#but I keep getting asked so I figured I’d see if other people know what to do here
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Matt & Me🎀
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a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.
fem! reader x singer! matt
disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.
warnings - drinking,, sexual references
y/nn = your nickname if your confused🩷
Chapter 8
After Christmas we did something exciting every night, usually beginning after midnight. Sometimes Matt rented either the Memphian or the Malco theater to watch movies. Other times he rented the entire Rainbow Skating Rink, the infamous roller rink I’d heard so much about.
My first night there I was lacing up my skates when the boys asked me, “Do you know how to skate?”
“Sure,” I said.
“But do you know how to skate?” they persisted.
I got the message real fast when a box of knee pads was passed around. This was not your ordinary around the rink to organ music skating. The idea here was to keep your bones intact.
I wobbled onto the rink only to wobble off. I wasn’t about to stay on that floor after seeing the determined looks on the other skaters’ faces. They made the Roller Derby look mild. From the sideline, I watched them rounding the rink, adjusting their jackets and shirts so they weren’t too tight and checking that their arms and legs were securely padded.
Then Matt skated into their midst, calling out, “Okay, everybody. Y’all clear the way on the sidelines. I don’t want anybody hurt over there. Honey, why don’t you get on the other side there with Louise [Gene Smith’s wife]. The rest of you, get your asses somewhere else.” They all started laughing, and he said, “Okay, let’s go!”
About twenty-five skaters locked hands, forming what they called a whip. Skating abreast, they began circling the rink, building up speed. The objective of the game was to remain unscathed at speeds of over ten miles per hour. It could be very dangerous if you were to lose your balance or if you were at the tail end, when, by turning quickly, they all “cracked the whip.”
There were a lot of falls, but despite the danger, Matt seemed to know exactly what he was doing. I noticed that whenever someone was hurt, he was the first to see if they were all right and to decide if they should continue to play.
I still don’t know how anybody kept from getting seriously injured, yet no one complained and most of them were even willing to do it again the next night. It was rough, but as Matt put it, “If you’re man enough to get out there, then you better be man enough to take the licks.”
New Year’s Eve was approaching. Matt told Alan to rent the Manhattan Club for the evening and to invite about two hundred people, Matt’s friends and the presidents and other members of his fan clubs.
Although I was excited about the party, I couldn’t help thinking that after New Year’s Eve I would have to leave. Matt kept telling me not to think about it. I noticed that whenever I mentioned a problem to him he’d just say, “It’ll all work out, don’t worry about it. I’ve got enough to think about without having to worry about that.”
He always avoided problems. If I was disturbed or depressed, or if I felt we were becoming distant and wanted to get closer by talking it out, he avoided me or told me my timing was bad. There was never a good time.
Once I reproached him about the attention he was lavishing on the girlfriend of one of the regulars. She was very attractive, about my height, with black hair and a nice figure. She had come into the kitchen, where several of us were sitting, and Matt, who was wearing dark sunglasses, began making comments like, “Boy, it’s getting warm in here. Anybody else warm?”
I was so upset I left the room. I waited for him to go upstairs, then followed shortly behind him. “Matt, I have to talk to you,” I said.
“Sure, Honey, what is it?”
“I saw the way you were eyeing that girl. It upset me.”
“Look, woman,” he said, losing his temper. “No one tells me who I can look at and who I can’t. Besides, your imagination’s getting carried away. I’ve seen her ass around here long before today.”
With that I stomped out, slamming the bedroom door. I felt betrayed that he’d even desire another woman and was annoyed that he’d never admit it. I became obsessed and watched what Matt liked, what attracted him, trying to be everything he ever imagined a woman could be, and more.
The New Year’s Eve party at the Manhattan Club started around 10 p.m., but Matt timed our arrival a few minutes before midnight. We just had time to order double screwdrivers when the countdown began. Then we all sang “Auld Lang Syne.”
As people shouted “Happy New Year!” Matt pulled me close and said, “Baby, I don’t want you to go back. You’re staying here. We’ll call your parents in the morning.”
I was in such a state of ecstasy that I didn’t notice what I was drinking: four double screwdrivers, all drunk through a straw. After one double, I was feeling high; after four, I was reeling. I went into the ladies’ room with Louise and stayed there for what seemed like hours, swaying back and forth in the stall, trying to get myself together.
When we finally returned to the table, I tried to act as if everything was okay, but Matt took one look at me and said, “Baby, we better get you home. You’re in no condition to be here.” He asked his old friend George Klein, the Memphis disc jockey, if he would take me home.
I spent most of the ride back to Graceland with my head out the window. George and his date walked me to the door, where we said good night, and I let myself in.
Gripping the banister, I slowly climbed the white stairs, shedding my clothing as I went: my jacket, purse, shoes, and blouse left in a long trail up the steps. By the time I reached the bedroom I was wearing only my bra and panties. I collapsed on the bed and passed out.
A few hours later I heard Matt tiptoe into the room and come over to me. His condition was not much better than mine. I could make out his silhouette against the ceiling above me. I didn’t stir. Gently, he took off the rest of my clothes. Then he kissed me and kissed me over and over. This night we almost went too far. His vow was nearly broken. My passion had gotten to him and under the influence of alcohol, he weakened. Then, before I knew what happened, he withdrew saying, “No. Not like this.” It had to be special, just as he’d always planned.
I have to admit that, at that moment i didn’t care if it was special and I didn’t care what he’d vowed. I didn’t care, in fact, what he wanted at all. I only knew I wanted him.
The next morning my head throbbed with a terrible hangover. I felt ashamed and embarrassed—and yet not at all sorry about what we’d done. He was a little closer to being all mine.
The moment of truth came when we called my father in Germany. Matt was on the extension in his office and I was on another phone somewhere else in the house. Though the connection to Wiesbaden was filled with static, there was no mistaking my father’s words.
“Young lady, I will not go through this conversation again. We made an agreement. You were to leave there on the second of January. You’ve got one day left and you’d better be on that flight!”
Matt interjected, “Captain, sir, if she could just stay a couple more days. I have to be back in L.A. soon, and it would be nice—”
“Matt, I can’t do that. She has to be back in school and that was the deal. I’m sorry. y/n y/ln, are you there?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“We’ll be at the airport. You know the time; we’ll see you then.”
I was furious. I flew into Matt’s office where, sitting behind his desk, he was just hanging up.
“I hate them. I hate them both,” I yelled like a spoiled child. “Why are they stopping us? They just want me home to babysit, to take care of the kids, that’s all.”
Matt’s face was flushed with anger. “We made a goddamn agreement—who the hell does he think he is, talking like that on the goddamn phone—him and his military upbringing.”
He grabbed the phone and called down to the kitchen, demanding, “Where’s my dad! He down there? Tell him to come upstairs to the office.”
Within seconds James was at the door. “What is it, Son?”
“Goddamn Captain y/ln,” he shouted. “We just called to see if y/nn could stay a few more days and he comes off with this cocky attitude and refuses with his jargon about making agreements.”
“Now calm down, Son. It ain’t that bad. He was probably just concerned about her being home in time for school.”
“School, what the hell do I care about school?” Matt snapped, ignoring James’s efforts to soothe him. “Put her into school here, that’ll solve everything. She doesn’t need school. Hell, they don’t teach you anything nowadays anyway.”
“Well, Son, she’s gonna have to go back, there ain’t no two ways about it, give or take a day or two.”
“Goddamn, Dad, you’re not helpin’ matters any,” Matt said, but he was beginning to calm down. He sat back in his big desk chair and swiveled it around to face the window, then gazed out toward the pastures. Finally he turned around and announced that he had a plan.
Matt’s strategy called for me to return to Germany and to arrive in good spirits, then to concentrate on doing well in school so that my parents wouldn’t be able to use my poor grades as an excuse for not letting me return. Matt wanted me to finish high school in Boston and to that end he would make arrangements for me to return as soon as possible.
Germany
Although Matt said that I should greet my parents with a friendly smile, from the moment I got off the plane, my attitude was one of defiance. I now believed that my parents were a threat to my future happiness. I didn’t realize that their fears and concerns were entirely reasonable. All that mattered to me was what Matt and I wanted, and no one was going to stand in our way.
The weather was cold and dreary, which certainly didn’t help my mood. I walked through customs to find my parents waiting. Noting my attitude, their expressions were cool, their welcome stiff. No loving arms wrapped around me, no loving words greeted me. Only my father’s abrupt order, “Let’s go.”
The drive back to Wiesbaden seemed longer than forty-five minutes. I sat in the backseat in icy silence. No one mentioned my request to stay at Graceland.
“All in all, did you have a nice time?” Dad ventured.
“Yes,” I replied, looking out the window at the clusters of trees bare from the harsh winter.
“Did Matt like your present?” Mother asked hopefully.
“Yes,” I assured her. “He loved it.”
“Was it as cold in Boston as it gets here?” Dad asked, keeping the conversation light, trying to make me open up and talk.
“No, it’s colder here,” I replied sharply, referring to both the weather and my attitude. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror and surprisingly, Dad looked away rather than reacting to my cutting remark.
I knew I was pushing my luck with them, but I couldn’t suppress my feelings and pretend that everything was all right. I was so deeply in love that chitchat seemed pointless—as did everything except for Matt. I remembered how he had held me before we said goodbye, with such emotion and need that nothing could keep me away from him. How could I explain these adult feelings to my parents who, I thought, could never understand and would think me silly or just infatuated?
When we arrived home Dad said, “Well, you’ve got school tomorrow, so try to get as much rest as you can tonight.”
Mom added, “You should have dinner and get right to bed.”
Did they both honestly think that I could slip back into the routine of ordinary life?
I rebelled against going to school. I skipped classes, went to town, and downed a few beers with whoever I could get to join me. My attitude worsened along with my grades.
My parents were as confused as any caring parents would be, hoping the problem would eventually go away. But I didn’t make it easy for them. What had started out as a simple introduction to the world’s greatest rock-and-roll star had turned into a nightmare for them.
Matt began calling me almost immediately, and we’d talk for hours. My parents heard me whispering and giggling till three in the morning and wondered what on earth we could be talking about for so long. Nothing really—yet it seemed like everything.
I began to reveal to my mother that Matt and I loved each other and longed to be together. Finally one day I summoned the courage to tell her that Matt wanted me to finish school in Boston. Her response: an unqualified no. She felt it could wait until my father’s tour of duty was over. That would be the end of summer, she said, and there was no need for me to return to Matt sooner.
“But Mother,” I pleaded, “you don’t understand. He wants me there with him.”
“Why you?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion. “Why can’t he find someone his own age? You’re only sixteen. What is this man doing to our family?”
She buried her face in her hands and began crying.
I did feel sorry for her. We were always close, she was always there for me, but this time she just didn’t understand. I hated seeing her in pain, but nothing seemed more important to me than Matt. Not even my mother.
“He’s not anything like you imagine,” I said, “and he needs me, Mother. I won’t get hurt. Please talk to Dad.”
Slowly she raised her head and looked at me.
“y/nn, I’d never forgive myself if I let you go and if you came back to us with a broken heart. You’re so young! You have no idea what lies ahead of you. All you know is you’re in love. Do you know how difficult that is to fight?” She sighed. “I wouldn’t wish this on any parent.”
She brushed away her tears and after a moment said, “All right, I’ll talk to your father, but not just yet. It’s still too soon.”
I gave her a big hug and whispered, “Thank you, Mother. I know you can do it. I love you.”
Now I had to wait for my mother to intercede. I knew how much my father was against the idea. My parents still didn’t really know Matt’s intentions toward me. They only knew what I had told them. But they had also read in the newspapers that Matt was dating every one of the female costars in his movies, so naturally they were suspicious.
One day on the phone I told Matt, “If you want me to come back and go to school, you’re going to have to talk to my father yourself.”
“Put him on,” Matt replied. “I’m not MacArthur, but I can sure as hell try.”
Drawing on all of his charm, Matt assured my father that if I was permitted to move to Boston, I wouldn’t live with him at Graceland but with his dad, James, and his wife, Angela. Matt promised to enroll me in a good Catholic school—he’d choose it himself—and make sure I graduated. He said I’d always be chaperoned and that he’d care for me in every way. Declaring his intentions honorable, he swore that he loved and needed and respected me. In fact, he couldn’t live without me, he said, intimating that one day we’d marry.
This left my parents in a dilemma. If Matt were as sincere as he sounded, there was a chance that our relationship might work out. But if it didn’t work out, they ran the risk of my returning to them disillusioned and brokenhearted. If they refused to let me go, I might never forgive them and I would bitterly regret this unfulfilled love for the rest of my life. In that light, there was little they could do but say yes, and eventually they did.
In truth, I was as mystified as my parents were about why Matt wanted me to come live with him. I think he was attracted by the fact that I had a normal, stable childhood, and that I was very responsible, having helped my parents raise my younger brothers and sister. I was more mature at sixteen than I was at fourteen, when he’d met me, not only because I’d gone through the normal growing period, but also because I’d experienced the pain of living without him for those two years.
Most of all, he knew he could depend on me. I wasn’t interested in a career, in Hollywood, or in anything else that would draw my attention away from him. I also had all of the physical attributes that Matt liked, the fundamentals he could use in turning me into his ideal woman. In short, I had everything that Matt had been looking for in a woman: youth and innocence, total devotion, and no problems of my own. And I was hard to get.
I intended to do whatever I had to to hold him, because if he had ever sent me home, it would have meant not only that I’d been wrong in going to him, but that my parents had been wrong for having permitted it. I firmly resolved to make our relationship work, no matter what.
Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.
This material may be protected by copyright.
a/n - do you guys like longer chapters like this?🎀
#matt stuniolo fanfic#matthew sturn#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#Spotify
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Other nonhuman alters who have ages that are wildly different from what humans experience, how do you translate that into human age when asked?
#like idk what my age is in human years#it feels weird to try and do#but I keep getting asked so I figured I’d see if other people know what to do here#system#pdid#pdid system#did#osdd#actually dissociative#osddid#fictive#nonhuman alter#alterhuman#nonhuman#sysblr#how do you tag this shit#am I doing it right
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As Steve walks into the grocery store he pulls his sunglasses off, only to put them back on again immediately. The lights of the store make the back of his eyes sting. Hungover from a bad headache, not that people here would care why. Whatever, is not like everyone already doesn’t think he’s an asshole. He doesn’t need to perform for anyone anymore.
A guy, singing to himself down one of the aisles peaks his attention, he’s tall and has long black hair and Steve belatedly remembers that he’s Jon’s friend from California.
“Argyle?” he asks, more to himself than to him, but Argyle turns and smiles at him as if they are old friends. He approaches and grabs his shoulder, shaking him a little.
“Oh! Hi Stevie!”
The confidence and attitude he carries himself with make Steve smile for some reason. It’s like he’s very sure of himself but in a nice way, not in a douchey way, like his high school buddies were. Although hearing someone call him “Stevie” reminds him of Tommy and a very different time and he can’t help but shrink inwards a little, “Oh no please, just Steve,” he says with an apologetic smile, pulling his sunglasses off again and placing them on his head. And because he doesn’t want Argyle to think he’s the douchebag, he explains further, “‘Stevie’ brings back bad memories,”
Argyle leans his head to the side with a pout but then smiles and squeezes Steve’s shoulder, “Dude, it’s fine, we can just make new ones, man! Better ones.”
Steve’s first reaction is to scoff. As if it were that easy… but then he thinks, hell, maybe it is. Maybe it is and it makes him smile. Argyle is way too outgoing for it to be comfortable for other people, it’s kind of ridiculous. For a second, he wonders if Jonathan found it jarring when he first met him. But Steve finds it refreshing. He shakes his head and smiles,
“So what were you looking for? Maybe I can help?” he offers.
Argyle turns in a circle, letting go of Steve’s shoulder and opening his arms wide, like he’s presenting the store to Steve, “See man, I'm mentally preparing myself for the munchies. I kind of wanted to make a pizza but like sweet? You get me?”
“Like a pie?” Steve chuckles.
“That! Sounds delicious, dude! But I don’t know how to make a pie,” Argyle laments, and Steve has no idea what possesses him to say,
“I do. You want help?”
Argyle stills his whole body and then shakes it before he starts snapping his fingers rapidly, startling Steve.
“Ok! Ok ok ok ok ok! Are you busy right now, man?”
“Just need to buy my groceries…” Steve says unable to keep the bewilderment off his expression.
“I’ll help you with that, we’ll buy things for the pie and then you invite me over, how’s that my dude?” Argyle says, no preambles, “I have a doobie and a lot of questions about all the shit that went down” he adds moving his eyebrows up and down quickly.
“What about Jon?” Steve can’t help but ask.
“Ah man, Jonny is with Nancy right now. Those two love birds had a lot to talk about, so I figured I’d make myself scarce.” Argyle answers, nodding apprehensively at his own statement.
Steve finds himself nodding along before saying, “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it!”
“Hell yeah, Stevie!” Argyle exclaims throwing his arms up and this time, Steve doesn’t cringe at the nickname.
After that, Argyle follows Steve through the store, helping him put things in the cart, making a few comments about differences in products or prices from California, but mostly staying out of the way and humming to himself. Steve asks him what he wants the pie to be (strawberries and chocolate) so he gets the ingredients for that too and then they are off.
When they get to his place, Steve tells him to get comfortable while he puts stuff away but Argyle helps him out before sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen and watching as Steve gets all the ingredients for the pie laid out.
“You know dude, you’re kind of exactly how I imagined you’d be,” Argyle tells him, gifting him another one of his smiles.
“Really?” Steve asks surprised.
“Jon told me all about you, man,” he answers nodding.
Steve raises an eyebrow at that, “And you still want to hang out with me?” he asks, half judgy, half defensive.
“Of course! Because you know what I got from it, dog?” Argyle asks and Steve just stares at him, afraid to know the answer.
“That you are a good person, Stevie! So you got off to a rocky start dude, so what? I think that makes you all the more interesting.”
Steve purses his lips in an attempt not to smile and raises an eyebrow.
“You went to hell and beyond for someone you didn’t even like! You’ve paid your dues and a half for whatever shit you did when you were younger and it could’ve made you bitter or closed off, man! But it didn’t. Not even the tiniest little bit. You barely know me and you invited me over and offered to bake pie for me, dude!”
Steve chuckles and shakes his head, “You got all that from what Jon told you? Also you invited yourself over,” he jokes.
Argyle laughs and then just shrugs, choosing to ignore Steve’s question about Jon.
He lets it go, and Argyle lights up the joint while he starts making the pie. After they both get a few hits, Argyle starts asking him about everything. ‘Start from the beginning’ he says.
Steve starts off a little stiff but gets looser with the weed and Argyle's presence and ends up telling him practically everything. Argyle asks a few questions every once in a while, sometimes about the process of making the pie. Sometimes some really intense shit like ‘and how did that make you feel?’, ‘did you think you were going to die?’ ‘were you scared?’.
Steve answers everything honestly, and it feels incredibly cathartic. His favorite questions are the ones about the pie though, and he smiles the biggest when Argyle says next time he’ll make one for him.
In turn, Steve asks him how he met Jon and chuckles when Argyle confirms his thoughts and tells him Jon didn’t like Argyle one bit at first.
“He said I was too happy. He didn’t trust it. Dude couldn’t trust anyone that hadn’t gone through some kind of shit in their lives” Argyle laughs, “But I can thaw even the coldest of hearts, man! As we got to know each other, he realized that I did have my own shit going on, but that happiness was a choice for me. Is who I had chosen to be.”
They talk about that too, how it wasn’t an easy choice. How some days it’s harder than others, to keep at it. How all the Upside Down shit affected him too.
By the time the pie is done and the joint is gone, Steve feels incredibly close to Argyle. Like they’ve been friends forever.
“So that’s pretty much it,” he says with a sigh after finishing a rant about why he doesn’t keep in touch with his high school buddies because Argyle had asked about them.
“Dude, you’ve been through so much,” he says solemnly.
“Yeah, you know that’s…. Life…” Steve says, shrugging. He doesn't know exactly what to say, suddenly feeling very awkward at being seen.
“Nah, Stevie. Me being kicked out of my house as soon as I was old enough to get a job ‘cause my parents couldn’t afford to keep feeding me and my younger siblings…. That’s life.” Argyle says seriously and quickly dismisses Steve's worried face adding, “It’s ok dude, they were great parents, they raised me well and I still go visit every other weekend” And then sighs and looks sternly at Steve again,
“Like I said, that’s life. What you’ve been through? Was hell”
“The kids had it worse- Ell-” Steve starts but Argyle interrupts him.
“That doesn’t erase what you've been through, Steve. It doesn’t make it less of a nightmare, man.” Steve just looks at Argyle as what he’s saying sinks in.
“And you got through it, dude. You came out the other side even a better person than when it started and like- you saved lives! You saved my best friend's life and like- like- you should be proud of yourself Stevie. I’m proud of you, man” he finishes with a carefree smile. As if he hadn’t just rocked the ground Steve was standing on. And he doesn't know if it’s the weed, or Argyle’s words, or both but Steve closes the distance between them and hugs him.
“Oh, hey! Hugs! I love hugs!” Argyle laughs, and hugs him back, taking it all in stride.
“Sorry,” Steve sniffles embarrassed, “I didn’t know I needed to hear that till you said it,” he croaks.
“Nah, it’s good. I got you” Argyle responds, patting his back lightly.
The hug is wonderful, friendly, warm, and just the right length but when he’s stepping away from Argyle, he hears a wary sound from the kitchen door.
“Uhm…hi”
It’s Eddie. Pocker-faced and cautious and Steve knows him well enough to know he’s freaking out inside.
“Oh, hi! Eddie! Good to see you, dude!” Argyle says good naturally and completely out of the loop. Steve smiles at him too and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand to dry them off a bit.
Whatever Eddie was thinking goes out the window when he looks closely at Steve and walks towards him, leaning closer to look him in the eye, “You okay?” he asks concerned.
Steve nods and Argyle clears his throat, “I’m going to… set the table for three,” he says, so maybe, not as out of the loop as Steve first thought.
Eddie completely ignores Argyle and grabs Steve’s face, his thumb caressing the underside of his eye, “You really ok?” he asks again and Steve chuckles,
“Yeah,” he answers with a smile.
Eddie hums and then looks back towards where Argyle is opening and closing cabinets in the dining room, looking for plates, “So… Should I be jealous?” he asks and Steve snorts amused,
“Of course not,” he says.
“You sure? ‘Cause maybe your type wasn’t curls and big eyes, maybe it was long hair and weed all along,” Eddie presses and Steve can tell he’s trying to make a joke out of it but is actually asking for real and Steve gets frankly, really annoyed.
“You know what? Maybe you should be jealous. Argy would never accuse me like that,” Inwardly he cringes at the nickname but it gets the point across. Eddie’s face falls and he looks devastated and terrified for a second before Steve smirks bitchily at him and then Eddie is frowning.
“Asshole” he murmurs, despite still holding Steve’s face as if it were precious and fragile.
Steve steps closer, placing his hands on Eddie’s waist, “You started it” he says as an apology. Kind of.
Eddie huffs and moves his hands to Steve shoulder’s, one thumb pressed to his pulse, “I regret it”
Steve hums, “Just for the record? A little possessiveness is kind of hot,” he says and pecks the tip of Eddie’s nose, “You questioning my feelings for you? Is not.” and then flicks it.
“Dully noted,” Eddie nods.
Steve looks him in the eye as he leans closer, kisses him fully in the mouth firmly, eyes open the whole time, and then whispers “Good boy,” before he steps away.
He smirks again seeing the full-body effect his little stunt has on Eddie. The way his eyelids fall, his mouth opens, the goosebumps on his arm hair, and the shiver that runs through his spine. He takes a moment to take it all in before he smiles, less predatory and more friendly. Eddie smiles back, and shakes his head amused, like he can't believe Steve is real. He does that a lot.
Steve then takes Eddie’s hand on his own and kisses his knuckles before moving past him and dragging him to the dining room with him,
“Now c’mon. Let’s go eat pie with my new friend”
e͟n͟d͟
a coffee? a doobie? ☕🥐💕
#stranger things#argyle#steve#friendship#and a little#steddie#on the side#because i cant help myself#i wrote something
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A Birthday Affair
Summary: It's your birthday and your best friend is making you a cake! Too bad she's left you home alone with her boyfriend, Anakin. She should've known you two had a thing for each other, right?
Content warnings: cheating, p in v sex, creampie, daddy kink
WC: 2.6k
“Alright guys, there’s only one shop that sells the buttercream we need and it’s way at the other end of town.” Padme shouts tiredly, grabbing her coat by the door. “Could’ve sworn I’d already picked some up…but anything for the birthday girl. I might be a while so make sure you keep an eye on the cake in the oven!”
“We’re not that incompetent, Padme.” Anakin rolls his eyes.
“Of course, we got it!” You answer as she leaves and turn to face Anakin. “You should really be nicer to her.”
“I’m plenty nice.” He responds. “And you’re the birthday girl, it’s you I need to be nice to.”
“But she’s your girlfriend. You’re obligated to be nice to her all year round.” You put the empty batter bowl into the sink as Anakin stares at you across the kitchen, leaning against the countertops.
“I’m about as nice to her as she is to me.” He murmurs and you look back in confusion. Were they having issues you didn’t know about?
“That couldn’t be further from the truth, Padme is the perfect girlfriend and you-“ You paused, looking at him up and down with a light scowl. “-well you’re you.”
“Ah, so you think I’m not good enough for her? How cliche.” He gives you a look of displeasure. “And what is it that makes me so unworthy of her company?”
“You’re not bad per se, you’re just…” You sigh, struggling to put your thoughts into words. “Look at it this way- Padme is one of those rare people. She manages to balance being successful and beautiful with somehow being humble and kind- I know for a fact she wakes up every morning to make you breakfast- and she does things like drive all over the city looking for a specific frosting for her best friend. That’s just the kind of person she is.” You ramble on, walking around the kitchen as Anakin stares at you in fascination.
“And then there’s you, who’s forgotten every anniversary and has been fired from every job because of his inability to control his temper. You see what I’m getting at?”
Anakin furrows his thick brows as he processes what you’re saying and you think he might get mad at you for a second but to your relief, he cracks a bright smile.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m just as much of a mess as you are. Just as unworthy.“ You laugh and a puzzling smirk crosses his face.
“So you’re saying I should be with someone better suited for me?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Someone like…you?” He raises an eyebrow.
You chuckle nervously and take a step back, suddenly aware of how close he’d gotten.
“Obviously not. I-I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.” Stuttering, you try to move away from him but he doesn’t budge, tall figure towering over you. That stupid smirk he has plastered over his face increases your heart rate tenfold.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Have I got you flustered?” He sneers.
“Stop playing around.” You push him away by his chest and escape to the sofa, slumping down it with a huff.
“Padme told me about the little crush you had on me.” He stands behind you and you refuse to face him, consumed with embarrassment.
“Crush is too strong of a word for what that was.” You feel your cheeks burning up at the memory; when you first met Anakin at that bar last Christmas, you’ll admit you initially wanted him all to yourself. But what were you supposed to do when Padme got to him first? You can’t believe she told him.
“So you don’t find me attractive anymore?” He asks in that provocative tone of his.
“The outer shell is fine but the inside could do with a little work.” You feign confidence, avoiding the question. To be truthful, you found him incredibly attractive. So much so that you actively avoided him because you felt yourself folding under pressure anytime he was near.
“Can I let you in on a little secret?” He asked quietly, taking a seat on the footstool across the sofa.
“No, but I sense you’re going to anyway.” You brace yourself.
“That night I saw you and Padme playing pool at the bar.” He begins. “I wanted to approach you, not her.”
Your breath hitches in your throat.
“But she came up to me first and when I asked her who her friend was, she told me you weren’t interested…in men.” Your mouth widens as his words linger in the air.
“I-I don’t know what to say.” You stutter, feeling a small sense of betrayal run through you. “I don’t know why she’d do that.”
“Because she knew she wouldn’t stand a chance otherwise.” He gets up to sit next to you and you tense up at his knee lightly brushing past yours.
“I thought you were a lesbian for half the time I’ve known you- until you started dating that loser a few months ago and Padme had to come clean. She thought I’d find it funny.” He curls his lip in disgust.
“And did you?”
“No.” He responds, steely eyes staring right through you. “I’m still mad about it.”
“Anakin…” You cautiously murmur, sensing the direction this could so easily take.
“I’m just saying, remember that next time you want to rant about how great she is. If it wasn’t for her deceit, it could’ve been us together.” He rests his hand on your leg but you swiftly brush it off.
“But it’s not. And it never will be. You’ll always either be her boyfriend or her ex. Either way, you’re off limits.” You try to assert some boundaries before your self-control completely slips away from you.
“And if it weren’t for these limits?” He reaches his hand up, tucking your hair behind your ear.
“Oh God, the cake! Must go and check on the cake.” You get up, trying to escape his grasp but he pushes you back down.
“I said what if it weren’t for those limits?” He repeats sternly and you can’t help but fixate on his rosy pink lips. You’d always wondered how they’d feel pressed up against yours.
“In another galaxy where you’d never met her-“ You sigh, walls crumbling down. “then I’d be yours.”
“Is that what you want?” His husky voice mutters, barely above a whisper.
“It doesn’t matter because this isn’t another galaxy. This is reality.” You shuffle back a little in an attempt to impose some distance between you.
“Fuck reality. I want you.” He pulls you in and you’re hit with a wave of warmth radiating off his firm body.
“Anakin, no. Padme is my best friend! I’m not a homewrecker.” You cry out, unsure whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself.
“You can’t wreck something that’s already fallen apart. I don’t care about her— I don’t care about any of it anymore. For God’s sake, I even hid the damn buttercream because I wanted her to leave us alone for a while.” Your mouth gapes open at his revelation.
“I knew it!” You point your finger at him but he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you onto him, faces barely an inch apart.
“I need you. In every way possible.” His voice is so breathy it makes you squeeze your thighs together.
“Ugh, Ani I-“
“Do you want me as much as I want you? Please, put me out of my misery.” He whines and you bite your lip over the beautiful desperation in his words.
“Of course I want you, I’ve always wanted you.” The words barely leave your mouth before he grabs your face with both hands and kisses you sloppily, grip on your jaw a little too strong. He has you gasping for air, stubbornly holding onto you like it was the last kiss he’d ever have.
“Don’t you worry about her, I’ll take care of everything.” He rubs your cheek with his thumb comfortingly and you feel all your worries melt away; he was here, he would fix it all.
“I’ve thought about this for so long.” You cry, pawing at him. The sense of elation you felt at finally being able to touch him, inhale him, taste him- after an eternity of forcing every feeling down. You did it all out of respect for Padme, out of respect for Ani who chose her- but now that you’d learned the truth, restraint flew out the window. He should’ve been yours- he is yours.
“Lie down for me sweetheart, I wanna see my pretty girl.” He pushes you down onto the sofa and inches your skirt down, admiring your pretty pink panties. “You wear these just for me?” You nod frantically- it’s true, you wore everything for him. Your best underwear, your prettiest lipstick, your shortest little skirts, it was all for him. He pushes your top up slowly, messy kisses being planted all over your tummy until he reaches your perky tits.
“Is there a reason you’re not wearing a bra, young lady?” He scolds you playfully.
“Mhm, it’s fun watching you fight the urge to stare at the way they bounce and jiggle.”
“You noticed that, huh?” You giggle at his honesty as he rips your top off, laughter instantly replaced with breathy moans as he squeezes your boobs harshly, taking turns sucking on the nipples.
“Best pair of tits I’ve seen in my life.” He mutters into your chest as he continues to kiss and lick all over, making you writhe underneath him.
“Ani, please.” You buck your hips up towards him, desperately needing more. “Hurry, we don’t know when she’ll be home.”
“Then it’s a good thing the door bolts shut from the inside.” He grins, hands trailing down between your thighs.
“Ani, no! We can’t lock her out, what would she think?”
“I don’t care, all I know is if I don’t get enough of this sweet pussy, I’m gonna lose my mind.” He groans as he hooks his arms under your legs and pulls you down, pulling your panties to the side. You bashfully cover your face with your hands as he rubs your clit with his thumb and when you peek through your fingers, you see him biting his lip and curving his eyebrows into a pitiful swoop. Just as you think it can’t get better, he lowers his boxers and frees his cock, heavy length slapping against his stomach. Not wanting to inflate his already engorged ego, you try not to look shocked- but he sees right through you.
“You tryin’ to make me feel bad, sweetie? No problem, I’ll have you squealing in a minute anyway.” He confidently asserts and you feel him rubbing his tip along your soaking folds; the anticipation alone is enough to make you throw your head back.
With one sudden thrust, he pushes himself into your tight pussy and you sink your teeth into the pillow beside you to conceal some of the noise. Reaching forward and grabbing it from you, he tosses it aside and grabs you by the jaw.
“I want to hear every little sound you make. Raw and unmuted.” He growls.
“B-but someone might hear-“
“I don’t give a fuck.” He asserts aggressively. “Let them hear. They might as well start getting used to it now.” You moan at his depraved words, drool forming around your lips.
“If you want something in your mouth that bad, here.” He offers you his fingers- which you accept gratefully, sucking and biting on them to your heart’s content. Just as you’ve adjusted, he slides the rest of his cock in- filling you so deeply you question how it’s even possible. The mewling that proceeds boosts Anakin’s ego more than is healthy; you pant and whine so fervently that you look like you’re on the verge of passing out. Your pupils are dilated, your hair messed up, your thighs dampened with arousal and sweat.
“Ani, mm fuck- fill me up, please!” You dig your fingernails into his back as he lowers himself to kiss your wet lips, silencing your sobs and pleading if only for a moment.
“You want my cum, sweetheart? You wanna be daddy’s cum slut, hm? Let me hear you say it.” His strokes get deeper and sloppier as he hurtles his way to his release.
“Yes daddy, yes! I wanna be your cum slut so bad, it’s the only thing I want.” You ramble, words barely audible over the loud sounds of smacking and squelching.
“I could never say no to you.” He whispers, head tucked into the crook of your neck planting open-mouth kisses.
“I need it, need it noww.” You whine, tits bouncing into circles as he roughly pounds into you, strong hand maintaining a firm grip on your hip as he rams himself into you one last time: cum spilling from his tender cock and filling you up to the brim. Pulling out, the sensation of his cum dribbling out of you doubled with his thumb circling your clit sends you over the edge, orgasm washing over you like a tsunami. He rests his head on your chest as you both catch your breath, running your fingers through his hair.
“I’m gonna leave her.” He softly speaks. “I’m leaving and I’m telling her about us.”
Your heart seizes in both panic and excitement. There’s an us?
The familiar thud of footsteps in the hallway has you both scrambling to get dressed- you pull your top down and your skirt back on but can’t find your frilly panties anywhere. Anakin just about finishes zipping up his jeans when Padme walks in to the sight of her very flustered-looking best friend and boyfriend, sitting oddly far apart in unnatural positions on the couch.
“Hey guys, I had to check several different stores but I finally found the right buttercream, what have you- wait, do I smell something burning?”
Fuck, you forgot the cake.
Running over to the oven, she scrambles to pull out the smoking tray. Despair takes over her face when she sees the round crust, black as cinder.
“How did you forget?! What were you doing?” She yells, throwing the ashes straight into the bin and frowning at you.
“Nothing, Padme. We just got carried away chatting is all. ‘m really sorry.” You walk over to join her in the kitchen but start to feel Ani’s seed leaking out of your stretched-out hole and dribbling down your thighs. Noticing the glistening sticky wetness, Anakin rushes over in front of you to distract Padme.
“It was my fault, I said I’d keep track of time and I didn’t.” He explains, subtly tossing a kitchen towel your way.
“Classic Anakin, honestly a monkey would have better time management.” She hisses, barging past him and opening windows to let the smoke out. “No wonder you can’t keep a job.” He takes a shaky breath and you can see how hard he’s trying to restrain himself.
“Not now.” You think, giving him a knowing glare and he nods reluctantly. Padme stomps over to the bathroom and you quickly wipe the cummy mess off your thighs, giggling a little at the excitement of sneaking around. Anakin rushes over and gives you a feverish kiss, whispering in your ear “She goes to bed early, you know.”
Maybe you wouldn’t tell her just yet.
@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10
Part 2 here
#hayden christensen#star wars fanfiction#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin skywalker smut#anakin x reader#anakin fanfiction#anakin x you#star wars smut#sam monroe#hayden christensen x reader#anakin skywalker#star wars prequels#darth vader#padme amidala#sw prequels
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giving eddie visible hickies and stroking his hair and telling him he’s a good boy. and then dustin seeing them at school and losing his shit lol
He’s always gushing to the hellfire club about you and they just Do Not believe him. And he doesn’t want to invade your privacy by telling them a bunch so he just keeps his mouth shut as much as he can.
But it’s hard because he loves you and he wants to talk about you all the time. He’s a pretty secure guy but the constant teasing gets to him sometimes, especially because he already thinks you’re way out of his league.
So he’ll come home all sad one day and you just instantly know something is wrong. His shoulders sag and he flops down onto the couch looking defeated.
He rests his head in your lap and pouts dramatically, waiting for you to ask what’s wrong. You give him a knowing look and pet his hair softly. “What’s got you all mopey?”
“The Freshman are giving me shit about you.”
You just nod and give him a little kiss on the forehead, having heard this whole thing far too many times already. Sometimes you had half the mind to march down to the school and give those kids a peace of your mind for making your poor Eddie so upset.
Then bam, light bulb moment. You push him off your lap and crawl on top of him. “What’s all this about?” He asks, not one to turn down some good old fashioned fooling around.
Your lips ghost his neck as you whisper, “gonna let me mark you up? Show them you’re mine?” He fucking shivers, like out of body experience. He thought he was going to die right there.
He nodded and you murmur “good boy” before getting to work on his neck. And mark him up you did, he was covered in dark purple hickeys the next day.
When he walked into the lunchroom, his whole table gasped. “You get lucky last night, Munson?” Mike commented.
“I get lucky every night because I have a perfect girlfriend who loves me.” They all rolled their eyes, still not believing a word coming out of his mouth. And he returns home that night, his dilemma remaining unsolved.
He assures you he doesn’t need you to come to his meetings (even though you know how important it is to him) bc he doesn’t want to annoy you.
But one day you’re off work and you figure ‘why not give my boyfriend a little visit’ it’s been a while since you’ve been at Hawkins’s but you find the room eventually.
When you walk in one of the older guys makes a joke and asks you what you’re doing there. And Eddie instantly shuts them down like “dude that’s my girlfriend.”
And when you look at all of them just fucking staring in shock, you decide to give them a little show. “Hi baby. Thought I’d pay you and your friends a visit. Is that ok?”
He’s just like grinning so much and you can’t help but smile back at him when he says “yeah of course, cmon have a seat.” And he pats his lap so you just crawl into the chair with him.
You know it’s rude to the other people in the room but you’re running your hands through his hair and kissing his neck the whole time. He’s absolutely blushing furiously because he’s not used to the PDA at all.
When the meeting is over they all apologize for not believing him, which is more like a congratulations to be honest. One of the freshman (probably Dustin bc we all know he has the audacity) would say “holy shit dude she’s smokin hot.”
And he’d just chuckle and agree, probably letting it go to his head a little that you’re really his and everyone knows it.
Whelp that was longer than I expected. My inbox is full of great stuff but I have work today. Keep sending it and I’ll get to it all eventually!!!
#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#stranger things season 4#stranger things
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Dirty Work 20
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: weekends aren't for rest, they're for being sick and anxious so Monday will be a treat.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
As you enter, you try your best not to make too much noise. You set the bags down lightly and ease the inner door shut. You can hear your dad and the soft sound of puzzle pieces meeting the table.
“Ya know, thirty years almost, but I can see her just like yesterday,” he says.
Your heart clutches. You never heard him talk about your mom. When you were a kid and didn’t know better, he just ignored all your questions about her. When you got older, you stopped asking. You figured it’s easier for both of you to pretend she never was.
“I’m sorry, hon,” Leslie comforts, “you know, in my line of work, I’ve seen it over and over. It’s a wound you can’t heal.”
“Oh yeah,” he grits, “yeah, I’d say…”
You swallow and lean back on your foot, crinkling the bags behind you. You cringe as you hear sudden movement. You turn and work to slip off the white loafers. You pretend like you weren’t listening as Leslie’s shadow looms from the archway.
“You’re home,” she proclaims, “we didn’t think you’d be so early.”
“Me either,” you say as you face her.
Her lashes flick and her mouth opens, “oh my, you look so good! Weren’t you working today?”
“Uh, did some work,” you lie, “I got a few hours off so I… did some running around.”
“Oh, gosh, come on, you have to show your dad,” she takes you by the wrist and tugs you around, “Charles, look at your girl.”
She presents you with her hands on your shoulders. You can’t even look at your dad as the couch creaks and he grunts at your appearance. He snorts and pushes another piece into the puzzle.
“What am I looking at?” He sneers.
“Charles, don’t be like that. Look at her hair, and this dress,” she touches your hips, “must be a nice job, huh?”
“It’s alright,” you shimmy out of her grasp, “I just… needed something more presentable–”
“Something shorter,” your father scoffs, “so when she’s bending to tidy the floors you can see right up.”
“Charles, that’s gross,” Leslie reprimands.
“Truth can be like that,” he snickers, “think some man’s buying her fancy clothes so she can sweep? We both know how she pays for you.”
“No… it’s not…” you shrug and give up, “I’m gonna put my stuff away and start dinner. If you want, you can head off early too.”
“Oh, I don’t mind sticking around,” Leslie says as she once more sits beside your dad, “let me know if you need any help with dinner. Don’t wanna get anything on that nice little dress.”
You nod and hesitate. You can’t tell what she means by that. For as much as she can call out your father, she often speaks with an edge of her own. Just like the cigarettes, she must assume his insults are your fault.
You leave the room and grab the bags. You carry them up the stairs to your room. You shut the door and sit on the end of the bed. You bend and cradle your head, trying to set it straight after the dizzying day.
👠
The bus provides a momentary break from your hostile world. There is no safe place for you. Home is barely that and work is… confusing. Your only escape is to focus on your tasks and get through them. Get through Mr. Laufeyson’s list then come home and the chores left untouched.
Your look at the time on your phone and black the screen. You get a glimpse of your reflection off the glass as you do. You didn't do too bad with the makeup. It looks okay. You tried not to use too much as you recalled Eliana's instructions.
You shake off your doubts and airy feeling around your legs. You're not use to the skirt or the pretty fabrics. You feel overdressed and out-of-place, but the latter is so new to you.
Through the gate and along the edge of the drive, you hear your name flutter in the air. You stop short as you see Frigga strolling along the hedges, caressing the petals of a rose. She draws away and strides towards you, an ivory skirt paired with a golden brown blouse and nude heels.
“You do start early, don’t you?” She approaches and takes your hand, “come, let’s have tea.”
“Oh, uh, I…” you let her tug you along the walkway towards the front door, “the carpenter is coming today–”
“Ah yes, Loki mentioned you were working on restoring the gazebo. That’s lovely. We used to have tea there, me and… his wife. She was a laugh.”
“Mm,” you hum. Whoever this woman was, she must’ve been very special. You imagine a beautiful woman with silky hair and long legs like Frigga. She must’ve fit right in.
“I suppose if it was meant to be, it would be. I only hope my son can find happiness again,” she squeezes your hand before she lets you go.
She opens the door and waves you in ahead of her. You slip out of your flats much easier than your usual lace-up sneakers. She steps out of her heels and sighs.
“That’s his problem, you know? He’s lonely but too proud to admit it,” she sidles around you and leads you down to the kitchen. You follow and watch as she goes to the counter and pours from the waiting teapot. “Though I haven’t seen him today. I suppose he’s sleeping in, it is the weekend.”
You tilt your head but don’t comment. For as long as you’ve worked for him, not very long at all, he’s never slept past your arrival. Well, not so far as you know.
“I do love this skirt,” she comes back around the counter and touches the tweed, “wonderful pairing,” she touches the blouse with the petal shaped cutouts around the high-collar, “you’re learning.”
“Um, yeah, all the clothes are so pretty,” you say.
“Please, have your tea. I’m sure you have time before the carpenter,” she urges.
“Right, er, I’ll just take my bag upstairs first,” you say, “out of the way.”
“Sure,” she accepts with a kind smile, “how about I take this out to the patio, we can enjoy the sun?”
“Alright,” you agree and hike up your bag, “thank you.”
You quickly flit off and head upstairs. You weren’t expecting her to be there. You just hadn’t thought of it. You only dreaded facing your unbendable boss and his persistent stare.
You go into the library and tuck your bag under the writing desk. You double check the schedule in your phone; Ronan, 10. You have an hour before he arrives.
Your mind is already on the gazebo as you scurry back into the hall. As you shut the door gently, you hear a groan. You peer down towards the unusual noise and blink at the slightly ajar door. The main bedroom. Mr. Laufeyson’s. It rises again before a drawn out exhale, his timbre rumbling low.
You quickly set back to your path and flee downstairs. Maybe he’s talking in his sleep, or more likely, stretching out a few kinks. Your curiosity quickly dissipates as you pass through the dining room and out into the patio.
Frigga sits with large pointed sunglasses over her eyes. She tilts her face up to the sunlight as you sit before the other cup of tea. You pull it close and look out at the yard. A streak of green catches your gaze.
You watch the hummingbird hover over fuchsia petals. You stare dreamily, lulled by the peace of the moment as Frigga merely sips and basks. This isn’t so bad. The bird zips between flowers before disappearing behind a tree. In his stead, the skittish chipmunk scrambles along the railing of the patio. You smile at his fluffy tail.
“I’ll be off tomorrow,” Frigga states, “my husband will be expecting me. Oh, but I’ll miss you, darling.”
“Is it very far?” You wonder.
“Four or five hours,” she answers, “not very far but enough. It’s so lovely up where we are. I wish you could see. Perhaps one day. When things are better.”
Before you can answer, there’s a subtle click behind you.
“Morning,” Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is unleashed onto the scene as the patio door swings inward, “mother,” he pauses before he enunciates your name, “beautiful day out.”
Your shoulders stiffen and nearly touch your ears as you sit straight. He pulls out the chair at your other elbow and sets down another teacup with a clink. He sits and smooths back his dark hair, tucking the spiralled ends behind his ears.
“Late morning,” his mother remarks, “any tea left?”
“Some, shall I–”
He puts his hands flat, moving to stand but she shoos him as she’s quicker to rise, “I’ll get it myself. And you darling,” she dips her chin in your direction, “more?”
“Oh, no thanks, I’m still… working on mine. Thank you, Frigga,” you say, mindful of each syllable.
She leaves and the door clicks shut behind her. You stare at the brim of your cup, turning it slowly between your hands as Laufeyson raises his own to his lips. He drinks carefully before putting it down again.
He’s quiet. He shifts and plants an elbow on the table. He turns his attention to the yard and watches. You dare to look up as well, the chipmunk poking his head out from the bush where he hides. He ran away at Mr. Laufeyson’s arrival.
“Cute little fellow,” he remarks as he faces you again. You quickly lower your eyes.
“Uh, yeah…”
“Mmm,” he drones and taps his fingers on the porcelain teacup, “you… that’s a nice shirt.”
“Thanks,” you lift your cup and drain most of it, gulping painfully as you put it back down, “I should go start. Ronan will be here shortly–”
“The carpenter?”
“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I have him penned in–” You explain.
“And? He is a carpenter, he knows what he’s doing. I doubt he needs you watching over his shoulder.”
“I know, uh, but I should be there to let him in,” you slide your cup off the table.
“You’re not even done your tea.”
“I’ll finish on my way in–”
“You’re avoiding me,” he accused and you wince.
“What?”
“You’re running away? Why?” He challenges.
“I’m not, I– I have work to do.”
“Work I give you. I’m your boss, you may sit and finish. I’ll permit it.”
You falter and set the cup on the table. You lower yourself back to the seat and fold your hands. You look at your lap and push your shoulders back. He is back to his haughty demands, you find that part of him easier to handle.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I wasn't running away.”
He scoffs thinly and his nostrils flare as he stares off at the hedges that edge the patio, “I wonder why you can be so quick to flee me when you sat and let my brother feel you up.”
“Huh?” You blanch, stuck by the accusation. “Mr. Laufeyson, I–”
“I know him well and I’m not as blind as my mother. I saw it. You didn’t say a word. You just let him do it,” he clucks, “why?”
Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. You nearly choke, the acidic flavour of the tea drying on your tongue. Was it that bad? You tried not to think about it, to let it affect you, even as the memories flashed in your head, you just tried not to feel anything about it.
“I didn’t… well… he’s your brother, Mr. Laufeyson, I didn’t want to assume… to offend–” you stammer.
“So you let him do what he wants?” He snarlss as he turns his sights on you, a brow arch tritely. “You do not work for him, you work for me.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do,” you sputter, confused by his anger. “I tried to…”
Your voice trails off. No, you didn’t try. You were too afraid too. He’s right, you let Thor keep touching you and you didn’t say anything, you didn’t move, you just froze up.
“It makes me wonder,” he cups his chin, leaning on his elbow, “how far would you let him get, hm?”
“Mr. Laufeyson,” you whimper, “I’m sorry–”
“Did you like how he touched you?”
“N-no, Mr. Laufeyson, no, of course not,” you plead.
“You do not want him to touch you?” He prompts.
“No, I… didn’t know how to say—”
“Shhh,” he hushes you, lifting his chin from his hand and pressing his finger to his lips. He pulls his hand away to point at you, “I’ve a better question…” He reaches towards you and you flinch. You quiver as he traces the cutout along the top of your blouse, “how far would you let me go?”
You squirm as he hooks his finger inside the teardrop window in the fabric. His fingertip brushes you as he gives a slight tug, looming closer as he draws you towards him. He smirks as you stare dumbfounded. What is he doing?
“My brother will not touch you again,” his voice is low and rocky, “I will make sure of it.” He tickles you slightly and rescinds his hand, “and you will make sure to remember who you belong to.”
He sits back and hooks his fingers in the handle of the porcelain mug. As if on cue, the french doors open behind you and Frigga trills as she emerges, “oh, just enough tea,” she announces, “I added a dash of honey this time.”
She places the cup by her empty chair but does not sit. She twirls and paces around the patio, going to the flower boxes along the rail. She leans in to examine them.
“Perhaps the carpenter could have a look here, it’s crooked,” she declares. “And I dare say the guest room has a loose floorboard right near the bed.”
“Mm, perhaps, mother,” Laufeyson drawls as he once more raises his cup, his eyes stuck on you, “my house manager will be sure to ask, won’t she?”
“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you wisp out through your constricted throat, barely registering his command.
You can only hear his previous words echoing, over and over; remember who you belong to. Belong to… No, you only work for him.
#loki#dark loki#dark!loki#loki x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#dirty work#au#maid au#avengers#mcu#marvel#thor
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Head empty just
Sagau but readers cellphone now has infinite battery for some reason and theyre on tiktok and watching genshin edits until one of the acolytes sees and gets curious so reader shows everyone the edits made for then
Zhongli: why am i........geo grandpa
Xiao: morax isn't my father
Yae: what is an........Eiussy and why do these humans want it so bad
Venti: (trying to force scara to have anemo vision after seeing the sad scaramouche edits) BUT THE EDITS, YOUR BACKSTORY IS SCREAMING AIR BOY!!!
Scara: GET THE FUCK OFF ME!!!!
WHOOO MY FIRST REQUEST ASK!!!
anyways-
When I tell you that a phone in TEYVAT would be absolute chaos… I mean it.
I can 99% guarantee you that Albedo has asked to experiment on what he refers to as Their Grace’s “strange device.”
(Please keep your phone away from him, as it will not make it out of his lab intact.)
Other acolytes who aren’t as curious about HOW and WHY it works may find interest on seeing you use your device to watch videos.
The people of Teyvat aren’t familiar with advanced technology, so I’d assume it’s fair to say that they would treat your phone as a Divine Object, comparable to the Anemo Archon’s Holy Lyre.
Since you are The Creator, it would be valued a lot more.
Nobody, not even one of the Archons, is allowed to touch such a holy object. Such a thing would be viewed as incredibly disrespectful. How could any of them, lowly acolytes, have the audacity to come into contact with your beloved “phone”?
Now, assuming that the reader can still watch Tik Toks, of course they would like to share some of them with certain characters, because why not?
Also, why wouldn’t you let them in on some of the jokes that are popular in the Genshin Fandom?
If Zhongli knew that he was referred to as “Geo Grandpa” I think his reaction would be one of initial shock.
“What does the title ‘Geo Grandpa’ indicate, Divine One?”
After a little explanation from you, I think he’d catch on. He is aware of his age, after all.
Others may think that the title “Grandpa” is offensive towards a former archon of all things, but he doesn’t mind as long as you are the one saying it. The term “Grandpa” is often used between mortals in a family, so does this mean that you considered him as family?
Whenever you call him by that name, you can expect to see a soft smile across his features.
When Xiao discovered that the fandom considers his relationship with Morax to be one of father and son, he was speechless for a good minute.
You gave him a look, trying to suppress your laughter.
“So…? You’re not denying it.”
He huffed, crossing his arms. “Morax is not my father.”
You wheezed, clearly amused by his flustered expression. Xiao was avoiding your gaze, clearly trying his best to convince you that he did not see the older man as a father figure.
The term “Eiussy” was completely unknown to the Lady Guuji… until she joined you in watching the short films know as “Tik Toks” on the magical screen of the divine “phone”
Now, Yae Miko is quite clever, so it was only natural that she would grasp the concept of what “Eiussy” meant.
She watched a few videos which featured similar titles, such as “Tartussy”, “Scarussy”, and “Kokussy”. All of them played a key role in her eventual understanding of just what exactly “Eiussy” meant.
The very moment she learns the true meaning, I can guarantee you that she will casually bring it up in conversation.
“Your Grace, you would be welcome at Watatsumi Island anytime!” Gorou beams, waving goodbye to you from the docks of Ritou.
The Watatsumi ship had finally arrived, after a lengthy delay following your business meeting with the Inazuman Officials.
“Thank you, Gorou.” You started to say… but the ever famed doggy general had already boarded the ship, and was out of your sight.
“Hmm…” a recognizable voice trailed, as her hand lightly touched your shoulder. Miko gave you a knowing look. “I guess he wanted to get some of that Divineussy”
Your expression remained blank.
“Perfect use of that title.” You praised, staring after the ship, as it departed into the sunset.
If and when Venti saw all of the sad Scaramouche edits… let’s just say that you’d have to physically restrain him.
Restrain him from making his way over to the Balladeer as soon as possible, that is.
Scaramouche would just be doing Fatui work, maybe trying to convince the recruits that the stars are indeed a lie…
And… bam.
A random ass bard pops up out of nowhere.
“Good day! Would you be interested in gaining an anemo vision?”
“What the fuck.”
#cultau#sagau#genshin impact#genshin impact sagau#genshin cult au#genshin crack#genshin sagau#venti#zhongli#genshin xiao#scaramouche
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𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part two)
read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) here
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || these video calls have become the new normal for the two of you, but it might be time to take the next step.
𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 3.2k
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; video call sex, dirty talk, use of sex toys, and a touch of breeding kink), sex work (again, kind of inherent to the whole thing), basically porn without plot but with feeeeelinggsssss 💕
(this week's challenge for @the-slumberparty was to write a follow up to something I wrote previously, figured there was an obvious solution to that prompt!)
“Did you get what I asked you to?” you asked with a coy smile.
“Yeah, it’s right here…”
He held up the fleshlight in front of the camera's view, strategically angled down to his chest and lap so he could keep his face hidden, and couldn't help but notice that mischievous sparkle in your eye. “Have you tried it yet?”
“No, I figured I’d wait to see what you wanted me to do with it,” he replied, and you laughed.
“Well, there’s really only one thing you can do with it, sweetie,” you purred— why did that little pet name turn him on so much? “I want you to fuck it. I wanna watch you fuck it.”
"Okay," he breathed, "sounds… interesting."
"I'd like to see your face— you know, see you really react to how it feels— but I know you said you don't want to yet…"
It already gave him a little anxiety that you were seeing his body, if covered up by the t-shirt and boxers, but you at least acted like you were enjoying what you saw so far. "Will you settle for seeing how hard I am instead?" he asked, and you licked your lips.
"Seems like a fair trade," you giggled.
He reached into his boxers, but saw that the view of the webcam cut him off— so he slowly tilted his laptop down, letting the camera pan to his hand around his leaking cock.
“Oh— fuck, that’s really you?” you choked.
“Yeah,” he answered, not sure if that was the right or wrong answer but knowing it was at least the true one.
“Hold up… three fingers, right now,” you ordered suddenly, “with your other hand.”
Confused but not willing to question it, he put his free hand in frame and did as you’d asked.
“Just— you know, just checking,” you explained, “people can, like, hack Zoom and put up a video or something, wanted to make sure it’s really you…”
“Is it that hard to believe?” he wondered.
“It’s just that, you know… you’re big,” you mumbled. “I mean, no offense to my viewers or anything, but—definitely the biggest I’ve seen in a video call, I’ll say that.”
That made his cock flex in his hand. “So, you like it then?”
“Like it? Wish you could’ve seen how wet I got when that popped up,” you laughed. “God, I would suck you—I mean I would really suck your cock, lick it all over, taste those balls—”
He squeezed his cock in his hand, snarling a little. “That’s so hot,” he groaned.
“And I can just tell you’d go so deep inside me,” you added, making his chest tighten up. “Do you know how many inches it is? I wanna try to find the closest toy I have to your size, then I can really imagine how you’d feel in my pussy.”
He was almost high just on the knowledge that you wanted to imagine that. “Uh—eight, maybe eight and a half…”
"Fuck," you breathed. "Yeah, I— I think I have a vibrator that size, but I'm not sure it'll be… thick enough…"
"Well, mine doesn't vibrate," he warned you with a laugh.
"Yeah, and mine isn't dishwasher safe," you returned.
"Oh god— people clean these in the dishwasher?" Dieter realized with a shudder.
"Yeah— I'm guessing you've never used one before?" you pressed, and he shook his head— before he remembered you couldn't see it.
"No," he answered aloud. "I, uh, usually just prefer the real thing."
"Right— me too, but you know, we make do," you laughed. "So? Wanna give it a spin?"
"I, uh, I guess so…"
Grabbing the toy from the little bedside table, he looked at it for a moment— it was shaped like a vulva around the opening, but it wasn't that realistic. First of all, it was only one color; second of all, the design was so simplified that it was missing the things he loved most about a pussy in terms of looks. Not the Dieter had ever thought the visual element was its strongest…
But yours was gorgeous— beyond perfect. Looked edible, delicious even, with a clit he wanted to suck on for hours and a cute little hole he couldn't imagine being lucky enough to fill with his cock. And this toy was just that— a toy, a piece of silicone, and he really only had any interest in it because this whole thing was your idea.
Sighing, he slipped the toy down on himself; he wasn't sure what he was expecting, really, but it was a unique feeling. Not as hot or wet as a real body, of course, but there was a nice pressure to it.
“How’s it feel?” you asked warmly.
“Good,” he breathed— not a very creative answer, but the best one he could come up with now. “Way better than my hand, but nothing like, you know—”
“Nothing like me?" you assumed.
He sighed as he started to stroke himself with the toy— long, slow movements to get used to it. "Yeah," he agreed, "nothing like— fuck— like you…"
"Are you imagining it's me instead?" you pressed, leaning in closer and watching intently. "Imagining me riding you nice and slow like that? Letting you hold my hips and move me just how you like?"
"I'm certainly trying to," he mumbled.
"Look how wet I am," you encouraged, and he leaned his head to the side a bit so he could see the screen better: you had your legs spread wide for him, and your fingers were rubbing your glistening cunt. "I'd drench your cock, baby, probably make a fucking mess on you—"
"Fuck," he moaned, "use the toy on yourself. Fuck yourself with it while I'm doing this."
You spread your legs and pushed the vibe inside— but you didn't turn it on— with a sigh; you were already finding a place you liked by pushing it in and out with your hand, but he stopped you before you got too into it.
"No," he corrected, "ride it."
You smirked. "Maybe my legs are sore."
"Maybe I don't give a fuck."
You bit your lip and sat up, holding the toy between your legs and rocking your hips as you started to ride.
He whimpered when he saw the way you were enjoying the toy— you picked it because it was close to his size, so it was impossible not to picture being under you and watching you sink yourself down on him just like that.
"Feels so good," you panted, "been wet all day waiting for our call… and I can't stop staring at your cock…"
"You really like our calls that much?" he wondered, knowing your answer couldn't be totally honest but not really caring anymore— he craved the fantasy, that was why he couldn't stop booking these.
"Yeah," you hummed. "Don't tell anyone, but you're my favorite."
"Don't… don't flatter me," he pleaded, trying to remind himself that you were just saying nice things because you were paid to.
"It's true," you assured. "Your voice turns me on like crazy— not to mention the shit you actually say with it…"
Figuring he should treat you to a little bit of that dirty talk you apparently enjoyed, he swallowed and conjured some courage to boss you around a bit. "Turn around— wanna see your ass," he demanded, moaning louder when you did as you were told. "Look so fuckin' good riding that…"
You arched your back further just to give him a better view; he hissed, pumping the toy faster.
"God, you drive me crazy showing off your ass like that," he admitted with a groan. "Needs a good spank but I'm afraid to crack my computer screen."
You laughed a little, but reached back and pulled your ass apart so he could get a better view of that pink hole swallowing up the toy.
"Jeeeeeesus fucking Christ," he grunted, moving his own toy faster. "You've got the most beautiful cunt, baby, I swear…"
"And you've got such a nice cock," you replied with a groan. "Can't stop thinking about it— I just know you'd stretch me out, baby, the way I like—"
"Fuck, I would," he promised. "I know how you need it, I just know— I swear I wouldn't stop until you came all over me, until you fucking soaked me—*
"Baby," you panted.
"And then I still wouldn't stop until you did it again—"
"Fuck!" you whined, and he saw your pussy tighten on the vibrator. "That sounds so fucking good— sounds like exactly what I need. Just to be fucked until I can't think anymore…"
"God— you don't need to think," he promised. "Just need to keep your legs open, I'll do the rest."
You moaned louder, and bounced faster on the fake cock. "Yeah, I will— I'll just let you do all the work, okay? Lay back and let you do what you want?"
*Fuck, yeah," he mumbled. "Let me give that pussy what if needs… I know what you need, I can tell. You need it deep, right?"
"Yeah…"
"And hard? Fast?"
"Yes—"
"Shit, baby— turn around again, miss that pretty face— and I know you wanna look at it more, don't you? You really like looking at my cock?"
You laughed slightly as you quickly turned back to face the camera. "I mean— I wanna do a lot more than look at it, but this is all I can do right now."
"What else do you wanna do with it, then?"
"Choke on it," you answered instantly. "Beg for it."
"Fuck," he whispered.
"Rub my pussy on it, show you how bad I need you…"
"Mm," he moaned in agreement.
"Then I could just… slide it inside, try to fit you in my little hole, feel you going so deep…"
A little whimper slipped from his lips accidentally, and his eyes shut for a moment as he tried to picture it— you in his lap right now, looking back over your shoulder as you guided his cock into you. It was a great image, but the toy wasn't enough— it wasn't warm enough to be you.
It was much better when he opened his eyes and saw how desperately you looked; you were literally dripping on the toy and he thought he might lose his mind.
"You like watching me use this that much?" he noticed. "You're so dirty, baby— so turned on watching my dick fill this fake pussy. I know you wish you were here instead— we both do."
“Oh my god,” you gasped, “I want you to fuck the toy just like you’d fuck me, please…”
He started to buck his hips up into it; he loved seeing the way your face changed when you watched him using the fleshlight more… aggressively. "How's that look?" he prompted you with a smirk. "You wanna be fucked like this?"
"God yes— I wanna be your toy, Hector," you informed him with a purr. "I'm jealous of it, actually— I'm watching you fuck that fake pussy and I'm jealous…"
"I always get jealous," he replied. "All those toys that get to feel you every night in your streams? I'm always thinking that should be me— I wanna make you come even harder than they do."
“I know you’d feel so much better,” you whimpered, “I know you’d fuck me better—you know how fucking tired I am of riding these toys? How badly I just want you to hold me down and fuck me as hard and deep as you want?”
“Fuck, I want that too,” he groaned.
“Yeah? Wanna use me?”
“Mhm,” he nodded.
"Wanna make me your toy?" you prompted.
Wanna make you my girl, he barely stopped himself from blurting out. "Y-yeah," he choked out instead.
Stroking himself faster with the toy, he grunted softly and adjusted his hips on the bed. "When you come, take the toy off," you instructed, "so I can see it. Pretty please?"
"Of course," he agreed. "It'll be hard to stop, but— I can do it, for you."
"How romantic," you cooed, and it wasn't totally clear how much you were joking. "I wanna see you coming so I can imagine how it would all feel inside me…"
"That's what I'm gonna imagine, too," he promised with a sigh, "all that come going deep inside you… and keeping you full all night so none of it goes to waste…"
"Fuck," you groaned, "are you that possessive, need to stay inside me all night? Won't let any of your come leak out?"
"Yeah— I'm… very possessive."
"Well, I like… being possessed…"
"Do you like being bred?"
You grinned, and he felt almost guilty for saying it— but the feeling was oddly erotic somehow. "Yeah," you breathed. "I like that… I like getting filled with come, hearing you promise that you're— fuck— gonna knock me up…"
He groaned as he tightened his gut to try to stave off the inevitable orgasm approaching. "I wasn't even into that until I started watching you," he admitted with a sigh, "used to be my worst fear, honestly… but now it's all I can think about… fucking you raw, knowing you're not on anything, knowing you could get—"
"Just— just pretend," you interrupted suddenly. "It's okay if it's just pretend, right?"
He was pleasantly surprised by the vulnerability of that. You could've just played into it, since it was all over video call anyways and didn't make much difference. It's not like he was going to get you pregnant from another continent. But he appreciated that you spoke up for yourself, even if he wasn't totally sure why. "Yeah, of course," he promised, voice a little softer. "That's the thing— even just pretending drives me crazy, turns me on like nothing else. You made me like this— don't even know how, but you made me want that."
"Fuck, that's— I'm close," you admitted, "really fucking close to coming for you… what else do I make you want?"
"You make me wanna buy you stuff," he added, laughing breathlessly. "Spoil you, you know. So much more than flowers."
"God, you know just what to say, don't you?" you sighed. "What else— just tell me what you want, tell me everything."
“I want you to be mine,” he answered, too lost in pleasure to be self-conscious about the honesty. “I want you to be only mine—want you here with me, want you in my bed all the fucking time, wanna make you come and make you say that you fucking belong to me.”
“Oh, fuck,” you whined, “that’s— fuck, I— I’m yours. I belong to you.”
“God,” he gasped, nearly a sob it was so intense— he never thought you’d really say that. “Don’t want you to let anybody else fuck you, or touch you. Just mine, baby, you need to just be mine—”
“I am, I am,” you promised. “I swear I’m fucking yours. Don’t want anybody else—just want you, it’s all yours, whatever you want—m’gonna be your girl. Your whore.”
“Fuck!” he moaned loudly, moving the toy so fast it was just a greyish blur over his cock. “When you come, you tell me whose you are— I’m gonna fucking come, just say it.”
“Yours, yours,” you promised, over and over, “you’re making me come, it’s you— yours, m'yours—”
He groaned loudly as he pulled the toy off of himself just in time for come to paint his stomach and thighs. He rode out his high untouched as he listened to your own cries, and kept his eyes trained on your face as you sobbed through the pleasure. “Fuck,” he sighed, “don’t stop, just keeping riding it—good girl.”
“Mhm,” you whimpered, shaking as you kept going, nodding and biting your lip. “Yeah, whatever you want…”
“Don’t stop until I tell you,” he ordered. “You keep riding that fucking dick, I don’t care if you can’t come anymore, keep fucking going—”
“Yes,” you promised, “I’m still going… I won’t stop, not until you say.”
Catching his own breath, he waited until your legs looked ready to give out before telling you that you could stop. The toy was drenched, your body was glistening with sweat—and he was panting so hard he felt dizzy.
“Holy shit,” you whispered. “I mean—fuck.”
“So you liked that, too?” he noticed, and you smiled hazily.
“Yeah—that was… damn. You wear me out, man.”
He laughed, though he barely had the air for it. “I wear you out? You see the contents of my balls all over the fucking place here?”
You laughed, then, and he still thought it was the best sound in the world, even better than hearing you come. “Yeah, fair,” you relented. “It was really hot, though—watching you come. Is it bad if I wanna make you do it again?”
“Shit, tonight? I don’t think I can—”
“No, no, not tonight, that might kill both of us,” you laughed. “I meant next time…”
That made him deflate a bit. Maybe this was all an upsell—it was just about getting him to pay for the next session, keeping him hooked so you could get the money and gifts.
“I was thinking, uh… maybe next time—oh god, this is a bad idea, but—maybe next time could be in person?"
And then his heart jumped. “We could, uh… that’s an option? We could meet up?” he rushed out, hoping not to sound too eager but failing completely.
“Yeah,” you decided, looking more self-conscious than he’d ever seen you. “I don’t know, I just— it feels different with you. That might be stupid but, it’s true. And the truth is, I know everybody probably assumes a lot because of the camming and stuff, but I haven’t had sex in… years. Just the toys. And I fucking miss it.”
“Yeah, me too,” he breathed. “I mean, uh, it hasn’t been that long for me… but I miss it— and I… I think I need you. Like, really need you.”
You smiled, and it was different than any of the ways he'd seen you smile before. "Yeah, I— I feel that, too. But, if we're gonna meet in person… I need to see your face."
Sighing shakily, he thought about it clearly for the first time. He was scared of meeting you in person, as badly as he wanted it. He was scared whatever magic you felt over video call wouldn't translate to real life; he was scared to disappoint you.
But he was more scared of losing you because he never had the guts to try. So, with a deep breath, he tilted the laptop back, and let the camera show his face.
His hair was even messier than he expected, so he tossed it with his fingers a bit, but otherwise just let you get a good look at him.
He'd spent most of his life being looked at— he'd spent most of his life trying to be looked at, fighting to be the center of attention. He wore shades and ball caps to avoid the paps like anyone else— because he thought he was supposed to— but deep down, he was addicted to being seen, in spite of his introversion.
He'd never felt as seen as he did when you were looking at him through that stupid webcam. He almost blushed, though he wasn't sure why.
"Hi," you greeted softly, sounding almost completely different than before.
"Hi," he said back.
#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo smut#dieter bravo x y/n#dieter bravo x female reader#dieter bravo x you#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal x reader#navy and roo's sleepover
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Heartbreaks & Happy Birthdays
Happy sleepover Saturday y’all, I thought I’d kick it off with a miracle, yes you are seeing this right I wrote a fic for Bradley! @roosterforme I know you are somewhere victory dancing 😂. Hope you guys enjoy it!
Pairing- Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x reader
Warnings- drinking, allusions to smut, language, angst.
Summary- you throw Bradley a birthday party and it ends in disaster, can you move past it or is it time to let him go?
It had started out as such a good weekend, for the life of him he couldn’t figure out when it went wrong.
Bradley had turned 37 on Thursday and you’d agreed to spend the weekend with him, getting off of work early Thursday to cook his favorite dinner (a recipe of Carole’s you’d found in storage) and treating him to a fancy new lingerie set that had been an absolute hit, you even let him take some pictures and videos for his next deployment which he couldn’t wait to watch over and over again on nights when he couldn’t hold you close. You were his sweet quiet girl and although the two of you couldn’t be more different it just made sense when you were together, he brought out a side of you that no one else could, he was a live wire, his bright smile and infectious energy captivated everyone who interacted with him but when he was with you? It was like puzzle pieces snapping in to place, a perfect mix of yin and yang that just fit seamlessly.
You and a few members of his squad had been planning him a surprise party for weeks, you’d mostly let Phoenix handle all the invites and had thrown yourself into decorating and finding a caterer, even Jake had helped by asking one of his buddies to dj for the night, the country club the boys played golf at had graciously let you rent the conference room and it was sure to be an evening to remember.
Friday night came and you had convinced him that he was just going out for dinner at the restaurant in the clubhouse with a few of his friends, dressed in a floral button down with some black slacks he looked like he’d stepped right out of a magazine, you were having trouble keeping your thoughts together as he pulled into the lot in his shiny blue bronco, swollen biceps stretching the soft material from all the pushups he’d been doing lately. You hadn’t even realized he’d been talking to you until he stroked your cheek, eyebrow cocked and a knowing smile on his face, of course he could see right through you, he knew you’d been checking him out. “Oh Bradley I’m so sorry, I don’t know where my head was, what did you say?” He chuckled as he unbuckled you and pulled you across the bench seat by your waist, rucking up the sides of your sundress as you went, using his massive left hand to curl around your jaw and the back of your neck as he kissed you breathless, running the other hand up your back and shoulder as he ran his tongue along your lips and you opened for him with a breathy moan, tongues tangled together and reducing you to a puddle. He pulled away much sooner than you would have liked, causing a whine to tear from your throat as you chased his lips. “I know it, I’m gonna take my time with you later sweetness but you did all this planning for dinner so let’s go eat and then I can have my dessert.”
When you made a sharp turn towards the conference room he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, but quickly realized what you were up to as the doors were thrown open to everyone yelling surprise at him. He’d never had a surprise party, hell he hadn’t had a birthday party since he was a kid, he couldn’t believe that everyone had pulled this together under his nose, the boys quickly drug him away for a drink and you and Phoenix just laughed at how excited he looked. It looked like just about everyone Bradley worked with was here, including quite a few people you’d never seen before, but it was expected really; your boyfriend never seemed to meet a stranger and that much was evident by the wall to wall crowd dancing the night away. Somehow he’d pulled you into the middle of the dance floor, twirling you around the floor and kissing you breathless amongst the sweaty bodies and flashing lights, it should have been overwhelming but he always seemed to make you feel comfortable in the most vulnerable situations.
You finally excused yourself and headed for the rest room, you were sure you looked a mess and as you checked yourself over in the mirror you were definitely right. Kiss swollen lips and smudged lipstick, hair all in disarray and you giggled to yourself at the thought of what was to come later that night. As you stepped into the stall you heard a group coming in behind you, no doubt doing the same as you but when you heard them talking you realized they were gossiping about you. “I really don’t get it, she’s a librarian or something right? Could she be any more boring looking?” One said to the other and you could hear her friend agreeing, “I mean at least when you guys were hooking up it made sense, you both have so much in common, I’m sure he’ll get bored eventually Lisa don’t even worry about it, she can’t honestly think they’re going to last.”
You were so humiliated, had you really come off as plain and uninteresting? Was Bradley bored of you? You thought things were going so well and yes you had honestly been thinking about what a future with him might hold, it had only been six months but you’d never felt so loved by anyone. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you waited for them to leave, finally it got quiet and the booming music filtered through the room as someone opened the door, unlocking the stall you made your way out of the door only to realize the girl who had apparently hooked up with your boyfriend was still preening over herself in the mirror. You swiped your eyes with a tissue as you felt your skin flush and prickle, knowing her eyes were on you. She capped her lipstick and fussed with her hair, giving you a once over as she stepped towards the door. “No offense sweet pea, you seem nice but what Bradley needs is someone wild; a big personality to match his and you just aren’t that. You won’t be enough, he needs more than just a quiet wallflower to keep his attention, I’d enjoy it while it lasts if I were you.”
It felt like you’d been slapped, you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond as more tears came, you needed to get out of here; the room was spinning and you couldn’t get a deep breath, you stumbled out into the crowded space only to see that same girl with her hand on Bradley’s arm, you didn’t stick around to see anything else, your heart couldn’t bear it. Opening the ride share app you typed in your address and thanked the stars that there was only a two minute wait, typing out a half ass apology about feeling sick to Bradley and Natasha as you cried all the way home.
By the time Bradley got your message you were long gone, he had been wandering around looking for you but no one seemed to know where you’d been. He stepped outside and called you immediately but it went to voicemail, trying again with the same result. He messaged you ask if you needed him to come to you, but you replied that he should enjoy the party and that you needed to sleep, and as torn as he was he trusted that everything was ok, promising to bring you breakfast in the morning and spend the day with you. You’d cried until you couldn’t anymore and then had the worst sleep you’d had in ages, waking up to a pounding headache and knocking at your door. It was nearly 10 am, you weren’t the sleeping in type and when you checked your phone you had a litany of missed calls and texts. You groaned as you trudged down the hall to your door, not bothering to see who it was before you opened it, only to be met with the honey brown eyes of your ridiculously handsome boyfriend, coffee and a donut from your favorite shop in hand as he looked you over. “Oh baby you look like you feel awful, come on let’s get you back in bed, dr. Bradshaw has exactly what you need.” He’d said with a wink, he was acting as though everything was normal but you couldn’t bring yourself to reciprocate, just shrugging lightly and letting him usher you back to bed.
You’d let him in and settled into bed with him as he turned on a movie, but your smile wasn’t meeting your eyes and he could barely get a word out of you. He was really starting to worry that he’d done something wrong, but no matter how he wracked his brain he was coming up with nothing.
He’d told you once that when you smiled at him it was like you held all the answers in the universe in that one look, like you could solve any problem with a kiss and make everything ok. He wanted to be that for you, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what was wrong. You’d all but turned away from him in bed and fallen asleep halfway through the movie, leaving him even more confused than before, you’d planned him an elaborate party and now you wanted nothing to do with him? What the hell was going on?
When you woke a few hours later you felt more yourself, but turning over in bed to find it empty sent worry through you all over again. “Bradley?” You called as you came down the hall, hearing the drone of the tv you sighed in relief as you found him texting on his phone while some basketball game played in the background. He gave you a small smile and held his arms out for you, but you hesitated; and he noticed. “Ok, you gotta talk to me baby I’m completely lost here, what is going on with you? We were aces yesterday and now you don’t want to touch me, I can’t fix it if I don’t know why it’s broken honey, you gotta give me something.” Your eyes welled up with tears again as you plopped down on the couch, if Bradley had been confused he was even more so now. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I know I probably ruined everything. I know I’m not the prettiest or the most fun to hang out with but I want so badly to be enough for you and I’m worried that you’ll get tired of me.” You couldn’t meet his gaze, and he was looking at you like you’d grown a third eye, his handsome features scrunched up in confusion as he tried to process what you meant. “Baby have I been making you feel like that? Shit if I have I’m so sorry-“
“Wha-no! You haven’t at all, it’s just there was this girl last night at the party, she said you guys had dated and that I wasn’t your type, and then I saw you talking with her at the party and I just- I couldn’t stand it. Thinking that I was holding you back from being who you are, I never want to be that to you.” You were staring very intently at your hands when you saw his come in to view and wrap them around you, pulling you to face him. “That girl that you’re talking about, was it Lisa?” You nodded and he rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw so hard it looked like he might snap it. “Honey I never dated her, we had a drunken hookup one time and I told her she wasn’t my type, I don’t know what the hell she said to you but she’s dead wrong. You’re everything to me, and if you’d waited around long enough last night you would’ve seen the surprise I had planned for you.”
Now it was your turn to look confused, why would he have planned something for you on his birthday? But as you looked up at him he knelt on the floor, producing a small box from his pocket. “I mean it sweet girl, you’re everything I want and I had planned on asking you this last night but you vaporized before I got the chance. I don’t need some wild free spirit, I need someone to keep me on solid ground, someone who loves me for who I really am and not the persona I have to put out to everyone around me. I want quiet nights and dancing in the kitchen and maybe one day a house full of little ones but I want it with you. So if you still want that, will you be my wife?” He was crying now too, this perfect man was everything you’d ever dreamed of and you’d nearly let something so trivial take it from you. You didn’t have to think of an answer, surging forward into his arms as you both toppled to the floor, laughing and kissing as he placed his mother’s engagement ring on your finger. All he needed was right here, warmth and love and happiness, he couldn’t think of a better birthday present than you.
Tagging🏷️- @attapullman @mamachasesmayhem @sailor-aviator @bobgasm @bradshawssugarbaby @sebsxphia @roosterforme @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby @goldenseresinretriever @mynameismckenziemae
#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster x y/n#bradley rooster x reader#bradley bradshaw x you#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#rooster x you#top gun rooster#rooster x reader#rooster top gun#rooster bradshaw fic#sorchathered’s 300 follower celebration#300 follower sleepover
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Subtle
Azriel x Reader, Nesta x Reader, Nessian
Summary: Reader and Nesta have a crush on each other but aren’t sure if they should make a move.
A/N: WHY DO I KEEP MAKING CASSIAN SUCH A SUB??
I’m getting so hyped for poly!+ ACOTAR week!! I have so many drafts on the go rn
Wordcount: 1.2K
Warnings: Mostly fluff; Slightly sexual themes; Mention of cuck!Cassian (he’s so hot for that); Poly! relationship
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ
Sharing their bed was nothing new to Cassian and Nesta, often inviting both males and females to join them.
Cassian didn’t often get jealous, in fact - he quite enjoyed when Nesta would seek out other males. The only rule was that he wanted to watch.
Cassian was willing to give Nesta her privacy when it came to females. He understood that it was a different kind of intimacy. On occasion, Nesta would allow an audience. If Cassian was lucky, he’d be invited to join in.
The couple were getting ready to head out to Rita’s with the rest of the Inner Circle. There was nothing out of the ordinary about tonight, except for Nesta’s growing feelings for their friend, Y/N.
Nesta pauses in front of the mirror, trying to calm her racing mind. Her hair was styled in her signature coronet, and her sleek black dress perfectly hugged her figure.
Cassian walks up behind Nesta, admiring his mate as he slides his arms around her waist and kisses her tenderly on the cheek.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks, concern lacing his voice.
“I’m nervous about tonight. About seeing Y/N,” She admits.
Cassian gives Nesta a small, reassuring smile, moving his hands to rest on her hips. “I wondered when this was going to come up. I noticed your affection towards her has grown. I just want you to be happy, my love.”
Nesta turns in Cassian’s arms to face him. “I know,” She says. “But I can’t tell if she feels the same. And I have no idea if Az will be okay with it.”
Cassian ponders her statement. “Do you want me to try broaching the topic with him?” He asks.
“I know it’s not your strong suit, but please try and be subtle. I don’t want to ruin things between us.”
“Sweetheart, subtle is my middle name,” Cassian grins widely.
————
At Rita’s, Cassian, Azriel and Rhys are sat at their signature booth with glasses of whiskey in hand. The females are off dancing together; Mor with Feyre, and Nesta with Y/N.
Y/N throws her head back at something Nesta says, her melodic laughter barely heard over the music. The pair hold hands and spin around together, completely ignorant of the people around them.
Cassian watches his mate and her friend with a small smile. He would give anything to make Nesta happy. He takes a big sip of his drink before inclining his head towards Azriel. “Has Y/N ever expressed interest in females before?”
Rhys eyes his brothers, opting to stay quiet and see where this conversation is going. Azriel smirks and arches a brow. “Huh, why do you want to know that?” He asks.
Cassian shrugs, failing at his attempt to seem casual. “I was just wondering,” He says cooly.
“That’s a funny thing to wonder about my mate,” Azriel goads, “I’d ask the same about yours, but we both know the answer to that question.”
Rhys coughs, raising his hand to his mouth to keep his drink from spraying across the table.
Cassian sighs, “You know you’re a prick, right?”
“You can tell Nesta to make her move,” Azriel says with a wink.
————
Y/N extends a hand, bowing to Nesta as a slow ballad starts to play throughout the hall. “Will you join me for this dance, milady?” She asks, each word laced with giggles now that the faewine has taken effect.
Nesta takes her hand, bowing in return. “I would be delighted,” she replies.
They both smile as they hold each other in a close embrace, swaying to the music. At this proximity, Y/N can’t avoid looking into Nesta’s eyes, and she risks a glance down to her lips.
Only for a second, but long enough that Nesta caught it.
Nesta’s lips curl upwards slightly and she tilts her head closer to Y/N’s.
“You don’t have to be shy with me,” Nesta murmurs as her gaze drops to Y/N’s mouth. Rather than quickly averting her eyes, Nesta lingers, taking in the soft curves - wondering how they’ll feel, what they’ll taste like.
Y/N’s heart pounds and the music fades into a dull roar as she stands still in her embrace with Nesta. The moment she’d thought about since the two first met was finally reality.
Their bodies fit together even better than Y/N had dreamed. They move in time, close enough to feel the others’ breath on their face.
Just a little bit more, that’s all it would take to close that gap, and maybe ruin their friendship.
Y/N doesn’t have to decide as Nesta chooses for her. She surges forward, pressing her soft lips to Y/N’s in a sweet kiss.
It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to make Y/N’s blood heat.
They part, breathing unevenly, Y/N bites her lower lip as she looks up into Nesta’s steel-blue eyes. “Do it again,” Y/N pants.
Nesta gently holds Y/N’s cheek as their lips meet again. It’s tender and unhurried, but it’s clear that Nesta is the one in control. Her tongue slips between Y/N’s lips, exploring and claiming her mouth.
They part for air, resting forehead against forehead and continue to sway to the music. They both smile shyly, cheeks flushed pink, not noticing anyone but each other.
They dance for a few more songs together before heading back to their booth for a drink. Azriel wraps his arm around Y/N as she slips into the seat beside him.
Y/N blushes furiously as a rather pleased-looking Nesta takes the seat opposite her, next to Cassian.
Cassian uses the bond to speak to Nesta, ‘That wasn’t exactly subtle.’
Nesta replies with the mental image of her making a vulgar gesture.
————
After calling it a night, Y/N heads home with Azriel, walking hand in hand along the Sidra.
They stop at the end of the Rainbow, admiring the display of colours. Azriel takes Y/N’s other hand and kisses her lovingly. “Did you have fun tonight, my love?” Azriel asks, his lips curled into a soft small.
Y/N grips his hands tighter as she blushes again, and looks down at their feet. She had been harbouring feelings for Nesta from the moment they met. Azriel picked up on them fairly quickly through the bond. Though Y/N did her best to hide them, she couldn’t cover up just how alive the female made her feel.
Azriel gently lifts her chin so their eyes meet. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear before running his thumb over her cheek. “No need to be shy, my love. You already had my blessing. I am happy for you.”
Y/N looks up at her mate with wide eyes, silver tears threatening to spill over the edge. “Are you sure?” She asks.
“Of course,” Azriel kisses her softly, “If Nesta brings you more happiness, how can I deny you that? And besides, this” —he points at her chest, over her heart— “has so much love in it. There’s not any less for me if you give some to Nesta as well.”
Y/N wraps her arms tightly around Azriel, inhaling the scent of him, feeling the firmness of his body in her arms. “I love you so much.” She murmurs into the crook of his neck.
“I love you too, Y/N,” Azriel says, kissing the top of her head.
#poly!acotar#acotar#acosf#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#a court of thorns and roses#acotar oneshot#acomaf#azriel x reader#nesta x reader#nessriel#nessriel x reader#poly!acotar x reader#nesta x you#nesta x y/n
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The Three Exes of Eddie Munson
Part Six
Series Masterlist
“Holy shit,” you gasped once the car peeled off, tires squealing and people yelling after it.
“Yeah, holy shit,” Steve agreed as he maneuvered the car away from the mob, tires squealing behind you.
“How’d you know where to find me? And whose car is this?”
“It’s a rental and you always grocery shop on Saturday mornings,” Steve shrugged like he didn’t just play superhero and rescued you like a damsel in distress.
He turned down the road leading to his house. That was one of the best and worst things about small towns, how close everything was.
Steve’s home was one of the largest in Hawkins. He made enough money now that he could move anywhere in the country he wanted to but he refused, saying he didn’t want to leave his friends behind.
Steve parked the car in his driveway, taking a deep breath before looking over at you. You climbed out, not bothering to wait for him as you walked towards his house. You didn’t want to risk anyone seeing you.
“Wait,” Steve called from behind you.
“What?…” you asked, worried about what his look meant.
“Before you go inside I need to tell you something,” Steve said, chewing on his bottom lip.
The door opened from behind you, you heard Steve’s wreath that you bought him as a house warming present jingle against the door.
“Hey,” a voice said softly from behind you and you whirled around, making eye contact with no other than Eddie.
Your heart dropped to your stomach at the sight of him standing on your best friends doorstep.
He had both hands in his pockets of his leather jacket, a much more expensive version on the one he wore when you were younger.
“What the hell are you doing here?” You spat out.
He winced, swaying on his feet a bit.
“I mean I just…I don’t know,” he admitted, shaking his head.
I don’t know wasn’t a good enough answer for what he had done to you. Eddie Munson couldn’t leave it at just breaking your heart, he had to ruin your life too.
A small part of you, although upset, melted a bit when you saw him. One look at him set you on fire with anger but also made you want to kiss him.
“We should get you both inside,” Steve said, guiding you towards the door that Eddie had disappeared into and interrupting your thoughts.
You stomped inside the house, almost childish but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to be under the same roof as him.
You heard Steve let out a little laugh at your actions that he tried to keep quiet.
“Every one is going to need to be adults while we figure out what to do,” Steve warned both of you with a strict look that reminded you of his babysitting days.
Eddie stood at the kitchen counter, eyes bouncing around your face like he wasn’t sure where to focus.
“Take a picture it’ll last longer,” you snapped.
“I think that’s what got us into this situation in the first place,” Eddie said sarcastically.
Eddie looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair, shinier than it used to be, looked like he had run his hands in it a million times over.
Steve rubbed the bridge of his nose, a sure sign that he was getting frustrated.
The phone started to ring in the living room and Steve started to go get it.
“I think that’s my manager. I told her I’d be here,” Eddie said as he walked out of the room to answer the phone.
“You okay?” Steve asked as he crossed the room to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.
It wasn’t abnormal for you two to hug. So why did this feel so different?
You nodded once, falling into his embrace. It felt so good to have someone hold you.
“Look at me,” Steve said and you obeyed, staring up at his worried eyes. “I’m gonna make sure everything is okay.”
You didn’t say anything in response, just continued to stare up at your blushing best friend as you felt the warmth of his arms. Had he always smelt this good?
You didn’t even register Eddie hanging up the phone in the other room when it wasn’t his manager who called, but Robin. The noise of Eddie’s boots hitting the floor and the sound of his chains jingling was drowned out by the sound of Steve’s heart beat.
“What the hell is going on in here?”
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson au#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x you#eddie stranger things#eddie munson series#eddie munson angst#rockstar!eddie x reader#rockstar!eddie munson x reader
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i saw your request for asks so i thought i’d try, if anything makes you uncomfortable/is weird to write then change it ofc and thank you if you do write it :)
okay so i really love pissed off sam and was thinking about this: reader and sam are together but are keeping it a secret bc sam wants to (reader isn’t extremely happy about it but okay with it), reader goes with tara to this party from the beginning of scream vi and when sam comes to get both tara and reader back home, she sees someone flirting with reader but can’t do anything about it which pisses her off, reader shuts the flirting down but sam is still pissed, once they are alone reader tries to talk to sam and calm her down with a hug and sam lets her but then kisses reader and turns it into sex and leaves a pretty obvious hickey and tells reader not to cover it up
Marks (nsfw)
Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Summary: you’re Sam’s secret, it’s not your choice but you’ll deal. until Sam realizes being her secret means there’s nothing holding others back from chasing you.
Warnings: (18+) MDNI smut, breath play.
notes: i love jealous Sam. also let’s act like they aren’t attacked by ghostface after the party for the sake of this imagine. this might be kind of mid cause i’m not that used to writing smut yet but i hope you still enjoyed it:)
(not proofread)
(word count: 3433)
this was never part of the plan. being in a secret relationship was never really your choice. you felt like her dirty secret but you loved her so you couldn’t find it in you to say no. she had to told you she didn’t want others to know the second things began getting serious. you understood why, her ex boyfriend turned out to be a psychotic freak who wanted to kill her and her sister because she was the daughter of a famous serial killer.
you were Chads friend in high school, he was on the football team and you were a cheerleader so it was easy to be mixed in with the same people. he was nice in your opinion, you found it funny that his name was literally Chad but he was always nice. thus started the friendship between you two and you slowly became part of their friend circle, you were a year older than them but even after you graduated you stuck around. you wanted to take a gap year between high school and college to figure out what you wanted to do for the rest of your life.
that meant you were there when the ghostface situation happened. that when you met Sam, you instantly thought she was beautiful. you’d heard stories about her from Chad and Tara but never in depth, it was a sensitive topic for the young Carpenter girl.
you had even been there when they were all attacked. you didn’t want to go to the party at first, it felt insensitive but Chad and Mindy had told you it’s what Wes would’ve wanted to you decided why not.
you regretted that pretty quickly.
you’d been stabbed twice, once in the stomach and the other in the back when you had been trying to attack Amber. it was shortly after that you and Sam began getting closer. she had thanked you for staying and not running when you had the chance.
unlike Chad and Mindy, she didn’t see you as her little sisters friend, she hadn’t seen you grow up and she had just you so she didn’t feel guilty to think you were rather attractive. being in cheer since you were a kid helped your body become more toned and Sam found no shame in checking you out whenever you were alone. she knew you had a crush on her, you weren’t exactly subtle, not that you even wanted to be. you were never the type to hide your feelings. it was on a random Friday night that those feelings really came to light, you had called her to come over so you could tell her how you really felt. one thing led to another and you hooked up. that continued up until you moved to New York when she finally asked you to be her girlfriend.
you always thought she wanted to keep it a secret for various reasons. one, you were Tara’s friend and four years younger than her. secondly, she wasn’t ready to have an open relationship after the shitty one she had before. so you accepted what you got and moved on.
once you all moved to New York you decided to go to college like the other three teens. at first you were going to form with a girl who was in a band meaning she would be up late practicing or writing music which was horrid. Tara had been the one to offer you to move in, you immediately turned to Sam but she quickly said it was a good idea. you’d be helping with the rent so she used that as her excuse. they only had three rooms and Quinn already lived with them so you slept in the living room (of course you’d sneak into Sam’s room once everyone was asleep and sneak back out in the morning) until you got enough money to get your own apartment. Mindy had said she’d be willing to move in with you during her sophomore year and you figured a couple more months of an uncomfortable couch couldn’t hurt. besides, sometimes Tara would offer her room as well.
loud music blasted around the house as young adults were talking to one another in small groups. you were talking to a girl who was getting a little too flirty in your opinion. you didn’t want to be there, you wanted to be with Sam out on a dinner date or at the movies - really anything as long as it was with her and you were out of her small room. but she had therapy so when Tara invited you to go out you didn’t have any excuse to say no.
you were dressed in one of your old cheer uniforms. it was basic but you didn’t care much for the party and you weren’t going to go out to buy a costume.
you listened to the brunette beside you talk about her high school years. truly you weren’t actively listening but you didn’t want to be rude by shutting her out or walking away. the brunette was cute, sure, but she wasn’t Sam Carpenter and you weren’t interested. she didn’t seem to be taking the hint though.
Mindy and Anika stood from their spot on the couch as they saw Tara about to walk away with some frat guy up to his room. you tried to move away from the brunette but she was still talking and you figured Mindy would be getting Chad which meant they did not need your help. you tried to seem like you were listening up until Chad approached you guys and aimed for the stairs where Tara was about to leave with the guy she met.
“hey partner” you heard Chad say. “Tara’s good down here”
you saw the douche glance at Tara and take a step down, “i’m sorry what? i didn’t catch that”
Chad chuckled, “uh, yeah. you did”
“Chad” Tara said quickly and walked down the steps until she’s up close to him, “it’s fine. i want to”
the dark haired boy mimicked Tara, “see Chad? she wants to” he said and turned grabbing Tara’s arm roughly to drag her up the stairs “come on”
“get your fucking hands off her” Chad was quick to grab the asshole and drop him down the steps making him bump into a stranger.
you quickly pulled away from the girl and walked up to Mindy as Chad and whatever his name is, began to shove each other roughly.
suddenly your girlfriend appears making them both stop to look at her. “guys. i’m sorry to interrupt i’m just gonna tase you in the balls real quick” you gasped in both surprise and awe. “don’t ever lay hands on my sister”
god she was hot.
you were finally standing near them and heard the asshole on the floor curse at Sam making you roll your eyes. what wasn’t so amusing though was Taras voice earning everyone’s attention, “Sam. are you fucking kidding me? you’re stalking me now” the younger Carpenter said and stormed off.
you sighed and watched your girlfriend look at her sister worriedly. you were so busy trying to make sure Sam was okay you didn’t realize the girl that had been latched into you the this whole time walk up to you with a flirt smile. shit.
“so,” she said flipping her hair to one side, “can i maybe get your number?” she asked with a smile that probably would’ve worked on her if she wasn’t completely enamored with someone already.
you cleared your throat now noticing Mindy and Anika looking at you in slight confusion. you just hadn’t realized Sam was watching the whole interaction as well. “im sorry,” you said with an apologetic smile, “if i gave you the wrong signals but im not looking for anything right now”
the brunette didn’t seem offended or she didn’t show it and simply smiled before taking her leave. you felt a sense of relief wash over you, you weren’t sure what you would’ve done if she didn’t take your rejection so lightly.
your thoughts were cut off by a voice, “holy shit. it’s that psycho girl” a random guy said making you glance at Sam, there were people with their phones out recording everything causing the girl to shake her head and walk away. you, Mindy and Anika immediately followed.
you weren’t sure if Sam saw someone ask for your number so you made yourself invisible throughout the whole walk to the apartment. you didn’t say anything when Tara blew up on her and you tried to hold yourself back when some bitch threw their drink on Sam.
when you guys got back to the apartment the door of Sams rooms slammed shut with the girl on the other side. you sighed softly as Quinn got out of her room with a questioning look but as soon as she saw everyone’s face she knew what had happened. you saw Tara quickly follow her sisters actions minus the door slamming.
you took your time before going to Sam’s room, waiting until everyone was doing their own thing and finally opening the door and closing it behind you. there the raven haired girl was, an obvious pissed off look on her face as she sat on her bed looking into space. you sighed softly and approached her.
“im sorry” you said although your not sure why. you couldn’t help that another person was flirting with you, although you were sorry that people were shitty and there was nothing you could do about it.
Sam doesn’t respond making you frown, you knew this was all extremely upsetting. you couldn’t imagine being in her position, already having to suffer something so traumatic and then having to hear people say that it was all her fault and she was the real murderer. instead of saying anything else you sit on the bed beside your girlfriend and wrap your arms around her. she stiffens at first but slowly relaxes into your touch, her own arms wrapping around your waist.
“i love you” the words leave your lips like a breath of fresh air.
“i love you too” Sam responded in a slight murmur, her lips pressed against your neck. a smile appeared on your lips at the feeling. you expected the moment to be short and sweet but instead you began to feel her press open mouthed kisses from her shoulder up to her neck.
a breathy whimper escape you, “Sam” you said and tangled your hands in her hair, “everyone’s outside. they might hear” you said in a hushed tone and glanced at the closed door.
but the older girls lips didn’t leave your skin and slowly her kisses began to grow sloppier and rougher, her lips nipping and sucking at your skin which your sure will leave a mark.
“fuck Sam. i’m serious, we said no hickeys” you said trying to push the girl off of you.
“why? are you trying to hide the fact that your mine?” she said in a low tone. you could tell she was still pissed.
you rolled your eyes, “seriously? your the one who wants to keep us a secret”
Sam raised her head from your neck, “maybe it’s time we change that” she said and brought her lips down onto yours in a rough kiss. her action was swift and quick not giving you the chance to even think about her words.
her hands roamed your body until they were on your thighs where she began to squeeze roughly. the feeling of her lips alone were enough to turn you on. her lips were rough and hungry, her tongue invading your mouth without giving you a chance to return the intensity of it.
you wanted more, needed to feel her hands on you in more ways than just one so you moved your body to straddle her but she quickly stopped you. “no” she said and pulled away completely. “stand up” she demanded.
you were slightly confused at first but the look on her face made you hold back any questions as you followed her orders. soon you felt her warm body pressed against your back. you understood pretty quickly why she wanted you like this as you stared at your own reflection. there was a body length mirror in front of you.
“you look so pretty in this” she whispered softly into your shoulder as she pressed small kisses on it. even though her words were sweet you knew that wouldn’t last long.
her hands moved up your body and under your shirt to cup your breasts, she squeezed them roughly making your legs press together. you just needed her to fuck you. it seemed as if she had read your mind as her right hand left your shirt and moved down your body until she reached your skirt. her hand maneuvered under your skirt making you shiver. she grabbed your panties and roughly pulled them down your legs surely leaving a mark on your thighs by the roughness of her touch.
“why are you so wet baby?” she whispered as she began to rub your clit with two fingers. a soft moan left your lips making you bite your lip quickly after, you didn’t want anyone else in the apartment to know what you were doing. “did that bitch turn you on? huh?” she asked aggressively and both her hand on your chest as well as the one rubbing you matched her tone.
you shook your head to the best of your ability, “no, no baby.” Sam chuckled darkly.
“who makes you this wet?”
“you. always you” that seemed to please her and she slowly entered you with two fingers instantly making you moan louder than you should have. you right hand slapped against your mouth to contain your moans but that seemed to piss Sam off even more.
she slapped your arm making it fall beside you again. her pace was rough and fast and your knees were beginning to give in but you tried your best to stand upright. the pleasure was so intense your eyes were closed but every so often you would blink them open and see your girlfriend leaving hickeys on your neck with one hand in your shirt twisting your nipples and the other up your skirt. it only made you wetter and the allude sounds echoing throughout the room was proof of that.
“baby fuck” you whimpered and tangled your hand in the girls hair as you pressed her into your neck, this felt too good for her to stop.
“you like that?” she whispered and added another finger. you nodded quickly.
“yeah”
“cause your all mine baby. only i can make you feel this way. not that bitch at the party. me” you frantically nodded your head at every word that left her lips.
“only yours baby. only you make me feel this good” your answer pleased her even more as she began to curl her fingers inside of you making you see stars. the feeling was too intense and you weren’t sure how much longer you could last.
“such a pretty little slut” she whispered and softly bit your shoulder. tears were beginning to form in your eyes by the intensity of it and by how hard you were trying to keep yourself standing.
“please don’t stop” you whimpered desperately making Sam chuckle. her hand left your shirt and trailed your chest until she reached your neck. an excitement began to build in your chest at the anticipation of what was coming next. her hand squeezed your neck making you open your eyes.
your cheeks were flushed, your forehead glistening with sweat and the veins on Sams hand were beginning to show as she choked you.
“that’s it. open your eyes, watch how pathetic you look when i fuck you” your face was hot from both the humiliating words leaving your girlfriends lips as well as the sensation of your oxygen being controlled. she had complete and utter control of you then and there, her hand only letting a small amount of oxygen inside of your lungs every couple of seconds before she squeezed even more. you were beginning to grow lightheaded. you wouldn’t be surprised if she left a hand print on your neck from the aggressiveness.
it was too much for you. “i’m gonna cum” you choked out to the best of your ability.
Sam shook her head, “tell me who owns you”
you moaned and threw you head back onto her shoulder as her thumb began to circle your clit slowly. she was making this incredibly hard. you weren’t sure if you could stop yourself from letting go.
“you. you own me. i’m yours and only yours” you quickly said a lot clearer than you had before considering she’d loosen her grip.
Sam had a pleased smile on her lips at your response, “come for me baby” she finally said making your body unravel at once. your hand slapped against Sams arm and you squeezed tightly as the other pulled at her hair. your legs began to shake and Sam tried to hold you up with her body.
her name was thrown out into the room breathily and your eyes squeezed shut. her fingers continued to pump inside you slowly as she helped you come down from your high.
her hand competent left your neck and she wrapped it around your waist to keep you standing. once you felt like you had riches the ground again you began to whimper as Sams fingers were still inside of you.
“sensitive” you whispered and she quickly pulled out of you. slowly she helped you walk backwards until you reached the bed. she sat down and shortly after she pulled your front toward her and down onto her lap.
you were blissed out as you laid your head on her shoulder.
“i love you beautiful” she said gently and rubbed small circles on your back. even with the state you were in, a small smile formed on your lips at her words. she was always so sweet to you.
“i love you too” you murdered.
“are you okay? did i hurt you?” she asked pushing your body softly so you’d look at her and you pushed your head up so you were making eyes contact with her.
“im okay. i promise” you guys stayed like that for a little while, just basking in each others presence.
until you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing up the elephant in the room. “you reek like Cherry coke” you admitted with a soft smile.
Sam laughed as you pulled away to look at her once more, “you don’t like it?” she raised a brow teasingly.
“absolutely not” you laughed. “come on. shower. i don’t want you smelling like coke when we’re sleeping”
she chuckled softly and patted your thigh to signal you to stand. you did so with slightly shaky legs but your girlfriend was quick to place her hands on your waist to level you.
once you told her you’d be okay she pulled away and went to her dresser to get clothes.
you fixed your appearance a bit as well, you’d make the offer to shower with her but you’re sure everyone else was still in the apartment and you needed to leave Sams room before it got suspicious.
you turned your body to look in the mirror, your intention was to fix your hair and makeup but instead your eyes were focused on the huge mark on your neck.
“Sam, what the fuck” you whisper yelled and flipped your hair to the side of your neck as you turned toward her. she looked at you questioningly until she realized what you meant. she smiled.
“what? it’s about time people know your mine” she shrugged as if it’s no big deal.
“that’s great babe. really. but you didn’t have to give me five fucking hickeys the size of my neck in the progress!” you exclaimed.
Sam chuckled with a slight shrug. “they’re cute” she said simply and walked into her bathroom.
she’d be the death of you. you’re sure of it.
turns out all you needed was a little jealousy for her to tell everyone about you. as soon you walked out everyone noticed the hickeys on your neck and when they asked what the hell happened, Sam simply pecked your lips and sat on the couch as if it were no big deal.
#sam carpenter#sam carpenter x reader#scream#lesbian#scream series#scream vi#scream x reader#sam carpenter smut#sam carpenter imagines#sam carpenter x fem reader#tara carpenter#mindy meeks martin
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last to know | ch. 2: as always, even now
pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader
summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.
general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst, hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!
warnings: mentions of weight loss and a hospital, jeongguk has a panic attack (semi-detailed), problematic parent-child dynamics. let me know if i miss anything and please be kind!
word count: 5.3k
author's note: *peeks into the void* why hello there! let's pretend i didn't disappear off the face of the earth. earlier this year i went to see The Rose live for their dawn to dusk tour and it was so much fun! there's just a lot of things that have happened and continue to do so; please accept my sincerest apologies for being inconsistent! BUT. know that i haven't forgotten about this story. heh.
also a few more things:
♡ to put things into perspective: jeongguk, OC/reader, and woosung are all the same age; that also means they're as old as seokjin and yoongi in this fic. all the other members maintain their age. honorifics may or may not appear at times. if that bothers you, well, can't please everybody!
♡ this fic isn't beta'd nor proofread by anyone. we go rogue, always.
tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!
fic masterlist
Woosung plants a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek and giggles.
Looking at him, you ask, “What was that for?”
“Do I need a reason?” Woosung teases as he chews on his jjajangmyeon. You chuckle at his candidness and reach out to wipe the sauce that landed on the corner of his lip. The both of you resorted to sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes, using one of them as a makeshift table to place the food.
“I’m really happy you got to come today,” you muse, enjoying Woosung’s calming presence as he delicately places a piece of chicken karaage on your noodle bowl before setting his own down. You haven’t seen him for a few days because he needed to get some new music done in preparation for his application to a recording agency as a performer and a producer. You were more than happy to support him in any way you could, including giving him his space to figure things out. It was also who Woosung was— a quiet soul who liked working in solitude.
You and Woosung are so much alike.
“Why? Did you think I’d forget?” Woosung teases, a smirk playing on his lips.
“No, I just thought… maybe you needed more time to prepare for your application. That’s important.”
Woosung gently shakes his head, ready to disagree— “Nothing will ever be as important to me as you.”
A slight pink dusted your cheeks. You didn’t expect him to be this cheesy so early in the morning so you smile and cast your eyes back down to your meal.
“... I do have news for you, babe.” Woosung starts. He turns his body to face you. Giving your hundred percent attention, you cut the noodles with your teeth and place the bowl down. Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you hum at his statement, “What is it?”
Woosung smiles and looks at you lovingly. You feel a bit self-conscious every time he stares at you so intensely and like clockwork, you feel your cheeks heat up.
“I got the job, sweetheart.”
Hearing the news leave his lips leaves you surprised— your hands fly to your mouth and your eyes start to water. “R-really?” Woosung nods and chuckles through his own teary eyes, you throw yourself at him to give him a tight hug. “Woosung, oh my god— this is— “ you hold him by the shoulders, explore every inch of his face, elation in both of your hearts— “this is great, oh gosh I am so happy for you,” you hug him again.
You feel Woosung’s body relax instantly in your hold; it has been a journey, walking with Woosung through his own painful moments struggling with his art and passion. Two years ago, he came to Seoul desperately needing a break from life and music after many unsuccessful attempts to make it into the music industry back home in the United States. Although he and his bandmates have put out several songs in the past, they never really gained as much traction with an audience as they had hoped. Going back home to his roots in South Korea also meant leaving his bandmates behind— they have been nothing but supportive of him and his time as they also needed to re-assess their own lives and figure out what they truly wanted.
Two years ago, Woosung also met you. Both your lives changed ever since.
“Thank you for all your support, ____… you know I wouldn’t have been able to get through all this if it weren’t for you.” Woosung whispers, tightening his hold on your waist. You feel this, you feel everything when it comes to him— so you wrap your arms tighter around him, too. “This is all you, babe. This is all your hard work.”
You both stay that way for a while. Unspoken words are left hanging, as well. You both know well what might become of all this as you always try to communicate. You believe it is what has sustained your relationship for so long.
Both of you know that Woosung will always belong to music— it’s his dream and the reason why he took so many risks along the way. It was only a matter of when. The possibilities have always been there— should there be a moment where Woosung would return to his career, to his band, to becoming a global star. The fears that come along with those possibilities were also ever-present: what you and Woosung’s future would look like.
All of these thoughts come rushing to the both of you, but neither of you said anything.
For now, the both of you are happy. And that is enough.
When you parted from each other, you pushed away some of the hair that fell over Woosung’s eyes. “When do you start?”
Woosung takes a deep breath, “As soon as the higher-ups get settled in. I’ve been told they’ve recently landed in Seoul so it shouldn’t be too long now. I’ll be meeting with the owners and one of them is the lead producer. I heard he was a genius, but also a bit scary. They’ve also given me a signing bonus and a potential collaboration with him… that was new… he said they liked my work so much…”
“Wow, that… that sounds so exciting, baby. How are you feeling about all of this?”
“I’m nervous, for the most part,” Woosung murmurs, readjusting the collar of his shirt. It’s been a while since I talked to someone else about music professionally and… this company— I’ve heard so many wonderful things about it. For one, it was built by musicians, too. So I’m hoping they’re not just doing all of it for the business.”
You smile warmly at Woosung and hold his hands. “You’re going to do great, you know that, right?”
Woosung draws in a breath and nods before meeting your eyes.
That night, Woosung couldn’t sleep. He watches over you as you dream and when a strand of your hair falls on your face after moving a bit, he tucks it behind your ear. His fingers lightly dance while grazing the side of your face. Woosung sighs as a feeling of anxiety starts to creep into his heart. He loves change, but he cannot help but feel somewhat scared about it anyway. He gets so lost in his thoughts about you that he doesn’t notice you wake up.
“Baby, hey… you’re still awake.”
Your voice brings Woosung back to the present. Seeing your sleepy eyes under the sliver of moonlight that passes through your window makes his heart do a mini somersault— it always does.
“Hmm… I couldn’t sleep,” Woosung says. You scoot closer to him, his arm going under your shoulders to support your body in an embrace.
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” you whisper, eyes closed, inhaling his scent— him.
“Just… things. I’m not sure how to articulate them yet…”
You hum, “Then I’ll just stay like this with you to keep you warm… warmth helps you sleep, right?”
Woosung nods, bringing your body closer to his. “Hm… especially your warmth.” Seconds later, he feels you breathe deeper, letting him know that you’re about to let yourself succumb to sleep once more. “I love you.”
When no response came from you, Woosung closed his eyes. Then suddenly, in the stillness of the night, he feels your hand squeeze his ever so lightly.
“I love you, too.”
“Hyung, I think that’s the salt—” Jimin starts.
Seokjin snorts, stopping with the shaker in his hand mid-air, “What do you mean, Jimin-ah, I think I know the difference between salt and sugar.” He was about to potentially put salt on the croffle in front of him, leaving Jimin feeling both very nervous and distressed.
“Last time, I remember you put the sugar in a different container because a customer accidentally broke the original shaker. The color of the cap was blue, not red. This—” he pointed at the shaker Seokjin was holding, “— is obviously not blue.”
“Yah, that happened last week, but I already switched them out two days ago—” Seokjin tries to argue.
They didn’t notice Woosung enter the cafe until he spoke, “Why don’t you just taste it?”
“Oh hey, Woosung-hyung,” Jimin greets.
“Hey, Jimin. Good to see you,” Woosung replies as Jimin nods, his eyes turning into crescents as soon as he smiles.
Seokjin scoffs once more before greeting Woosung, but he relents and tastes whatever is inside the shaker. When he makes a funny face, Jimin and Woosung chuckle.
“Told ya, hyung. Tell us I saved your life.”
“I can’t believe this is salt, I knew I already switched it out—”
With possible disaster averted, Jimin doesn’t listen to Seokjin’s monologue anymore, “You’re here early today, hyung. Would you like to order the usual?”
“Actually, I am here to buy a mango parfait… ____’s fridge is crazy cold and the frozen mangoes are, well, too frozen. I might actually break the blender. I also forgot to make her usual overnight oats. We had to move a lot of things very quickly yesterday so she could have a bed to sleep on.”
“I got you, hyung. We just finished making a fresh batch of parfaits. Do you want one, too?” Jimin asks.
“Are there other flavors?”
“Blueberry and strawberry,” Seokjin adds.
“I’ll take one blueberry, then. Thanks.” Woosung gets ready to pay, but Seokjin waves him away. “It’s on the house.”
“You always give us free stuff, Seokjin—” Woosung tries to argue, but Seokjin shakes his head immediately.
“Taking care of my sister is more than enough, Woosung-ah.”
Woosung gives Seokjin a tight smile and nods. Seokjin then asks, albeit softer, “How is she doing lately?”
“She’s doing better,” Woosung reassures. “She has been painting more recently; not just because of her job at the university, but also at home. We’re going to set up her studio today so it should be fun.”
“That’s good to hear, right hyung?” Jimin turns to Seokjin, who nods. Jimin hands Woosung a paper bag with the parfaits. “I put some new desserts we’re experimenting with. Please give them a try.”
Woosung peeks at the paper bag and sees croissants and greenish muffins, presumably matcha-flavored. “Oh wow, thank you Jimin… I won’t take up too much of your time, guys. ____ is still sleeping and I need to clean up the mango disaster I left on her kitchen counter before she wakes up.”
Seokjin chuckles, “You really came all the way here for parfaits when you could have bought these anywhere near ____’s apartment.”
“Ah, but nothing beats your parfaits, Seokjin. A wise man once told me that,” Woosung smiles. He and Seokjin instantly formed a bond the moment they met two years ago, much to your relief. You’ve always been nervous to tell your brother anything remotely new about your love life— and you understand where he is coming from.
“Well whoever that wise man is must be pretty smart,” Seokjin replies. His eyes soften right afterward. “Go. Let’s have a drink sometime, yeah?”
“Sure thing,” Woosung waves goodbye to Seokjin and Jimin.
Jeongguk walks the hallway of the recording studio, still groggy from sleep. Hands in his pockets, he stood outside Yoongi’s door, staring at his peculiar mat: a cat with its middle finger raised, the words ‘fuck off’ glaring at him. Figures, he thought. A doormat won’t stop him from ringing Yoongi’s doorbell, though.
“Who is it?” he hears Yoongi call out.
“It’s your favorite person in the whole wide world,” Jeongguk says, sarcasm lacing his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose; a habit he developed in college whenever he felt the exhaustion seep out of him. He hears scuffling from the other side of the door until the sound of the door’s automatic lock rings. Jeongguk sees Yoongi clad in a plaid shirt, ripped jeans, and a gray beanie— his signature style.
“Dumbass,” Yoongi mutters under his breath before turning his back to return to his equipment. “Good morning to you too,” Jeongguk teases as he closes the door behind him.
“How are you already set up? It’s barely a day since we arrived!”
Yoongi chooses not to respond.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Jeongguk asks in disbelief. “Please tell me you at least went home to get your shit sorted? Or maybe sleep like normal human beings do?”
“I did… for a brief moment, maybe?” Yoongi starts.
Jeongguk shakes his head, “You have to stop spreading yourself thin, Yoongi. It’ll be the death of you.”
Yoongi fiddles with a few knobs on the synthesizer before muttering, “That doesn’t seem so bad— spreading myself too thin, that is.”
Jeongguk throws his hands up in surrender and rolls his eyes.
“Have I succeeded in frustrating you to hell and back, yet?” Yoongi smirks while continuing to flit his eyes through the numerous screens in front of him.
Jeongguk was about to say something but then the door alarm clicked. Kim Namjoon’s head peeks out from behind the door.
“I came to say my welcome remarks,” Namjoon says as he lets himself in. Jeongguk’s mouth falls open because he couldn’t believe Namjoon could just easily waltz in without any resistance. What’s even more astounding was that he knew Yoongi’s passcode— while he, on the other hand, had to ring the fucking doorbell.
“Oh, great. So your boyfriend knows your passcode and I don’t?” Jeongguk asks.
“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Yoongi states, matter-of-factly. Jeongguk couldn’t help but glance at Namjoon’s way, who seemed unfazed.
“Right, and I’m Neil Armstrong,” Jeongguk plops down on the couch.
“You’re the CEO, Jeongguk, of course, you should know the passcode… right, Yoongi?” says Namjoon, ever the oblivious one.
Yoongi continues to do work on his computer, his fingers deftly flying across his keyboard, “Don’t encourage him, Namjoon.”
Namjoon looks back at Jeongguk who has now taken an interest in the plant beside the couch. When they met each other’s eyes, Namjoon just shrugged, his dimples showing.
“How was your flight, you guys? I hope everything was easy peasy.”
“Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” Jeongguk responds. “Not sure about Yoongi here though. He looked like he was about to puke.”
“Shut up,” Yoongi retaliates.
“I can’t imagine the both of you tolerating each other while in another country. It’s a miracle this production company is still standing upright,” Namjoon says chuckling.
Namjoon met Jeongguk first in university while they studied in New York. Although Jeongguk was a business student and Namjoon double majored in music theory and composition, they ran into each other at a frat party-— with Jeongguk being drunk off his ass. He was about to fall into the pool full of piss (which the other frat members thought was funny) when Namjoon saved him in the nick of time.
Apart from Yoongi, Namjoon also served as Jeongguk’s confidant, especially after things went south between you and Jeongguk. When the dust settled and Jeongguk was sober enough to realize the gravity of his mistakes, Namjoon helped Yoongi pick up the pieces of Jeongguk’s brokenness. As with time passing by, Namjoon and Yoongi started to develop into something more, too. Much to Jeongguk’s delight and envy.
However, neither Yoongi nor Namjoon has admitted their feelings to the other. And truth be told, Jeongguk is sick of them dancing around each other.
But he also knows it’s none of his business.
“Hey, Jeongguk, is that family dinner of yours still happening tonight?” Yoongi decides to ask. Also probably to change the subject.
Jeongguk lets out a deep sigh. “Yes, it is.”
“Ouch. Will you be alright?” Namjoon asks out of genuine concern.
“I don’t really have a choice.”
“You always have a choice, Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi inserts. “You just need to work on making the right ones.”
Jeongguk slacks his jaw and runs his tongue across his lip ring. He doesn’t really have an answer to that.
Because once again, Yoongi was right. Not just about the damn family dinner; Jeongguk also knows his best friend’s words run deeper and imply a whole lot more than just feeling forced to sit down with his parents over steak and champagne.
“See you on the other side, then,” Namjoon says as he pats Jeongguk on the shoulder before leaving the room.
Jeongguk mulled over bringing flowers to the family dinner but decided against it.
He knows that the house would be filled with them, anyway. And his efforts won’t matter, either.
As he got out of his car, a chauffeur was already by his side ready to take his keys for him. When the car drove off, Jeongguk took a moment to look at the house he hadn’t lived in for years. It feels odd to come home; it feels even odder to feel numb about all of it.
It took Jeongguk a few seconds to ring the doorbell; for god’s sake, it was his house too, he thought. Ringing the doorbell meant he was a stranger— which he felt was appropriate.
He was greeted by a new housekeeper. He gave her a nod before stepping inside. Almost instantly, his mother appeared at the top of the staircase. They look at one another for a moment, before his mother breaks the silence.
“You finally decide to show yourself.”
Jeongguk doesn’t move. Doesn’t respond, either. He was prepared for a stare-off match with his mother, but that was until his father showed up from the kitchen. With a dish towel in hand, Jeongguk’s father smiled at him as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.
“It’s so good to see you, son.”
Jeongguk, once more, doesn’t have it in him to respond.
At the dinner table, the silence was so loud, that Jeongguk thought it could break glass.
“Did you settle in fine, Jeongguk?” his father asks.
“Yes, father, I did.”
“You should have chosen a place that was nearer to us, Jeongguk,” his mother chides.
“Honey…” Jeongguk’s father tries to put out a fire that is about to ignite. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was so tired from the flight and emotionally, that he felt a need to retaliate.
Because why not? Whether he speaks up or not wasn’t really up to him. Between him and his mother, he has nothing to lose.
“I don’t know, mother, I chose that place because I wanted to get away from here as much as possible.” Jeongguk remarks. He knows he hit a nerve because his mother downed her champagne rather than respond.
“How is the company going, son? Everything doing alright?” his father asks, trying to mitigate a conflict that neither of them could recover from.
“I guess. Yoongi and I haven’t managed to burn anything so that’s nice,” Jeongguk eats a spoonful of mashed potato. He knows he really needs to shut up and regulate his emotions, but he just can’t help but be sarcastic.
Once more, the silence won. However, Jeongguk’s mother is the type to not back down.
“You should think about getting married soon, Jeongguk—” she starts. Jeongguk feels himself grow cold as if on instinct.
“—and this time, we want you to marry someone your level,” she finishes. Jeongguk felt his heart twisting so painfully that he didn’t notice how tight he held on to his cutlery.
Jeongguk swallows the once-repressed pain that used to consume him whole. He knows this is futile because he never dares to face his regrets square in the face. Instead, he allows the pain to make him angry. He allows his resentment to consume him in ways he doesn’t know how to handle and in a pained effort to avoid causing further damage, he remains quiet. Unresponsive. Cold. Withdrawn.
But his own mother is even more cold-hearted than he is. She is the one who made him like this.
It’s her fault.
“You need to marry a good woman who can keep up with your social status. Remember you’re not just anyone, Jeongguk. You’re a Jeon. And you have a legacy to uphold,” his mother condescends.
Tears start to sting Jeongguk’s eyes, but he doesn’t want to let his mother win. So he keeps still.
“I have a few prospects for you, dear. We should set dates for them, don’t you think so? I chose the most refined and educated—” Jeongguk hates how his mother knows how to push his buttons and hurt him.
He knows that his mother knows his ultimate weakness.
You.
And because his mother cannot contain her insecurities and prejudice, she projects it all on her son. But most especially, you— whether you were in the room or not.
Jeongguk’s mother continues her monologue. His father miserably fails to become the referee (he always does). Heat starts to rise Jeongguk’s neck and he swears he could hear his own blood pumping through his ears. What almost immediately follows is the high-pitched ringing that only he can hear.
Jeongguk starts to feel dizzy; like he’s about to lose control.
But instead of releasing, instead of crying, instead of getting angry— he does none of them.
He finds himself standing up, his hands dragging the plate full of food to the ground. With all his might, Jeongguk tries to breathe deeply.
“That’s enough, mom.” Jeongguk croaks. A tear escapes his eye. “Please.”
Jeongguk rarely addresses her as “mom”. But in times of vulnerability and helplessness, it’s the term he ends up using.
“As I expected… you are still weak, Jeongguk.” his mother states with absolutely no remorse.
Jeongguk feels like he is about to throw up. To save himself, he drags his legs to leave the dining area. Housekeepers try to help him, but he brushes them aside. Security guards around the house up until the gate tried to support him, but Jeongguk just waved them all off.
He just needed to get away before his vision completely blurred. He needed to get out of this godforsaken house.
It was a miracle that Jeongguk got far away from the house as he had. But in doing so, he felt physically weaker and weaker. His mind isn’t done with him yet as thoughts of you start to resurface. His chest starts to tighten again. He feels cold and afraid and tired.
Jeongguk falls to his knees on the side of the road; he allows his body to go limp and fall to the ground.
He barely remembers what happened next.
When Jeongguk opens his eyes, bright, stale lights greet him.
He hears beeping, faint footsteps, a voice over an intercom.
He feels something brushing his leg so gently that it takes him a while before realizing that someone is standing over him, wiping the edge of his slacks.
Jeongguk squints his eyes to get a better look at the person touching his leg. When he tries to elevate his upper body, the person in front of him feels him moving.
Jeongguk couldn’t believe who he was seeing. His panic attack must still be happening because it was impossible.
It was you.
“Oh… hi,” you start. Jeongguk is at a loss for words so he continues to stare at you.
You immediately feel self-conscious so you start to wrangle the damp cloth you were holding.
“Are you okay? Hang on, I’ll call the nurse—”
You start to leave, but Jeongguk catches your wrist. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. You look at his hand on your wrist before Jeongguk lets go of it.
“W-what happened?”
“You’re at the hospital… um, I– I got a call from them saying you were here,” you say.
Jeongguk’s eyebrows met. He is still confused as to how or why the hospital would call you. As he looks at you, in the flesh, in front of him, the familiar ache in his chest threatens to overwhelm him again.
You look as beautiful as ever, even more so than the last time he saw you. The last time he did, you were crying to him. He did that to you. That was his fault.
“Are you hurt, anywhere, Jeongguk? I think I need to call your doctor, just give me a second—”
“No… please. I’m okay. I don’t feel any pain.” Except for my broken heart.
“Oh… okay.”
Jeongguk observes you, more particularly your hands. You still have that habit of fiddling with your fingers when you didn’t know what to do, he thinks.
“H-how did the hospital call you? You didn’t change your number?” Jeongguk is a hundred percent sure his choice of questions was dumb, but he doesn’t have any idea as to why you’re here.
“The hospital told me I was your emergency contact… they uh– they only found your wallet on you and found this,” you explain as you handed him his wallet. Inside was an old piece of paper with your emergency contact number and e-mail address.
“The e-mail address is now defunct, but my number is still the same because I had it reactivated when I came back here…”
When I came back here, Jeongguk repeated to himself.
Jeongguk wanted to ask you a million questions, but his throat feels dry and he is unable to speak.
“I um, I also called Yoongi. He should be here any minute,” you continue. When Jeongguk looks at you funny, you give him a small smile— the first one you’ve given him since he woke up. “We talk sometimes.”
There is a lot of information that Jeongguk needs to process but his head hurts a lot and he makes a mental note to interrogate his friend later.
You move to grab and open the plastic bag that is on the bedside table. You pull out a pair of black socks. Jeongguk sees you hesitate a bit before speaking again.
“I got these across the street… your socks got wet from the rain.”
“Oh.” Jeongguk feels really dumb.
“May I?” you tentatively ask. “Your feet will get cold if we don’t—and you have the IV on so you won’t be able to use your hands—”
“It’s okay…” Jeongguk’s response startles you. “Thank you.”
You nod and sit by his feet to put on the new socks. Jeongguk feels the tears again but he tries to hold them back as he feels your touch and your warm fingers graze his bare, cold skin. When you’re done putting them on him, you smile to yourself.
“Does that feel better?” you ask.
Jeongguk nods and hums. He took his time to look at you and to his mild surprise, you reciprocated. A sense of stillness seemed to occur like time stopped just so Jeongguk could fully take in the sight of you.
He hurriedly tries his best to memorize all your features—old and new. Your face is smaller, your cheekbones higher; both indicative of you losing a bit of weight since he saw you last. Your eyes are softer, but also more tired. You also grew out your hair.
To Jeongguk, you are still so beautiful.
And he missed you so much that his heart hurt again at the thought of losing you.
“How are y—” Jeongguk tries to ask, but the door to his hospital room slid open, revealing a disheveled Yoongi.
“Jeongguk, are you okay? What happened?”
Jeongguk notices you quickly moving aside to give Yoongi room.
“I’m fine, Yoongi. I guess I just passed out and—”
“You had another panic attack, Jeongguk. That’s the second time this week. Have you taken your medication?”
Yoongi’s string of questions had Jeongguk feeling anxious. He just had the unexpected chance of seeing you again but under the most dire circumstances. Surely, it wasn’t the time for you to hear about his mental health issues.
“Yoongi, can we—” Jeongguk tried to save face, but Yoongi was faster.
Yoongi turns to you and hugs you. “I’m sorry, ____, you must have been so confused.”
“No, not at all, I’m… I’m glad I could be of help,” you reassure. More so for Jeongguk because you know this must be very awkward for him.
A bit of awkwardness did happen because none of you spoke for a bit. Your phone ringing was the only saving grace.
“Hello? Oh, okay. I’ll be right out,” you answer the other person on the line. Hanging up, you say, “Um… I should get going.”
“Is someone picking you up?” Yoongi asks.
“Yes, Taehyung’s just a few minutes away,” you answer.
Yoongi nods and pulls you in for another hug. He whispers his thanks and you respond by hugging him tighter.
You also approach Jeongguk a little closer. “Take care of yourself, Jeongguk.” You see the pain in his eyes, but you refuse to acknowledge it to yourself, even if Jeongguk’s eyes were brimming with unshed tears and his nose was already pink.
Jeongguk doesn’t want you to go. But again, he has no choice but to let you.
“You too, ____.”
As soon as you close the door, Jeongguk allows his tears to fall.
As soon as you get into the car, Taehyung asks his questions.
“Why the hell did you just come out of a hospital?”
“Tae—”
“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? You’re the only one there? What happened?” You can feel the panic rising in Taehyung as he inspects you, but you just chuckle.
“Yah—you laugh?”
“I’m fine, Taehyung,” you tell him but he doesn’t look convinced. “I really am.”
“Then why were you in there?”
“I saw Jeongguk again, Tae,” you calmly respond.
Taehyung freezes. “You’re joking, right?”
“I’m not,” you answer.
“And you’re… are you okay?”
“I am.”
Taehyung knows you better than that but he gives you a pass because he could also tell you were tired and your short answers mean that you didn’t want to talk just yet.
“Do you want to talk about it over ice cream and fries?”
For a second, you felt tempted, but you just also wanted to go home. “Maybe some other time, Taehyung.”
Taehyung understands immediately and nods. “Should I take you to Woosung hyung or do I take you home?”
You do want to see Woosung because you know he is what you need, but you also don’t want to burden him with a bombshell of an event so you opt to be alone for the night. “Take me home, please.”
“Okay, ____,” Taehyung answers.
The rest of the car ride was a quiet one.
The short walk in the hallway leading to your home is a heavy one. As you punch in your passcode, you deeply sigh. You want nothing more than to collapse on the bed and ruminate on what just happened over the past few hours.
However, the moment you open the door, a wave of delicious scents welcomes you home. As you take off your shoes, you see a familiar pair. You smile to yourself as you place yours beside it.
You enter your home further and see Woosung with his back to you, working his way in the kitchen. As if on cue, Woosung turns around and walks toward you.
“Hey you,” you say with a smile.
“Hi,” Woosung responds, gathering you in his arms and pulling you into a tight embrace. “Did you have a good day, today?”
You feel yourself swallow once before nodding. Woosung, ever the sensitive boyfriend, holds you tighter.
You know you can’t hide from him. So you hold on to him tighter, too.
And you allow yourself to break down and cry.
Woosung feels your body shake and he runs his hand across your back to soothe you.
He may not know what’s going on right now, but he also knows you will talk to him when you’re ready. So he continues to embrace you; kissing the side of your head after a while.
Woosung whispers against your ear, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart.”
taglist: @whoa-jo @nays2112 @junecat18 @jk97bam @butterymin @smdnai
tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!
#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#jungkook x you#jungkook angst#jungkook scenarios#bts au#bts au fanfic#woosung x reader#jungkook divorce au#divorce au
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YOU LEFT BRUISES
JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH X GN!READER
SOMETHING ABOUT MORNINGS TOGETHER & LONG-STANDING COMPANIONSHIP ; 5.3k
.
Soap has something of a bad habit, something that used to be a blessing growing up but could now easily get him killed in his line of work: he is a heavy sleeper. Though, in the instance of trying to get out of a shared bed with your comrade and good friend that you slept with the night before, it comes in handy.
You were no longer at the point of sneaking off before Soap woke up, avoiding each other and acting like nothing happened. It had been months since this whole “situationship” thing started. It was formed more out of convenience than anything, you lied to yourself.
That didn’t stop you from doing your best not to interrupt Soap’s well-deserved slumber when you had to get up to pee first thing in the morning. You were showered, dressed, and brushing your teeth by the time Soap finally roused, slipping past you with a kiss to your cheek to use the toilet.
“You left bruises,” you said around your toothbrush.
“What?”
You spat and repeated, “You left bruises.”
“It’s called a hickey, love,” he said. “And it’s not exactly the first time.”
You put your toothbrush down and tugged your shorts down past your hips, lifting your shirt enough to show him what you were talking about.
“Holy shit, would you look at that,” Soap said.
He came to stand behind you in the bathroom mirror. He was almost in awe at how precisely his fingers fit atop the bruises on both of your hips.
“That didn’t sound like an apology.”
“I’d apologize, but if memory serves me right, you enjoyed getting these.”
He squeezed your hip and you elbowed him hard enough to hurt. He wheezed out in pain.
“Okay, okay, point taken,” he surrendered. “I’m sorry.”
“Wow, so sincere.”
“Do you want me to be sorry?” he asked. “Do you want me to never do it again? To never fuck you so hard you’re gripping the sheets and screaming my name?”
“I think restraint is more of a you issue,” you quipped back. “We both know you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”
“You like my hands.”
You hummed in agreement.
The moment turned soft and vulnerable in the quiet that followed. Soap’s arms had come to wrap around you and your own rested on them. He tucked his face into your shoulder.
“Ghost knows about us,” he confessed.
It didn’t surprise you. “You tell him?”
“No, but he figured it out.”
“Typical,” you huffed. “Do you think he’ll tell anyone?”
“…would it be so terrible if he did?”
“What?”
“I—I mean, would it be bad if people knew about us?”
“About us sleeping together?”
He laughed. “About us dating. Our relationship.”
You paused.
“We could tell anyone we wanted. We’re too valuable to get rid of for something as dumb as fraternization. It’d be fine.”
“We’re not dating, Johnny.”
“Oh?”
“And we’re not in a relationship,” you nearly scoffed.
“Tell me how we’re not. Explain to me how this isn’t a relationship.”
“It—it’s just not, John.”
You were panicking. Soap’s calmness at your accusations told you he saw that. He saw your last ditch efforts to pretend like this wasn’t what it was simply because it had never been put solidly into words. He didn’t let you go when you tried to walk out of his arms; he held you tighter and closer to him.
“The way I see it,” he said, “we get deployed or we go on a mission, then when we come back we spend all our free time together, we go on dates, we practically live together, we fuck all the time—“
“And what? Make love?” you tried mocking him.
“That, too,” he said, completely unfazed.
“When have we ever—?”
“After you came back from Congo? And I kissed you so hard I couldn’t breathe?” He looked at you through your bathroom mirror and you swear you’d never felt more like a book someone was flicking through, reading your every line with ease. “I fucked you slow and I made you look at me when I did it.”
“That wasn’t—“
“I said I loved you when I came inside you, and you remember what you said?”
“Soap.”
“You said I love you right back. So, you want to tell me how we aren’t dating? Cuz I’d love to hear it.”
Your panicked, commitment-fearing mind could not come up with even a semblance of a half-assed argument. Maybe your heart was finally winning out, tired of that relentless longing for someone you had convinced yourself wasn’t truly yours. Most likely, all of you was finally ready to call him yours.
“Alright, fine, you win,” you found yourself surrendering this time.
“And?”
“And I’m an idiot.”
“And?”
You glared at him through the mirror. “What?”
He turned you to face him, hands pressing gently to the bruises on your hips to back you into the counter. His arms were on either side of you but it was his gaze that had you caged there, unable—or unwilling—to move away.
“I love you,” he said, voice low at a frequency that shot through your ribcage and sent your heart beating wildly.
“I love you, too,” you said, somehow breathless.
He kissed you like he had that night you’d arrived home from your mission in Congo, bloodied and bruised and with a heavier conscience but alive. He’d been the one there to collect you, the one to take you home and clean you up and fill you to the brim with a sense of home and belonging and rightness.
Everything about Soap was right. It just was. He just was. He was right for you, and somewhere along the line, he’d decided you were right for him, too. With his hands loving every inch of you and your bodies so close you could be conjoined, you knew you were never going to argue with him about it again.
#call of duty#modern warfare#cod mw22#cod mwii#call of duty mw2#call of duty modern warfare#modern warfare ii#john mactavish#johnny mactavish#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#soap mactavish#john mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#call of duty x reader#modern warfare x reader#soap#cod soap#soap mactavish smut#john mactavish smut#johnny mactavish smut#john soap mactavish smut#johnny soap mactavish smut#call of duty smut#modern warfare smut
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UNCONVENTIONAL DATES
gn!reader | gojo, geto, yuta, nobara, itadori
“satoru gojo if you don’t get your ass to figuring out a puzzle i’ll kill you.”
your boyfriend stares at you from the velvet armchair, leg hanging over the side and cheek resting against his knuckles. “aw, baby, relax. we still have so much time.”
“i knew i shouldn’t have trusted you to pick our date.” you huff and turn away from him.
it wasn’t that satoru couldn’t think of a good date idea. he’s brought you to countless places across the city—a roof to stargaze (he crossed his heart and hoped to die if he got you in trouble for it), a hole in the wall cafe with some of the best desserts you’ve ever tried, a vintage store that smelled of old books and sweet coffee, and had a fluffy balinese cat who would lay on its back and stare at customers, waiting to be pet.
but this time, in an escape room where he’s barely grazed the row of evidently suspicious paintings on the wall, and answered “hm, that’s a good question,” or something like it to three of your guesses, you wonder if you should signal the employees through the security cameras to let you, and only you, out of here.
“y’aren’t having fun?” he teases.
you roll your eyes, hard, hoping he could sense it even with your back turned to him. “i have to figure out some curse by a guy named frederick, alone. what do you think?”
and then you hear him stand up, hear the sound of him tapping, shuffling?—you’re not really sure, something, before coming closer.
his steps are slow, purposely louder than usual so that you can hear him travel all the way until he’s right behind you. then satoru, in typical satoru fashion, holds the key to the vault you’ve been trying to get into for five minutes in front of your face, before leaning over your shoulder with a grin. “how about now?”
“top 10 people i’d break up with my boyfriend for?” geto reads out the title of the slideshow before you can.
“hear me out.”
“you know i’m your boyfriend, right?”
“no way, really?” you ask in faux shock before giving him a look. “be quiet and listen, i’m presenting.”
“who you’d break up with me for?”
“number one.” you ignore him and switch slides. suguru doesn’t miss how your lips twitch, wanting to smile at your own cube slide transition you apparently took the time to apply.
“no one,” you say easily. “i love my boyfriend despite how annoying he is, and i would never ever think of breaking up with him. also, if he tried to break up with me, i’d throw up and cry to make him feel guilty and remember all the good times we’ve had and why he’s dating me in the first place.”
your boyfriend in question leans further back into the couch and lets his chin rest in his palm as he hums thoughtfully. “happy to know you’re willing to throw up and cry and beg, but—”
“i didn’t say beg.”
suguru says your name—quietly, smoothly, with an amused lilt at the end despite your slideshow and what he’s about to ask next. “you know i can see there’s 12 more slides, right?”
a beat passes.
he’s still watching you intently as you finally smile.
“of course. so for the real number one—”
“can you just fall over once so i can feel better about myself?” you huff with slightly bent knees, and fingers intertwined with yuta’s while he slowly skates in front of you despite, apparently, never having had the chance to try ice skating before this.
the sun keeps you warm despite the chill as a few other couples skate around the rink—some mirroring you, others faring better.
yuta blinks, and then he lifts his head just enough so you can see how the corner of his mouth twitches past his scarf. “would it really make you feel better?”
“i dunno, maybe. try eating some ice first.”
“okay.”
and before you can say anything, his hands leave yours as he falls onto the ice with an ‘oof!’
“yuta!” his name leaves your lips in panic. the sudden disappearance of support makes your legs wobble, and your skates dig into the ice before you make your way toward him.
your boyfriend groans, his cheeks flushed, though whether from the cold or embarrassment, you’re not sure. you feel guilty for laughing a little when you speak, “i was joking, oh my god, are you okay?”
his hands move instinctively as he goes to push himself up, before he quickly realizes how cold ice is against bare skin. “yeah, ouch—ah, cold, cold! i know—i just thought i’d be better at fake falling.”
he winces as you awkwardly help him up, standing still as you give him a once over and rewrap his scarf around his neck. you joke softly, “you know what? seeing my boyfriend hurt himself didn’t make me feel better. sorry for asking.”
despite the slight ache in his tailbone, yuta manages to laugh. “you know what would make me feel better?”
“what?”
his face, already tinted red, flushes more as he realizes what he’s asked. but it’s too late now, and he probably deserves it—”...a kiss?”
an ad for a vintage market had popped up a few days ago, and nobara had excitedly agreed to go when you sent it to her. (she was slightly less excited at the thought of waking up early to get there first, but the competition, fashion, and “getting to buy rich people’s things” were enough to motivate her.)
you’re pulling at the sleeves of the coat you’ve found when she pops up beside you, flaunting a grin and pair of shades on her face. “do you think i look cool or super pretentious?”
you smile back. “depends on if you think i look cool or super pretentious.”
she taps her chin and hums before looking you up and down, exaggerating the head movement so you can tell despite not being able to really see her eyes.
“want me to spin?” you ask. but before she can even answer, you turn 180° and lift your arms, letting her soak it in. she watches as you walk around the stall, careful not to go too far so it didn’t seem like you were stealing.
“maybe if you were older and lived in a house with four cars or you were gojo, super pretentious.”
the mention of gojo makes you snicker. “...but?”
nobara’s smiling at you when you turn to face her with eyebrows raised. she lifts her hand to shoot you a thumbs up. “you’re not, so i say you look super cool.”
her face suddenly gets serious. “but seriously, what do you think about these shades? cool? pretentious? gojo?”
“what would you do if i said gojo?”
“break up with you.”
“i never took you as a cat person.”
“neither did i, i don’t think i am? but look how cute he is. his name is waffle,” itadori says without looking at you, focused on the fluffy grey cat in his arms.
waffle purrs and rubs his head against yuuji’s chin, who lets out a noise between a whimper and coo in response.
you huff. “coming here with you was a bad idea.”
he gasps. “don’t say that in front of waffle.”
“because now i want to adopt a cat,” you continue, laughing a little at yuuji’s tightened grip around waffle.
he makes a noise of agreement and pouts. “but if we didn’t come, we’d have never met waffle.”
“and porridge?”
“and russell.”
you snicker at the thought of russell—an orange cat in one of the other rooms who was one of those cats that really looked like he didn’t have a thought in his head. maybe because he was orange. “yeah, you know what, fair enough.”
yuuji decides to put waffle back in his kennel, but keeps playing by pulling the pipe cleaner tied to one of the cage bars up and down, getting him to jump up and grab it. “ahh, hi waffle, you’re so cute. i hope whoever adopts you is the best person ever.”
the sight of them playing makes you smile and pull out your phone. turning on your camera and pointing it toward yuuji who tilts his head and laughs, eyes lighting up as his new friend flops onto his back, you think it’s as good a time as any to get a new lockscreen.
surprise.! Get jujutsu kaisen'ed. i've never done this format i had no idea how to divide them so i just. used dividers. hm. i'll figure out if i like that or not later. no i didn't have anyone in mind for geto's slideshow. didn't know who wouldn't be... weird.
@danyisapingu @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @sirimirihiro @aria-chikage
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo x reader#geto x reader#yuuta x reader#nobara x reader#itadori x reader#jujutsu kaisen x gn reader#.. cant tell if theyre ooc. choosing to not think too hard about it. or at all. amen
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•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•
part one (you are here) • part two •
⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader
⋆warning(s): i guess just fighting and some cursing. and threatening to bite someone lol. also i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.
⋆a/n: this was so fun to write! requests are open, and i am new to this blog, so hang on while i get this all figured out. requests are open, and this will be a mini series i am continuing!!
It’s not usually this quiet at the Spider Society.
It’s nice.
I walk around, humming softly to myself as I munch on a banana, a craving I usually get. I let my hand rest on my slightly swollen belly, my suit especially made to let it stretch and give the baby some room.
Yeah, ever heard of a pregnant Spider-Woman?
It happened a couple of months ago, as married couples tend to let happen. It’s twins, actually. One boy and one girl, but, my husband doesn’t know yet. Doesn’t want to know. I called the doctor anyways, and even though he threw a hissy fit that could rival a toddler, he relented and said it was fine.
And, it was kind of nice being alone. A lot of the spider-people tend to do things for me, think I’m incapable of doing things now because I’m pregnant. Even the ridiculous Spider-Man T-Rex gave me a ride through the halls. I snort at the thought, gaining some weird looks.
Obviously, I didn’t refuse. Who would pass up a ride on a freaking dinosaur?
My few 30 minutes of bliss, however, was interrupted by the beeping on my watch. I tap on it and smile when I see Lyla. She gives a wave.
“Hey, big wifey,” she teases, pushing up her pink, heart-shaped glasses. I roll my eyes. Everyone knows I hate that name. It doesn’t make me feel fat, it just makes me very aware of the two babies living inside of me, and how very uncomfortable life can really get.
“Hey, algorithm girl, what’s up?” I shoot back with sarcasm. I am met with satisfaction as she gives me a dead-pan look.
“Haha, very funny, love that,” she says sarcastically. “Your husband is struggling with an anomaly. Earth-65, some kind of Renaissance bird-man.”
I giggle at the thought. I can imagine his annoyance. “Gotcha, and did he actually call for back up?” I ask, but i already know the answer. I take another bite of my banana, shifting my weight onto my right leg. I can never stand still for too long, luckily, being a super hero can keep me moving. Keeps the babies satisfied.
She snorts at me, like i was making some hilarious, un-heard of joke. I relent, sighing and preparing my bracelet to go to the universe she said he was in.
“Alright, alright. How long do you think until he actually asks?”
“I’d give you about two minutes. He’s getting really thrown around with this one. And there’s another spider person, trying to ask him too many questions.”
My eyes perk back up to the hologram when she mentions this. “I haven’t heard of a recruit from Earth-65, is she new?” I ponder out loud. I cock my head to the side, adjusting my mask. Well, half mask. It really only covers my eyes. Lyla nods. “Yup, she’s a new one. She’s a nice kid, too.”
I smile.
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
Lyla logs off and I sigh, patting my baby bump. “Alright, you guys,” I whisper to my belly. I stick out my hand and the portal opens, and I jump in. I shout with joy, flying through the portal, and as I practically fall to the other end, my hair whips around.
I fall on the other end, and I groan as my hair blocks my vision. I hear grunting, crushing, wings flapping, and snappy remarks being thrown about, but I can’t see anything. I flip my hair over my head, shaking it out.
“I need a hair tie on these things,” I mumble to myself.
I look over, and I see a feminine-looking spider-hero staring at me. I give her a small wave. Her eyes are wide, I can tell. I examine her suit, which seems like it holds up pretty well. It has hood, which is new to me, and she’s wearing…are those ballet flats? I smile
“Hey, babes! You look cute!” I compliment to the get up.
She waves back again, and she looks down at my stomach. “Are you….?” She trails off. I look down, and put a hand on my hip. “Yep, I am. It’s twins, but don’t tell my husband the sexes yet. He wants to wait.” She nods, but seems to remember that she doesn’t know just who my husband is. She takes a step towards me.
“Who are you married to? Are there even more people like us?” I nod.
“My husband’s right….” I don’t even flinch as he gets thrown into the wall right in front of me, and I smile. “There.”
He groans as he slips to get up, his mask eyes squinting at me. I squint my eyes right back.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m carrying your children,” I scold. He gestured to the giant creature that hurls towards us. “I need help here!” He shouts at me. Lyla puts up on my shoulder, and we both cross our arms. He sighs, looking down.
“Please, Y/N? Sabes que no me gusta mendigar,(You know I don’t enjoy begging),“ He pleads quietly.
Vulture screeches at us. “Love truly makes me sick,” he narrates out loud, and he reaches his talons out for me. I stuck out my wrists and web up one wing, so he goes sideways, just barely missing me. He breaks free, but I web up behind him again.
“Your attitude makes me sick!” I shout at him. “You seem like the Beethoven of your area, jerky, cold, and not the greatest people-person!” I struggle to speak as I try to web him up again, but it doesn’t work. He barrels towards me, and grabs me in his talons. I hear Miguel growl and leap off the ground, landing on his back. He tugs on the man’s feathers, making him spin around to try and find him. I take the opportunity to web myself away from his grasp, kicking him away as I do so.
“Is this guy made of paper?” I ask, rubbing my hands together as I take a moment to actually register what just happened. Miguel grunts, and yells as he speaks to me from the bottom of the building. “Honey, I love your voice, but I really need you to use your actions right now!”
I spot a few witnesses trapped behind some rubble, so I shoot off the side of the wall to swoop them up. They scream, clutching onto me, and I drop them off right by a big police officer. He gawks at me, and I give him salute as Miguel webs me up again. I twist up, getting wrapped in his webbing, and I break free using a kick, hitting Vulture square in the jaw with my foot. He grunts in pain, squeezing his eyes shut, and Miguel uses this moment to try and guide him down, so he won’t escape.
I land right next to, what’s her name? I’ll learn it soon enough. I land right next to the teen as she stares at me. I smirk at her.
“What, never seen two married spiders?”
She swallows. “Can you adopt me?”
“What?”
“What? Nothing! Nothing!”
Miguel groans, and I can tell he’s growing tired. “¡Por Dios! ¿Puedes dejar de hablar por un momento? (Oh, my God. Can you stop talking for a moment?)” He calls out to me. I let out a heavy sigh, putting my hands on my knees. “I’m sorry, but your babies are making it hard to move right now!” I shout at him. Gwen webs away from me, and Miguel lands right next to me again. “Last time I checked, it took two people to make those two babies,” he grumbles. We take a moment and watch as Gwen tries to take down Vulture by herself.
I look at Miguel, and raise my eyebrows. “Did she call ya ‘Dark Garfield?’” I ask. He groans, and I can tell hair eyes shut as his head falls forward. “Yes.”
I giggle. “I like her. Maybe we can recruit-“ “No. No, we can’t, and you know why.” My somewhat playful attitude disappears with a frown, and I nod in compliance. He grabs my waist and he swings us up, and then we fall onto the Vulture back again. I scream through gritted teeth as I try to hold him down on the ground, but he flings me off, a sudden, new found strength in him.
“What the hell?” I curse. “Not cool, man!”
“This ends now,” he says to me, and he springs upward. I curse under my breath again, but it seems Miguel is on top of it. Literally.
“If he gets out, this whole universe will collapse!” He shouts, mainly at Gwen. I know the risks involved, having to save almost every universe from them every day. I shoot my wrist out, but I groan. I hit my web shooters, but nothing comes out. “Fuck-Miguel! I’m out!” I try to jump from floor to floor, but I quickly get nauseous while doing that. I look down at my stomach again, poking it. “So web slinging is fine but jumping is what doesn’t please you guys?” I ask the unborn babies. I get a mere kick in return. “I know that was the girl. That was way too sassy,” I grumble to myself.
Spider-Girl lands right beside me, and she looks at my husband and he battles Vulture. They both crash right through the glass ceiling, and we shield ourselves from the shards that could possibly cut us. She looks at me.
“What is he gonna do?” She asks. Miguel takes the Vulture’s face in his hands, and opens his mouth, wide, baring his fangs and giving a loud roar. “Oh snap,” whispers under his breath. But, he’s cut short, when a helicopter shines a light on him. He yells at the helicopter, his mask coming up again to cover his face.
“I’m a good guy! I’m here to help!” He desperately explains. My spider senses then go off, and I scream up to Miguel.
“Miguel! Watch-!“
I’m too late. Vulture throws two weapons at the helicopter, and then the helicopter starts to spin, going down, and fast.
“Shit.” All three of us say in unison.
I look to the kid, and she’s already looking at me. I nod towards her, and she returns the gesture, and we both know what that means. She launches off the floor, and she begins to web a net. I take a deep breath. “Alright, babies, don’t make me throw up,” I say sternly to my unborn babies.
I leap off the ground, and I fly through the middle of the helicopter, grabbing the two pilots and landing on the fourth floor of the building. I grunt as I roll on the ground with them, and we writhe in pain.
I turn to the both of them, checking on them, and I run to the edge, well, the mess that made the edge. I look down, and the teenage girl is flying through the air, webbing up a net. And just as the helicopter is about to crash, she flies right underneath it, just barely getting nipped by the chopper.
She lands, breathing heavily.
“Wow,” I whisper. Miguel hops a bit in front of me, landing on some rubble.
“I was gonna do that,” he says quietly to himself. I can tell he’s thinking her, thinking about her hard. Miguel and I share a glance at her, and she nods. She turns and hops down from the huge rock, and goes back towards the wall, out of sight. I turn and see the two pilots staring at me. I smile.
“Yeah, I know, there’s lots of freaky spider people, that was my reaction too. Cmon, let’s get you two a medic.” I reach down and offer my hand to them, which they take, one at a time. I help them to the big opening in the building where the door used to be, and I hand them over to some officers.
I sigh, turning around to find my husband surveying the area.
I walk up to him, putting a hand on his back, feeling his tense and rigid muscles, alert and still in attack mode. He seems to relax a little at my touch, and he lets his mask down. I grin, amusement
“Your hair is all messed up.” “Can you and I have one good moment after a battle where you don’t make fun of my hair?” “Absolutely not.”
He lets out a low growl, rolling his eyes. I walk a little in front of him, and stare at the place where the teen escaped to, hearing some grunting from there. No doubt she’s recovering on her own. My hand comes to rest on my stomach, my thumb running over the bump. I turn back to Miguel, my mouth open to speak, but he beats me to it.
“I said no,” he rejects me as he leans down to pick up some broken machinery. He scoffs at some poor excuse for art. “I’m starting to think Vulture did everyone a favor by destroying this place, this art sucks-“
“Miguel O'Hara, no cambies de tema,” I say sternly. He lets out a sigh. Spanish isn’t even my main language, so when I speak it, he knows I’m not messing around. He spins around, holding a figurine of a balloon dog in his hand. I would find it comedic, a big guy like him holding a small thing like that, but not when he’s trying to avoid my questions.
“You know we can use her. I’ve never seen anything like her, and she even beat you to one of your moves. You have to agree with me on this!” I gesture out in front of me, as if the conversation is laid out in front of us. Miguel sighs, walking up to me with his hands on his hips. His expression is hard, but his eyes give it away. He’s considering it, it helps if I’ve spent about a couple years with him now.
He brings his hand to my waist and another to my hair, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.
“Te amo demasiado a veces,” he mumbles into my hair.
Okay, that gives me absolutely nothing.
His hand travel down to my stomach, and his two very large hands splay over my tummy. His lips quirk up a bit as one of them kicks against my skin. “Did you do okay today?” He asks quietly, referring to my very pregnant self. I nod, but it doesn’t seem to reassure him.
Vulture struggles next to us, but we just give him an annoyed look. “I’m done with your attitude!” Miguel tells him, pointing at him. He sighs, turning back to me, grabbing my waist and pulling me impossibly closer, so we’re basically sharing the same breathe. My stomach flutters. Even after marrying him, he really can have the same affect on me from when I was a new recruit.
“You know you can always opt out whenever, I can call for other backup,” he says quietly. He’s trying to spare my feelings, not letting others hear so I won’t get embarrassed. I’m never embarrassed, it’s life, I got pregnant, but I appreciate the sentiment. I lean up and kiss his nose.
“I know, thank you, but really, I’m fine.” I stick a hand up as he begins to protest. “At 7 months, I will take maternity leave. I’ll rest and just be the desk person, okay?” I ask. He debates it for a moment, and lets out a grunt and nods. We stay in our somewhat embrace for a bit, when we hear a gun shot. My head whips to where Spider-Woman went and hid, and I look at Miguel.
His mask forms again, and he kicks Vulture, telling him to be still as he picks him up. Miguel picks me up with his other arm and swings to the opening as we fall in.
“Dad, please!” She begs the cop standing across from her. Miguel shoots a containment pod at him, and she runs towards him. I grab her by the shoulders, trying to use my softest voice.
“Hey, hey, kid. Hey, it’s okay, we’re here, we got you,” I say quietly to her. She’s crying as she clutches onto my arm, staring at her dad. Miguel opens a portal, and I give the kid one more pat and walk over to him.
“What are we gonna do?” I whisper to him. He looks at me. “What do you mean?”
I roll my eyes.
“We can’t just leave her here!” I get a bit louder, but he shushes me, putting a finger up. My jaw drops.
“You did not just shush me,” I growl.
“Oh, I think I did.”
“Oh, I know you didn’t-!”
Miguel and I bicker back and forth, and at some point, Vulture voluntarily hops into the portal, all tied up, not wishing to stick around. I stick my finger up as I try to argue with him, my hand coming to my hip, and he towers over me, but that never took away my edge.
Then, some sniffling gets us to shut up.
The kid looks at us, her eyes watery and wide. She looks like what she is…a teenager who’s lost and alone. She opens her mouth to speak. “I-I don’t know what to do.”
I look slowly at Miguel, and he lets his head hang forward.
“Yeah, well….”
I raise my eyebrows at him.
“Join the club.”
🕷️ 💍
#miguel x reader#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#spiderman 2099#spider man#spider man into the spider verse#across the spider verse spoilers#miles morales#gwen stacy
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