apple, “You actually—”
“It was beautiful. Masterful.”
“Why?” Wonwoo stammered. “Your best friend—“
“He was an imbecile. Weak. All bark and no bite. You will never understand how good it felt to stick the knife inside him and watch the blood burst off of him like a sprinkler. Like the knife going in and out of him surged power throughout my entire body. So, I kept doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. AND DOING IT.”
His smile. That violating smile.
You sobbed, covering Wonwoo’s wound with your hands. “Y-you monster.”
“This was all just fun for you?” Wonwoo bared his teeth. “You get your kicks from lying, deceiving, stabbing your friends? You think you’re some Billy Loomis?”
“Of course I have fun. I had lots of fun. We had so much fucking fun.”
“We?” Wonwoo repeated.
“What the fuck do you mean we?” You asked horrified.
Chan started to chuckle to himself, chest heaving exuberantly before he stood completely still. Dreadfully still.
“Well, I'm not the one that killed Joshua, am I?”
A million guesses ran through Wonwoo’s brain. None made sense the more he thought about it. “Your Stu Macher? Seokmin…Seungcheol…?”
Your eyes turned to him fearful, before it melted into something else, something familiar. Something terrifying. “No…” your lips drew close to his ear. “Me…”
Your hands squeezed around his wound, gripping, earning his moans of anguish, screaming at you to stop, before you retrieved the knife hidden behind your boot and drove it into his shoulder. Wonwoo let out the loudest scream he could ever muster, feeling the blade sharply cut his nerve whilst pain shot into his chest. He tapped his heel incessantly on the ground, tears streaming from his eyes, looking at you in disbelief, overcome with hurt.
“And he was a good fuck too until the knife I put through his back made him scream like a little bitch.”
You pulled out the knife from him, seeing how the pain he felt in his body only complimented the suffering pooling in his heart, his mind, his soul. His lips quivered in your direction, sucking in his breath. “Y/n…Why?”
You simply shrugged. “Why does anyone kill these days? They’re bored, daddy. Same reason why things can change in the bedroom, to spice things up. The flavor of life is murder now, darling.”
“You’re killing people.”
You drove the knife one more time into his thigh, savoring his scream of agony. “And we’re more alive than we ever have been,” you said, twisting the knife before pulling it out.
You walked toward Chan, helping him pull off his robe. “And so is our sex life.”
“So, Junhui, Soonyoung…Joshua, and even Seungkwan.” Wonwoo asked, catching his breath.
“Every. single. one,” You chuckled. “Draining their cum out of like having a second puberty until life is literally drained out of their bodies. What a bunch of pussy boys. So obsessed with sex, they didn’t see the knife coming their way.”
Your hand reached for the ottoman and pushed Chan there to be seated, underdressed in the black tank top and black jeans he hid underneath with his momentarily abandoned bloody knife at his side. You unbuckled his pants single-handedly, your knife still in your other hand. “And Chan just gets so fucking hard with all the bloodshed. Like a bloodthirsty animal.”
“You just look so fucking sexy with blood on your hands,” Chan moaned, “Touch me how I like it, baby.”
“Mmh, my pleasure.” Your hand used the blood covering it as a morbid form of lube, closing around the girth of his cock to squeeze and lightly stroking it from base to tip, softly thumbing over the small slit on top.
His stomach flexed, bucking his hips in your direction as he bit down on his bottom lip, beaming like a child on Christmas. Horny for your touch, Chan couldn’t help but squirm in his seat, warning up to your touch. He was absolutely growing at a rapid pace. “Like that baby, like that.”
“That feel good, daddy? You like how the blood is covering your entire cock? Seokmin’s blood, Minghao’s blood, Seungcheol’s blood? Wonwoo’s blood?”
“Fuck. Yes.”
“You two,” Wonwoo’s shock couldn’t stagger from the scene in front of him, unable to process all this information at once.
“You’re massaging our friends into my cock so good, baby.”
“Yeah?” You traced your fingers over the details of his shaft, your nails prodding at the veins as your hand slowly picked up pace. You rolled him in your fist, letting him rut in your defiled hand as he moaned your name like an animal in heat. “I’m getting so wet watching fuck in my hand covered in blood. You’re just a sick lunatic obsessed with killing your friends and fucking my sweet pussy. I love that about you, Daddy.”
“Fuck,” he screamed, hands gripping the ottoman in restraint, brimming with passion, “Wanna mix Wonwoo’s cum you kept inside you with the blood. Sit that sweet pussy on my cock for me, lover.”
You nodded invitingly, not missing a beat. You never did replace the underwear from before, making it easy to remove your shorts and sliding him inside your warm walls, massaging his length as you rolled your hips against his. You held the knife you still had in a death grip, stabling against the reliability of Chan’s shoulders. You mumble his name pleased, arching your back as you grinded down on his lap. “Your cock feels so good covered in blood, daddy.”
“Your pussy feels even better knowing how much fun you had stabbing Wonwoo for me.”
“Of course, daddy.” You turned to the body mutilated and defenseless on the ground, grinning as Wonwoo was forced to watch. “That look good, Daddy Wonwoo?” Your ass bounced purposely in Chan’s lap, the jiggle showing off the splatter of blood left from the handjob.
Everything in Wonwoo told him to look away but he couldn’t, like a train wreck or a car crash, he couldn’t part with the mess of a situation he was witnessing. He wasn't sure what this meant for him, mentally nor physically.
“You like watching Chan fuck me, Daddy? His bloody dirty cock fucking me like you did a hour ago, fucking me like a nasty little whore.”
He hissed through his teeth, right the strange feeling surging in his pain-stricken body, “Shut…the fuck up.”
You laughed obnoxiously. “You love it. You love being a little cuck, watching other guys fuck my pussy. As if you hadn’t peeped on me and Chan fucking when he wasn’t ‘dead’.”
“It’s not true, you bitch.” The twitch in his trousers told him otherwise.
“You’re such a liar a dirty, dirty liar like I’m a dirty, dirty fucking whore.” You groaned loudly taking Chan’s cock, bouncing against his lap as you felt him pulse around your walls.
“That’s right baby take my cock.” Chan’s hand came over your bare cheeks, striking them with his full palms while his hips jerked up your body. “Taking the murder fueled, hard fucking cock.”
“Daddy, your cock is making me so fucking wet, stretching my pussy the way you sliced open our friends,” You growled.
“Fuck you’re such a little succubus, baby. Bouncing on my cock, coating yourself in blood. And I’ll kill more and more for you. I’ll do anything for you.”
“Yeah,” You began slowing your pace, drinking in his every word. “You’d do anything for me?”
“I’d kill the entire human population for you.”
That left you smiling from ear to ear, the tension coiling in your stomach. Your chest pressed against his, pushing against his thrusts. “Yeah? Would you cum in me, Daddy? Mix our dirty mess inside me. Let me take your cum, daddy.”
“I’ll let you drain me of every drop, my little psychopath.”
“Cum daddy cum, make me full and breed me with our homicidal baby daddy. Make you a real daddy.”
Chan shuddered, overwhelmed with immense arousal. His hips found life of their own, hammering into you at top speed, and watching the pleasure morph on your face and the staccato rhythm of your breath leave your lips, all while the load threatened to burst out of his sack. “I’m cumming, baby, all for you, ah—“ then it exploded inside you. His cum launched out of his cock like a hose, he painted your wall in milky white, turning pink as it seeped out of you.
“I’m so close, daddy…”
Chan threw his head back to catch his breath, hands possessively finding purchases on your hips. “That’s it, baby. cum for daddy.”
“I’m cuming daddy, I’m—“ You gripped your knife, taking Chan’s abandoned one before plunging both in his head. His smile dropped, a small and weak, “baby” leaving his sweet lips before spitting up blood on your chest and he fell limp.
You didn’t stop, however, given the fact that your orgasm had just arrived the mere second Chan tasted metal in his mouth. Your moans could’ve been mistaken for anguish if not for the smile on your savage face. “I’m cumming all over your cock, Daddy, fuck! You’re so good to me, you do so much for me. I love you so much. Hitting my spot even in death.”
The wave of climax finally started to fade, unlike your smile, wretched and demonic. “Thank you for your sacrifice, Daddy. I’ll miss you so much.” You kissed deceased Chan’s lips, coming down from him, and fixing his pants before fixing his pants before pulling your shorts back on your body.
“Y/n…what the fuck?”
Watching you pull the knives out of Chan’s head, Wonwoo's expression was a mix of confusion and horror, struggling to back away as you approached him calmly, almost serenely.
“Chan has served his purpose,” You answered plainly as if obvious. “It was his time.”
“You did that, all that, with him, and you MURDER HIM? Your partner in sick, sick psychotic crime?”
“I told you spice was necessary, plus I’ve grown rather fond of you.” You bent down to his level, eyes noticeably just a deep pit of disparity. “I couldn’t let him kill you, so I beat him to it. Good thing too, because that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”
Wonwoo whimpered under your touch—well, the knife’s touch—as the tip of it dragged over his jaw, drawing out a shudder. “Y-you’re letting me live?”
Your smile. That damned smile. You and Chan were mere reflections of each other. How had he not seen this sick image sooner?
“As long as it's with me, because you love me right? That’s what you said. You’ll always love me and keep me alive. You promised.”
You pressed the blade against his neck, “You’re cold-blooded. Fucking your dead friend’s girlfriend, leaving your other friends to die to save me, and taking on a mass murderer just for me.” Your other hand caressed over his face. “That’s hard fucking core, baby. I love that so much. You really love and want me. Well, I want you just as bad.”
“Like you wanted Chan?”
You scoffed, using the knife to point at the abandoned soulless body on the ground. “Chan was disposable. He was already fucked up in the brain. I can nurture you, let you prove you’re that you’re mine and only mine. Then I’d have no reason to kill you. Not at all…say you’ll be with me forever.”
“…yes, sweetie. O-of course I will.”
You sighed a breath of relief, your harmless hand coming over to stroke over the stray hairs on his head. “That’s my daddy. My one and only. We can be the finals. Together. Only us—”
“Hello! Wonwoo! Y/n!” Miraculously, Seungcheol found their way to you, barely alive it sounds like.
Rage filled your eyes. “Holy fuck how is he still alive,” you mumbled under your breath. “I’ll take care of him.”
You held the knife to your side, standing by the door and away from its open view. “Cheol! In here! We caught the killer!”
Seungcheol managed to find the defaced door, peeking through the rubble to see a disheveled Wonwoo, panting and close to death. “Wonwoo!”
“Cheol…” Wonwoo grunted.
“Hang in there, buddy. I’ve got you.”
“To…your…right.”
You glared at Wonwoo, betrayal in your eyes before launching yourself at the hero, who hardly had a scratch on their body. Seungcheol, taking his friend's warning in consideration, built up a wall of defense. His eyes caught you just in time and held up your arms, pinning you against a wall. His eyes finally registered on your face, and his grip on you only tightened. “Y/n, you evil little bitch.”
You chuckled tauntingly, struggling against his weight and strength. “Hi, Cheol. I know you always wanted to stick something in me, mind letting me do it first?”
“You—wow, you’re actually mentally deranged.”
“You don’t like that? Maybe my knife through your skull can change your mind.”
He kicked you in the groin, having you plummet to your knees, cusses streaming out of you like a river. “You pussy. Ass. Bitch.”
“Seungcheol,” Wonwoo groaned, painfully cheering him on.
You managed to kick Seungcheol down in your distress, crawling on top of him to gain leverage. “I know you liked to be topped.”
You held the knife, hands wrapped tightly around the handle before striking. Meanwhile, Seungcheol’s hands were wrapped around your wrists, the tip of the knife tickling his nose. Sweat beaded against his forehead, struggling harder than he thought he would as you smiled still.
“This would be a lot sexier if you let me run my knife inside you, baby.”
“Fuck you and your demented punk ass,” he grunted.
“I would if you’d just FUCKING DIE!”
A gunshot follows soon after and the blood gushed from your neck, pouring from both ends and falling lifelessly against Seungcheol, who let out a shrill scream.
“I found a gun,” Seokmin proclaimed weakly from the door before fainting to the ground.
Seungcheol rolled your body off of him, sick to his stomach. “Sick crazy bitch.”
He looked towards his friend who remained helpless his entire journey before his eyes got caught on the dead body he only realized now. “Is that…”
“Yeah,” Wonwoo whispered.
“And they…”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck, dude.”
Seungcheol went around to pick up Seokmin from the ground, grabbing the gun. Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s eyes lingered over your body, in disbelief it was alive a mere second ago, then he saw something strange, causing his eyes to fly open. “Cheol behind you!”
Another gunshot. Right between your eyes and your body that stood for hardly a second longer than it should’ve—of course with the knife still in your hand—fell right back on the ground.
“They always come back,” Wonwoo quoted.
Seungcheol let out a deep exhale, loosening his grip around the gun. “And aim for the head.”
“Sorry about your house.”
“…sorry about your girlfriend.”
“Me too.”
post reading a/n: always like me to insert chan into anything fr. i have no excuses
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @smileysuh (felt fucked up not to tag you bc you’re fucked it just like me 💕)
#svthub#seventeen smut#horror au#seventeen#dino smut#wonwoo smut#lee chan smut#jeon wonwoo smut#dino x you#dino x reader#dino x y/n#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x y/n#wonwoo x you#seventeen fanfic#dino#seungcheol#wonwoo#minghao#seokmin#lee seokmin#choi seungcheol#xu minghao#lee chan#scoups#jeon wonwoo#lee chan x reader#jeon wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo x you#jeon wonwoo x y/n
794 notes
·
View notes
Text
make a move {choi seungcheol}
pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader
prompt: 'i've never done this before' + 'i just want to please you' ((this work is part of my 1k event, go check out other works of mine here)
warnings: nsfw (minors, i'm looking at all of you, skip this work!), cheollie is whipped (duh, when have i ever written anything different), i'm striking again with a confident and forthcoming reader in here, fingering, handjob
seungcheol takes it slow. it's a miracle that you even agreed to be his girlfriend in the first place and he is not about to fuck it all up by rushing and making mistakes. he's a perfect gentleman, he prides himself in having a great selfcontrol and he's also absolutely terrified of messing up this chance of being with you, so. he takes it slow. his kisses never stray away from your lips and his hands are yet to map out every curve of your body cause he keeps them positioned strategically at your waist at all times. in those two months of dating he never stayed over at your place and never indicated that he wants to move things further, never pushed. all in all seungcheol is a perfect picture of someone who takes. it. slow. he's also a perfect picture of someone who's on the brink of losing his goddamn mind.
cause you don't exactly make it easy for him. part of seungcheol thinks that you're doing this on purpose, but another part doesn't want to believe in it. you can't be testing him on purpose, right? all those breathy sighs into the kiss, your fingers that caress his torso and then drop too low right next to his belt, you sitting on his lap and wiggling to get comfortable - you can't be that cruel, right? on any day he'd never think of you as anything less of an angel, but right now he is not sure. your simple 'help me pick an outfit for tonight's party' request sounded very innocent, but you closing the door and starting to undress right in front of him? sinful. devilish. seungcheol is losing his mind.
'i just need to freshen up,' you gesture towards the bathroom, taking off your hoodie. 'you can sit wherever, i'll take a quick shower and then we can choose, yeah? i want us to match!'
soft smile graces his features as he stares at your excited face. your desire to wear matching clothes is too cute and he is always ready to indulge you. 'sure babe, whatever you want.'
you smile, sending him a kiss before disappearing into the bathroom. seungcheol decidedly doesn't think of your state of nakedness right behind that door and turns around, getting himself comfortable on your bed. in truth, he doesn't really know how to...move forward. and the worst part is not like you asked him to take it slow. no, he decided so himself but lately seungcheol had a hard time remembering the reasons behind this decision. he'd wait for you as long as needed if you asked so, but when you didn't he is a bit at loss. his hands itch to explore your body, his lips long to kiss you all over and he doesn't know how to breach this subject. the last thing he wants to do is make you uncomfortable but the more he thinks about it, the more thought of talking it out with you seems to be logical.
'babe, where's my phone?'
'right over he- oh!' seungcheol turns his head so quickly, he hears a loud crack of his neck. image of you wrapped only in a towel will not leave his mind anytime soon. 'sorry! sorry. um, i didn't mean to look, honestly. your phone is-' he reaches out and hands it to you, still turned around, '-here, yeah it's here.'
there's a silence and then he hears soft chuckle. 'cheollie, if i didn't want you to look, i would have wore clothes before going out.'
'right-right,' seungcheol lets out automatically before meaning behind your words fully sinks in. when it does, he whips his head back, staring at you dumbfounded. 'what?'
you smile at his confused face, stepping closer. 'you heard me, seungcheol. or i can repeat the whole walking out thing again if you want.'
silence. seungcheol is not sure how he is supposed to react. his brain shuts down for few seconds, taking few more seconds to restart but this time when he's silent is enough to make you feel insecure. he sees how smile slips up from your face, getting replaced with downward quirk of your lips and frown. he hates that but before his tongue can remember how words work, you mutter: 'hey, i didn't want to pressure, i was just kidding, sorry-'
'no-no!' seungcheol rushes out to say, fumbling with his words as he shots up from the bed to stand close to you. you look so fragile with your shoulders hunched and looking like he might reject you, which honestly is never an option and he needs to make it clear as a day to you. 'please don't apologise, i just blanked out on you in a moment.'
you look up to check whether thats true or not and then smile, raising your eyebrow in a flirtatious way. 'should i take it for a compliment that you blanked out seeing me half naked?'
seungcheol huffs, stepping a bit closer. his hands fall automatically on your hips and he smiles as you instantly sway closer. 'i didn't want to impose,' he explains, carefully choosing his words. 'you and i, we...we are taking it slow, so. i'm kind of-' seungcheol shakes his head, tightening his grip on your hips. it's hard to find words when you're smelling so good and your skin is still moist and- 'at loss, i guess.'
you chew on your bottom lip, thinking. 'why exactly are we taking it slow, cheollie? is this what you want? if that's what you want then of course i will respect. but if it's for my sake then i don't really care, to be honest. but if you don't want me-'
seungcheol roughly pulls you close, inhales floral scent of your shampoo and breathes out, trying to put words into sentences. he doesn't want to hear the end of your sentence, can't bear the thought of you feeling like this; he wants to be romantic, wants to sweep you off your feet, but only raw honesty is on his tongue when he whispers: 'i want you. so much. always, all the time.' when he opens his eyes, he makes eye contact with you, wanting you to know that he is not joking around. 'never doubt that, never.'
your eyes glaze over and you lick your lips nervously; this little action makes him swallow loudly. 'then...' you place your hands on his belt, looking up. 'make a move, cheol.'
a permission. a verbal one, when you're fully in your right mind - once seungcheol registers that, he has to take a deep breath. in a second he's overwhelmed with all of the options: where he can touch, kiss, seeing you naked, the positions - his fingers start to shake a little from realization that he is free to do it all. he doesn't know what to choose first simply because he wants to everything at once, immediately, god he waited so patiently-
'i've never done this before,' he hears you whisper. 'i mean-never been this forward.'
he hums, drawing soothing circles on your hips. your towel is really getting in the way and he gets bold enough to tug on it, letting the fabric fall down. it gets a hitch in breath from you and growing smirk from him in return. 'you being this forward,' he whispers, closing in so he's practically whispering in your mouth, 'is very, very sexy.'
in truth it does thing to him that are hard to explain, because whole blood rushes away from his brain and moves lower, making it hard to keep his composure. you're finally in his arms in the way that he wanted and to have you fully naked and him fully clothes is really too much for him to handle. you glance at him with a small smirk of your own, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. your chest presses to his and seungcheol locks his arms around you, fighting off his growing desire to throw you on the bed and have his way with you.
'you find me sexy?' you ask and he is so far gone, you really don't even have to try and be seductive, every move of yours captures his heart in a deadlock. 'what else?'
oh, this is a fantastic question, one that seungcheol is ready to answer even if you wake him up in the middle of the night. he leans in, starting to press kisses at each part of your face as he speaks: 'i find you sexy, yes. and absolutely irressistible, and stunning. so, so stunning. you're unreal.'
your giggle when he kisses up your neck makes him smile and he lets you go just to shrug off his jacket. 'i am real,' you assure him, not so subtly tugging at the hem of his t-shirt. then you suddenly look up, serious. 'what do you want to do?'
another brilliant question. seungcheol gathers you back in his arms once he took off his t-shirt. 'i just want to please you.'
and that's really it. in the bottom of it all is just his immense desire to please you, make you feel good. seungcheol is ready to make this his lifelong purpose, he hopes you are ready for it. at his reply your eyes twinkle and you lean in, brushing your lips over his ear: 'green light on everything, cheol.'
it's a mess from then on. one minute you two are standing in a hug and then he's between your legs, leaving kisses all over inside of your thighs while his fingers gently pry you open. if seungcheol could choose, he'd gladly die right here and now. in between your legs, getting to touch your body, hearing those sinful sounds leave your mouth - that's a good way to go. his own arousal pushes at his jeans in an uncomfortable manner, but it doesn't matter for him now. he is completely lost in your world, can spend hours right in this position, massaging supple and soft flesh of your thighs, pushing his fingers again and again in your velvety heat, leaving his little marks all over you. everything about you is addictive: your body, your taste, your sounds. he wants to memorize everything now, but realization that this is not his last time has him reeling this desire back; god, just the knowledge of him having so much time with you in the future has his knees buckling.
'seungcheol,' you keen at the of the third finger and he smiles, when you try to close your legs together.
he wants to see your face and he moves higher, trailing kisses wherever he can reach, stopping at your collarbones. you're breathing heavily and he slips down to give all of his attention to your chest, smirking at you groaning. he speeds up his fingers and his jaw slackens in awe when you start moving along, chasing your high with a loud whine, grabbing his bicep for support. 'fuck- yes, c'mon, use me, use my fingers, take what you want, love,' he lets out, eyes fixed on the way your hips move.
'oh my god,' your nails dig painfully into his skin. 'i'm- seungcheol, i need-'
seungcheol moves down swiftly, knowing exactly what you need. his lips close around the nub and he sucks in time with his fingers, making you cry out. your legs shake when you climax and whole body grows taut for few seconds before relaxing, sagging back into the bed. cheol works you through it, his lips and fingers serve a constant pressure in the right places, stopping only when you tug weakly at his hair. he grins, leaning down to lap up at your juices. your skin is glowing with light sheen of sweat and he wonders will you be disgusted or not if he licks it off.
'feeling okay?' he asks quietly, moving up until he's facing you.
your eyes focus on him after few moments and you smile, nodding. your hand reaches out to his belt and he catches it, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. 'what about you?' you ask, frowning.
'i'll take care of it,' he says. 'you are tired and don't even argue about it.'
you pout but don't argue - you are tired. this day has been dreadful and after an orgasm all you wanna do is just roll over and fall asleep. however, leaving him high and dry is not what you want, so you stubbornly reach out for his jeans, ignoring his groan of protest. 'handjob?' you ask, looking up at your boyfriend. 'blowjob?'
seungcheol curses under his breath; how can someone look so cute when these kind of words leave their mouth? he sighs, pulling you in and whispering into your hair: 'handjob.'
honestly, he's so pent up that even few strokes from you will do it but he tries to hold on, not wanting to leave a bad impression. so he grits his teeth and tries to think unsexy thoughts when you caress his shaft slowly before picking up your speed. he's trying to be quiet but you lean on and start kissing him and oh, he is a weak, weak man. seungcheol moans loudly into your mouth when you apply more pressure and pants openly as his stomach tightens from all the feelings. 'let go,' you whisper - command? - into his ear and he follows your order easily like it's the most natural thing in the world. you swallow up all his sounds with a kiss and his midn blissfully drifts in and out until he comes back to reality, when you reach out behind him for a tissue.
'shower?' you ask, looking at him with a warm smile.
'and a nap,' seungcheol nods. 'want me to go first and fix the temperature?'
seungcheol wants nothing more than to lay here and fall asleep with you, but he knows how you hate sweat and how you hate cold water and having to wait for it to warm up, so his want will hav to wait. you nod gratefully, smiling at how well he knows you. 'yes please.'
'how polite,' cheol snickers but stands up, tucking his jeans away and rushing to the bathroom. he stands there for a while, waiting for water to warm up and then grabs two new towels before calling you in. 'all is ready, your highness, please do come in.'
your laugh makes his heart beat louder in his chest and he sighs in satisfaction when you drop a kiss at his forehead before going in. this evening turned out to be something else and he's never been more glad of it.
a/n: so.many.feelings in this smut, this got out of control when i started writing it. let me know what you think - nini
tagging @prpldahy
#seventeen smut#svt smut#seventeen imagine#seventeen fic#seungcheol smut#choi seungcheol#seventeen seungcheol#svt seungcheol#scoups scenarios#seventeen scoups#seventeen scenario#scoups#svt scoups#seventeen x reader#seungcheol imagine#seventeen reaction#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#GOD IT IS FINALLY FINISHED WHOA#i havent written smut in such a long time i feel like i am incapable of writing a good one#sorry if this too..idk mushy and not much action#but also...have you read my other works i think you knew not to expect soemthign hardcore
978 notes
·
View notes
Note
oh, this might he an idea only i've had!
the boys with a bartender s/o
i'm talking long-ass shifts, staying up til no-fucking-thank-you o'clock, that stuff
Sans: He gets constant laughs out of her. He's always the life of the bar, but anyone who knows him can tell he's trying extra hard around her and using only his best terrible jokes. The bunny monster who used to crush on him has stopped vying for his affections, because she can tell he's completely got his heart set on Mc. Though Mc still does have to harass him to pay his tab, his jokes have her ducking behind the bar to snort, or spilling drinks because she's not concentrating. He feels like he's won when she puts her head in her hands and tries to disguise her smile with a groan.
He goes there entirely for her. He used to go for the terrible food, but now he shows up for almost every shift just to see her. Grillby swats him over the skull and tells him to stop 'swooning over the staff'. He loves her smile and her eyes, he loves the way she talks to him, how she's not afraid to cut him off or dob him in to Papyrus over the phone. He has a shitty sleep schedule anyway, he doesn't mind aggravating her until the early hours of the morning.
Red: She's got a bit of a schoolgirl crush on him. He's funny, he's hot, he handles his alcohol like a champ, his flirtation is genuinely flattering. Despite looking like the sort who would grope her, even when he's absolutely shitfaced he's never leery or gross, he never makes her feel uncomfortable. Shitfaced Red makes her feel extremely pretty and interesting. One time when he was drunk, she spotted him nearly ogling her butt, but then quickly turning his eyelights up to the ceiling at the last second.
He also actively defends her at the bar; he throws hands with the idiots who get aggressive, to the point where people don't bother her anymore if Red is at the bar. The relief on her face when he takes a seat is clear as day.
... Look, he's not the kinda guy who fools himself into thinking the sweet smiling bartender genuinely likes him. But he can tell she does prefer him to the other guys. Any time things are slow, she'll come and talk to him, picking him over all her other regulars and even the other staff. It's his favourite place for a reason.
Skull: Not gonna lie, at first, she had really bad vibes from him. He'd stare at her for hours, get one drink, then stare for another few hours. She's had more than her fair share of weird guys who think they're her boyfriend because she used her customer service smile on them.
... One night, she was closing up the bar. Someone followed her out the door and cornered her, grabbing at her and not taking no. Skull showed up and knocked their fucking teeth out. Then, like the big quiet gentleman he is, he walked her to her car; once he made sure she was safe and okay, he left without a word.
Now he's her certified favourite. He's welcome anytime, and he gets drinks on the house. On top of that, now she knows he's not a bad guy, she's started looking past his scary exterior- and she's beginning to realise that underneath all the silence and scars and spooky glares, he's actually a big cute softie.
#llamagines#bartender au#i mean. skull DOES think hes her boyfriend#but at least he doesnt say it out loud
632 notes
·
View notes
Note
Jakehal is very fun. But why dirkkri? I dont understand what's appealing about it :? confused
theres a lot of things i like about dirkri and honestly i dont even know where to start lmfao
first of all, and its mostly a funny reason - davekat on crack. like some traces of davekat are still there - the arguing about shit, stoic facade vs emotional mess, all the good stuff, but its also so much more exaggerated it makes it this much more ridiculous. gets even better when you consider them under the lense of swap aus like alphaswitch or tbau, where they land on the meteor together. theyre most likely hunting each other for sports by the year two
second of all, the funney. theyd be so fucking funny together. their smallest arguments would take like twenty pages of non-stop flow of red-orange text to resolve, and not because they came to a consensus but because some third party physically dragged them away from their electronics. it doesnt do any good, since it only gives them both time to think over new arguments to use, and theyre back at it as soon as they get their phones back. like if we had a tournament about which ship would do the most collateral damage to the overall group, i think these two would be Up There. karkat would gauge his eyes out from frustration, because now not only does he have to deal with his piece of shit, know-it-all other self, but now theres also Fucking Dirk thrown into the mix. their home life is absolute insanity, a small jab about the other forgetting to buy sugar once again devolves into a screaming match about the merits and flaws of communism or some other inane shit. and theyre doing it for fun, they enjoy debating with each other, because often times they have vastly different opinions, and comparing their beliefs challenges them intelectually and morally. from the outside perspective theyre one of the most dysfunctional pair in the paradox space, when in fact thats simply how they want their relationship to be, and it makes them better people overall.
third reason is that theyre thematically delicious. dirk is a control freak, micromanaging his and his friends constantly. hes terrified of losing control, but hes also desperate for someone to just tell him what the fuck he should do. dirk doesnt think he should be in control of others, because he believes hes a naturally evil person capable of horrible acts, at the same time he doesnt trust anyone else to get things done but himself. hes a whole collection of contradictions.
kankri desperately needs to be in control as well. hes constantly injecting himself into conversations he has no business being in, trying to find someone thatd listen to what he has to say. hes wants to guide others, but his efforts are flawed, because he doesnt listen to other perspectives - hes got tunnel vision, as he thinks hes the one in the right while everyone else is wrong or ignorant (cringefail seer literally). he doesnt trust anyone else to make decisions for him, and becomes defensive when he thinks others are attempting to coddle him. his ass was definitely culled on beforus.
theyre also both so fucking lonely. dirk conciously tries to put difference between himself and his friends, worrying hell "corrupt" them. kankri tries to connect to his friends, but his behavior alienates him from them to the point of no one except maybe porrim want to have anything to do with him.
my point is, kankri wants to guide people but has to learn to listen to others and reflect on his own flawed opinions. dirk has to learn to trust that people closest to him can get shit done on their own and loosen up, as well as realise hes not evil at the core. them helping each other out - dirk teaching kankri about different perspectives, kankri teaching dirk about letting others do their thing - is something i think about a lot.
also i like to think theyd spar for fun a lot as well. its not really a reason and wholly my own personal headcanon but i wanna mention it as well bc its so funny to me. i like the idea of kankris behaviour being a complete reverse of karkat - where karkat is all bark no bite and doesnt like fighting or violence, kankri puts up a front of the beacon of love and peace and tolerance, but in his free time he gets his rifle and goes shooting at the fucking squirrels or some shit. i think he wouldnt have the same qualms about strifing as karkat. like dirk would try to jokingly jab his finger at kankris side and he would just fucking flip him over his shoulder and onto the table breaking it in half, because he doesnt like being touched unexpectedly and by gods dirk when will you fucking learn. he goes from 0 to 100 real fast. its such a hysterical concept for me.
#homestuck#dirk strider#kankri vantas#dirkri#dirkkri#turnabout au#homestuck turnabout#alphaswitch#tagging it as well bc well. dirkri#is it dirkri manifesto? its dirkri manifesto#wally where are you i need your words tell em tell em why dirkri is so fucking good
261 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi! I cannot understand Val’s personality at all, and you’re my favorite writer for him, so I was wondering if you could tell me how he’d react in a situation where his darling is being harassed at a bar he’s not at? Like darling obviously has a tracker on their phone and they know it, but they also can’t leave the bar because that risks them getting kidnapped
maybe Val has already started calling them and leaving voicemails because they no showed, so you know that if you don’t call him and have an immediate reason for not responding you’ll probably be in for a very painful night, so you tell whoever is harassing you that you need to go into the bathroom, and it’s very obvious that they followed you but aren’t in the bathroom, so you just take out your phone and finally answer one of Val’s calls, and you make it obvious your crying, but you also hold the phone away from you so it doesn’t seem like you want Val to know your crying.
after that I’m kinda stuck on how he’d react, but if you’d rather not add to this it’s fine, this was part me wanting a response and part me wanting to tell someone my ideas
If it makes you feel better I also find Val's personality to be levels of inconsistent however I kinda interpret it being inconsistent because he's um an extremely emotional person and also an alcoholic addict and he's constantly pinballing between "oooo this will make me money" to "oh you've pissed me off PERSONALLY therefore I will rain fire upon you", like we have several instances of Valentino potentially sabotaging his business for kicks and Vox has had to reign him back in, and he still gives Angel actual fucking black eyes even when there's still filming, he doesn't even care about not leaving marks since everything will heal eventually
I feeeeeeeel like... it really depends on how his darling grovels to him and explains what is happening. You ditched him, you're out at a bar, you were ignoring his calls, and now you're telling him you're with another man. An abusive man would usually automatically assume "oh you're in a bar? Fucking slut trying to find other men, this is what you fucking get" but since we're having, you know. The Yandere Talk, I feeeeeel like.... it goes one of a few ways
One is he's absolutely pissed in general, at you, at the guy, just misfiring rage and snapping. You're bawling ti try and explain your situation and he snaps he can barely understand you because he can't regulate his anger and, it isn't INHERENTLY being mad at you, he's mad he can't understand you, but he's horrible at communicating that, so he shows up to rescue you and (unintentionally) has you trembling in fear of him because he's speaking to you like "where the fuck are you hurt?! Show me? Ugh, this bruise is huge, it's so fucking ugly, UGH-" and he's like not blaming you but is being so terrifying about it that, you're pretty convinced you'll be hit by him at any moment and maybe it would be you FLINCHING HARD at a sudden movement of his for him to, finally take a second to begrudgingly take a few deep breaths and his tone finally softens and he can stop freaking you out even more than you already are
Option 2 I see is that you answer the phone when he's in the 'love' of the love and the hate he switches between, so you catch him in the middle of one of his "baby you know I care so much about you, it just makes me a little wild when you leave me waiting" sort of voicemails. You finally pick up and you get this slightly catty "ohhhhh, look who it is,you remembered how to answer your phone! I missed you" and the second he can tell you're crying, you're just like, hearing all this stuff in the background and he sounds like he's been drinking but when is he ever NOT drinking "awwww, baby no, that's terrible! *heels clicking wayyy to fast for him to not be literally power walking his stiletto ass somewhere* I'm sure Daddy will be able to get everything sorted out *car door slams* and I'll show this lowlife fucking freak exactly what he deserves *moves the phone away from his mouth to HOLLER at his driver to 'get a fucking move on or I'll fucking kill you'* so don't you worry, ok baby? ❤️ make sure you stay on the phone with me, mhm? *click click click of him loading bullets into a magazine* so what's this motherfucker look like, he's uglier than me, right--"
And then I guess another unique outcome would be uh. You pick up the phone and he's just instantly shouting screaming fuming at you so much that he's like screaming for a few solid minutes before he's finally like "are you even gonna say anything you dumb whore?!" and that's when he finally hears your voice but it's not even your voice, it's your breathing, like you can barely even get any air out, like you're having a panic attack, you can barely even raise the volume of your voice above a whisper and your voice just keeps cracking and shaking, "v val" and like, the very first SYLLABLE out of your mouth he knows something is BIG WRONG because you sound TERRIFIED and you can barely even speak, "some-someone's outside the bathroom.... he says he'll hurt me... I don't know what to do....!" and like that's it. It takes Val from 100 to 0 real fast. He goes from "if you're not on your way home in five fucking minutes-" to "what did you just say" and he's completely quiet as you're like struggling to speak, "i-i'm in-in a stall, but he's... OUTSIDE.... WAITING..." and you just sob with a hand over your mouth but he can still hear it and he's already on his way
Do you think Val knows how to fight and I mean like BRAWL. Valentino's still on the phone with you and he can barely even hear you and he suddenly hears the man's voice, he's come INTO the bathroom now, he's OUTSIDE your stall, antagonizing you, scaring you, grabbing the top of the door and shaking it like it's nothing. You're SCREAMING because you're in A FUCKING STALL and he could either rip the hinges off or just like COME UNDER OR OVER and then you're done for so you're like TERRIFIED WAILING I mean shrieking like a murder victim because oh god oh god oh god you're gonna double die--- and you just hear the door to the bathroom get kicked open and the guy is just like RIPPED away from your stall and CHAOS follows. You hear all these thudding, smashing, crashing, breaking sounds and when you finally hear nothing but Val's voice telling you to come out he's just standing there covered in blood and the dude is on the floor with his face an unrecognizable SLUDGE because Val grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his face into the edge of the sink until it was knocking teeth out of his mouth. Valentino is over here, reaching for you looking like that scene from The Witch of Mercury
Except unlike in Mercury you're like, only temporarily in stunned silence before you're like, RUSHING to be held by him because you're just scared and bawling and he SAVED YOU and you're so happy you didnt get hurt. Like the duality of him touching you to comfort you but probably getting blood on you maybe even ALL OVER YOU because he's just touching you that much and you're clinging to him that much
I feel like there are times where Val may intentionally NOT save you to use it as some sort of punishment/lesson to manipulate you with later but I feel like the ways in which he would knowingly allow his darling to be hurt are nuanced and contextual. He'd pay a guy to mug you and rough you up to teach you a lesson about leaving the studio on your own, or set up a fake kidnapping, but you come back into the studio ACTUALLY hurt? Stabbed, limping, whatever? He's furious. No one gets to hurt you. Everyone in this entire fucking circle of Hell should know who you belong to by this point and if they're hurting you, they're disrespecting HIM
..... and also you're his cute widdle baby and he doesn't want his boo getting hurt, at least not in a non fun non sexy way 🥺❤️ see sweetie, this is exactly why you should listen to him at all times and never argue with him on anything ❤️
285 notes
·
View notes
Text
જ⁀➴ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋 . . . (𝐆. 𝐑.)
— two things are definite: you like george, and george likes you. unfortunately, you two seem to be the only ones who don't see it.
+ part of my 'be my valentine' mixtape series ! love this song and i was so excited to use it for a george fic, so i hope you enjoy <3
“oh mate, you’re joking.”
“shut up!” george huffed, running the palm of his hand down his face in exasperation. “it was not that bad.”
he could defend himself all he liked, because in spite of that, george knew it really was.
this was possibly the third time this month that george had fumbled his chance to ask you out, and alex was beginning to grow tired of his friend’s constant pining and lingering stares.
“here’s what you’re gonna do,” alex said, his voice growing more serious as he looked george dead in the eyes. “you’re gonna ring y/n, and you’re gonna tell her you forgot something at her place. a shirt, socks, anything.”
"but i haven't?"
"not the point," alex groaned. "you're gonna tell her that, so you have an excuse to turn up there. this is your chance. don't be a stupid. tell her you think she's cool, that you like her, something to charm her."
george still wasn't convinced. his brows were pinched together as he ran over alex's plan in his mind, able to find a thousand different ways it could go wrong for him.
"right. and what happens when she realises that i haven't actually left anything there, and i just look like a massive twat for showing up?"
alex wasn't sure that he could take any more.
"mate, you can't just sit around and wait for some sort of fairy tale ending to come out of nowhere for you. at some point, you're just going to have to confess to her."
though he was being assertive, alex was still trying to be supportive, laying a hand on george's shoulder and delivering a friendly pat of encouragement.
"i can promise you she's probably thinking the exact same thing right now, anyways."
george scoffed, his answer hanging in the air unspoken. as if.
unbeknownst to george, alex was a lot closer to the truth than even he may have realised.
the events of the afternoon were playing on a loop in your mind as you tried to dissect every last piece of your interaction with george, from how he'd greeted you - a brief side hug and a smile - to how he'd said goodbye - a weak effort to get you to stay and a silly, yet endearing, wave.
was this your life now? driving yourself mad over even the smallest little details, all because of some stupid feelings?
when you'd first started developing somewhat of a crush on the mercedes driver, you made a promise to yourself that it would never become a thing. and you had kept that promise for roughly four months, until you made a huge error: revealing your feelings to someone else.
ever since you had let it slip to a friend that you actually quite liked george in ways that far surpassed the platonic label, you'd been - for lack of a better phrase - absolutely fucked.
now you had people to fuel your delusions, try to convince you that george had to feel the same way, and no, of course he wasn't just being polite when he offered you his jacket, you fool. outside interference and reassurance should have made you more confident in your feelings, maybe even push you to confess, but instead they'd had the opposite effect.
the weight of the word 'hopeless' in hopeless romantic had really started to resonate with you. though you weren't allowed to dwell on your misfortunes for too long.
some may have chalked it up to fate, some may have attributed it to a divine power wanting to laugh at a poor mortal, but whatever the reason, your phone rang with an incoming call from george.
the stupid candid photo you’d taken as a contact picture flashed up on your screen, and the automatic smile that painted your lips made you want to yell in frustration.
"y/n, hi!"
pathetic was the perfect word to describe you, thanks to how utterly gone you were for george, as the mere sound of your name leaving his lips was enough to make your heart jump.
"sorry, know i only saw you a few hours ago, but i just remembered that i think i left one of my mercedes shirts at yours when i was there the other day."
you didn't even think twice about it, why would you? george had left countless items at your place in the past, and he would leave more in the future.
"no problem. y'can always come by and get it, i'll try and grab it for you."
george's chest ached at how ready to help you were.
"yeah? you're a lifesaver, y/n, really. i'll set off now, should be there in about fifteen minutes."
brief 'see you later's were exchanged, and the moment you set your phone down onto the coffee table, your hunt began.
you didn't recall seeing one of george's shirts anywhere around, but previous mishaps had enlightened you to the fact that things could turn up anywhere. you'd thought that the shoes buried right underneath your bed were odd, until a sock turned up in your bread bin a few weeks later.
nothing was off limits anymore.
yet, somehow, no matter where you looked, you couldn't find the fucking shirt. frustration slowly nibbled at your mind, the sound of a knock being the only thing to break you from your frantic search.
an annoyingly attractive george russell greeted you when you swung open the front door.
in all of the years he'd known you, george thought this was the most adorable you'd looked.
your hair was in disarray, the strands unkempt as though you'd been running your hands through it over and over again. your face shone a little, and you were clearly a little out of breath, if the small, panting gasps you took were anything to go by.
your apartment was a mess, and george quickly realised that you'd turned your entire place practically upside down to try and find a shirt that wasn't even there in the first place.
guilt began to bubble up in his throat, and george hoped that, after today, it would all be worth it. he only had one chance, and he wasn't going to fuck it up.
before he could allow doubt to creep into his mind and sow seeds of regret, george lifted a hand to cup your jaw. the feeling of your soft skin against his palm elicited a gasp to slip from his mouth. the parting of his lips provided you with the perfect opportunity to meld your lips together in a chaste, sweet kiss.
feelings went unspoken, for now. time would grant you the chance to properly word every last affection you harboured for one another at a later date.
besides, george was a firm believer that actions spoke louder than words, and this kiss was living proof.
george forced himself to pull back, his forehead resting against your own, and he believed that to die like this would be a blessed fate. because you were definitely going to kill him when you found out the truth.
"i lied, by the way. there was no shirt," he mumbled, blue eyes meeting yours with a wince.
"you fucking dick."
#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles#𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 becca's 'be my valentine' special#george russell#george russell x reader#george russell x you#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#f1 x you#formula one x you
216 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sin For Me
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader
Genre: Smut & Angst
Words: 5.3k+
Summary: Wanda doesn’t like feeling threatened. She also doesn’t like when someone tries to take what’s so clearly hers. Lessons needed to be learned to say the least.
Warnings: toxic!Wanda; strap-on use (r receiving); dom!Wanda; sub!reader; magic strap; rough sex; dub-con; jealous!Wanda; cumstrap; is there a breeding kink? I can't tell... Also kind of a dark fic... when I say toxic!Wanda I mean toxic as fuck.
You were seriously pissing her off and you didn’t even know it. Wanda sat back in a dark corner and watched as you laughed and chatted up some random coworker she didn’t care to learn the name of. It was far too late for you to be out, at least without Wanda by your side. After all, you had no idea Wanda had tracked down the exact bar you’d be at. She has been watching your every move for the last hour now and not once has she seen you check her phone. In fact, she watched as you actively ignored another text she sent you.
She definitely didn’t get enough communication from you tonight. After you got off work, all you sent Wanda was a simple text that read: Getting drinks with some work friends tonight. I won’t be late. Except, to Wanda, that was a blatant lie. It has definitely gotten way too late and when there was no answer to her texts or updates on your whereabouts she decided to track you down. What she found she absolutely did not like and her blood was boiling more the longer she waited and watched.
When she got there she was pretty frustrated with you already. It was rare that you would go out without Wanda and when you did it was never something that occurred after dark. Wanda loved that about you, you were a good girl for her without her even having to tell you. Right now she was regretting never being more firm. She should’ve warned you not to cross her, not give her any reasons for worry or suspicion, not to let others get too close to what was hers. Because, of course, you were hers, and she didn’t like that fact to feel threatened.
Wanda knew that you were aware she could be jealous and possessive. You’ve seen it somewhat before, but never in full force. Wanda had a growing feeling that would change tonight. After all, you were currently over there ignoring your phone and chatting up with two coworkers. And that was fine, it hadn’t pushed Wanda’s frustrations too far over the edge yet. But then when one coworker left and you still stayed, that’s when Wanda’s control started slipping. She didn’t like that you were now alone in a bar with a pretty coworker she didn’t really know. A coworker that was currently making you laugh and smile. A coworker that was also slowly inching closer to you and kept touching your leg and your arm and was just overall way too close. Wanda would never allow someone else to act this way towards you if she was near. You should’ve known better and done the same. Wanda was seething.
She didn’t have much of a plan when she reached the bar you were at. So far all she came up with was what she was doing: sit and watch. Maybe you’d calm the storm brewing inside her by finally rejecting the other girl’s clear advances towards you. While she watched, she wondered if you were even aware of it. Did you know this girl wanted to take you home and fuck you the way only Wanda was allowed to? Wanda could see it in her thoughts, the things she wanted to do to you, to what was hers. Wanda’s hatred towards the girl and her anger towards you were growing by the minute. In her mind, you had long passed the opportunity to tell this girl clearly to back off. Yet, you hadn’t done it yet and her hopes to bed you were only increasing. Wanda’s hands were balled into tight fists and her jaw was clenched as she watched the way the girl looked you up and down. She was already thinking about the ways she could get you naked and Wanda was resisting the urge not to commit murder in such a public space.
What she saw next finally made her snap. She wasn’t sure what the girl said to you, but she definitely didn’t like the way she was leaning in your ear and whispering. With that Wanda shot up, rage pumping through her veins. She stalked towards you with determination and when she stopped right in front of you, she didn’t even give you a second to realize it was her before putting her hands on you.
“Wanda!” You were so surprised to see her. “What are you doing here?“
“You’re leaving,” Wanda said as she hauled you up off the bar stool and to your feet. “Right now.”
“Wanda, what- I was just having drinks with-“
“Do not say another fucking word.” Wanda barked and your mouth immediately snapped shut. You’ve seen Wanda angry, possibly even to this degree, but never was it directed towards you.
The grip she had on your arm was bruising as she pulled you out of the bar. You looked back at your coworker who’s eyes were wide in shock at the scene in front of her. You had a feeling you’d have to do a lot of explaining come Monday. Only, you had no idea what got into Wanda. She had come out of nowhere. You were utterly shocked by her actions. Never did you think she’d just show up at the bar to come drag you home. It wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong. Yes, maybe you should’ve checked your phone. You knew she’d be worried, but you also wanted to save what was left of your battery so you could call for an Uber. You thought you were being smart, safe, and practical even.
Yet, here you were, being towed out of the bar by your fuming girlfriend and practically shoved into her car. The slam of the car door behind you made you jump and when Wanda ripped her own door open, you couldn’t help but cower slightly away from her. If Wanda noticed, she didn’t seem phased by the negative reaction she was causing in you. She could care less if she was scaring you. In fact, maybe it was a good thing that she was. Maybe it’ll help you learn your lesson and not pull a stunt like this again.
Wanda peeled out of her parking spot in record speed. She didn’t really care about how fast she was going or how reckless she was being. All she knew was that she was getting more pissed off by the minute. It definitely seemed like you had absolutely no clue why she was so angry. And, well, you really didn’t. Not until you chanced a look at your phone. You had a couple of messages from your coworker and then, scrolling down, you saw the rest. Ten missed calls, almost as many voicemails, and countless numbers of texts all from Wanda. Some of them started out fine, asking if you were okay, where were you, when were coming home… but then there was a shift. The texts got shorter. They were no longer questions, but demands. Wanda might have been worried at first, but now she was enraged. If the texts didn’t indicate as much, you could swear you literally felt it radiating off her. Had you really been at the bar that long? It was late, but it wasn’t like you and Wanda didn’t stay out late having drinks. This was just the first time you had been out so late with coworkers.
Your mind was really trying to connect the dots on why Wanda was currently racing home, utterly silent, yet still quaking in rage. If it were you, you’d just be worried and maybe slightly angry for no call, but still you’d understand. Would she listen if you said you just wanted to make sure you had a functional phone to call an Uber? You thought maybe she was beyond reason at this point. After all, the way she spoke to you and the way she was currently grinding her teeth as she took every turn way too fast was telling you that you were in for it when you got home. So, as she drove, you just focused on getting to the bottom of this and how to fix it. Was she upset that you were with coworkers? Okay, maybe you could see that it kind of looked a little suspicious. You didn’t know how long Wanda was at the bar, for all you knew she had just gotten there and walked up to you the minute she arrived. Did she know that the night started with a large group of you? The only reason the group dwindled to just two was because you were enjoying having a nice conversation after a stressful week of work. Did Wanda really think something else was happening? Surely not, but it was your only working theory.
The rest of the ride was silent, but suffocating. The air was charged and you swore every time you risked a glance at Wanda you could see red swirl in her eyes. It wasn’t the first time you saw her so mad her control of her magic started to slip, you just never imagined you’d be the cause of it. You gulped, your nails digging into your skin where they were resting on your knees. You wanted out of her car, but at the same time you feared the storm that was coming when you finally got out.
Wanda hit the breaks a little too hard when she finally pulled up to her place. You lurched forward and fell back with a thud as she came to a full stop. “Ouch…” you whined as your head hit the back of the seat. “Wanda, come on. Why are you being like this?” Wanda just scoffed at you before swinging the car door open. You watched with dread as she walked around to your side. When she opened your door, she didn’t even give you a second to try to stand for yourself before she had a grip on your elbow and was yet again dragging you wherever she wanted you to go.
It didn’t help that Wanda was so angry her hands were shaking. So, when she went to unlock the door she was fumbling with her keys and cursing not so quietly as she struggled. You touched her hand gently, stopping her from her fight to open the door. You were surprised when she willingly let you take the keys from her and unlock the door. It was a brief moment of softness before she was pushing you through the threshold and slamming the door shut behind the two of you.
Wanda stood by the lock for a moment, her chest heaving as her rage boiled back up again. It still seemed like you barely had a clue why she was angry. Her hands gripped the door knob as she tried, and failed, to take deep, calming breaths before facing you again. Any time she tried to cool herself down, her mind zeroed in on the image of that woman touching you, touching what was hers, and you doing absolutely nothing to stop her. God, that pissed her off. Didn’t you know? How could you not know? No one could touch you now that Wanda has you. She waited patiently for you to fall for her, for you to see her, for you to know that you were only supposed to want her, and now she takes her eyes off you for one second and it’s as if you forgot all about her. Wanda wondered if you were still totally oblivious to the fact that your little friend wanted to fuck you or if you just got off on the fact that someone else wanted you? If Wanda was being logical for a moment she would know you just genuinely had no clue. It was hard for you to see what was right in front of you sometimes. That’s why Wanda was almost always there to make sure you stayed safe, stayed hers. But tonight, Wanda wasn’t being logical. Tonight Wanda was thinking the worst: That you wanted to fuck her too. That you thought you didn’t want Wanda. That you forgot you were hers. And Wanda just couldn’t have that, now could she?
When Wanda turned around, you were ready to get to the bottom of her anger. Honestly, yes, you were scared of Wanda right now, but you were also getting pretty angry too. Wanda essentially embarrassed you and manhandled you until she got you home and she did all of this in front of someone you had a professional relationship with. Yeah, you were going to have to explain to your coworker what went down Monday, but you were also not sure you’d have the guts to face her and tell her… what? That Wanda was having some sort of jealous tantrum? At least that was still your biggest theory that that’s where some of her rage was coming from. You knew Wanda was the jealous type, but this was a whole new level.
“Wanda, seriously,” You sighed as you put your hands on your hips. “What the hell?”
“You can’t see your friend anymore,” Wanda said in a monotone voice as walked up to you.
“What?” Your eyebrows shot up. “Wanda, I work with her. I’m going to have to see her. Plus you can’t just tell me what to-”
“Yes, I can.” Wanda’s eyes darkened, her voice still eerily level. Yet still, with the way she towered over you, you felt very small and outmatched in this moment. But you weren’t one to easily give up a fight and definitely not one to easily be controlled. You loved Wanda, you did, but this was quickly causing some concerns.
“No, Wanda, you absolutely can’t.” You were trying so hard to stand your ground right now. But as you saw the red swirl in her eyes yet again, you couldn’t stop yourself from shuddering. “She’s my friend too, Wanda. I like spending time with her.”
“I really suggest you stop talking before you make things worse for yourself.” Wanda’s tone was foreboding. Your eyes flicked down to her hands and you noticed that they were balled in such tight fists they shook as she clenched them. You were far beyond poking the beast now. You were encountering it face to face.
“Wanda,” Your voice was a little more unsure this time. It was getting incredibly hard to hide how intimidating she was being. Honestly, it was the fact that she wasn’t currently screaming that made it worse for you. It was her silent anger that somehow was more unsettling. “I’m not going to just stop seeing her.”
That was the wrong thing to say. That was the really really fucking wrong thing to say. You could see it in her eyes, in the way her nostrils flared. How dare you so openly disregard what she was telling you? Wanda couldn’t fathom why you’d want to spend even another second with that woman when she could give you all you wanted and more. It was like you forgot everything she’s done for you, everything she’s made you feel, everything she could give you. Wanda was all you needed, not this random girl. So, why? Why did you insist on testing Wanda’s patience so goddamn much? This behavior needed to end.
In a blink Wanda was in your personal space. Her anger had finally boiled over. She grabbed your chin hard, pulling your head back so she could make sure you were looking her in the eye. She leaned in, her nostrils flaring as she practically fumed with rage. “Do I need to remind you,” she squeezed your jaw in her grip as she spoke, “that I own you?”
“Wanda,” you whimpered. “You’re starting to scare me.”
“But you like it don’t you?” She practically purred as she gave you an unsettling grin. “Don’t pretend that you don’t. God,” she sneared, “I’ve tried, I really have. But you make it so fucking hard, don’t you?” Wanda really did try. She didn’t want you to see this side of her, at least not for a much longer time. But you needed to learn and she needed to be sure you wouldn’t ever think to run off with another person. This was your fault really. At least, that’s what Wanda believed. “How am I supposed to hold back when you purposely push my buttons?”
Your hand flew up to Wanda’s wrist, trying to pry her hand off your chin. She was holding your face in a bruising grip and the look in her eye was nerve wracking. “I didn’t mean to.” You tried your best to keep your voice level, but it cracked as you spoke. With Wanda’s grip on you, all you wanted to do now was calm her down. Who knew how far Wanda would go. “I’m sorry, Wanda, I-“
“It’s a little late for apologies, now isn’t it?” Wanda hissed. She released her grip on you and you rubbed at your jaw where her nails had dug in. Wanda, in the meantime, was pacing back and forth in front of you and all it did was add to your uneasiness at her volatile mood.
“H-How can I make it up to you?” You begged. At this point, honestly, you’d agree to everything she asked if it calmed her down. There was a whisper in the back of your mind that strangely grew louder the minute she released you. A whisper that wasn’t there before, that said she might leave. Suddenly, that whisper ensnared you in a new type of fear. Despite Wanda’s aggression towards you, despite your anger at her treatment, a fear crept up your spine at the thought of losing her. She could so easily find someone else and she was, after all, all you wanted for so long. No, you needed to stop protesting, you needed to make things right. Even if you didn’t believe you were at fault.
Your change in tone did actually please Wanda. A satisfied smirk threatened to break out on Wanda’s face, but she wouldn’t drop her anger yet. You weren’t in the clear, and since you were so willing to make it up to Wanda, make it up you would. For a moment, she almost felt bad for you. Poor thing, you had no idea what was in store.
Wanda walked away wordlessly. Your head turned with her movement as she walked across the room and onto her living room couch. Silently, she sat back on the couch, legs spread. And you watched with wide eyes as she popped the buttons of her pants open. With a flick of her wrist, you stared in shock as a bright red, strap-on appeared, peaking out of where her pants were unbuttoned. “Come here. Ride my cock,” she ordered as she sat back. You looked at it for a moment and then back up at her eyes as she waited for you with an annoyed expression on her face, you were assuming it was because of your hesitation. You couldn’t help it. That thing was big. “Well?” Wanda urged impatiently. You gulped and walked forward. Your hands moved to your own pants and you started to fumble with them as you got closer. Wanda’s impatience only grew and with another brief twirl of her fingers, you were suddenly naked from the waist down.
When you reached the couch your movements faltered. The closer you got the bigger it looked. With each step you took closer to her you were trying to picture in your head if that thing could actually fit inside you. You crawled onto her lap at a snail’s pace, nervous to find out if it really could. Still, though, you wanted to please her. The shift in you, that whisper, was even louder. If you could show her that you could be cooperative, maybe that will ease part of your nerves. Maybe it would be the fix for both of you. She wouldn’t be as angry, you wouldn’t be as insecure. You could show her that you could be good, that you did love her and would listen. In return, maybe she’d ease your mind and show you that you’re not easily replaceable, that she loved you too. She must if she was so angry about you having drinks alone with a friend. Right?
Straddling her waist finally, you put your hands on either of her shoulders to steady yourself. With great caution you lifted yourself up slightly, lining up the toy with your entrance. You took a deep breath and slowly eased yourself down. It wasn’t easy, this was bigger than you’ve taken before and as you slowly slid down you felt the slight burn of your walls being stretched around Wanda’s faux cock. On Wanda’s end it was driving her crazy to watch you do this. Your hesitation and nervousness only spurred her on more. Despite how angry she was, she couldn’t help but appreciate how good you were being for her already. This shift in you definitely didn’t go unnoticed to her. You slid further down on her cock and all Wanda could think was that you just felt so good. She was getting impatient to feel herself all the way inside you though. So, to fix this, without warning, Wanda grabbed your hips and pushed you all the way down.
You immediately grabbed fistfuls of her shirt, crying out as you felt her enter you completely. Wanda couldn’t stop the low moan that fell from her lips as she held you still down on her cock. “Fuck, you’re tight,” she groaned. “Come on, move your hips.”
“It- It’s big, Wanda,” you whined.
“You can take it,” Wanda hissed, her hands on your hips urging you to start grinding down on top of her. “I know you can.” You didn’t think you had much choice. Wanda already seemed drunk on the feeling of your walls squeezing around her cock. This wasn’t the first time Wanda used magic to get off while inside you and you knew she was doing it now. If you were being honest, the way she made your walls stretch, mixed with Wanda’s expressive reactions was turning you on more and soon enough you were starting to bounce on her lap to fuck yourself on her cock. Any residual thoughts of defiance and shame finally leaving your mind as you felt the burn of her cock stretching you out turn into mind blowing pleasure.
At some point, you weren’t sure when, Wanda had taken full control. It was no longer on your own volition that your hips were moving, it was Wanda’s powerful grip on them that had you grinding hard into her cock as she fucked up into you. With the way your hips were moving and how tight you were around her, Wanda’s head fell back, lost in how good it all felt. You were being so good, she thought. Finally, this is exactly what she needed from you. As you practically let her use you as a fucktoy, mindlessly moaning on top of her as she got off, she knew she had you now. There was no way you’d forget who you belonged to when Wanda was fucking her cock up into you, two seconds away from coming and painting your pussy with her cum.
When Wanda forced you to speed up on top of her she couldn’t hold back much more. Her moans were matching yours as they filled the otherwise silent house. Your hands were holding on so tightly to her shoulders as you tried your best to keep up with the pace Wanda was making you set. Your walls were tightening around Wanda so deliciously and she knew you were close to the edge too. Wanda shot up suddenly, one of her arms wrapping around your waist so she could hold you steady while she fucked up into you with a brutal strength you honestly didn’t know she had. It took only a few seconds of this before you felt Wanda finally fall over the edge, filling you up with her warm cum that immediately had you follow behind her.
Your body slumped onto her, your head pressed to her chest as you tried to catch your breath. You could feel the burn in the muscles of your thighs from the way she had fucked you. You felt sore, you felt tired, but Wanda on the other hand was not done. Her chest suddenly swelled with a feeling of pride and possession as she felt a mixture of her cum and yours drip from your entrance and onto her. It was working her up yet again and she decided she wasn’t done with you just yet. After all, she had to thoroughly make sure you knew who you belonged to, didn’t she?
Without warning, without any word, Wanda had swiftly maneuvered you so that your back hit the couch and she was now the one on top of you. Sitting back on her knees for a moment she looked down at you, a hungry look in her eye. She decided she needed to feel all of you, so with a flick of the wrist suddenly the remainder of your clothes, as well as her own, were gone. Then she leaned down, dragging her body across yours as she went. Her knees rested next to both sides of your hips and her hands were planted next to either side of your head. You were completely pinned in by her.
Wanda paused, humming as she moved one hand to slowly drag her nails down your body. You looked so vulnerable like this, naked beneath her. You really were all hers and she knew, as she slid her cock back inside you, that nothing would ever threaten that again. She wouldn’t let it.
She didn’t take long to pick up a fast pace again. Not that you minded, your whole body felt like it was on fire, but in the most satisfying way. All your senses were filled with her, your head swam with thoughts of her and only her. It didn’t take long before Wanda’s full weight was pressed against you, her head buried in your neck as she pumped into you. Her hands, now free from holding herself above you, moved to your legs, sliding down behind your knees. With her hold on you there, she spread you open more. Her hands moved to hook both your legs over her waist so her cock could pump inside you even deeper. It had your head swimming.
“I’m going to fill you with my cum again,” She groaned as her pace picked up. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You love when I cum inside you. You need my cum, don’t you? Say it.” Her hips were slamming into yours, the sound of skin against skin echoing throughout the room. At this point the thought of forming a coherent sentence seemed almost impossible. Wanda let go of one of your legs, reaching up to grab your chin. She pulled back just enough to see your face and, to your displeasure, her pace started to slow. You whined in protest, but her hand squeezed hard. “Say it.”
“I- Wanda,” you whined, trying your hardest to please her. “I need your cum. I- I love when you fill me with it.” Any other day you’d be more hesitant to talk like that with Wanda. The way she was talking, the way she was making you talk, it was all very new for you. You were seeing so many new sides of Wanda tonight, but as her hips picked their pace back up and her faux cock continued to hit just the right spot inside you, you were started to think you didn’t mind this kind of possessiveness. Not when it felt like she was claiming your entire body. Not when you so desperately wanted to feel her cum inside you again.
Wanda was almost as gone as you were though. The way you whined and took her cock was enthralling to her. When you finally did as you were told, the pathetic whimper in your voice as you spoke, it had Wanda totally high off the way you felt, how you sounded, and the way you looked underneath her. “Your pussy feels so good,” she growled into your ear before letting go of your chin. Your head fell back onto the couch as her pace disoriented you. “It’s like it was made for me. It belongs to me. You belong to me.” You couldn’t manage to say anything in response, your thighs shaking from another orgasm that was fast approaching.
Your pussy was squeezing her in all the right ways again. Wanda never got tired of it. In fact, she might argue that she was addicted to it. It was all so perfect, the sounds you made while she was fucking you, the way she could feel you tightened around her faux cock. Wanda mentally thanked the gods for her magic in that moment as she felt you tense around her once again.
With a desperate groan, Wanda’s hips began to falter in their rhythm, but that only made her pump her cock harder into you as she moved erratically. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your whole body was trembling uncontrollably as you neared the edge yet again. And again, you could tell that Wanda was approaching it with you. At this point she was yet again practically using your body as toy to fuck so she could get off. Her moans and the grip she had on your thighs said as much. It was the way she groaned in your ear and whispered about how she loved filling you with her cum as she approached her own edge that sent you over. Wanda kept going as you came, her movements getting more and more sloppy as she got closer and closer until finally she came inside you. Your whole body shuddered as you felt even more cum paint you on the inside.
Wanda pulled out, peeling herself off you finally and sitting back to look at you again. Her eyes fixated on the way her own cum leaked out slowly from your entrance. She would go again just to see how much she could fill you until you felt entirely too full of her cum, but she knew you were spent. Your body still trembled and your chest was heaving as you were trying to catch your breath. She was rough with you tonight. More so than she ever had been. But then again, you did test her tonight and you needed to learn.
It took you a minute to come down from how hard she made you cum. Wanda just sat patiently and waited for you to regain composure. Her fingertips brushing against your bare thighs here and there as a way to sooth you. She couldn’t help but admire you as you laid beneath her. You were such a sight… absolutely ruined for Wanda and Wanda alone. Her eyes fell to a few bruises she left behind on your thighs from how rough she treated you, but in her mind, it made you all the more beautiful. Wanda hummed in appreciation as her nails gently dragged down your stomach, leaving faint red marks in their wake. The shift from angry to gentle was a welcome one after your body continued to struggle to come back from how hard you came.
All you could do was continue to lay there, still too exhausted to react. “You’re all mine,” Wanda said that more to herself than to you, but still you nodded your agreement weakly. Wanda couldn’t stop the proud smile at your action. So her actions got through to you. Good, Wanda thought. At least you know who you belong to. Your lesson has been learned. Now, it was time to deal with her other problem. After all, she just couldn’t have that girl near you when she so clearly had unacceptable intentions towards you…
taglist: @desperate-gay @storiesofsvu @storiesofsvu2-0 (idk which one to primarily tag oops lol) @demonicbaby666
Join my taglist here
#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda x reader#wanda x you#scarlet witch x reader#scarlet witch#wanda maximoff smut#marvel fic#five-bi-five-mind
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
*TW*
Hello!!! I absolutely love platonic yanderes with teenage reader so can I ask for a fic where the teen!reader is basically a traumatized being. They have experienced hell throughout their life from mental abuse to physical abuse. Like I mean, they have gotten in many dangerous situations which ended up with police involved (kidnapped, assaulted, murder attempt). Ofc the reader never really did anything wrong, they were just an innocent child till everything went downhill. They don't have any family members left leading them to stay at an orphanage. Anddd you could say the orphanage people aren't the nicest. And their mental health has become so fucked up that they had attempted suicide.
You don't have to do this if ur uncomfortable ofc. Sorry about how triggering the request might be
On the roof
Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD Cast x GN! Teen! Traumatized! Reader
Description: You are on the rooftop in the middle of the night.
Trigger warning: Suicide attempt. Abuse. Child abuse. Kidnapping. Assault. Attempted murder.
List of Suicide hotline numbers can be found here and here.
Warning: One swear word. English is my second language.
__________________________________
You silently opened the door, that leads to the roof of an orphanage. With your phone in hand, you take a few steps forward.
The door closed behind you.
You just stand here. You were silent.
You were here. You wanted to end this.
You sighed and looked around.
Should you just... Go to the edge and jump? It's not like someone would care about you.
You didn't bother with the last note.
No one would care about the reason.
You will simply become a name in documents.
You just wanted to be heard.
You mindlessly looked at your phone.
Should you take it with you?
Or left it here, so someone else would use it?
Your gaze stopped at the "BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan" icon. Will the new owner delete it? Or will continue your progress?
You tapped on the icon. You didn't leave a note.
Yet, you "talked" to BSD Characters so often, that it seems right, to let them hear your last words.
Your reasons.
You opened the Main Menu and choose 'Meeting Hall' option.
The picture of ADA Office appeared. And Chibis of all BSD Characters appeared.
This new option was cute. You liked petting chibis.
All chibis 'looked' at you.
And you finally spoke.
"Mom was strange..."
________
Your mom was strange.
She smelled funny. Like water everyone told you not to drink.
Sometimes, she stared at you. Stared for a long time.
And there were rules.
1. Don't cry.
2. Don't annoy mom.
3. You eat last.
4. If you stayed past curfew, you will sleep outside.
5. Don't tell anyone about your home life.
At least, she let you play outside as much as you want. Mom liked, when you were away from home.
*******
You were five, when you got kidnapped.
That night, you wake up to get some water.
Mom saw you.
In her eyes, you broke a rule.
You were sleeping outside.
One moment you were trying to get comfortable under the porch.
Next moment a man in a mask was dragging you in a van.
Three days.
You were in a dark, scary place for three days.
On a third day you heard two men talking.
"What do you mean, that mother didn't realize, that kid were missing?!"
_____
"Still... Mom paid the ransom. Kidnappers left me. It takes three more days for police to find me..."
____
You were standing near a police officer. And your mom finally arrived to the police station to collect you.
You walked to her, your head was low.
She hit you.
You screamed.
You collapsed on the floor, and your mother bent over you. She hissed and pushed you in the side with her feet.
"Are you satisfied, brat? Get up and go pack your belongings, we’re moving to a shed."
"You should treat your kid more kindly..." the officer grumbled. Your mother squealed.
"Kindly?! This brat had ruined my whole life!” Your mom was mad. She screamed like a fury, jumped in place and gave cowering you blow after blow. You didn’t try to dodge. You just trembled, curled up into a ball.
"Hubby ran away as soon as he gets it inside me! But dear relatives didn’t let me throw it away. They didn’t let me give it to an orphanage! They said that I need to raise this child! They stood up for a little bastard! But now, when I need to pay debt, they are nowhere to be found! They say I play cards too much! I'm just unlucky! Things are not going my way! The house is mortgaged! I poured all my savings into the last card game and won! I would pay off all my debts! And because of this thing, I now have to live in a shed! What will I tell my family now?! What will others say about me?!"
Officer heard enough.
The CPS were called.
_______
"... They were trying to find my father... Until then, grandmother and grandfather agreed to took me in..."
_______
You were six.
Your grandfather sat on the opposite side of the table.
Your textbook and notebook were laying on the table before you.
And your grandfather was talking.
"I finished checking your homework. As I expected, you are a little idiot. A stupid, worthless waste of space. You have made few stupid mistakes. You wrote numbers in a wrong order.
Grandfather opened your notebook. A red paste was covering the page.
2 + 1 = 3 1 + 2 = 3
3 + 1 = 4. 1 + 3 = 4
"So..." Grandfather take a ruler.
"Give me your hand. It will be ten hits for every wrong number."
________
"...it took two year to find my father. He had a family. And I... I was a child from affair. They never let me live it down... For years"
_______
You were nine.
The blow, when it came, took all of your air out of your lungs. You would have fallen if not for your two... "siblings" holding you.
"It feels good, giving a good beating to a dirtbag, right?"
The next hit was in your left eye. You managed to close it in time.
But it will be swollen.
You felt hot breath on your face.
"Your hair is too good for a bastard child."
Your sister brought the scissors up to your hair.
Snip, snip, snip. Cutting right alongside the scalp, sending your hair like leaves swirling to the ground.
Then scissors were plunged into your stomach.
"Die, child of a dirty whore."
______
"...Police was called. They were arrested. But I remained with father and his wife..."
_____
You were twelve.
You were going food shopping. Big bags were heavy, you were tried.
You still need to clean up the house and make dinner.
When you were attacked, because someone tied to rob you, you didn't even care.
You only knew, that, you will be beaten again for being late. And for losing food.
You were long past gone. There were no point in carrying about yourself.
~~~~~~
You were thirteen.
Your father, his wife and you were going to the funeral.
Your father's uncle died.
Now he only has his wife and kids. And you.
He noticed your gaze in a reflection.
He yelled at you for staring.
And he crashed.
You spent three hours in a broken car.
You were the only survivor.
_______
"... I was sent to an orphanage. I am too old to have any chance to be adopted. And I wasn't the only one, who had no chance to have a family..."
______
You tasted dirt and blood. An old rug was thrown over your head, to make it harder for you to fight back.
Someone pressed a knee on the back of your neck and held your face against the ground.
A kick in the side made you roll on your back.
Another person began to push down on your neck with an arm.
You began to struggle, thrashing about with your legs and beating them against the floor, but it was no good.
There were other kids around—at least a dozen of them. One of them would do something. One of them was sure to see that things were taking too far. Your vision began to go fuzzy.
Caretakers saved you only because the noise didn't let them watch TV.
________
"I couldn't take it anymore. I... thank you... Thank you for making me happy... For being the only happy thing in my life."
You finished talking and put your phone on the ground. You stand up and walked towards the edge.
You heard a loud noise. You turned around.
BSD Characters were standing behind you. Real.
And you were still standing near the edge. You were silent. Nikolai lift his overcoat and put his hand into the portal.
His head reappeared near you. You jumped away. Now you were even closer to the edge.
"No... I... I don't want to... Don't come closer..." whispered you. You took another step. You were almost here.
"[Y/N], if you go back, I will give you a hug!"
You froze and turned around.
Kenji Miyazawa made a step forward. He opened his arms, offering a hug.
"I promise, I will give you a hug. Come here... You really need a hug."
You trembled. You moved towards Kenji.
Step. After step. After step.
Kenji was standing here. Offering a hug.
You launched yourself forward, wrapping your arms around Kenji. He immediately hugged you back.
You cried. For the first time in years.
In a few minutes, you were in a middle of a large group hug.
________
You are fifteen.
You are living with your family.
You still have a long path to recovery.
And you are not alone.
BSD Cast will stay with you.
And will make sure, that you will never be hurt again.
#self-awarebsd#self-awareau#bungou stray dogs au#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd anime#bsd x gender neutral reader#gender neutral reader#platonic#tw: sucidal thoughts#tw: child abuse#tw: abuse#tw: kidnapping#tw: attempted murder
151 notes
·
View notes
Text
In short, I thought about it most of the night and made some notes on my phone.
I'm still translating part 3, but while I'm on vacation and have enough free time, I want to write headcannons.
specifically the jealous Leon. He is almost forty and his girlfriend is just over twenty. Don't get me wrong. I share moderate jealousy and excessive jealousy. For me, these are different things, so "WARNING! if you don't like reading this, just skip this post.
You have an absolutely healthy relationship (as far as possible with Leon's psyche). You don't give him any reason to doubt your loyalty to him.
He considers himself too "old" for all these hangouts, preferring to spend time in peace and stability after a long mission, but you are a young girl who wants to have fun with friends from time to time (among which there are guys).
Leon has nothing against your entertainment and does not interfere with communication with others. Although, some selfish part of him wants you to spend more time with him, but he won't talk about it out loud.
Of course, he understands that others may like you too. You see, Leon still doesn't understand what you saw in him when you could date someone of your peers. It all started as a silly joke, and then you both wanted more from communicating with each other. And it's not just about sex.
You took care of Leon when you stayed at his place overnight, and in the morning you made breakfast with coffee, asking if you brewed it too hard. And while Leon is having breakfast, you always kiss him on the back of the head. Something that Ada or anyone else has never done.
After that, the cute attentions from you mean too much to Leon. He is a bit old-fashioned and will probably ask for official consent if you want to be in a relationship with him, despite his frequent absence and age difference.
“Do I need to sign some kind of agreement? Like, yes, I agree on all points to become your girlfriend? Signature and today's date?“ - You laugh with Leon, adjusting the shirt you stole from him in the morning when he says that he does not have such a paper and an oral agreement will be enough.
Leon will in no way publicly cover his personal life because of his work. Putting you in potential danger is not what he wants at all. Yes, he is happy to spend time with you, but if someone asks him about your relationship, he will say that there is nothing serious about it. Just a girl who agreed to spend the night with him. And only the closest (and there are almost no such people at all, so the circle narrows down to Claire, Helena and, perhaps, then Hannigan) will know about his real attitude towards you.
He also likes to take care of you. In general, he will gladly take a shower with you, soaping his head with shampoo after which he makes funny hairstyles so that he can laugh with you about it later.
He takes care of you if you have a painful period / you have a cold / just not in the mood. To show reciprocal care for a partner is a joy to him.
He won't show any signs of jealousy until you tell him that the main character of the movie/series is too gorgeous and you wouldn't mind marrying him.
Of course it's a joke. He understands it himself, but it hurt him unpleasantly.
It will never go to the point of absurdity. It's just that Leon doesn't quite like it when he accidentally sees you in correspondence with a friend discussing some cute actor/model/singer or other public personality admiring his beauty and charisma.
"Come on, he's not that good!" - in the end, he can't stand it when he's already in bed with you.
“Who?" - You ask innocently, stupidly blinking your eyes and looking straight at Leon.
“That guy from the movie. You can't do this trick in real life, it's a fucking special effect. And anyway, you don't like him, but the one he plays. I doubt he's ever held a real gun in his life.”
After that, Leon will lie down on the other side, leaving you completely perplexed.
It's stupid to be jealous of the handsome guy from the movie, he knows it himself. He just thinks that his age can still become an obstacle to your relationship, especially when he is often not at home and he is so much attached to you.
However, if some brat decides to start flirting with you thinking that "a lonely young girl needs company" Leon will immediately appear out of nowhere grabbing you by the waist and taking you with him.
At the same time, he will send a scathing look to the man.
Sometimes Leon can be very sarcastic towards you, but then he himself will feel guilty for it.
I think the longer he is in a stable relationship, the stronger his love for his partner becomes, and he doesn't care how much younger you are!
He loves you, and the thought that you might leave him for someone else bothers him. Therefore, sometimes Leon takes flirting with guys with hostility.
He is not one of those who will make a scandal out of the blue, but most likely will hold an explanatory conversation with you at home.
He just wants to make sure that your relationship with him is not a fun game for you.
Maybe he just took a friendly conversation like that, but you don't consider a conversation with a friend to be flirting.
It will be done professionally and unnoticeably (until morning), but Leon will leave you noticeable marks. How were you supposed to know that a sweet kiss on your neck would turn into a hickey?
Pretty hard to hide if it's summer or spring outside.
But Leon doesn't regret judging by his smug grin.
You're his woman. Of course you have complete freedom of action, but that asshole will know that you have someone and there is nothing to bother with an invitation to a date.
#leon kennedy#leon x reader#leon s kennedy#leon scott kennedy#Leon#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil x reader#re#resident evil headcanons#headcanon#leon kennedy headcanons#reader
554 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ripple Down My Spine
WC: 2,3K
Relationship: Phantom/Dewdrop/Rain
Tags: degradation, praise, cock rings, anal, transmasc dew, vaginal sex, orgasm delay/denial, multiple orgasms, hand jobs, some piss too, creampie, temperature play, needy phantom
It's 02.15 a.m. and Phantom's cock is not letting him sleep. Being too lazy and too lonely to take care of it himself, he wanders into Rain and Dew's bedroom.
Notes: Written in collaboration with @mis4dv3nture
Read under the cut or on AO3.
He couldn’t sleep.
He kept tossing and turning in his nest for hours now, growling at offending bed sheets when they wrapped around his legs.
Phantom was unbelievably horny.
Swiss laughed at him once, comparing him to a human teenager, getting hot and bothered over everything and anything. He supposed the multi ghoul was right.
Phantom could go to someone, ask for help. He could also try to fix his problem himself, but he was met with a scary lack of motivation. His brain was too tired, even if his body wasn’t, what would he even fantasize about? Swiss, Aurora, Ra-
What if he went to Rain?
He remembered the water ghoul telling him it was okay for him to go into his and Dewdrop’s room, even without knocking, at any time. For any reason, too, no matter if he was horny, needed a hug, or was just bored.
Phantom doubted Rain had sporting a boner on the list of acceptable excuses to wake them up at - he glanced at his phone - 2.15 in the morning, though.
But he was so, so lonely and aching and annoyed at his goddamn cock’s moodiness.
So, Phantom tumbled out of his mess of a bed, and padded over to the door. He crossed the den’s main corridor with a sigh and was standing in front of wooden doors adorned with two triangles in no time. He grabbed the knob and quietly let himself in, giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the complete darkness that the bedroom was drowned in.
When Phantom could finally see enough for his gaze to focus on Rain and Dew, fast asleep, his chest warmed up.
He didn't want to wake them up.
They looked so lovely like that, cuddled up together, sleeping so peacefully.
But he felt so damn needy.
Maybe he should just go back to his room, try to sleep and forget about it. Or maybe he could just jerk off by himself, all alone in his bed, with some toys to make it feel better, fantasizing about getting absolutely ruined by those two.
But he was so lonely.
He quietly moved a step towards their bed as Dew pulled himself closer to Rain with a soft, high pitched snore. Phantom smiled, that scene was so adorable.
And they looked so comfy.
Maybe, if he just snuggled with them he would have just forgotten about how horny he was feeling.
Maybe, hugging those two ghouls would have helped him to finally get some sleep.
Maybe…
The quint ghoul slowly approached the bed, then hesitated for a second to give them a better look before he found a spot between them to position himself. He carefully slipped between them, trying his best to not wake them up. And damn, that felt so comfortable.
Too comfortable.
As he tried to readjust his position, Dewdrop woke up, “Bug, what's going on?”
Fuck.
“Dew, what's happening?” Rain woke up too, his deep sleepy voice just got Phantom's situation worse.
“Oh, what do we have here?” Dewdrop said with a smirk as he gently caressed the quint ghoul's obvious boner with the back of his hand.
“Looks like someone’s feeling needy tonight, huh?” Rain teased him, sinking his claws into his hips. The quint ghoul squirmed. After all, maybe he didn't feel that guilty about waking them up.
“‘m sorry,” still, Phantom apologized. Slightly fake, but he did hope Rain and Dewdrop were still sleepy enough to not notice his lack of remorse.
“Such an insatiable little whore, hm?” the fire ghoul murmured into his ear, shifting to glue his warm chest to Phantom’s naked back. A shiver went through him at the overwhelming warmth, cock kicking in his flannel pants.
“Y- yeah, I- oh,” the quint ghoul whined, trailing off into a moan when Rain’s cold hands ended up on his thighs, kneading at what little fat he had there. It hasn’t been even two minutes and he was already out of his mind.
“Fucking slut,” Rain spat, letting his claws dig into flesh every few squeezes, most definitely leaving small, red indents. “Could’ve just taken care of yourself, but no, gotta come wake us up. Selfish bitch.”
Sound of ripping fabric, as the water ghoul deemed Phantom’s sleep pants no longer tolerable, was drowned out by his whorish moan.
“Do you have to be so fucking loud?” Dewdrop’s sharp teeth teased the skin of his neck. “Are we not enough for you, do you want to wake the whole goddamn Abbey up?”
“No, n- no, I… please, Rain-” all Phantom could do was whine and moan, already ruined. He needed more, he was painfully hard and leaking, he felt himself dripping into the hollow of Rain’s hip where the water ghoul’s cold body was pressed against him.
“Shut your filthy mouth before we kick you out,” he snarled, tears gathering in Phantom’s eyes. Everyone knew he loved some good degradation. Especially if the words spat with venom weren’t that far from reality. He really was a desperate whore.
The quint ghoul cried out when one of Dewdrop’s hot hands moved to toy with his pebbled nipples, the other one coming down to squeeze his ass, dip between his cheeks. Rain kept his possessive grip on Phantom’s hip, painfully close to where he needed him the most, his other hand wrapping loosely around his throat, fingers tapping against his pulse.
“Please… I need…” Phantom tried to beg for some action, Rain's grip on his throat got tighter.
Without any warning, Dewdrop slipped a finger inside of him, the quint ghoul whining loudly at that sudden warm contact.
“So wet…” the fire ghoul teased him, “you really are a little whore, aren't you?”
Rain finally wrapped his cold hand around his length, looking at him with a smirk.
“And so damn hard,” he followed Dewdrop, “it must be so painful.”
Phantom frantically nodded, Rain's cold touch on his dick and Dewdrop’s warm finger sliding in and out of him were driving him insane.
The fire ghoul added another finger, he got faster, rougher. Rain's talented hand started working him and Phantom couldn't help but cry and moan in pleasure, muttering curses and desperate please’s.
“You're pathetic,” Dewdrop spat out as he slipped in a third finger. The quint ghoul knew how pathetic he was tilting his hips to follow both Rain and Dew's moves, shivering at their temperature difference.
But it felt so damn good. A hot sensation started building in his lower belly.
“Think I'm close…” he whimpered grabbing Rain's waist, “fuck, fuck, I'm gonna-”
He didn't notice the two ghouls winking at each other.
“You're not doing anything, you fucking slut,” Rain squeezed at the base of his dick as Dewdrop slid his fingers out of him to turn around and start looking for something in his drawer. Phantom felt on the verge of tears.
Dewdrop rolled on his back and quickly tossed away his pants. He spread his legs open and teasingly looked at the quint ghoul.
“Come here, baby,” he called him, circling his own clit with his left middle finger, hiding something in his right hand, “be a good whore and make me feel good.”
As Phantom positioned himself between his legs, Dewdrop put the cock ring he was holding on his dick. Without even giving the young ghoul the time to realize what was happening, Dew pushed Phantom’s length deep inside of his cunt.
“Fuck… Dew,” he moaned as Dew's clenched around him, burning hot.
“Shut up,” the water ghoul quickly positioned himself behind him, grabbing his ass with both his hands. “You're so fucking insatiable, you're embarrassing.”
Phantom felt the cold tip of his dick pressing against his entrance.
“Would you mind making both of us feel good?” Rain asked with a grin, wrapping his hand again around the quint ghoul's throat.
“Use… me…” he moaned louder than he expected, still trying his best to properly fuck Dewdrop, “p- please.”
Without hesitation Rain pushed himself all inside of him, whispering an almost unhearable good whore in Phantom's ear. Tears started rolling down his cheeks as the quint ghoul kept whimpering desperately at that double stimulation.
All he could do was whine and moan as he was being used like a toy. Rain’s hard thrusts and his hands gripping Phantom’s hips made him fuck into Dewdrop, completely lost in pleasure himself.
The pressure in his cock was painful, the ring squeezing him in all the wrong ways, contrasting to the heavenly warmth and wetness of the fire ghoul he was buried in. Phantom was sure he was going to explode soon.
“Rain, Rainy, I- I’m close, fuck,” Dewdrop moaned from under him. The quint ghoul’s stomach clenched at the way Dew didn’t even acknowledge him.
“Touch yourself, baby,” Rain cooed over Phantom’s shoulder. “Come on, you can do it. Cum for me.”
It took no more than three soft touches of his own fingers over his clit to get Dewdrop to moan, long and high pitched, and cum, clenching on Phantom’s cock nearly as tightly as the silicone ring. The quint ghoul cried out as Rain slowed his movements, causing Phantom, or rather his dick, to gently work Dew through his orgasm.
“You wanna move to the side and watch, baby?” Rain asked when the fire ghoul’s breath evened out. He nodded and Rain hauled Phantom’s entire body back, slipping his cock out of Dewdrop. He rolled over and settled on his side, head resting against his palm, arm bent. Ready for the show.
Phantom didn’t get even a moment to blink before Rain pushed him forward again, shoving his face into the pillows, ass high in the air. One of his cold hands slid under the quint ghoul as he shuddered, and finally took the ring off.
“Now, behave,” Rain growled and pulled back slowly, only to slam back into him with full force. Phantom choked on his own spit, drooling and crying into the pillows below him. He was on the brink of a climax from the very beginning, but now he was nearly insane with a need for release. He knew no matter how much Rain would be telling him to hold it, he just wouldn’t make it.
The quint ghoul tried to communicate as much, but all that came out was a muffled gurgle breaking into a whorish moan. As Rain was hitting his sweet spot over and over again with painful accuracy, Phantom felt another kind of pressure building in his gut. Something close to fear washed over him as he realized what it was.
“Rain- fuck, Rain, stop, please…” was all he could manage to say before the inevitable.
The water ghoul enjoyed every second of it. Seeing Phantom so small and vulnerable, embarrassing himself like that, crying and moaning as he wet himself, completely losing control.
“Oh, Bug… you're such a mess…” He lowered his gaze to look at him trying to hide what had just happened, but his legs, as well as the sheets underneath them, were completely soaked.
“Fuck…” he cried one last time before reaching his climax. Rain’s eyes rolled back into his head and with one last thrust he came deep inside of the little ghoul, moaning louder than any of them expected.
Phantom's grip on the sheets got tighter, feeling the water ghoul coming inside of him was enough to make his own orgasm explode too. For a minute, it made him forget about how incredibly embarrassed he was. Well, apparently Rain enjoyed it, though.
The quint ghoul desperately moaned his name as he kept riding his orgasm, feeling a beautiful relief.
The water ghoul slowly pulled out and Dewdrop helped Phantom lie down on the bed, whispering to him some sweet ‘good boy’ and ‘so nice’. Rain positioned himself on the other side of him and started gently caressing his chest. Dewdrop kissed him, the quint ghoul squirming as he felt those warm lips pressed against his.
“Bug, that was so fucking hot,” Rain commented with a dreamy moan. “Fuck, you have to do it more often.”
“So fucking hot,” Dewdrop echoed, “you did so good for us.”
They clearly knew Phantom had always had a thing for being praised. He whined, his dick quickly getting hard again. Rain carefully wrapped his hand around it and the quint ghoul answered with a pathetic moan. He started slowly stroking him, still letting some nice praises out.
“Look at yourself, our pretty, good boy,” the fire ghoul spoke again as he started plucking at Phantom's nipples with his hot fingers. “So pretty when you cry our names.”
The water ghoul gave him a kiss on the cheek, Phantom shivered at how cold his lips were.
“I didn't know you could make such pretty noises,” he told him, nothing but teasing. “Fuck, Bug, you're so hot.”
Against every expectation, Phantom came again, hard, crying out loud the two ghouls’ names as he shot hot, sweet pleasure all over his chest and Rain's hand. His vision got blurry, almost blacking out, Dewdrop and Rain barely managing to keep him with them.
“We love you so much, Bug,” the fire ghoul whispered in his ear. Phantom answered with the cutest, soft smile.
Maybe he did pass out for a short moment, because next thing he knows he's sprawled out in an armchair, lights on, and being wiped down with a wet cloth by Rain. When his eyes focused, Phantom saw Dewdrop putting on fresh sheets on their bed. Oh… right.
“‘m sorry,” he whined, embarrassment washing over him again.
“Nuh-uh, don’t apologize,” Rain tutted, coming up to kiss Phantom’s forehead. “You were perfect.”
Soon enough, the fire ghoul called for them, “Done. It’s 3 a.m., let’s get some sleep.”
Rain threw one more soft smile in Phantom’s direction and picked him up. Dew turned the lights off as the young ghoul wiggled under the covers, cuddling up to Rain’s chest. Dewdrop crawled in behind him, wrapping his arms around Phantom’s middle and shoving his face into his shaggy hair. Before they all dozed off, one more shiver went through the quint ghoul’s body at the delicious temperature difference.
185 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝔻𝕒𝕪 ℕ𝕚𝕟𝕖: 𝕃𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕊𝕖𝕩/ ℙ𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕖
🥀Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader (f)
🥀Genre: Smut
🥀Rating: 18+, Minors Do not Interact
🥀Au: sci fi au, space station au
🥀Trope: long distance relationship, ex to lovers
🥀Summary: when Yunho calls you one day, drunk and missing you, you let him guide you through some stress releasing phone sex
🥀Kinks: long distance sex, verbal instruction, dom! yunho, sub! reader, joint masturbation, video call sex, usage of toys
🥀Word Count: 1,515
🥀Betas: @mejuii
🥀Day Eight: Experimental/ Nipple play 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Ten: Hate Sex
You were about to go for your afternoon run through the park that was built on the grav-wheel of your space station when you got a notification on your watch that you had an incoming call from your ex. You sighed, well aware that he would not stop calling you unless you at least answered.
“Yunho,” You answered blandly.
“Babe,” Yunho chirped at you in hello.
You looked at the planet timezones on your watch and it was way too late on earth for Yunho to be calling you about something reasonable. “Are you drunk?”
“Nooooooo,” Yunho replied.
“Yunho, you can’t be calling me like this,” You said, taking a seat back on the bunk of your room. “I broke up with you before I left on this mission, remember?”
“I know,” Yunho admitted, “But I missed you.”
“Goodbye, Yunho,” You proclaimed.
“No no, wait!” Yunho attempted to stop you.
“Yunho, you’re not making this easy!” You cried out in frustration.
“Did you find someone up there to fuck yet?” Yunho shot low. “I know how your libido is. And you don’t fuck randoms.”
“No, Yunho, I did not find someone up here to fuck,” You sighed heavily. “Not that that’s any of your business.”
Suddenly, Yunho turned the camera on on his side, and his face flashed on the screen before you. By the look of his rosy complexion, he had absolutely been drinking. “Let me fuck you then.”
You laughed bitterly. “I hate to break it to you, Yunho, but we’re a couple of lightyears away from each other right now. This isn’t a normal booty call.”
“Please turn your camera on,” Yunho pleaded, “I want to see you.”
You don’t know what’s worse, Yunho still having the hots for you or Yunho sounding like he still loved you. You might as well let this play out. If you hung up on him, he was just going to be calling again and again. So you pulled out the small camera that would hover and take in your form and turned it on.
“There’s my girl,” Yunho said softly, moving over your face as if he was attempting to memorize it again.
“I’m not your girl anymore, Yunho,” You gently remind him.
“You are,” Yunho insisted, “Watch.”
Yunho sat back, the camera taking in more of his form. You groaned when you saw he was wearing your favorite shirt on him. Then he said, “Pretty girl, won’t you open your mouth for me?”
Your jaw went slack, muscle memory from a time before. Then you clenched your jaw tight, in both anger and rebellion. “Really?”
Yunho had a tiny smile of confidence on his face. “See? Your body still knows who you belong to even though you refuse to acknowledge it.”
You turned your face away from the camera, feeling your throat go tight and hot tears prick the corners of your eyes. “What’s the point of this call, Yunho?”
“No, Babe, don’t cry!” Yunho lamented. “I wanted to hear your voice and see your face, even if you were pissed off at me.”
“I’m not pissed off at you, Yunho, I just don’t want to be pining after a man who is so far away from me that it would distract me from my mission.”
“Look at me,” Yunho commanded in a rough voice.
You brought your eyes upwards and saw Yunho had moved closer to the camera. “When was the last time you released some stress?”
You laughed bitterly. “Yunho!”
“I may not be your dom anymore. I may not be in charge of your wellbeing. But I still care. I can help you.”
“This is ridiculous,” You muttered. And yet your body found itself assuming the position in front of your bunk: feet tucked under you and your hands folded on your lap. You knew you needed the help and the release. The closer you got to the planet that your mission was on, the more tightly wound your body got.
“Close your eyes for me,” Yunho crooned. “Imagine that you’re sitting on my lap. You’ve been good today and I’m treating you.”
You didn’t like the way your body instantly tightened at that sentence but you had spent way too many years with Yunho for it to forget something so quickly. “Yu…Sir?”
“My hands are wandering all over your body,” Yunho’s even voice continued to paint the picture. “I’m running them down your arms, up your ribs, over your hips, just appreciating all your curves.”
You whimpered at the imagine of his large hands over your body. There was nothing you used to enjoy more than Yunho manhandling you. You used to be a ragdoll for him. And he used to fulfill you in ways that always made you sleep soundly at night.
“Were you a good girl for me?” Yunho’s deep voice permeated your eardrums.
“Yes, sir, I was good,” You replied.
“Then take your clothes off for me, pretty girl, I won’t tease you tonight,” He cooed.
You discarded your work out clothes and moved back to your previous stance. “Can we use the rose toy?” You asked.
“Wanna feel my tongue on your pretty pussy?” Yunho wondered.
“Wanna feel good,” You hummed.
“Go on,” Yunho gave you permission. “Spread your legs so I can eat you out.”
You prepared yourself and the chosen toy, lubing up everything. Yunho had always been a messy eater, an enthusiastic one, but a messy eater nonetheless. Anything to make sure his sub came and came hard.
You pushed down the tiny floating camera to the level of your cunt and Yunho groaned on the screen. “I miss your taste,” he admitted.
You missed the way Yunho would press your thighs down, effectively spreading your legs to max capacity. The way he would pepper your inner thighs with kisses, eyes looking up at you, waiting for you to beg for him. For Yunho, when he dommed you, you were his entire world and nothing else existed.
“Sir?”
“Let me hear all the cute noises you make when I eat you out, pretty girl.” Yunho gave you the go ahead to use the toy on yourself.
You let out a muffled moan as the toy laps at your folds on a low setting.
“Poor baby,” Yunho sympathized, “You really needed me, huh?”
“Need you so bad, sir,” You whimpered back.
“You’re doing so good for me,” Yunho praised you, “Taking all my love like the good girl you are.”
“I’m always good for you, Yunnie,” You can’t help but say, bucking up into the toy, “Can we go faster, sir?”
“You like my tongue on your clit that much, huh?” Yunho asked.
“Feels so good,” You slurred, half drunk on Yunho’s praise and the other half on the pleasure you were pretending he was giving you.
“Wanna come for your Sir?” Yunho prompted you. He cursed and you blinked wearily to see that he had his legs spread and was lazily rubbing one out while ordering what to do.
“Please, Yunho, please. Come with me. Nothing makes me happier than listening to your groans.”
Yunho smiled quite happily but shook his head. “This is all about you, Babe.”
You turned up the speed on the toy and then cast your head back onto the bunk behind you. “Fuck, Sir, your tongue, so good, hhhhhnn, I wanna come for you, please, please, please.”
“Go on, pretty girl, let my tongue take you away, come for me, let me taste your cum, give your sir exactly what he wants,” Yunho instructed.
Your hips stuttered forward, riding out your high, pushing the toy further into your folds, mimicking as Yunho used to do, dipping his tongue into your hole to scoop all your cum into his mouth.
There were no noises in your room for a moment, your toy turned off and discarded, before Yunho said, “Fuck, I missed you.”
“Yu--” Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat. “Yunho--!”
“I know,” Yunho sighed rather glumly. “I just wanted to help you.”
“I--” You swallowed down some emotions. “I needed it.”
“You were so good for me, Babe,” Yunho couldn't help but push. “You did good.”
There was still a part of you that preened at Yunho’s praise. “Th-thank you, Sir.”
“You should go clean yourself up,” Yunho suggested, sounding wistful.
You gathered your clothing, finding yourself suddenly not willing to end the call.
“Yunho?”
“Mmm?” He hummed back at you.
“Do you think you could help me again?”
A pause, palpable and raw. And then, “If you let me order a toy for us, then yes.”
That made your proverbial ears perk up. “What kind of toy?
“The one where you get a scan of your pussy so I can fuck it and you get a scan of my dick so it can fuck you, and when i’m fucking your toy pussy, my toy dick moves as my dick is moving,” Yunho chuckled.
“Oh,” You said quietly, letting those words sink in.
“Yeah,” Yunho grinned, “So? You want to become my pretty girl again? Officially?”
🥀Day Eight: Experimental/ Nipple play 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Ten: Hate Sex
#joongfryefff24#kvanity#kwritersworldnet#pirateeznet#cultofdionysusnet#ateez smut#atz smut#jeong yunho smut#yunho smut#jeong yunho x reader#ღatz#topaz's work
121 notes
·
View notes
Text
SELF DESTRUCT - CHRIS STURNIOLO
SUMMARY;; Chris and Clara had been in a talking stage for 2 months and Chris decided to ghost her. But not for the reasons Clara thought he did ..
NOT PROOF READ ; NO SMUT JUST ANGST AND SLIGHT FLUFF :3 I suggest listening to the song before or while reading the fic because it'll make more sense to the plot !
Chris and Clara were basically perfect for each other. From the day they met at Larray's party they immediately had a connection and got along instantly. Both being the loudest and outgoing at the party. Their personalities together really made a room light up. They matched each other like puzzle pieces.
It didn’t take them long till they continued to bump into each other at Larrays multiple parties and eventually got each other's numbers and started talking a bit more seriously.
Clara was head over heels for Chris to say the least. From that night she knew she had something for him. It's like the universe aligned them together on purpose. He made her feel like her. He was the first guy ever to make her really feel something.
If Clara had to describe him he was perfect in her eyes. In every way possible. The way he’d stay up all night talking to her, or how he’d assure her she was okay when she was having a bad day, or even the slight compliments he gave her, the way he made her smile at her phone, the way he’d listen to everything she had to say, he was everything she wanted. Everything she needed.
And Chris absolutely returned the feeling. He even made sure to hint to Clara how he felt.
So when Chris started distancing himself from Clara randomly it felt weird. It made Clara feel utterly confused.
At first it started off as dry responses. She tried not to think too hard about it because Chris was a human and of course he had a life and other things to worry about. Then it started to become where he’d only text her once every other day. Then after about four messages in a row she sent him is when she realized he fully ghosted her.
She stared at her screen, blue light plastered on her face from the reflection. She bit her lip- holding back the urge to text him once again. She sighed and slammed her phone down on her bed. She just didn’t understand it. Was it something wrong she did? She said? She looked? The entire situation kept her up late at night.
She felt something she had never felt with anyone else with Chris. Clara had been in plenty of relationships before but she swore up and down that Chris was different. When in reality it wasn’t. He was just like everyone else. He was interested, he got bored, and was clearly too big of a dick to tell Clara the truth so he did the thing any other guy would do and ghost her.
They had only been talking for two months and she knew she shouldn’t have gotten attached but still, it fucked her up. It had officially been two weeks today since the last text Chris had sent her. She just needed to accept the fact that what they had was dead now.
She sucked it all up and decided to go to Tara's party tonight. She knew she needed a distraction and hoped that Chris or the triplets wouldn’t be there because she had never seen them interact with Tara like that.
For Chris, this was absolutely eating him alive. He hadn’t gotten proper sleep since then. Chris couldn’t exactly pinpoint why he ghosted Clara. Chris had extremely bad commitment issues and everyone knew that. His past relationships really wiring his brain anytime he found someone knew. So when he met Clara he thought that it would just end up being the same thing. He’d get attached to her and she’d end up hurting him. So he distanced himself to the point where he accidentally ghosted her. He didn’t even realize that he hurt her in order to protect himself until it was too late.
He even thought about texting Clara again but he couldn’t. He knew he had already fucked it up enough. He almost did though. A bunch of times. He would always write her really long paragraphs at 2 in the morning and almost end up sending them. He’d always feel really pathetic and end up deleting it and rolling over and try to sleep.
He hated the thought of hurting Clara. He had been ghosted before by girls and it absolutely crushed him and he didn’t even wanna imagine what Clara was thinking. It made him feel like an absolute asshole. He wanted her to know how badly it hurt him too. It's like he self-destructed himself when he was around her.
So here he was at Taras party. Trying to distract himself from it all.
When Clara saw him she felt like her heart stopped for a second. Her entire body stopped. She stood in the middle of Larrays hallway staring at him. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Her mouth slightly opened out of shock.
It didn’t take Chris long to notice Clara’s eyes on him. They locked eyes. Both their faces went pale. Chris could feel the breath leave his body. Immediately when Clara noticed Chris´ eyes on her she stormed out the room. Chris excused himself from the girl he was talking to in front of her and immediately ran after her.
“Clara, wait..” He called out. Clara heard his voice. The same voice that used to calm her down. Her vision began to get blurry and her head started pounding. She began to push everyone and everything out her way. She didn’t even know where she was trying to go; she just knew she needed to get away. “Clara please!” Chris called again.
Clara finally reached outside. She took a deep breath in from the fresh air. She turned around and met Chris’ tall figure in front of her. Her mouth still held open; her pupils small and her breath shaky. An extremely disappointed look on her face. Chris’ face was filled with guilt and worry. “What.” Clara said sternly. Chris didn’t exactly know what to say. He said the first thing that came to mind, “I’m sorry.” is all he could spit out. A scoff left Clara’s mouth. “You’re sorry? For what Christopher. What are you sorry for?” Clara spat back. Her arms crossed her body. Anger began to fill her body. “Clara, you know what I'm sorry for…” He spoke softly. Clara rolled her eyes. “Yeah sorry for ghosting me and getting my hopes up? Wow thanks for that awesome apology Chris!” Clara began to walk away as she said that. Tears began to fill the brim of her eyes. Chris continued to follow after her “Clara you don’t understand, I didn’t mean to ghost you.” He explained. He placed his hand on her shoulder trying to turn her around. She met his eyes again. “How the fuck do you not mean to ghost someone Chris?” the tears began to spill out her eyes.
Chris inhaled. “Clara I didn’t know how to function with you because I like you too much. I threw it all away because I was scared. I was scared of getting hurt that I didn’t even realize I was hurting you in the process. I self-destructed and panicked and just left with no explanation and it's been eating me alive. I hope that you know this entire thing has hurt me so unbelievably and I've tried so hard to reach out to you but couldn’t bring myself to do it. I felt like I fucked up too much. Maybe I should’ve stayed and I'm sorry…” He explained. Everything coming out at once. Every feeling Chris has had in these past two weeks finally came out. Clara’s face lit up in shock. She couldn’t believe what Chris was saying. Clara had no words. She didn’t even know how to respond to this.
“Really?”
Chris chuckled awkwardly
“Really.”
-
AN: I didn't know what to do for the end so just come up with it with your imagination LMAO
TAGLIST (tell me if u wanna be removed or added!) ; @sturnioloshacker @sturnish @hoesformatt @lovingmattysposts @gwenlore @daddyslilchickenfingers @thenickgirl
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo an#sturniolo angst#sturniolos#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#fem oc#sturniolo#sturniolo fluff#fic#idfk#:3#song fic#between friends#Spotify
109 notes
·
View notes
Note
Why are you so angry toward Tony? Why do you call him names? If you honestly believe Sam and Cait are together, Tony is a non-issue. The only reason to be offended is if you want Sam and Cait to together, but you know she is with Tony, abd you feel he is between them. Your anger and rudeness the man shows you know the truth of their marriage, family and your bitterness she didn't choose Sam as a mate.
Dear Calling Names Anon,
I am not the one being angry, here: you are. You are so angry, in fact, that in your haste to hopefully bash me, you typed 'abd' instead of 'and' (also because you are on your phone) and you ate both a verb (if you want Sam and Cait to be together) and a preposition ( 'anger and rudeness towards the man'). Both lapsus calami (that's 'slip of the pen', for you) are very telling - mais, passons (that's French, for you: I know it pisses you off and I am so glad it does, every single time!).
I have read so many times the glorious POS you dutifully copied and pasted in that Anon box, that this time I knew I had to answer you, once and for all. You and the one who wrote this down first and then you all dutifully followed - no critical skills and never did have any.
I am not angry toward McIdiot. I am derisive and dismissive of the very lucrative part he agreed to play in that 🎪. As is, he is still a social zero and nowhere to be seen, unless she brings him along, but only at events where she knows virtually no one. No matter how hard you try to present him in an extravagant light, his real situation is well known, based on public records. Conversely, you are angry and contemptuous towards S, who has his own businesses and takes risks and makes a thousand mistakes. But who, unlike your hero here, is alive. McIdiot, that character paraded in front of us, comes across as a profiteer. Maybe McGill is a nice person. Maybe he is friends with C. McIdiot, the part he's been given in this shitshow, is anything but nice, interesting or attractive.
I call him McIdiot, that is true. You lie all day long about S, spreading lies and calumnies and innuendoes that cost him a LOT in the past. What you did had consequences IRL. Yes, you and your little harmless coterie, including its 455 Twitter and Tumblr sock accounts. You knowingly hurt someone who did absolutely nothing to you and 'rude' doesn't even start to describe your reckless attitude. What moral right have you to come here and give me lessons? That's rich, coming from people who repeatedly called me a liar, an idiot, assured their flock I was several other persons. Same people who, overall, take a sick, cheap pleasure of calling shippers either 'worms' or 'the mental ward'. So what the hell did you expect, coming here? A fucking welcoming committee? A potluck of revelations?
I do not want S&C to be together. I know S&C are together. You know it, too: otherwise you wouldn't be here screeching like a maniac in front of a closed door. You then proceed to assume knowing what I think and lecture me about what I should be thinking, instead: a very poor rhetorical strategy, indeed and a sure sign of confusion. For your information, McIdiot's absurdity will always be an issue, irrespective of their real status. And you are correct: I know a fairly consistent part of the truth about her 'family' and 'marriage'. What irks you is that I chose not to discuss many things I know in here and certainly not with you. You see, I have a personal policy, Anon: I don't share secrets with cowards. Ever.
You make me think of these harmless fools standing in the rain in Hyde Park's Speakers' Corner, who preach the imminent end of the world in front of an empty alley, Anon. Better go home: maybe Moo will make you a cuppa, once you get there.
http://www.cgpgrey.com, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons
120 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
fundieshaderoom
Fundie Shade Room
onyxonline
OnyxOnline
travelserulho
Travel Seru Lho
deadeery
Lucky day, Sea Sinner!
taxadvantum-blog
Advantum Tax and Accounting Services