#but then I started writing it and was like
Text
Happy together.
Officer!Ellieㄨ fem reader
a/n: i honestly don't know how to feel about this but it took me ages to write so i'm going to post it anyway. also enjoy the trashy lil pic i edited of my wife😌// @sapphichotmess is gonna get soapy boobies pics for proofreading this. i love you you're amazing.
cw/wc: 17k ! murders/violence, mention of blood (I don't think it's that bad but if you're sensitive to this type of stuff just scroll), officer!ellie x waitress!reader, (tw) Eminem, smut, breeding kink, handcuffs😔, strap-on sex (r!receiving), thigh riding (e!receiving), use of pet names like (mama, princess, babe etc), and uhhh that's it i believe?? lmk if i missed something.
daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.
The Police Station – Late Night – September 11th, 2018.
The auburnette released a heavy, exaggerated sigh, her weariness palpable as she delicately brushed the rough, calloused palms of her hands against her fatigued face, a few stray strands of hair cascading gently across her features, capturing the attention of her colleague. His eyes lifted towards his friend, a concerned furrow appearing on his face as he took in the haunting purple shadows under her eyes, a poignant reflection of her exhaustion.
"You look like shit, man," He suddenly exclaimed, the tips of his fingers dancing on the smooth plastic caps of his laptop.
"Awh, thanks, that's so sweet," She reclined in her office chair, the weight of the day's paperwork momentarily forgotten. It felt as though she had been sitting there for an eternity, each and every cell of her body yearning and longing for her wife. With her shift drawing to a close, she could hardly contain her anticipation of returning home to you, just so that she could feel the warmth of your embrace and perhaps resume the intimate and passionate encounters you had shared last night.
The boy leaned back in his chair, and a smug smirk spread across his face. "You look like you haven't slept," His gaze shifted back to his friend, who was sitting at her desk across the room, her eyes tired and her shoulders slumped.
"'Cause I haven't," she uttered, shaking her head. A light, airy puff of air escaped her chapped lips as her fingers danced through her locks, coaxing burnished stray strands away from her face.
"How are things going with your girl?" He gave her a questioning look, as if silently asking what was going on. It struck him that she hadn't complained about her marriage in a while.
Her response was a mere nod as she admitted, "Pretty good, actually." However, her gaze remained unfocused, her mind elsewhere as she replayed the previous night's memories in her head. Your moans echoed in her ears while the image of your ecstatic expressions played on repeat, like a broken video tape stuck on a single scene.
"Really?"
He was the one she trusted wholeheartedly. In the darkest hours of her marital struggles, she sought refuge in Jesse's ever-present presence. Hours would slip away as she poured out her heart to him until the early light of dawn or until their shift was over. Yet, he never seemed to mind 'cause his friends' problems were his problems.
After a great four years together, where you and she shared an uncanny kinship and complemented each other like two puzzle pieces, things took a gradual turn for the worse. Heated arguments began to erupt frequently, fueled by petty disagreements about insignificant matters such as the shoes left by the door, piles of unwashed dishes on the living room coffee table, or the kitchen table. Over time, both of you grew tired of this never-ending cycle of conflict.
Dr. Diaz was remarkable in his ability to guide both of you in honing your communication skills and learning how to make each other feel truly heard. It felt like a fresh start with someone you already knew so well and had shared countless memories with. Initially, walking out of your first session was an uncomfortable experience, leaving you feeling almost overly exposed, as if you had revealed too much. The ride back home was filled with an awkward silence that was unfamiliar, never in your life you felt awkward around her, not even once. A few small sighs escaped occasionally, both of you remaining silent until you finally returned home.
"Yeah."
His warm smile spoke volumes as he offered reassuring words to her, "Told you it was just a matter of time. Dina and I have been through it, too, before."
She sat comfortably in her weathered chair, leaning back slightly as she pushed herself away from her sturdy wooden desk. "Speaking of Dina, how's she holdin’ up?" her mind suddenly shifted to a very pregnant Dina who was already eight months along and was about to explode at any second.
The raven-haired man imperceptibly shrugged his shoulders "Y'know, pregnancy hormones—what the doctor said."
She let out a soft snort, a half-smile gracing her lips. "Have you settled on the names?" she inquired.
He sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "We keep fighting over it," he admitted, "She wants to name him-" before he could finish his sentence, an announcement echoing through the hallway of the department caught Ellie's and his attention simultaneously. They stood up abruptly, exchanging concerned glances and rushed out of the small room with a sense of urgency.
"A 140, where?" Ellie's voice quivered, her heart hoping against hope that she had misheard the news. Worry painted itself across her freckled face, etching lines of concern amidst the constellation of her pretty freckles.
It couldn't be. No, it couldn't.
Color drained from her face, and she grew paler than the moon, the realization hitting her like a sudden storm. It was the same diner where you worked, and worry consumed her like a relentless tide.
They made their way towards Jesse's car with lightning speed, both fully aware that Ellie was in no condition to get behind the wheel. She urged Jesse to drive faster, her heart thudding like crazy in her ribcage. She tried to call you countless times, but you never answered. Her palms turned clammy, her hands trembling like fragile leaves in the wind.
"Fuckin' hurry up." The car swerved erratically, anxiety emanating from every pore of her skin. Her voice grew louder and more forceful as she shouted at Jesse, who held the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"We’re gonna crash if we go any faster than this," he raised his voice back at her, feeling all the pressure and tension of the world on his shoulders, but at the same time, he couldn't blame her.
The Diner – Late Night – September 11th, 2018.
As they reached the crime scene, her eyes were immediately drawn to the stark sight of yellow tape cordoning off the area. The tape fluttered gently in the breeze, creating an almost surreal barrier. Beyond it, the solemn figures of police officers moved with purpose, their expressions a mix of determination and concern.
A lone officer stood at the forefront, diligently jotting down notes, while another leaned in to share crucial details about the tragic event. Their hushed conversations hinted at the weight of the situation as they sought to unravel the enigma of the killer's intentions. "I've never seen anything like this 'round here before. The killer must have acted out of rage or passion. There must be a reason," The freckled girl strained to hear the officers' hushed conversation, her stomach sinking with each word.
As she moved closer, they swiftly barred her way. The scene unfolded like a haunting painting—the diner's floor marked by crimson footsteps. She couldn't tell if it was the officer's grim descriptions or the frigid night air that sent shivers down her spine.
"Williams, they are already taking care of it, just wait here and-"
"No, no, no, listen—I have to go in there. My wife works here." She desperately attempted to push through the two middle-aged men, but they held her back with ease. Her voice quivered with fear as she begged to reach you. Were you harmed? Were you in pain? Were you...alive?
Her face was like a canvas of worry, etched with lines of concern. With a graceful shrug, she brushed off the unwelcome hands on her shoulders, "Who's the victim?" she feared what the answer to her question would be, but she needed to know. Her brows were furrowed with worry as she waited for a response, her eyes brimming with fear. "Pleaseplease—Tell me it's not her." She pleaded with such desperation and worry on your behalf that the two men couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. They saw the depth of her love and concern for you, and what touched them the most was that they knew you.
Every day, you would lovingly pack a lunch, a sweet treat, or even a hearty dinner to bring to her at work. Your kindness shone through like a warm beam of sunlight, always in a cheerful mood with a genuine smile on your face as you chatted with her colleagues, asking them about their day and thanking them for their service before returning to your routine.
Ellie stood before the men, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. One of the men heaved a deep, mournful sigh that echoed in the stillness, and he shook his head gravely, his lips drawn into a tight, sorrowful frown.
"Your wife is currently being interrogated as she was present when the murder occurred," Officer Johnson explained to the younger girl, his voice low and measured. She let out a long sigh of relief as his words reached her ears, finally being able to remove the image of you lying in a pool of blood from her mind.
While she felt guilty about it, she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that it wasn't you the one who had been brutally murdered. It was a twisted and sick feeling, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders even though a girl had been brutally murdered. She was grateful that you were still alive, safe, and healthy, at least as far as she knew. She longed to be there for her wife, to wrap her arms around you and hold you tight. She wanted to comfort you, to reassure you that everything would be okay, even though she wasn't entirely sure herself.
"Please, I need to see her." She kept pleading and pleading until her colleagues finally relented and let her slip past the bright plastic tape. She raced into the diner and quickly scanned the scene. Blood stained the floor, and the door to the back room was left wide open. Blood was pooled on the floor, with a corpse lying beneath a white sheet. Vanessa Harding was now a lifeless corpse. As Ellie surveyed the carnage, her heart ached at the sight of you sobbing on the retro sofa as an investigator tried to coax answers out of you. But you seemed completely lost in your own world, clearly shaken.
The sound of her voice calling out your name as she approached you with a mix of eagerness and concern seemed to blend with the rest of the background chatter as you found yourself unable to shake off your daze. Her trembling hands found their place on your shoulders, gently pushing the agent who was interrogating you aside. A glimpse of concern crossed her eyes as she took in the blood stains on your once-blue waitress uniform. Her heart ached at the sight of you. She hesitated, fighting the urge to pull you into a comforting hug, knowing that maintaining some distance was best in such moments. What mattered was that you were okay, healthy, at least.
The investigator began to speak, but Ellie quickly turned her head towards him, fixing him with a death glare. Her body stiffened as she shielded you from his view. "Can't you see she's having a full-on mental breakdown? We're not supposed to interrogate people in this state," she stated firmly, her voice cold and harsh.
The officer took a step back, sighing in frustration. "I'll be back in a minute." He announced, and with that, he left the room, leaving the two of you alone beside a few medical examiners and other colleagues doing their job, the light chatting becoming a white noise for the both of you.
You sat there, absentmindedly consumed by your thoughts, when a melodic voice penetrated your haze. You lifted your gaze to find a concerned Ellie standing before you, her presence initially unnoticed. Despite her ongoing comforting words, you were too engrossed in your own thoughts to truly register her. It wasn't until she drew a chair and sat right in front of you that your focus shifted completely. When your vacant eyes now met hers, you broke down again.
Your voice quivered as you whispered, "E-ellie..." as tears streamed down your face and your bottom lip trembled. You felt a sudden wave of relief as her hands gently cupped your face, and her thumb caressed your cheekbone.
Her comforting voice soothed your soul as she whispered, "I was so worried, baby. I'm here now, ‘m here." You cried harder, but this time, it was tears of gratitude and love. Her presence made you feel like nothing could hurt you anymore because she was there. You felt safe in her embrace like everything was going to be okay.
"I was getting off my- and she… she... I tried, I really tried-" Your words were tangled and muttered, barely above a whisper. You shook profusely, completely consumed by the traumatic event that had just unfolded. Ellie could sense the terror and dread in your voice, and she swiftly drew you closer, encircling you in a comforting embrace. She held you tight, her palm soothingly stroking your head, creating a soothing effect that gradually calmed your trembling. She whispered gentle words of reassurance in your ear, imploring you to calm down and promising safety. Her voice was a soothing balm, its effect helping to assuage your rattled nerves. It was all you needed, she was all you needed.
It was as if she had an uncanny knack for dispelling your fears and nerves "Shhhshh" She quieted you gently, her words evoking a profound sense of gratitude within you for having someone so attuned to your emotions in your life. "You're safe, you're safe." As she drew back, she slipped off her jacket and gently draped it over your shoulders, ensuring you were warm and at ease, hoping to stop your turmoil. "S'okay…I gotchu." She continued to softly whisper reassurances in your ear, soothing your worries away with the knowledge that everything would turn out alright. In that instant, the entire world seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in the present moment.
After a few moments had passed, you had noticeably calmed down, prompting Ellie to allow the officer who had been interrogating you earlier to resume his task. She stood closely beside him as he launched into a string of questions, his pen scrawling diligently on his notebook.
"So you got off your shift, you returned to retrieve your keys, and found her dead, is that correct?" The old man recapitulated your statement, his gaze shifting between your barely exposed uniform beneath your wife's jacket and the bloodstains marking your clothing. He further inquired, "And you slipped on the blood?" His eyes remained fixated on the bloodstains that adorned your uniform, while your gaze remained locked on the bloodied footprints on the floor, you responded with a small shake of your head.
"I was kneeling in the blood, trying to bring her back, but there was no heartbeat. I freaked out. I wanted to do something, anything, but she was already gone"
"Any additional details that you recall?" he questioned, his eyebrows arching inquisitively in your direction.
"There was a..." In a feeble voice, you began to reply, only for it to falter and crack. You cleared your throat, attempting to regain your composure before speaking in a firmer tone, "There was a man." You sniffed, looking up at him with a frown tugging at the corners of your lips "He had his hood up, so I couldn't see his face. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a black hoodie, and he looked to be about 5'7," You strained to extract every possible detail, and he diligently recorded them in quick succession.
The only sound filling the crowded diner was the scratching of his pen against the paper, while the ambient chatter of the other patrons added a surreal yet comforting hum in the background. The scene felt utterly unreal, like some messed up vivid dream.
"Sir, there are no files from the security cameras' system. Whoever it was made sure to leave no traces," another officer interjected, halting the ongoing interrogation.
"Was anyone else there? besides you and well… Vanessa." He gazed at you with a furrowed brow, and you responded with a subtle shake of your head. Your lips formed a taut line as you revisited every fleeting moment preceding the end of your shift.
"I was about to finish my shift, and usually, no one shows up around that time. Before he arrived, there was a lady with a kid, but I don't think they saw each other." You explained, taking a moment to glance at your wife, hoping to find comfort in her eyes. A faint smile appeared on her face, accompanied by a small, supportive nod. She was there for you.
The officer hastily transcribed all the details, his pen scratching against the paper. "I'll give you a moment," he said, casting a furtive glance at Ellie before quietly exiting the room, making his departure alongside his steadfast colleague.
She stepped closer to you with a gentle grace, reaching out to lift your chin with the utmost care. Her touch was as light as a feather, almost as if she feared causing you any harm. "You're doing great, pretty. We're almost done, okay? Just hang on," She gazed down at you with a smile that could light up the darkest sky, her eyes filled with tenderness and warmth. Your gaze met hers, and in that moment, it felt like time stood still. Her delicate touch traced the contours of your face, evoking a sense of serenity that enveloped you. As you closed your eyes, a gentle sigh escaped your lips, and you leaned into her caress, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders.
After a few moments, Jesse entered the crowded diner, his footsteps echoing softly on the floor. He exchanged a few words with the man who had been interrogating you the entire time. Ellie briefly glanced at him, and a faint smile graced her lips as they locked eyes, holding each other's gaze in that fleeting moment.
"So whatcha wanna do when we get back home?" she asked in an attempt to steer your thoughts away from the stress and chaos.
"I don't know... I wanna sleep," you pouted, your words soft and heavy with weariness. She looked down at you with tenderness, gently brushing a stray piece of hair out of the way and tucking it behind your ear.
"Tempting. But I was thinking of your favorite movie and pizza?" she suggested, her hopeful gaze meeting yours, her voice carrying a whisper of warmth.
You forced a half smile at her suggestion, your eyes still looking more tired than ever. "What about tacos? You know that Mexican place down the street?" You recalled the Mexican restaurant that recently opened down the street. For about two weeks, you had been telling her you wanted to try it, yet you still hadn't gotten the chance to.
She brushed your hair with her fingers, each gentle stroke feeling like a soft caress. A gentle smile formed on her lips, making the apples of her cheeks more pronounced. "Good idea, babe," she praised, her voice as soothing as a summer breeze, as tender as her touch, and you couldn't help but smile back at her, feeling the warmth of her affection enveloping you like a soft blanket.
After what seemed like an eternity, they finally let you go, and Ellie refused to leave your side for even a moment. Jesse drove you both home in solemn silence, punctuated only by the occasional light banter between him and Ellie. The weight of the impending visit to the police station loomed over you, and you couldn't fathom the reason behind the barrage of questions that awaited you. Perhaps it was due to the absence of eyewitnesses, but you were ready to cooperate nonetheless. That night, she held you gently, wrapping you in a comforting hug until you fell asleep.
The Police Station – September 12th, 2018.
The very next day, your wife stood by your side as you both headed to the police station. Her hand gently rested on your thigh throughout the entire ride, silently expressing her unwavering love and support. The warm sunbeams that usually provided comfort through the car windows didn't have the same effect on your nerves. Your stomach felt heavy, as if a knot had formed within you. Anxiety and restlessness consumed you. Her green emerald eyes frequently flickered towards you as she attempted to soothe your nerves with soft whispers, promising to stay by your side the entire time.
"It's going to be okay, honey." Her lips, delicate as rose petals, gently pressed against your forehead. She reluctantly let you go, watching you disappear into the interrogation room. Her colleagues' words echoed in the air, emphasizing the need for her to stay out so she would not interfere in any way.
"How did you sleep y/n?" the detective in front of you asked, turning on the recorder player before reaching for a pencil and starting scribbling on her papers.
"Awful," you exhaled, the weight of the word hanging heavy in the air. Your index finger delicately traced the arch of your brow as you gazed downwards, lost in a moment of profound contemplation.
"It must've been a traumatizing experience for you."
You nodded barely, your tired eyes meeting hers, "It was." Your face was less radiant than usual. The detective had seen you countless times before in this exact station, searching for your wife to deliver her something. Sometimes, it was a carefully prepared meal, other times, it was a bouquet of her favorite flowers or simply a thoughtful gift. And then there were the times you were there just to check up on her, your unexpected visits filled with love and concern.
"Let's attempt to retrace your steps together. Shall we?"
"Okay"
"Let's start from the beginning," she said, giving you the chance to speak at your own pace, without any pressure, so that you could fully elaborate on your memories and feelings.
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The Diner – Early Night – September 11th, 2018.
You let out a heavy sigh, feeling utterly exhausted from the long hours of the shift. You had barely slept the day before, managing a measly 3 hours of restless sleep that did little to ease the heavy weariness on your tired shoulders. Every inch of you ached for the comforting embrace of your bed, and your eyes longed to shut for just a moment.
As you wiped the counter clean, you glanced towards the door that seemed to swing open all too rarely during this late hour. The clock ticked closer to 4:04 am, and you knew it was unusual for people to come around this time of night. Just a few customers here and there was all you could expect, and you preferred it that way.
The background noise of chatter in the late-night diner was enough to lull you to sleep, but you kept going on autopilot, moving to the sink to wash the few dishes that awaited you. Another heavy sigh escaped your lips as you thought about the hours that separated you from your pillow's comfort—the night seemed to stretch on infinitely.
"Ready to run back home to get laid?" the shorter girl teased you playfully, nudging you with her elbow as a small smile played on her red lips. She noticed the exhaustion written on your face, the fatigue in your heavy eyelids, and the dark circles under your eyes. You let out a dry chuckle, trying to hide the exhaustion that had settled deep within you.
"Just wanna go to bed," you responded with a weak but playful smile
"Right. go to bed with your hot wife—wonder what y'all freaks will do." Vanessa continued to playfully tease you, her liking for your wife a little too evident in her words. Ever since Ellie stepped into this diner for the first time, the brunette set her eyes on her. However, Ellie had always made the fact that she wasn't interested obvious. Your friend was pretty unlucky in this sort of thing; the best she would get was a phone number scribbled on a piece of paper by a middle-aged, beer-bellied man, who was likely just looking for a quick hook-up. And despite her initial attempts to draw Ellie's attention, Vanessa could sense that her interest was unreciprocated, leaving her feelings unreturned for the time being.
You couldn't help but let out a small giggle at Vanessa's words, and you nudged her lightly with your hip as a playful gesture. She moved closer, taking over the task of drying the dishes you had just washed, her hands methodically working alongside yours to complete the chore "Oh, handcuff me, Ellie, I've been such a bad, bad girl." She imitated you in a high-pitched voice that was nothing like yours, and you responded with a dramatic gasp, feigning shock and surprise at her teasing. The exaggerated reaction only seemed to amuse her more, and she broke into a wide grin, her laughter echoing through the diner.
"Oh my god, shut up!"
She burst into a fit of laughter, her amusement so intense that it drew the attention of the few remaining customers in the retro-looking diner. Some of them shot her strange looks, narrowing their eyes disapprovingly at the disturbance, while others simply ignored her and continued with their conversations.
"I swear, you shouldn't even be allowed here. You're embarrassing.” You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her, secretly appreciating her exuberant spirit. Her laughter died down; her blue eyes shifted toward the table where an older woman and her child had just finished their meal. The brunette approached the table, wiping it clean and pocketing the generous tip the woman had left her. She shot a wide smile her way, thanking her before returning to your side behind the counters.
"Hey, not fair," you complained, turning off the faucet with a huff and drying your hands on a cloth before facing her. "Let's split."
She grinned at you unapologetically, "Sorry, finders keepers." You sighed, turning towards her with one hand on your hip, with a playful disappointment on your face.
"Whatever—my shift is almost over anyways. Guess who's gonna be stuck here for a while longer? Hah! Not me." The lighthearted taunts cut short as a man suddenly entered the diner, his dark clothes and raised hood casting an eerie shadow over his features. You exchanged a glance with your coworker, silently agreeing that the stranger's appearance was suspicious, but decided to brush it off.
"Liz is gonna be here in a bit. Want me to wait here with you until she arrives?" you offered thoughtfully, your fingers skillfully untying the frilly white fabric that had been wrapped around your waist throughout the entire shift. Your eyes darted discreetly towards the man sitting at one of the tables, completely engrossed by his phone as he typed feverishly, his fingers dancing across the screen. The dim lighting of the diner cast shadows on his face, making it difficult to discern his expressions or intent.
“Naaah, I'll be fine.” she gave you a reassuring smile, and you nodded in acknowledgment, murmuring a quick "alright" before disappearing into the back room. The sound of the door creaking echoed softly in your ears as you entered the staff area, immediately shedding your frilly apron and gathering your personal belongings.
When you exited the small room, you saw Vanessa pouring steaming coffee into the mysterious man's cup. Navigating your way towards the exit, your shoulder bumped against hers, and she whispered playfully, “Eminem wannabe,” and you couldn't help but chuckle.
You had barely made it halfway down the road when the sickening realization hit you like a brick—you had left your keys at the diner. Ellie wouldn't be home anytime soon, so there was no way you could get in. You cursed under your breath before reluctantly turning your car around, determined to retrieve your keys. But when you returned to the diner, the scene that greeted you was surreal and terrifying. Vanessa's lifeless body lay on the floor, a gruesome tableau of violence that seemed to defy imagination, and there was no trace of the Eminem look-alike she had jested about only moments ago.
With a sense of dread and disbelief, you cautiously approached her body, the pool of blood surrounding her seeming to glow a disturbingly bright shade of red in the low light of the back room. You succumbed to the weight of the situation, the strength leaving your body as you sank to your knees. After calling out her name and shaking her in vain, the cold reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. No pulse, no breathing, no nothing. The sticky, warm liquid of her blood staining your bare knees was a chilling reminder of the horror that had played out in the dark corners of the diner. The room was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of your labored breathing as you sat there in shock and the broken sobs that escaped your wobbly lips, echoing in the now-empty diner. It was a moment that you would never forget, a nightmare that would haunt you for the rest of the days.
“911, what's your emergency?”
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The Police Station – September 12th, 2018.
Your face is stained with grief and regret. “I wish I waited with her, I had a gut feeling and-” You hiccupped, your voice choked with emotion, “I regret not listening to it.” The blonde woman before you nodded in understanding, her gaze filled with a mixture of empathy and professional detachment. After a moment, she reached out to turn off the recorder, the soft click cutting off the audio of your emotional confession.
The detective stood up, her words a mere formality in the face of your emotional turmoil. "That is it, y/n. Thank you for your cooperation." With a final nod, she turned and left the room, leaving you with your emotions and thoughts.
In a flash of movement, Ellie entered the room, her steps quick and purposeful as she slid in just as the detective stepped out. Her eyes softened as she took in your tear-stained face.
"Hey," she whispered softly, her words reaching your ears and bringing a brief moment of comfort. You mustered a weak "Hey" in response. The weight of the situation was heavy on your shoulders, and you felt a deep sense of vulnerability in her presence, the trauma of the past few hours still lingering in your mind.
“You did pretty good, ma.” She stood right behind you, her touch gentle and reassuring as she rubbed your shoulders. Her presence was strong and supportive, even though you couldn't bring yourself to meet her gaze. But she was there by your side as always, and it was the only guarantee you needed in that moment.
"Just wanna go home." You murmured, your voice barely audible, earning a nod from her; her silent response conveying her understanding of your unspoken need for comfort.
"I'll take you," she offered softly, her voice a gentle reassurance. You tried to protest, not wanting to add to her burden. She was working, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to keep your hot wife from fulfilling her responsibilities.
"No, it's fine," you said hurriedly. "You're working anyways." But Ellie's insistence was unwavering, her tone firm yet compassionate.
"It's fine, I promise," she assured you, her words leaving no room for argument. All she wanted to do was linger by your side and stay home with you, but duty called, and right after dropping you home, she returned to her workplace.
Police Station – September 15th, 2018.
The raven-haired man approached Ellie, his voice serious as he announced, "Things don't look too good, El." He quickly locked the door behind him before continuing to spill some private matters everyone had kept from her.
The atmosphere in the room turned tense as Jesse placed his hands on the edge of Ellie's desk and leaned closer to her. His serious expression left no doubt that he wasn't joking around. "Are you on ‘shrooms again?" she asked sarcastically, but when he didn't break into a smile, she set down her pen and looked up at him, her expression turning serious. "I'm gonna take that as a no," she said cautiously, her voice still laced with a hint of sarcasm.
Ellie's tentative words broke the silence again, "So? You gonna tell me what's up, or you just gonna stand there and look stupid?" But her playful remark was again met with the man's serious and troubled expression. He shook his head slowly, sighing as if he was carefully considering the right words to use. He leaned closer to her, his voice now a low, hushed tone.
"They think your girl has something to do with it." The seriousness in his voice left no doubt that it was a situation that could not be taken lightly.
Ellie's defensive and aggravated tone filled the room as she stood up from her worn-out office chair, abruptly raising her voice. "What?! That's fuckin’ absurd!" she snapped, "They can't accuse her of that—she didn't do it!" Jesse raised his hand to beckon her to keep it quiet, his expression serious as he tried to keep the conversation from escalating.
"Listen, don't let them know that you know,” he explained, his voice hushed. "They weren't going to tell you because they think you'll get involved and mess up the investigation,” he explained. The freckled girl's face contorted with a mix of disbelief, anger, and fear as her friend described the situation to her. Her fists clenched as she took in the news, her mind racing with a hundred thoughts at once.
"What do the police think they have on her?" she interrogated, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jesse sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out how to answer her question. "Nothing. They said they won't say anything until they find evidence.” The more she pondered the situation, the faster her heart raced, and her palms grew damp with perspiration. It almost felt like a betrayal of trust. These were people who had known you for years, yet they didn't hesitate to place you at the top of their list of suspects despite lacking any evidence.
Ellie's agitation was palpable as she paced back and forth, "So what if they don't find anything, hm?" she demanded, her frustration clear in her voice. "That's complete bullshit, Jesse—My wife… Why would they even think that?" Her voice was low and harsh, filled with a mix of outrage and defensiveness, Jesse visibly tensed at the harshness of her tone. “Just because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time? Well, guess what! It's nothing she can control. She simply happens to work at the diner, for fuck’s sake!" Her outburst reverberated off the walls of the small office, the frustration and anger practically tangible in the air as she forcefully slammed her hand down on the polished wooden desk.
Jesse gently but firmly placed his hands on Ellie's shoulders, his gaze locking with hers "Keep it quiet, dude. You tryna get both of us in trouble? I wasn't even supposed to tell you, but I thought you deserved to know," He hushed her, slightly shaking her to emphasize his point. He understood the sensitive nature of the situation, after all, they were not talking about any other girl. They were talking about Ellie's wife. Jesse's years as a police officer had taught him that stress management was key to handling these situations effectively, something Ellie seemed to lack sometimes.
Her green emeralds bored into his as she shook her head slowly, attempting to regain her composure. "Sorry," she sighed.
"Listen, there's nothing to worry about unless they find evidence." He reassured her in a soothing tone, releasing her shoulders.
"Well, I can assure you they won't find anything." She stated confidently, her tone still stern as her brows furrowed, and he nodded.
"I know. I know she has nothing to do with it." He truly couldn't wrap his head around it. How could they ever think someone like you had something to do with it? You were probably one of the kindest people he knew.
St. John's Health | Hospital – September 27th, 2018.
Eventually, the investigators turned their attention away from you, their focus shifting to the mysterious man you had described as the killer. There was no evidence whatsoever linking you to the brutal murder of Vanessa; why would you even harm someone you considered a friend? The text messages between you and your coworker revealed a purely friendly relationship, and there was no apparent motive for the crime. With no evidence to incriminate you, they dropped all suspects within three days. They all witnessed your evident grief when you discovered your friend’s lifeless body, shock and devastation overwhelming you, making them feel… off-track.
You stopped going to work, and even if you had the choice, there was no use; the diner remained shut, never to be reopened after the tragic accident, and the entire town of once quiet and peaceful community seemed unsettled and frightened by the series of murders that followed the diner accident. The once lively eatery now lay abandoned, a somber reminder of the tragedy that had befallen the town.
They had been trying everything, but the police found themselves chasing shadows. The one consistent detail from witnesses was the description of a man wearing a hood that covered his face, yet no one managed to catch a glimpse of his identity. So the authorities tried diligently interrogating individuals with a history of violence or abusive behavior, but each suspect appeared innocent, their alibis providing a strong defense, and none of them really fit the description.
Residents began locking themselves in at night, their evenings filled with unease and terror. Pretty soon, the killer and his murders became the main topic of conversation everywhere. It seemed like everyone was completely shaken up and fixated on the news surrounding the mysterious figure. Even the media jumped on the bandwagon, naming him the 'Shadow Killer,' a name that perfectly captured the eerie and unsettling nature of his attacks.
The baby's shrill cries and soft coos filled the hospital room as Jesse turned off the TV, muttering, "This shit’s crazy" under his breath. Ellie nodded in agreement, her gaze momentarily lingering on the news report before returning her focus to you, holding Dina's bundle of joy with love and care. The thought of having kids had never really crossed her mind, but something about seeing you with the baby, making silly faces to coax laughter out of him while rocking him gently, filled her with a desire to try and another type of desire.
She felt like building a family with you would complete her, despite having said that she considered you her everything and that she needed nothing else. While it was partially true, seeing your maternal instincts kicking in made her feel like everything clicked, like that was the final piece to your marriage and relationship—one she didn’t even know was missing.
A warm smile graced Ellie's face as she observed you interacting with JJ, gushing over the baby boy with a soft voice, claiming he was the most adorable thing you've ever set your eyes on.
“He's perfect, Dee,” you stated for the millionth time.
The brunette chuckled in response, jokingly telling you, “He's all yours.”
Jesse chimed in with a jest, bumping the shorter girl's shoulder “You're next,” earning a puzzled look from her. He cleared his throat and clarified, “First–they’re holding someone’s kid and next thing you know, they're asking for one.” Raising her scarred brows, Ellie scoffed at the teasing comment, but when her crystalline emeralds returned to you, she realized he wasn’t wrong. The sparkle in your eyes as you held the baby, a look that spoke volumes to your wife, who had known you for years. She could see the unmistakable signs of love and adoration on your face and she knew that sooner or later, you were going to bring it up.
She approached you, her heart melting under the warmth of your soft smile, peering over your shoulder to look at the pretty boy in your arms, “El, look at him,” you whispered, gently cradling JJ in your arms.
“He's got Jesse's eyes,” she remarked, studying the little one's features.
Jesse couldn't help but burst into laughter, correcting her playfully, “He looks Asian, you mean.” eliciting a burst of laughter from Ellie.
“Totally what I meant.” she retorted sarcastically.
"Dunno, looks like the baby from the Ice Age movie t'me"
Your Apartment – October 2nd, 2018.
Ever since that “fateful” night at the hospital, you became the only thought that occupied her mind. Sure, she was your wife, and it was supposed to be that way, but there was one specific thought that consumed every cell of her brain. You, pregnant. Pregnant with her baby, your tummy swelling with the precious life growing inside you and your skin radiating a warm, ethereal glow. It was something that played in her mind nonstop, especially during sex. Especially when she was rutting against your pussy.
The thought of your juices mingling together, the thought of filling you up with her essence, was something that didn't seem to want to leave her mind anytime soon. And she couldn't seem to keep her hands off of you, always finding excuses to touch you, caress you, grope you, or even grind against the push of your butt when you were most distracted with chores.
You noticed something inside her had shifted, and on the other hand, she felt like a middle schooler all over again, sex occupying her mind all night, all day like a horny teenager in their puberty. Almost as if she felt the need to claim you and make you entirely hers in every possible way. But you didn't mind. No, of course, you didn't. How could you when she was fucking you so good and hard? How could you mind it when she pounded into you until the early hours of the morning?
"So good with kids...so, so good," velvety murmurs caressed your sensitive skin, leaving a trail of intimate kisses along the length of your neck. You tilted your head, granting her even greater access to explore you. Her fiery, vibrant locks, reminiscent of autumn leaves, intertwined effortlessly with your fingers as you gently pulled her closer.
"Hmmm." A soft, muffled sound escaped your lips in response "Does that turn you on?" Your voice dropped to a hushed whisper, accompanied by a dreamy giggle that found its way to her ears, prompting a smile to grace her lips against your skin.
"Does that turn me on?" She echoed your words with a sultry tone; her voice saturated with desire as she intentionally ground against your thigh. Your hands swiftly drew her nearer, firmly grasping her by the waist, the tips of your fingers danced suggestively along the hem of her Calvin Klein boxers.
"I'll take that as a yes." A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you gently led her to grind against you once more, eliciting a gasp from her as your fingertips tightened on her buttocks. A delicate sigh fell from her lips, caressing you like a gentle breeze, her parched lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a tantalizing shiver down your spine.
"You'd be such a good mama" the words seemed to slip out of her mouth without conscious thought, tangled up in the web of her own fantasies that had been tormenting her for quite some time.
"You really think so?" Your voice was as silky as cotton, a stark contrast to the firm yet gentle grip of your hands on her hips as you guided her increasingly urgent motions against your thighs. Soft, languid moans poured against your neck, planting a trail of heated kisses along the length of your neck, her mouth working with a voracious appetite as she suckled on your sensitive skin like a starving bloodsucker, marking you. A low, sultry hum was all you received from her in response. Your nude skin pressed against her, her clad breasts grazing yours, her hardened nipples stimulating yours through the thin fabric of her black bralette.
"You should put a baby in me."
The words seemed to halt her in her tracks. She leaned back slightly, studying your expression intently, her gaze locking with yours. A playful twinkle danced in her eyes, and a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Amusement and surprise mixed in her freckled-dusted features. "Strip." with a soft but unyieldingly firm tone, her features utterly devoid of emotion except for the subtle arch of her brows, making you break into a fit of giggles.
"Oh? just like that?"
With fervent anticipation, you stripped off the remaining garments still clinging to your body, your eyes intensely fixated on the sight before you. The vision of her adorned in the black strap, one of the numerous items you and your wife possessed, never failed to make your pussy clench, leaving your stomach in knots. Such a luscious spectacle. And you were the lucky girl who got to witness all this. Your body sank into the plush embrace of the mattress as you watched her gracefully position herself between your legs, straddling them. With a tender squeeze of your knee, her other hand gently pressed the tip of the silicone toy against your sensitive nub, sending an electric jolt of pressure through you. The unexpected sensation, even in its softness, coaxed a squirming response from you, your hips instinctively trying to pull away.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured, the tip of her cock rubbing through your folds, her slender fingers coating and preparing her silicone dick with your slickness. She groaned softly, lost in the alluring haze of her own touch, almost as if the toy were an extension of herself “It’s so pathetic how much of a slut you are for me.” Her actions prompted a whimper to escape your lips.
“Fuck you, stop teasing,” you retorted, tinged with a mix of annoyance and desperation, betraying the aching desire that consumed you. The sight of your drenched and soaked pussy made Ellie almost salivate, feeling eager to destroy it and make a mess of you. She loved knowing that even after years of being together your desire for her was burning as fierce as ever. You had never once failed to make her feel wanted, and how could you when she was simply this fine?
A dry, mirthless chuckle slipped out from between her lips as a self-satisfied smirk adorned her features. The soft moonlight delicately highlighted her cheekbones, enhancing her already stunning appearance and making her seem as if she were personally blessed by the moon herself “What, can’t handle a little teasing?” she responded with a playful taunt, she felt her own arousal growing, the back of her strap dampened with her own slickness, feeling a desperate need of friction.
“This is not teasing, you’re just being a little bitch” you pouted, your body arching eagerly as your pussy sought the sensation of her cock stretching you so amazingly. As she abruptly thrust forward, a high-pitched squeal was wrenched from your lips, and your breath caught in your throat. Her expression was a mask of amusement, witnessing your visceral reaction to her every touch, a reminder of the power she held over you.
“What were you saying? Didn't quite catch the last part,” With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she taunted you, her hands gently claiming your hips as she leaned down, her gaze taking in every angle of your contorted face.
“I said-” You attempted to speak once more, but another plunging thrust stole the breath from your lungs, leaving you speechless.
“Yeah, said what?”
“Hmmpphh.” You could feel her going deeper into you, your eyes shut close and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, arching into her, she looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, licking her lips before pressing damp kisses on your jawline and your throat, savoring all the pretty moans and whimpers you gave her.
"So pretty," she murmured, a note of possessiveness lacing her words, "And mine. All mine." She captured your lips in a passionate and messy kiss, her tongue tangling with yours as she continued to slide in and out of you, each movement causing you to moan into the kiss, and she gladly swallowed each one of them. You had taken such meticulous care of her, preparing her meals, doing the laundry, and handling the household chores with diligence that she just felt the need to reciprocate and fuck you as you deserved.
Such a good fucking housewife, she couldn't ask for better.
“Babe, fuuuck,” You cried out, your brows drawing together as her pace intensified. Your breath caught in your throat, and your body writhed in response.
“Want me to get you pregnant you said, yeah?” With a strained, breathy voice, she whispered, each movement meticulously targeted to hit the exact spot inside you that made sparks fly behind your eyelids and your toes curl. You nodded eagerly, a chorus of whimpers and whines escaping your lips “Then you’ll have to take my cock as deep as you can–want you to feel it all the way up in your womb.” she grunted, pushing the strap in as deep as it could go, feeling your walls clench around it. “But you’ll be a good girl and take it, won’t you?” she purred, her lips leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your collarbone and down the valley between your breasts. Unable to form a coherent sentence, all you could manage was an enthusiastic nod in response, which was clearly not enough for her. A slap was delivered to the sensitive flesh of your thigh, causing you to squeak in surprise “Words, mama.” She demanded, completely captivated by your heavenly expressions and the bouncing of your tits.
“Y-yes… ’ll be good,” you babbled out incoherently; the sinful sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room. Each movement, each touch perfectly calculated, your body writhing with each thrust.
“Mmm, fucking love how you take it.” She whispered, her breath coming in shallow huffs as her tongue and teeth worked their magic on one of your sensitive nubs, drawing out strained whimpers from you. Your fingers coiled in her hair, craving the closeness and seeking an anchor in the sea of pleasure that swelled between your legs. Your cunt wrapped around her so perfectly, and she had your legs shaking like crazy—that’s how she knew you were close.
“Gonna fill you up so good, baby.” whispering filthy promises into your ear, leaning back and burying all her length inside your womb, the tip of her fake cock rubbing your g-spot deliciously, making your eyes roll in the back of your head as she ground against the base of the strap, desperately chasing her own pleasure.
“Need your babies, pleaseplease…cum inside me,” you whined, the words catching in your throat as you gasped for breath, wrapping your legs around her waist with an urgent need to keep her close, both of your throbbing clits grinding against the base of her strap.
“Fuckfuck..’m coming.” Ellie’s grunts grew louder, a guttural melody that echoed in your ears. Her head arched back, the muscles in her body trembling and tensing as she slammed her dick inside you, urging you to cum with her
“Ellie, fuuuck.” Your body rocked wildly against hers, the movement becoming erratic as the heel of your foot pressed firmly into her glutes, trapping her between your soft thighs as waves of pleasure coursed through you. Sweet and breathy mewls escaped your swollen lips, your back arching into her almost painfully.
Dr. Diaz was right after all, you just needed to try new things with your wife, explore your fantasies with her.
Typically, she made you feel so good, and you gladly reciprocated the pleasure she gave you, but tonight, the tables had turned. She was solely fixated on making you feel loved and worshiped, determined to pull a fifth orgasm from your worn-out body. Your legs shook uncontrollably, and your core ached from the relentless onslaught of overstimulation, and she showed no signs of slowing down or stopping anytime soon. Your arms were pinned firmly behind your back, the cold, hard steel of the handcuffs digging into the delicate skin of your wrists with a biting force. You twitched and writhed involuntarily, the restrictive hold making you feel helpless and vulnerable; it was driving you insane. It was Ellie's idea, and you cursed yourself for agreeing to try something new.
“Babe, please…let me touch you.” A pathetic whine escaped your lips, quickly followed by a guttural whimper as her calloused hands skillfully controlled your every move. You were growing more desperate each second, yearning to play with those perky tits just lying there, right beneath you. They looked so lonely and neglected, it was such a shame. Rough palms find purchase on the softness of your hips, adjusting and re-adjusting your position to her liking. You struggled vainly against the cuffs, trying to squirm free, but the tight binds held strong, leaving you utterly at her mercy. You couldn’t move, and if you could, you know she wouldn’t let you. You were hers, hers to fuck and destroy like a doll.
A mischievous grin spread across her features, a mixture of pride and amusement, knowing she was the cause of your current state, leaving you deliciously wrecked, her darkened eyes fixed on the milky white ring encircling the base of the black strap, your wetness coating her. “Thought you said you wanted me to fuck a baby into you?” Her voice was husky and strained, the words escaping her lips in a gravelly purr that seemed to vibrate through your very core, your walls squeezing her cock almost to trap her inside.
“I do,” you choked out. “Ellie, please,” you were so fucking desperate. Ridiculously desperate to play with her nipples, touch her, perhaps wrap your hand around her neck, something that she seemed to enjoy, but what she was enjoying the most was the helpless expressions on your face as you looked down at her, pouting. You were always needy and she could easily put you in your place, but this needy? She was sure she had never seen you this desperate. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t touch her, and she was forcing you to ride her because you needed to earn ‘it.’ You needed to earn her babies, needed to earn her cum inside you. In all honesty, it was just a fucking excuse, and who could blame her? the sight of you riding her strap like a fucking pornstar with your hands handcuffed behind your back was everything, it was all she needed.
“C’mon ma, ride me like you always do. Don’t you want me to fill that pretty pussy of yours, hm?” As your hips started to move, taking her in inch by inch, a dry chuckle escaped her throat, her gaze flicking up to meet your pretty tits as they bounced in her face “Just like that…good giiirl,” the praise dripping with saccharine sweetness mingling with the slick, wet sounds of your pussy, the echoes of your moans and breathless gasps filling the room like a lewd harmony. “Needa work for it, princess,” Ellie says, her hands leaving your hips and finding a new home on your boobs; her thumbs danced across your hardened nubs, teasing and flicking them with a ruthless skill that caused you to writhe and squirm in her hands.
“Please, p-please,” you managed to croak out, begging and pleading for her to fill you up with her babies as if she could. You gasped and whined when the black tip of her strap kissed your cervix, going deeper into your womb.
“Take every inch of it, baby,” her words flowed like liquid heat against the delicate shell of your ear as you collapsed into her embrace, completely consumed by her slow yet harsh thrusts, your eyes fluttering shut in blissful surrender.
“Ahhhh-” you gasped helplessly.
“Gonna be such a perfect mama,” She growled, her palms eagerly squeezing your ass before delivering a sharp smack that drew a startled yelp from you.
“Cum inside me,” you quaked into the crook of her shoulder, warm puffs of your breath caressing her freckled skin.
“You dirty little slut, you like that, don’t you?” She let out a husky chuckle, her hand delivering another sharp spank before her firm grip found purchase on your hips, running up and down your soft skin as she guided your movements.
“Mmmhhmmm” you adjusted your position and began to slowly bounce on her cock, ensuring her clit rubbed against the base of the toy, your movements deliberately aimed at eliciting a response from her. Your gaze locked onto the contours of her stomach, entranced by the way each muscle contracted with each painful roll of your hips, causing her breath to hitch in her throat, her chest rising and falling in sharp pants. The soft freckles scattered across her cheeks standing out vividly against the rosy hue, sweat trickled down her scarred brow, mingling with strands of baby hair that clung to her damp skin.
“Look at your fucking—god… your fucking cunt, taking every inch of…hmmm… me” And oh, how absolutely mesmerizing she was when she was right where you wanted her. The epitome of perfection, a fantasy that surely haunted the dreams of many.
“Please, El… wanna cum with you.” You couldn't help the plaintive and slutty whine that slipped past your lips, her breath stuttered and grew ragged, and her hands, firm and sure, set a rhythm on your hips, expertly guiding you with a purpose. Her own slickness soaked the pastel blue cotton sheets beneath her. Your hazy, half-lidded eyes met hers, “Close?” Your voice came out weak and breathless as you looked down at her, your pace quickening as you ground against her desperately. She nodded frenetically; you could feel your climax approaching like a crashing wave, and you desperately bit down on your bottom lip to muffle the whimpers that threatened to escape, knowing it wouldn't be much longer before you came again.
She steadied you with each languid roll of your hips, selfishly using you to get off. Each motion a perfect counterpoint to her own, and you could feel sweat dripping down your bare back.
"Hmmm...I love when you're inside me"
That was all it took. In a single fluid motion, she pulled you closer, sealing her lips against yours in a kiss that was more desperate and unhinged than any before it, coming simultaneously and swallowing every sweet sound you gave her.
Finally, as you came back down to Earth, you collapsed onto her, your handcuffed hands still immobile behind your back.
"It’s okay, pretty, I gotchu," she says, her voice raw and raspy from the intensity of her orgasm. She reached for the keys to the cuffs on the bedside table. You slowly sat up, the toy still nestling comfortably inside you, and she released your wrists from their tight embrace, allowing you to massage the sensitive, bruised skin with a tender touch. With a weary but satisfied sigh, you slowly extricate yourself from her, leaving behind a trail of your essence covering her whole length. You collapsed onto the soft sheets beside her, and she swiftly discarded the strap somewhere on the floor. You snuggled closer to her, your body molding against hers as you kissed her cheek tenderly. Her lips curled upwards in a contented smile, and she gently pulled you on top of her, holding you close in her strong embrace.
“Did so good, princess. I love you.” She placed a gentle kiss on the crown of your head, her heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears as you lay snuggled against her bare chest.
“I love you more,” you echoed back softly.
"Don't forget to leave a 5 star review on the app for the ride-" you couldn't help but erupt into a fit of laughter, your body shaking softly as you gazed up at her.
"God, you're so embarrassing." You gave her arm a playful slap, a grin still spread across your face as you both laughed together.
"Yet you're still riding my cock." Her eyebrows arched upwards, a cocky smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Only because I have to." You rolled your eyes at her
"It’s not like you're being held at gunpoint—fuck me or I'll shoot you. Pew pew," she aimed and fired at imaginary enemies with her fingers.
"I'm dating a fucking kid." You let out a dramatic sigh, feigning disappointment but unable to keep a smile from forming on your lips
“And that makes you a what?” She retorted sarcastically, arching a single brow at you with a smug expression on her face.
“Okay” you replied with a deadpan, “I think it’s your bedtime,” you added in a fake serious tone, making her giggle.
“Nooo, I wanna snuggle,” she groaned in mock protest, her lips pouting as she pulled you closer.
The two of you embraced each other, intertwining your limbs as you whispered sweet nothings to one another. The soft hum of the TV filled the air around you, and the cool night air from the open window sent chills down your spine. Both of you gently lulled into a peaceful slumber.
"This is a news flash update! We have received news of yet another fatal stabbing, this time in a local motel. A 25-year-old woman was found dead in her room, brutally stabbed to death. This is the third murder reported in the last month, causing a great deal of panic and concern amongst the town's inhabitants. Police investigations are currently underway, and residents are advised to take caution and keep their doors and windows locked at all times. Now over to our reporter on the scene for further details."
Your Apartment – October 19th, 2018.
Holding Dina's baby for the first time in the hospital was an experience that felt more like signing a contract with an invisible ink pen. You hadn't realized it then, but the moment your arms cradled JJ's tiny, warm body, you became an integral part of his life and his babysitter whenever the couple was too busy or needed some peace. The trust Dina placed in you was immediate and profound, and you were the first person she called when she needed someone reliable to watch over her precious baby potato.
And how could you ever say no? JJ was an angel wrapped in soft blankets, with eyes that sparkled with curiosity and a giggle that could melt even the hardest of hearts made of stone. Sure, he had his moments of frustration, his small fists clenching in tantrums every now and then, but those were fleeting storms in an otherwise sunny disposition. Most of the time, JJ was a remarkably well-behaved child, a rarity in the world of toddlers.
His tiny hands would reach out for you, his laughter echoing like a sweet melody in the air, filling your apartment. The way he looked at you with pure, unfiltered trust made every impromptu babysitting session feel less like an obligation and more like a cherished opportunity, something you truly enjoyed. And in all honesty, after the diner you worked at was shut, looking after JJ was something that kept you busy and distracted. And a distraction is always nice.
"I'll come pick him up at… is 11 too late?" Jesse asked tentatively, gently rocking his son in his arms. He looked down at JJ, shooting a few silly grins that made the baby gurgle with delight.
You shook your head profusely, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "Absolutely not. You know I'm a night owl," you reminded him with a gentle smile. Your eyes softened as you extended your arms, ready to cradle the potato-shaped boy.
Jesse handed JJ over, his small weight settling comfortably against you. You could feel the warmth of his tiny body through his onesie, the baby-soft skin of his tiny hand brushing against your cheek as you adjusted him in your arms. His dad's shoulders relaxed, knowing his son was in safe hands. "Thanks, you're a lifesaver," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. You simply smiled, looking down at JJ, who was now cooing contentedly, his little hand grasping your finger with surprising strength.
"Anytime," you replied softly, feeling a swell of affection for the tiny being in your arms. His chubby cheeks and his cute tiny hands were the most adorable things in the world. Who was gonna tell Ellie that you wanted a kid now?
“Dina really needs to rest, and I can’t be there to help because of work.” You nodded, feeling bad for the brunette, knowing she was home alone with her son most of the time.
"Tell Dina I said hi," you added as Jesse adjusted his uniform jacket.
"Will do—Ellie's gonna get off her shift at 3 AM," he informed you, his voice tinged with fatigue but still warm, the bags under his eyes said it all; becoming a parent surely wasn’t a walk in the park.
You nodded at his words, then suddenly remembered something. "Oh wait—I almost forgot!" Your eyes widened as you turned your back, hurrying to retrieve a small bag from the kitchen. You returned to the front door, holding the bag out to Jesse, who was now leaning casually against the door frame.
"Oh! What would she do without you?" he exclaimed in a teasing manner, deep down finding the gesture sweet and thoughtful. It was endearing how you always looked after your wife, preparing her meals while she worked tirelessly at the police station, ensuring she wouldn't skip the most important part of the day and that she was well-nourished.
You chuckled at his words. "What would you do without me, actually," you corrected him with a playful smile. "Two chicken sandwiches, one for you, one for her, no tomatoes for you. There's some apples and a few chocolate bars, too,"
Jesse swiftly grabbed the paper bag from your hand and peeked inside. "You're amazing," he said with a grin on his face. "Hope JJ won't be too much trouble," he added, his chocolate eyes shifting to his son in your arms.
"I'll be fine—be careful, alright?" you warned him, your tone turning slightly serious.
He nodded, appreciating your concern. "Always am. See you at 11," he said, turning around to walk away from your doorstep, the bag of food swinging gently at his side.
You spent the whole evening with JJ, you dedicated your time to caring for the baby boy. You carefully prepared his meal and then proceeded to give him a relaxing bubble bath, hoping the latter would make him somewhat sleepy and ready to go to bed. Little plastic ducks floating on the surface add a whimsy touch to the whole scene. Suddenly, your phone rang, breaking the peaceful atmosphere. With JJ cradled in the bathtub, you quickly reached for your phone, ensuring your free hand was dry after patting it with the folded towel placed conveniently within your reach.
“El?”
“Hi baby,” her warm and affectionate voice flowed through the speaker; you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and joy.
A soft smile graced your lips, “Hey gorgeous,” your voice was filled with a playful tone, and the sound of Mr. Potato giggling could be heard in the background.
Her voice was husky as she asked, “How’s it going?”
“Oh, y’know, just giving stinky-boy a bath.” The endearing nickname that escaped your lips elicited an uncontrollable, joyous laughter from the pretty boy. Despite being just a baby, his insatiable curiosity and discerning intelligence were truly impressive, definitely something he hadn’t inherited from his dad. The infectious giggle emanating from the baby brought a warm chuckle from auburnette. “How’s it going for you?” you took the chance to ask back.
“Jus’ stuck with paperwork while Jesse gets all the fun tasks.” Her dry lips parted slightly, releasing a barely audible, airy exhale. “Sucks you’re not here with me,” she added
“Sounds pretty homophobic if you ask me,” You quipped with a charming grin, though she couldn't see it. “Should be sitting on your lap right now.” Ellie let out a low sigh, her breath hitching as your words sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. You knew it didn't take much to get her worked up, and perhaps it was the memories from last night that made her even more susceptible to your tease
“Yeah. I’ll be home in four hours.” A soft huff escaped her lips, a subtle sign of her growing impatience and yearning for your touch
“I knowwww,” You drawled, switching your phone to speaker mode as you carefully lifted JJ out of the bath and wrapped him snugly in a warm, fluffy towel. Soft giggles and coos echoed through the room, “I’ll stay up for you,” you told her
“You must be tired, you should go to bed earl-”
“No,” you adamantly insisted, your tone unyielding “I miss you”
“Miss you too,” she responded swiftly, her tone matching yours
“See you soon?”
“Alright, mama, I'll see you soon.” she exhaled. “The sandwich was delicious, by the way,” Ellie adds, gratitude resonating in her words
A proud grin spread across your face as you replied cockily, “You’re welcome,” savoring the compliment on your cooking skills. She had always appreciated it immensely when you cooked for her, and she never wasted a chance to lavish compliments on your culinary skills. God, if she loved you more than anything.
“Love you.”
“Love you.” And with that, you ended the call.
You couldn't help but gaze adoringly at the little burrito in your arms, wrapped up in a beautiful pastel blue towel. The tranquil, content expression on his face spoke volumes of his relaxed state, a peaceful lull radiating from his tiny form. “Daddy’s gonna pick you up soon, let’s get dressed, yeah?” you cooed affectionately, tracing the bridge of his little nose with your index finger, inciting a gummy grin from the cutie as he batted his long lashes at you. You retrieved the bag Jesse had left at your place a few days ago, it was crammed with everything a baby might require and a few extra outfits for JJ. You changed him into a charming giraffe-patterned pjs and wrapped him cozily in a small blanket. Just as you finished, the doorbell rang, signaling Jesse's arrival.
“Howdy!” Jesse stood at your door, visibly exhausted. Wordlessly, you gestured for him to enter the disorganized apartment. His weary eyes immediately settled on the baby in your arms, noting how JJ's eyelids appeared heavy and threatened to flutter shut at any moment. The newborn had been keeping him and Dina up for nights on end, and on top of that, his demanding job had further drained his energy. The stress was evident in his drawn features, making it clear that the past few days had taken a toll on him.
“He was an angel,” you softly told him with a gentle smile.
“Oh really?” his voice held a hint of amusement as he raised his brows in disbelief, marveling at how your description of JJ as a 'complete angel' contradicted his own experience. He couldn't tell if his little one was behaving so well out of genuine good nature or if you were exaggerating the truth a bit cause he could sure be a little troublemaker with him and Dina. “Glad he wasn’t much of a fuss,” he chuckled tiredly.
“I already gave him a bath and all; he’s ready for bed,” you informed him, and he nodded in acknowledgment.
“Thank you, y/n. I owe you one.” A weary sigh escaped his lips. “Mind if I go to the toilet real quick?” he asked.
“No, sure. go ahead”
A subtle change in Jesse's demeanor was evident as he reappeared moments later. His eyes flickered away from yours, and a tense, forced smile adorned his face, giving the impression that something was troubling him.
“You good?” You questioned him, carefully placing the sleeping bean in his arms to avoid waking the little one. A hint of concern tinged your voice as you attempted to discern the reason behind his anxious demeanor. He was fine just a minute ago.
“Yeah, yeah. just tired, is all,” he responded evasively, leaving you to raise an eyebrow in skepticism, but you decided not to dwell on it.
He must be tired, you thought.
Jesse tenderly held his son, cradling him in his strong, protective arms “Thank you again for watching over him”
“I told you, it’s no bother, he’s such a cute kid,” You responded fondly, gently caressing the baby boy's soft, round cheek as he rested contentedly in his father's embrace.
“Alright, have a good night,” he gave you a faint smile
“You too, Jess.” You remained at the doorstep, leaning against it as you watched him leave, his silhouette gradually fading from sight.
When Jesse returned home, he cautiously unlocked the front door, cradling a sleeping JJ in his arm. As he entered, his gaze fell upon Dina, softly snoring on the couch, her mouth slightly parted in peaceful slumber. He watched her for a moment, a tender smile on his lips as he appreciated the sight. Closing the door gently so as not to wake her, he approached her, his footsteps silent on the floor. Seeing her there, asleep as she had waited for him, filled him with warmth and love.
“Honey, I’m home”
The Police station – October 27th, 2018.
Jesse rubbed his eyes with the rough palms of his hands, longing to be home with his family. He absorbed the animated discussions among his colleagues, who were fervently speculating about the identity of the elusive killer. With no substantial evidence to support their theories, their efforts felt akin to chasing a phantom. The killer had a remarkable ability to erase all traces, executing each action with meticulous precision.
“What if he's not left-handed and is good with both hands?” As one of the individuals engaged in the discussion took a contemplative sip of his steaming coffee, Jesse's gaze meandered over to the clock adorning the pristine white brick wall.
2:26 AM.
He should be home, in his bed.
He continued to endure the ceaseless barrage of hypothetical scenarios conjured up by his colleagues. Normally, they wouldn't have been included in such sensitive investigations, but they were frustrated and exhausted from pursuing an elusive individual who appeared to never make any mistakes. There had to be something, but no. No fucking slip-ups.
“The slit starts from right to left, meaning he slayed the first victim—Vanessa—using his left hand,” The woman in her forties leaned back in her swivel office chair, gesturing towards the raw pictures they had taken of the first victim as she explained the details to her coworker.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t add up—Giselle Caddel,” he countered by swiftly sifting through additional files and photographs to substantiate his theory. “See? Left to right.” he softly tapped his index finger on the images and the text printed on the pages that held every necessary information.
The woman let out a frustrated sigh and absentmindedly hummed to herself as she examined the pictures and the papers for the millionth time “Okay, maybe he is dominant with both hands,” she conceded, agreeing with his hypothesis. But again, it didn't make sense how the third victim had been brutalized, shot with an unknown weapon, leaving them with more questions than answers. The lack of registration for the gun only deepened the mystery, leaving them lost on how to proceed.
“Why do we assume we're going after a guy?” Jesse suddenly spoke up, drawing puzzled looks from all his colleagues, who had nearly forgotten he was even there. They gazed at him with a mixture of confusion and surprise, unsure if they had just heard something absurd or brilliant. He couldn't discern the thoughts racing through their minds. But he couldn't help but wonder… was it truly inconceivable for a woman to be capable of committing such a brutal act of violence?
“What are you implying?” dirty blonde brows arched inquisitively, crossing her arms over her chest.
“What if it’s a woman we should be looking for?” he elaborated
“A woman?” She responded with a mix of surprise and mock disbelief, her voice laced with a hint of humor. “Everyone claims they’ve seen a man at each crime scene before the murders occurred,”
“But they’ve never seen ‘his’ face, have they?” He replied with heavy sarcasm, making air quotes while emphasizing the word 'his.'
“Ma’am, we don’t have proof that it is a man,” another coworker pondered the situation and concurred with Jesse's theory.
“He’s too brutal, too raw, too strong. A woman can’t be that strong,” she stated, still skeptical. The detective's thoughts raced through possible motives for the brutal murders. It was difficult to fathom how the female perpetrator could commit such heinous crimes without any apparent remorse. Could there be a common connection between the victims, such as… a shared romantic history with the same individual? The officer's mind was filled with questions, struggling to understand the motivations behind the cold-hearted acts. she pondered, the sinister theory making her stomach turn uncomfortably.
“Adrenaline has that effect on everyone,” he stood his ground, refusing to back down from his idea. The room went silent as the towering blonde woman abruptly stood, drawing a deep breath of air into her lungs.
“You might be onto something,” she declared firmly, her voice carrying a hint of authority. Without further elaboration, she turned and strode out of the investigation room, leaving the officers to grapple with the weight of her words.
He leaned back, feeling the tension ease slightly as she disappeared from view. Perhaps, just perhaps, they were finally on the right track. But even then, uncertainty lingered in the air. They needed tangible evidence, something concrete to confirm their suspicions.
Jesse’s House – November 6th, 2018.
The chill of the night still lingered in the air as Jesse's eyes snapped open, his breath quickening as remnants of a brutal nightmare clung to his consciousness. A sense of disorientation washed over him, but he quickly gathered his bearings, the familiar sights of his surroundings grounding him back to reality.
He was home, he was safe. He mentally reassured himself
Turning his head ever so slightly, he beheld the tranquil scene before him. Dina lay peacefully beside him, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm, a serene expression adorning her sleeping face. JJ, nestled between them, let out a soft snore, blissfully unaware of the world around him, tiny hands curled into fists.
With utmost care, Jesse shifted, his movements slow and deliberate as he extracted himself from the warmth of the duvet. The soft material whispered against his skin, a comforting presence in the quiet of the night. As he sat up, a sense of protectiveness washed over him, a silent vow to safeguard the fragile tranquility of the moment. Every rustle of fabric, every creak of the bed frame was muffled by the hush of the night, a sacred stillness enveloping the room like a cocoon. Jesse's gaze lingered on the precious sight before him, the love he felt for his family swelling within his chest; he felt so grateful for them, he would've done anything for them.
He lovingly tucked his wife into bed, her arm instinctively reaching for him in her sleep, seeking the warmth of his presence as it slowly slipped away. Jesse quietly padded to the kitchen, the soft sound of his footsteps barely audible in the stillness of the night. Glancing at the clock, he noticed the time and let out an exhausted sigh, the back of his hand moving to wipe the beads of sweat from his forehead. Opening the cupboards, he reached for a glass, the cool touch of it bringing a sense of relief as he filled it with fresh water, his mouth feeling as dry as the Sahara desert.
It was only 4 AM.
He quickly downed the glass of water, the cool liquid quenching his thirst, before placing it on the granite countertop. This was his usual routine. He was fortunate if he managed to get four hours of sleep, but more often than not, it was only three before he would wake up, haunted by vivid nightmares of the killer, unable to fall back asleep.
As he strolled his way to the living room, he couldn’t help but notice the pillows strewn across the floor and JJ’s countless plush toys scattered in every corner. Dina had a habit of showering JJ with toys, much to Jesse’s bemusement. He didn't need all those toys; a few were sufficient, and most of them were left unused. There was one particular elephant plush that caught the baby boy's attention. He seemed to be incredibly attached to it, never leaving it alone, carrying it around everywhere, and if he ever misplaced it, he would throw a tantrum until Dina found it.
The living room bore silent witness to their daily chaos. JJ’s little kingdom, with plush animals ranging from lions to bears, was a vibrant display of color against the muted tones of the furniture. Jesse picked up a few toys, absentmindedly placing them back in their basket.
He sank into the worn, stained couch, feeling the dampness of the fabric from the water JJ had accidentally spilled earlier. The gentle, barely perceptible hum of the refrigerator filled the air, creating a soothing backdrop to the faint sounds of the city beginning to stir from its slumber. He leaned back, his thoughts drifting. Those were the moments when his mind just wouldn't stop buzzing with thoughts. The relentless pursuit of a cunning killer had started to weigh heavily on his mind, leaving him feeling utterly powerless.
He felt like he was letting everyone down–his family, Dina. It absolutely infuriated him that he couldn't do more to protect them. Especially now that JJ had arrived, his paternal instincts seemed to kick in and his desire to protect his family had intensified, amplifying the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He let his eyes drift aimlessly around the room until they settled on his laptop resting on the scarred coffee table. It was at that moment that a sudden realization popped into his mind.
The missing hard disk.
Jesse’s mind raced as he remembered that day, the rush of events blending together in a haze. He had been at your place and gone to the toilet when he spotted the hard disk tucked away on a shelf. Something about it had struck him as odd. It wasn’t just any brand; it was the exact match to the equipment used at the crime scene. His heart skipped a beat when he realized the potential importance of what he had stumbled upon. He was sure it was just a coincidence 'cause why would you have it? Why would you be possibly hiding it?
It didn't make sense.
He wasn’t proud of slipping it into his pocket, a pang of guilt gnawing at him for doubting you even for a second and for stealing from you. But his instincts told him it was something worth looking into. Now, as he sat there on the couch, the memory of that discovery resurfaced with a new urgency. Something seemed to scream at him to check it, go through all the files, if it had any. So, he got up to grab it from his desk drawers in the small room that Dina had turned into a cozy office just for her husband. It was his own little space, off-limits to everyone else.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, the late-night quiet amplifying the soft clicks as he navigated through files. His hands slightly trembled as he connected the drive to the laptop. The screen flickered to life, and he began sifting through its contents. The hard disk had been gathering dust in his desk drawer for weeks, forgotten in the whirlwind of everyday life. But now, the potential it held was too significant to ignore. What secrets did it hold? What answers might it provide in the tangled web of this investigation?
With a deep breath, he clicked on the first file, hoping it would shine a light on the darkness they had been chasing for so long.
The last files were recorded the same day of the murder.
Jackpot.
He eagerly clicked on the very last file, skipping through a few hours, fast-forwarding past the mundane bustle of customers and staff. His eyes were glued to the timestamp, searching for the crucial moment. The diner’s atmosphere, usually so lively, felt eerie and heavy through the security camera's lens as if it held its breath for the impending doom.
Minutes ticked by in a blur of motion, the clock on the screen edging closer to the time he knew everything changed. Jesse’s fingers ghosted over the keys, ready to pause at any sign of something unusual. The familiar faces of regulars came and went, oblivious to the dark shadow about to come.
And then, there it was. The whole truth.
He watched the video, his eyes never leaving your grainy silhouette. The footage played out silently, no audio, no nothing. He saw the woman with the kid leave the diner, and Vanessa picking up the tip from the table as you stayed behind the counter. His heart pounded in his chest, the anticipation gnawing at him.
Moments later, the mysterious man walked in, his face obscured by a hood, just as you had described. Jesse's pulse quickened, a sense of foreboding creeping up his spine, "There he is..." he mumbled to himself. The man's movements were deliberate, his presence unsettling even through the grainy footage.
When the man left, Jesse's focus shifted back to Vanessa as she walked into the back room. You swiftly made your way to the front door, turning the sign to ‘closed’ and locking the doors with a practiced motion. His eyes followed you intensely as you walked back behind the counter, your actions precise and unwavering.
There was something almost poetic in the way you moved, a quiet determination that made his breath hitch. He watched as you retrieved a knife, the gleaming blade catching the dim light of the diner. With a sense of purpose, you followed Vanessa into the back room.
"No, no, no, no," he kept whispering over and over again, like some sort of prayer.
Jesse's mind raced, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together—it all felt surreal, as if he were watching a scene from a movie rather than real life.
The footage left him cold and shaking to the core. He felt a knot in his stomach. How could the woman he once knew as a kind-hearted soul be a serial killer? How could he have trusted a killer, a psychopath, all along? Fear rippled through his veins as he realized the danger he had exposed his son and wife to. He knew he had to act to bring this evidence to his team, but he needed to get Ellie first.
She needed to get out of that goddamn house immediately.
Without a moment to spare, he grabbed his jacket and his gun and swiftly left his home. He then drove hastily to Ellie's place, frantically calling her repeatedly, but she never picked up even though he was sure she was off her shift and definitely home.
“Ellie? Fuck, Ellie, answer your fucking phone! You home yet? You need to get out of there, man. Pleas-” His voice quivered, his clammy hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. His nerves were palpable as fear and anxiety coursed through his veins
“Please, if you’re listening to this, get out of that fucking house, don’t tell y/n anything. She’s not who you think she is. She is extremely dangerous. Call me ba-” Jesse's frustration heightened as the beep signified the end of the voicemail, “FUCK” he shouted, slamming his hand onto the steering wheel.
Your Apartment, 5:06 AM – November 6th, 2018.
When he finally arrived at the apartment building, he quickly bounded towards the door, rapping against it frantically. Ellie opened the door, a puzzled expression on her face. Jesse sighed, relief washing over him as he saw Ellie safe and sound.
“My fucking god, are you–are you alright?” his tone was agitated as he spoke, though Ellie appeared confused, chuckling softly in response.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, scarred brows arched in confusion as she struggled to comprehend the reason behind her friend's agitated demeanor, making an unexpected appearance at her doorstep at such an ungodly hour
“Look, we gotta go, you’re not safe” He urgently grabbed her arm, attempting to forcefully pull her out of her house but she was quick to snatch her arm away from his grasp, her annoyance evident.
Surprise, concern, and annoyance colored Ellie's face as she exclaimed, “What’s gotten into you, dude?”
Your wife is a serial killer, he wanted to shout at her, exposing you for the monster you were, but he knew better. He knew that Ellie would struggle to believe him if he presented it bluntly, attacking what she cared about the most, so he needed to tread carefully and it felt like walking on legos, not even eggshells. He couldn’t risk Ellie getting mad at him or, even worse–shutting the door in his face. If something happened to her, the guilt would haunt him forever.
“You have an idea of what time it is?” Her emeralds darted towards the clock on the living room wall for a brief second—nearly 5 am.
“Look, we don’t have time for-” he began to speak, suddenly struck silent as his friend turned around for a fleeting moment “Is y/n home?” He inquired with a concerned expression, his complexion noticeably paler than usual. His hands trembled as he nervously peered over Ellie's shoulder, desperate to catch a glimpse of you, but the auburnette blocked his way, shaking her head.
“No, why?” Her voice was calm and composed, a stark contrast to his agitated and tumultuous tone
“I’ve been calling you, where the fuck is your phone?”
“It died,” she responded curtly, running her fingers through her hair, a thoughtful expression crossing her face, lips pressing together. “Wanna explain to me what the fuck are you on?” her hands were firmly placed on her hips; her attentive eyes fixated on Jesse's agitated state—the furrowed brows, clenched fists, and the restlessness emanating from him. Pretty unusual.
“We need to go; I’ll explain everything on the way,” his voice tinged with a mix of desperation and urgency that Ellie had never heard from him. He tugged at her sweatshirt, but she didn't budge, retreating a step backward, distancing herself from him. She let out a deep sigh before reluctantly acquiescing to his request.
“Let me get my stuff first,” she said, disappearing inside, leaving his restless figure waiting on the doorstep.
He waited and waited and waited, the minutes stretching into what felt like an eternity. With each passing second, a gnawing sense of unease began to take hold. "Ellie?" he called out impatiently, his voice slicing through the silence, but there was no response.
"Ellie?" he tried again, louder this time, the name echoing eerily through the empty apartment. Still nothing. He let out a shaky exhale, feeling the tension coil tighter in his chest. His hand hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open wider, revealing more of the still and silent space. "Fuck," he mumbled under his breath, his pulse quickening. Reaching for his gun, he stepped inside cautiously, every sense on high alert.
The living room was eerily quiet, devoid of any signs of life. He moved through it slowly, each step deliberate and measured. His eyes scanned the room, searching for any clue, any hint of where his friend might be. Nothing. His gaze flickering to the pictures hanging on the wall, captured moments of joy and celebration, memories of your wedding day, now seeming almost like relics from another lifetime.
“...Ellie?” he called out again, his voice softer now, almost a plea. The word hung in the air, unanswered, as he continued his careful sweep of the apartment. He checked the kitchen and the bathroom—his mind raced with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. It was as if Ellie had simply vanished into thin air. His grip tightened on the gun, the cold metal reassuring in his hand, the silence almost oppressive, pressing in on him from all sides.
Just as he made his way back to the living room, standing in the center of the room, trying to think clearly, a loud thump reverberated through the hallway, and before he could react, his body crumpled to the floor. Lifeless. Blood began to pool beneath him, a dark and viscous river flowing from the neat, round hole between his eyes.
You were humming a soft tune as you turned off the water, stepping out of the box shower and reaching for the towel hung nearby. The bathroom air was cool, and the contrast with your damp skin made you shiver, goosebumps rising in a wave across your arms and legs. A sharp hiss escaped your lips as the chill settled in.
You froze momentarily, ears perking up when you heard the unmistakable sound of the door shutting loudly from the living room. It wasn’t a sound you were expecting, and a flicker of unease sparked in your chest.
Did she leave the house without telling you?
Quickly, you wrapped the towel around your body, the soft fabric absorbing the droplets that still clung to your skin. You could feel them running in rivulets, leaving trails down your back and legs.
Leaving the bathroom, your bare feet left wet footsteps on the floor, as you made your way towards the living room, you began to hear strange, muffled noises—something between a rustle and a low murmur. Your heartbeat quickened, thudding loudly in your ears. The apartment was usually a sanctuary, but now it felt different, charged with an unfamiliar tension.
“El?” you called out, your voice tentative as it broke the silence. You listened intently, but heavy silence was all you got in response.
It was only when you stood by the doorframe of the living room that you saw her knelt down on the floor. You found yourself unable to move, every muscle tensed as if you were being turned to stone by the piercing gaze of Medusa herself. Her eyes were ice cold, piercing right through you, as Jesse's body lay lifeless at her feet. The sight of his still form and the pool of blood around him made your stomach churn.
Ellie stood abruptly, her movement sudden and jarring. Your smooth forehead creased into a furrow, the lines forming a delicate map of concern, both of you staring at each other without daring to say a word. The silence stretched out, thick and suffocating, each heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears. Your grip tightened on the towel, knuckles white with tension, as you stepped forward
“Right on the fucking rug?!” you burst out, your voice raising slightly. Ellie winced, the sharpness of your tone cutting through the tension.
“Baby, I’m sor—” she began, but you harshly cut her off, marching closer to her, careful not to step on the warm crimson liquid staining the fluffy white rug.
“You better fucking scrub that shit clean,” you snapped, pointing your finger at her, eyes narrowing. Your gaze shifted to the lifeless body of Jesse, lying awkwardly with a dark, spreading pool beneath him.
Despite the gruesome sight, you felt a strange calm; you knew there was a reason behind her actions; there always was. And you trusted her to death, so no questions were asked, the only thing that bothered you was the thought of having to throw away your favorite carpet of the house.
Ellie nodded vigorously at your demand, her face a mask of determination. You could see the guilt and resolve warring in her eyes, but you knew she would handle it.
“Look,” she mumbled, her voice steady as she knelt down, reaching into Jesse’s jeans pocket. She pulled out a small hard drive, leaving bloody fingerprints on it.
“Ah shit,” you cursed, snatching it from her stained hands. The tiny data storage device felt deceptively light in your palm, its importance weighing heavily on your mind. “Wonder when he stole it,” you mumbled, turning the hard drive over, examining it closely.
“He had always been a sneaky little bitch,” she hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. She kicked his thigh, her pretty features scrunched up in anger. The casual violence of the gesture made your skin crawl, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jesse had been a liability, a snake in the grass.
“Do you think he told anyone else?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Fear flickered in your eyes, the thought of getting caught sending a wave of nausea through you. You couldn’t risk that; no, no, you couldn’t.
Ellie shook her head, reassuring you, “he came here as soon as he found out—left a bunch of voicemails,” she explained. You exhaled slowly, a weight lifting from your shoulders. Relief washed over you; no one else would find out. The bond between you felt stronger than ever. She had always been there for you, protecting you no matter what, hiding evidence you clumsily left behind.
You stood by her side, looking down at the mess she had made. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. Both of you were lost in your own worlds, your thoughts racing in different directions, her mind already strategizing the next steps while your own thoughts swirled in another direction.
“I really want a baby” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop them, a soft pout forming on your lips. She turned towards you, her face breaking into a brilliant smile that illuminated the dimly lit room.
At that moment, her emerald eyes shimmered with a newfound glimmer, a blend of delight and astonishment that took your breath away, feeling a fluttering in her stomach. “Fuck- are you forreal?”
You nod your head slightly, unable to contain the matching smile that formed on your own lips “Yes, I thought abou-” you started to explain, but before you could finish, bloody hands moved in a swift motion, pulling you closer by the waist.
Her lips pressed against yours, the kiss urgent and full of emotion. You melted into her embrace, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her even closer. Your fingers tangled in her ember-hued locks, the softness of her hair contrasting with the gritty reality of the moment. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the overwhelming sense of connection and the shared excitement of a future you both wanted. Ellie's grip on your waist tightened, her hands staining the pink fabric of the towel still wrapped around your body.
When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, you rested your forehead against hers. The room around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared dreams and possibilities.
No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be
The only one for me is you, and you for me
So happy together-
"Alexa, shut it," you commanded, pulling a giggle out of Ellie, her cheeks heating up with a pink hue that only added to her beauty. Your thumb gently stroked her cheekbone, and her slender fingers reached out to teasingly play with the towel still clinging to your body, their silken touch sending a shiver down your spine as they danced along the contours of the soft fabric.
"I was thinking…" she began slowly and sultrily, a mischievous smirk adorning her face, "How about we keep tryin’ for that baby?" Her tone was innocent, almost as if she were asking you to play a simple game of cards.
"You spoke my mind," you replied, pressing a quick peck on her smirk. Her hands quickly moved down to your butt, making you jump in her arms and wrap your legs around her waist.
Your soft giggle was interrupted by her lips once again, kissing you passionately, and her hands, strong yet tender, held you securely. You could feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric and the cool air of the room contrasting deliciously with your heated skin, making you shiver. Her lips moved with an urgency that matched your own, she was starved, she needed more.
You pulled back for a breath, your foreheads resting together. Her eyes, filled with love and desire, searched yours. "I love you," she whispered, her voice husky with emotion.
You smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I love you more."
With a shared laugh, she carried you towards the bedroom, your bodies intertwined and hearts beating in unison, falling in love with each other all over again.
No one would ever come between you, and no one would ever know what had happened here. Ellie had your back, and you had hers. Always.
I can't see me lovin' nobody but you
For all my life
taglist: @aouiaa
#ellie williams#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x fem reader#ellie x you#lesbianism#the last of us 2#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams tlou#the last of us part 2#tlou2#dina nolastname#dina woodward#dina the last of us#dina tlou#tlou jesse#jesse the last of us#lesbian#wlw#sapphic#lgbt nsft#ellie smut#ellie tlou2#tlou ellie#ellie tlou x reader
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Hey y'all I need some help
I'm a bisexual nonbinary transfem streamer and freelance writer living in a very expensive part of California. My day job is closing its doors for a while so I'll be out of work for a whole week, and I'm already on a rough paycheck to paycheck situation. My work hours have been gradually reduced lately and my twitch/patreon payouts have been steadily declining since the start of 2024. If you like my posts, watch my streams, read my stuff, or just like seeing me look cute online where you can see it, please consider supporting me.
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hello!
Can we have JJK guys reaction to his friend/buddy being in love with his girlfriend? (can sukuna and other any other characters you like).
THEIR FRIEND ALSO . . . LIKES YOU?!
featuring: ryomen sukuna. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. fushiguro megumi.
n. hey sweetheart, i’m not used to writing sukuna, but i tried to write him as him as much as i can! i hope it suits him. thankies for the req x—x
GOJO SATORU. when gojo found out that his friend also liked you, his reaction was, unsurprisingly, far from what most people would expect. instead of anger or jealousy, he simply shrugged it off, his trademark smile playing on his lips.
“did you hear what i just said?” you asked, looking at him with wide eyes, he wasn’t fazed. “your friend likes me.”
gojo laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “oh, i heard you,” he replied, leaning back against the couch with an amused glint behind those glasses. “but why should i be worried? i know you’ll choose me at the end of the day.”
you blinked, taken aback by his confidence. “you’re not even a little bit concerned?”
“not at all,” gojo said, grinning. “i mean, can you blame them? you’re everything. but they don’t stand a chance against me, darling.”
“besides, it’s not like i don’t trust you. i know you love me.”
his words were playful, but because you know him well, he was serious. it was just the way he expressed it. “you’re right,” you admitted, tracing figures on his hands. “i do love you.”
“see? nothing to worry about. let him have their crush. it doesn’t change anything between us. if anything, it’s flattering. just proves i have excellent taste.”
RYOMEN SUKUNA. being in a relationship with sukuna meant navigating his unpredictable moods and overwhelming presence, but you had never seen him this angry before. the air seemed to crackle with his frustration as he paced back and forth, his eyes blazing with a fury that sent chills down your spine.
“babe,” you began, trying to calm him down. “what’s wrong?”
he stopped pacing and looked at you, his expression dark. “fucking jerk, it’s that so-called ‘friend’ of mine,” words spat out immediately. “i found out he likes you.”
your heart skipped a beat. you had noticed the way his friend had been acting lately, but you hadn’t thought much of it. now, seeing sukuna’s reaction, you realized just how serious this was.
“ryo,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “i chose you from the start, right?”
he growled, his hands clenching into fists. “i don’t care about that. he should have known better. he should have known that you’re mine.”
sukuna lined up his hand on your chin, causing your eyes to meet. “if he comes near you, he’ll face my wrath,” he whispered, his tone still laced with menace. “no one threatens what’s mine.”
“especially my woman.”
ITADORI YUUJI. you told him about his friend’s feelings while you both were sitting inside your cozy room. itadori’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then he leaned back in his chair, processing the information.
“wow,” he said softly, scratching the back of his head, those pink locks becoming messier. “i didn’t see that coming.”
bitting your lower lip, you’re worried about how he might take the news. “you’re not mad, aren’t you?”
but your boyfriend shook his head, full of understanding. “no, i’m not mad, baby. feelings are complicated, y’know? it’s not like he can control how he feels.”
you sighed in relief, appreciating his maturity. “okay... i was just worried about how you’d react.”
“baby, i trust you, and i trust our relationship. besides, i’m kind of curious now. like, since when did he start liking you? how did i miss that?”
feeling the tension ease out of the situation, you chuckled at him. his obliviousness always gets in the way. “don’t know the exact moment, but i guess it’s been a while.”
“hmm,” the guy leaned forward, resting his chin on his free hand. “did he ever try to tell you or make a move?”
you shook your head. “no, i guess he didn’t. i think he knew about us and didn’t want to cause any trouble.” after your statement, a thoughtful expression was written on his face. “that must have been tough for him. i mean, having feelings for someone who’s already in a relationship.”
“it probably was,” you agreed. “but i’m glad you’re handling this so well.”
“hey, anyone would be lucky to have you. i just got there first.”
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. he took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. after fushiguro found out that his friend liked you, it hit him harder than he wanted to admit. the knowledge gnawed at him, and although he tried to brush it off, doubts began to creep in, making him question his own worth and your relationship. “i found out that one of my friends likes you.”
“really? who?” you blinked in surprise, not expecting that. he named the friend, and you frowned, thinking back on any interactions you might have had. “i had no idea…”
fushiguro nodded, but his eyes avoiding yours. “i didn’t either. it just… fuck, it bothers me.”
“i guess it makes me question things. like, am i good enough for you? do you have feelings for him too? those sorta things..”
your hands immediately caressed his by instinct, seeing him like this made your heart ache. “baby, you’re enough for me. i don’t have any feelings for them. i’m with you until the end.”
the man looked down for a long while, his grip on your hand tightening. “but what if i’m not enough? what if there’s something lacking in our relationship that makes you look elsewhere?”
“there’s nothing lacking, megumi. i’m happy with you. and i love you just the way you are.” you shook your head, cupping his face with your free hand.
after that he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly. “i don’t want to that jealous boyfriend but i can’t help it. the thought of losing you to someone else…”
“you’re not going to lose me,” you interrupted softly. “i’m here with you, and that’s not going to change. fushiguro then opened his eyes, searching for reassurance in yours, before closing them again. a little, relieved smile tugged on the edges of his lips. “i love you. i’m sorry for doubting us.”
@uzurakis
#.writing#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro megumi#megumi fluff#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi x reader#fushiguro x you#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna fluff#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo fluff#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#itadori yuuji x reader#itadori yuuji#itadori x you#itadori fluff#yuuji x reader#fushiguro x reader#sukuna x y/n
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Wet & Wild
pairing: art donaldson x reader
synopsis: in which you, a swimmer, and art, a tennis champ, change each other's lives for the better when you challenge his match-like stance on life
warnings: smut build up, porn with a plot, making out, cursing, frat party, art being stupid, happy ending dw, two parts because I cannot condense my writing for the life of me
word count: 4.0k
masterlist
“Swimmers…”
You curled your fingers around the rough end of the diving board, unconsciously holding your breath as you readied for the starting noise. The pool glinted below you, reflecting light from the glaring sun above that sparkled like the blue glitter polish on your toenails. But you ignored it, blocking out anything that wasn’t the signal as you lowered your neck.
“Take your marks…”
There it was. You tensed as the official hovered her finger over the mic button. She was about to send you off and there could be no hesitation once she did. Any second now.
“GO!”
You were already under as the crowd started cheering. Two laps,100 meters, that’s all that it took and you had already conquered a quarter of the length by the time you came up for your breakout strokes. You cut through the smooth pool surface leaving white water waves in your wake. You tried not to let your gaze stray anywhere away from the tiled black line at the bottom of the pool as you felt the competition slipping behind you.
As the wall comes into view at the other end of the 50 meter pool, you take your first breath of the race and pause your strokes for only a second to perform a nearly perfect flip turn. You only have one more length back before it’s over and you can claim the medal that is rightfully yours as you come up from your last breakout. Arms pulling and legs kicking almost frantically, you’re almost there, so close you can sense the touch pad waiting for you at the end. You zoom past the flags and…
“I can’t believe I lost by less than two tenths of a second!” you groan, taking a swig from the Heineken one of your teammates had handed you when you arrived earlier. More than 12 hours had passed since your race and yet you couldn’t stop thinking about your unexpected loss. It had plagued you still as you had made your way to the party a random fraternity had thrown, though your team considered it a celebration after the Stanford swim team took home another champion title. It was small in comparison to the larger meets you had won in the past, but it was a reason to stay out past the curfew your coach imposed on you. And any reason to stay out was good enough for you.
“You’re not actually upset about that, are you?” Chloe asked, one of your teammates who competed in the endurance free events. While you would consider yourself close to nearly every girl who swam with you, Chloe was more of an instant best friend.
You shake your head as she sips on her own beer. Unlike you, she had opted for a brand with a higher alcohol percentage as she was unafraid of hangover ridicule that inevitably awaited her at your next morning practice.
“Of course not. You know me, winning is only a plus. I just can’t believe I got so close to the record!”
It was true. You didn’t so much mind losing the first place prize to the opposing team in such an insignificant meet. What really had you grinding your teeth was the fact that you had only been a half of a second away from the official Stanford record. You weren’t sure where you lost that time in your race, whether it was one of your two breaths or if you needed to dive further out, but you were set on remedying every part of your race until the problem was solved. Your next meet was only a week away and unlike this one, it would be a much bigger deal.
“You got that girl,” Chloe assured you, patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. “Half a second ain’t nothing for you.”
“I hope so. I’m not missing any more practices until I get it.”
Your conversation was disrupted as the room suddenly erupted in cheers, people gathering around the entrance as newcomers entered. You turned your head towards the noise, searching for whoever could elicit such a response.
You caught sight of him right away, a man you had never seen before though immediately prayed you’d never lose sight of. He was tall, his head covered in light blonde curls that were well trimmed to not hang over his hooded eyes. He was attractive, no doubt, but there was more to him than looks. There had to be. Anybody had to be more than attractive to get applause in a place like Stanford, especially within the frat parties.
“Who is that?” you nudged Chloe in his direction. She was normally more up to date than you on the campus celebrities as she didn’t get swallowed up by her swimming commitments as often as you. Chloe nearly choked on her drink as she saw him, turning back to you with a befuddled expression.
“You don’t know Art Donaldson? He’s like the most promising tennis student to ever play here.”
You furrowed a brow, staring at Chloe as if she had said something incredibly stupid.
“Do I look like I watch fucking tennis?” you gestures to your hoodie that clearly bore the words ‘Stanford Swimming and Diving’.
“Let me put it this way,” Chloe started, unoffended as always. “He’s already won the Junior US Open in the doubles category. He got second in the singles and at the rate he almost qualified for the real thing.”
“What’s stopping him?” You asked, looking back in the direction of the man who had now settled on the dance floor with a drink. You sensed a catch in Chloe’s explanation.
“That.”
Chloe pointed to the only television in the house that was conveniently showing a rerun of one of the man’s, Art’s, matches which from the date you could tell happened the same time as your meet. He was amazing, more skilled than any of the few players you had ever watched before, but even you, someone who knew nothing about tennis, could tell that he was playing like something was holding him back. Every ball out of his reach skirted to the fence behind him until he eventually lost. You couldn’t understand how a Junior US Open champion could miss shots that were arguably hard, but reasonable for a professional. There had to be more to it than what lay on the surface and as a swimmer you couldn’t stop the urge to dive in deeper.
“Oh no,” Chloe smirked. She knew you too well to miss when you were after something you wanted. And you weren’t sure by which mystical force you were being pulled, but you started to gravitate away from her. “You’re going to go after him, aren’t you?”
“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna do a walk around.” you promised, standing from your couch seat beside her, though you were both certain she wouldn’t see you again until practice the next day.
“Good luck.”
You were careful not to approach him directly, instead jumping into a conversation with a couple of your teammates who happened to be chatting in his vicinity. After several minutes of receiving congratulations for your attempt at the record, the group surrounding Art had finally dispersed leaving him alone with his drink on the floor. Lucky for you, by the time he was without a crowd to bypass, your group had moved on to much more nonsensical topics. It was then, by chance or fate as you believed, that he just so happened to bump into you, forcing your drink out of your hand and his attention onto you.
The glass of your Heiniken sank to the group, shattering into a million dazzling pieces of green glass, but you were able to block it out with the focus of a swimmer as you felt his stare on you.
Through the flashing lights you were able to make out the shape of his face better, mapping out sharp jawlines and chiseled cheekbones. You decided then you preferred this Art, the one who smiled at you anxiously over his moving body on the tennis channel and by the slight intrigue on his face, you could tell he felt similarly.
“I’m so sorry,” he professed, looking down at the mess of glass behind you before his blue eyes again met yours “You okay?” He had to shout over the loud music, guilt evidently rushing through him as if he had shoved you to the ground rather than accidentally causing you to drop your nearly empty bottle.
“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Art, right?”
Art nodded, leaning in closer to you so that he could hear you over the blaring club music.
“Do I know you?” he asked, in awe that you knew his name as if it wasn’t being broadcasted all over the Stanford sport program.
“Not yet,” you laughed, pointing to the screen where you had just seen him, watching as a wave of embarrassment washed over him as they replayed the portion of the match where he lost it all, unbeknownst to you. “I was watching your game. You’re really good.”
“You play?”
“Not tennis.” you gestured to the logo on your hoodie, hoping the disco lighting wasn’t enough to distort the clear waves of the swimming logo.
“Oh wow,” he marveled. “I didn’t even know we had a swim team.”
“What can I say? My sport’s not quite as popular as yours.�� you shrugged, shooting him a smile.
“We’ve really gotta get you another drink.” Art pointed out as he took a swig of his own beer.
“Sure,” you agreed. “I just have to take care of this first.”
You turned around to the glass mess that waited for you only to find that your teammates had already handled it in the time you had spent getting introduced to Art, leaving the two of you plenty of time to get acquainted, mess free. You caught sight of them across the room sitting next to Chloe, smirking at you as you looked their way. You rolled your eyes at the sight.
Art had his arm offered out to you when you turned back to him, a guarantee that the two of you wouldn’t get separated on the floor as you headed into the kitchen. It’s there that the seconds fade into elongated hours as you get to know more about each other. You told Art all about your life on the team and why swimming was your calling out of all sports while he spilled to you every tennis affiliated memory from his childhood where you learned he attended a special boarding school for the sport. You made note of his humility as he never once mentioned his success on the Junior US Open and the high level he can play.
You finish the soda Art had gotten for you as the music in the main room increases in volume, forcing you to crane your neck in order to talk in his ear, leaning in so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s not much taller than you, but it’s enough to make a difference.
“I can’t hear anything with this music,” you admitted, speaking at a timbre that’s loud enough to be audible to Art without bursting his eardrums. “Do you wanna move somewhere else?”
You knew Art was joining you when he looked at you with consideration. But it was impossible for you to know exactly what he was thinking, staying ignorant to the fact that he supposed after losing his match and an evening with Tashi due to another scheduled Patrick reappearance, what did he have left to lose? He wouldn’t normally do this, but you look like the perfect contender for a brand new game.
“Let’s go upstairs.” he nodded towards the stairs to your left, accepting your invitation. “It won’t be as loud up there.”
And so you both made your way up the frat house staircase, passing by closed door after closed door until you finally found a vacant bedroom. While you don’t know who lives there, it was tidy enough for you to neglect caring as you followed Art inside and shut the door behind you.
“I don't think I ever caught your name, by the way.” Art stated as he took a seat on the bed in the center of the room, leaving a space for you beside him..
“Oh, I didn’t say.” you chuckled in realization as you sat beside him, your name falling from your lips as you met the lumpy mattress.
“And this is your reward party?” he wondered, a thought you can’t help smiling at as you shake your head.
“Definitely not,” you took another swig from your bottle. “I don’t think there’s any real reason behind this besides to fuel college memories. If anything, they’d be celebrating you. You’re like famous right?”
Art’s gaze moves to the shag carpet below as he shakes his head of blonde curls, disappointment shrouding his face.
“Not quite,” he disagreed, his eyes meeting yours once more. “I don’t know if you saw the whole thing, but my match today wasn’t anything to celebrate.”
“Why not?”
“Because I lost.”
He stated it like it was obvious which only confuses you as a swimmer. All the work and dedication he must put into his sport all to think there was no yield. You couldn’t imagine basing your pride off of winning and winning alone when there were so many other components to competing.
“So?”
He’s startled by your nonchalance towards losing, something so foreign to him it isn’t even a refreshing take.
“So?” he repeated. “So I failed today. I let my team down. I let Tashi down.”
Tashi. You’ve definitely heard that name before. Though you don’t know much about the inner workers of tennis, everyone and their mother in the state of California knows who Tashi Duncan is. She’s the most famous person on campus, in and out of the tennis world. You didn’t know her personally, only ever seeing her when walking between classes. You also knew she had a boyfriend who didn’t attend Stanford from seeing them eating together. There had always been something off about her and now, with Art beside you in full self-deprecation mode, you figured you were about to find out exactly what it was.
“Is that who you were looking at?” you asked, piecing together that she must’ve been in attendance at his match. He immediately tensed at the mention, surprised you caught the simple detail. “I saw during your match. You looked like you were distracted.”
“It wasn’t just her,” he shook his head. “One of my oldest friends just flew for the weekend. He was there with her.” he paused. “They both saw me fail.”
“I’m sure they were both proud of you.” you assured, but Art was quick to set you straight as his friends didn’t operate the same way yours did.
“No, you don’t get it. I’m nothing if I don’t win.”
“Well it’s okay, you can just try again next time.”
“It doesn’t work like that. That’s not what tennis is about.”
You sensed a planted ideology in his evaluation, causing you to probe further.
“Really? So tennis isn’t just hitting balls with rackets over and over?”
“It’s more than that,” he informed you, taking no offense from your lack of knowledge. “It’s a relationship. It’s about the fight between two people. The back and forth until someone comes out on top. And even then the winning, it’s not nearly as important as the match. I didn’t just lose today, I let the crowd down. And my opponent won without the intensity of a good match. All because of me.”
You quieted as he explained, placing a careful hand on his shoulder as he finished. You felt for him, absorbing his sorrows like a therapeutic sponge, but it didn’t take a tennis expert to understand that bullshit behind his dogma. It sounded more like a manipulation technique than anything, all stemming from the same source.
“Did Tashi tell you that?”
He narrowed his eyes at you, as if your statement was any more outrageous than the lies he had been fed.
“It’s the truth.” he answered.
You weren’t sure how to get across to him, if it was even possible to crash through the wall of his beliefs in the first place, but you knew you had to try. It wasn’t right for him to harbor such disappointment over a match that did nothing to disprove his skill at his sport.
“Okay,” your voice softened as you thought of a way to challenge his theories. “Let’s change the subject. How about I tell you how swimming works?”
“Isn’t it more of the same?” he sighed, still overcomplicating his loss.
“Actually it’s very different.” you corrected.
“What do you mean?” Art asked, looking at you with the utmost intrigue.
“What if I told you that even the losers in swimming end up winning?”
Incredulous of the possibility, Art waited for further explanation.
“See like tennis, we have the players and of course only one person in each race can come out on top, but it’s not about beating the other players. Once you’re out there, it’s just you and the water. That’s the only relationship. It doesn’t matter where anyone else is, beside you, behind you, that’s not what’s not important. All that matters is how well you swim and if you lost a few seconds on the time board. Everything else is lost to the waves. And if your time is the fastest well, that’s just one big fucking bonus.”
Art sat with your words, unable to reply as he processes the possibility of winning as a loser. It’s almost too hard to imagine. You leaned closer to him, breath catching as his eyes moved down to your lips and one of his hands gently gripped your thigh.
“Really?” he asked.
You nodded, your faces so close now that your nose nudged his own.
“I didn’t win today either,” you whisper to him. “But my team screamed when I touched that wall. And do you know why?”
He waited for you to explain, eyes fluttering close for only a second as you laid a palm on his shirt, feeling the hard muscle that lay beneath. Your hands trailed to his sleeves, settling his bare skin a blaze as you take in his equally sturdy biceps.
“I almost beat a school record today. First time in 30 years if I had done it.”
“There’s no records like that in tennis.” he countered, but there was uncertainty in his tone. As if he was waiting for you to further back this new perspective. As if he was really starting to believe it.
“Then maybe you should take a page out of my book. Leave tennis in the past for now and focus on what’s here, in the present…” your lips brush over his before you mutter, “... focus on me.”
You're not entirely sure who initiated it, but before either of you could get out another word, his lips were on yours. You dove head first into the kiss, his lips melting against yours as you swipe your tongue out to catch the lingering taste of cheap beer at the edge of his parted mouth. It’s all so soft, like two cracked dolls who want nothing more than to break for the other until the intensity reaches its peak and you could feel microscopic beads of sweat forming at your brow.
Art pulled you in closer, gentle hands moving to your waist as the faint vocals of California Gurls played distantly in the background. His fingers curled into your sides, worming their way under the hem of your hoodie as they gave way to underlying desire, sparking every inch of your skin that they came into contact with.
You sighed as his teeth sank into your bottom lip. Pausing the kiss, he tipped his head back to jerk ever so lightly on your lip before allowing it to snap back into place and at once you crashed back into mouth, kissing him with a fervor you don’t remember ever feeling this intensely. Every movement, every change in the pace all worsened the heat igniting within you.
You tugged on the blonde roots of his curls that rest closest to his neck and soon enough you felt Art’s needy fingers claw at the waist back of your black athletic shorts. Though you're in desperate need of relief from the growing pool of desire at your core, you knew it was time to pull back. Art didn’t let you go so easy, his lips chasing after yours once you’ve broken the kiss, but it’s no use. You knew you couldn’t do this, at least not tonight.
“What’s wrong?” Art whispered against your lips, automatically assuming that it was his own fault rather than an independent decision of your own. It was certainly too intimate for a man you’d only just met, but you have to cup his cheek to keep from breaking as his own hands part from your skin.
You told him some form of the truth, that you didn’t think the timing was right. It’s not that you didn’t want to, you were dying to sneak another taste of his lips in and give him everything he’s ever wanted right there and then. But you couldn’t. Not when you know that it’s just another match. A distraction from Tashi. Especially not when you know that it didn’t have to be.
“We can’t do this here.”
Art face fell at your words, but he’s never been one to give up so easily.
“Then let’s go back to my place.” he offered, hoping it was just the atmosphere of the party that alarmed you. He wasn’t ready for you to leave.
“No, not tonight.” you frowned apologetically. “Not while you’re playing tennis.”
He stared at you in utter confusion as you stood up from your place beside him, dusting off your clothes as if you hadn’t been enjoying him all along. He didn’t understand the reasons behind your sudden switch, but he’s willing to risk it all in the heat of the moment.
“You want me to quit.” he suggested as if it’s a solution both of you are comfortable with. You turned back to him disturbed, shaking your head wildly at the proposal.
“Of course not, Art, you know that’s not what I mean,” you began, gathering an explanation that you hope will convey your reasons without making him feel like a complete piece of shit. “I don’t know what Tashi told you, but to me it sounds like she expects a winner. She’s programmed you into believing the player doesn’t matter without a title.”
You stepped an inch in his direction, close enough that you can see even the smallest details of his face, but not enough for him to touch you again.
“…but she’s forgetting that without the player, winner or loser, there is no title. Without a foundation, there is no relationship between you and the other player. And nobody can succeed if they’re scared of failure.” you explained further. You knew your words resonated with Art as his gaze turned to the stained carpet of the bedroom, but he had to pass the ball back.
“Well, you said it yourself, you don’t know Tashi.” he fired back, and you knew it’s only the tennis talking.
“You know I’m right.”
Art was silent, only proving your point. You knew you had to leave, but you had to promise him a second meeting, for him and for yourself. You wouldn’t be blocked from a happy ending by wrong timing.
“Come to my meet next weekend,” you invited him. “It’s the biggest one of the year. You should see how other sports operate.”
“I can’t see you before then?”
You almost smiled at the confirmation that his frustration wasn’t directed towards you.
“I have practice,” you shrugged. “- and so do you. You can see me again at my meet and in the meantime, just think about what I said. And know that you’re more than a loser, Art.”
You left without another word, shutting the door while silently cursing yourself for not taking the opportunity while you had it. It was very possible that you would never see the tennis star again, that every spark you felt with him in your first hour of knowing him was entirely one sided. You prayed it wasn’t true, that he had shown some feelings in return, but only time would tell. In exactly one week, you would be certain.
part two (smut) coming tomorrow!!!
comment if you want to be tagged 💜
#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x female reader#tashi duncan#patrick zweig#challengers#challengers movie#challengers 2024#swimming#swimmer life#stanford art!!!#challengers fanfic#art donaldson fanfic#art donaldson smut#smut
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𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘬 + 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦
Hwang Hyunjin 𝗑 Afab!Reader
♡ Genre - Friends to Lovers
♡ CW - Explicit Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Nightmares, Alcohol usage by reader, Hyunjin calls reader rose as a nickname, One use of 'y/n'.
♡ Summary - Your avoidant tendencies have allowed the burn of pink and white to keep you Hyunjin at a safe distance until it all comes crashing down. Can the fire that kept you apart also be what brings you together?
♡ Word Count - 9.2k
♡ A/N - I went from not being sure if I liked this fic to being in love with it. I think that it's a very sweet fic and I loved writing it. I worked so hard on it and I'm so proud of it. The goal was for it to be 4k words.. then I almost posted it at 8k but now... yeah. I hope that you love this as much as I do!
♡ Playlist - Pink + White - Frank Ocean, Rainy Days - V, For Us - V, Beautiful Things - Benson Boone, Trajectories - Bruno Major
✧ Masterlist ✧
When you were six years old you punched a boy in the face on the playground. That was the first time that you ever felt the burn of genuine fear.
Your mom along with the many others came swirling around them. When your mother asked you what happened you cried. You clung to her running over to you and the crying brunette boy on the playground with a mix of emotions and explained the best you could through your tears that you didn’t like that he was chasing you, when you agreed to play tag you thought that you’d be the chaser not the one being chased.
That was the day that you learned two things about yourself, you have a habit of acting impulsively when you’re scared and you don’t like being chased. It's suffocating.
As you got older your friends described you as the avoidant type, especially in relationships. You developed a reputation for being an ice queen in your Sophomore year of university which led to you being one of the most sought after girls on campus.
You’ve lost friends because of this. Their boyfriends saw getting close to them as a gateway to meeting you. Many guys took dating you as a challenge with an end prize of overnight popularity. Unfortunately, some of your closest relationships have been destroyed because of it. You learned not to be sad about it, you’ve come to terms with it, this is just the way that it goes. Of course your other friends were all important to you but you always told yourself that you’re alright with losing them as long as you have your best friend by your side.
“More roses? Are you in love or something?” You weaved through the cluttered art studio that Hyunjin has claimed as his own. It’s on the dead side of campus on the second floor of a building that was abandoned last year. Your best friend refused to let the studio go when it was shut down, he says that it houses some of his fondest memories.
“Always in love, never loved back.” He quips, eyes still trained on the canvas. “You’re early.”
You jump up onto one of the few clear desks in the room, right behind his easel. “Chemistry ended early.” Hyunjin stands straight, eyeing his canvas for a second before looking over at you. He knows that you’re skipping class. Your last hook-up is in that class and you're trying to avoid his attempt at getting you in his bed again. If you’re being honest, the decision to sleep with him was impulsive. You blame the beer, all eight of them.
“I thought that we could go to the exhibition early.” He starts another brush stroke and silence swallows you both. “I’m excited about it and if I’m being honest I just wanna spend time with you. I’ve barely seen you for the past three days.”
Hyunjin’s steady hand wavers and he thanks his lucky stars that you didn’t see it. “Aw she misses me. She loves me so much.” The sound of your feet hitting the ground as you jump off of the desk echoes through the dusty room of stacked chairs and forgotten storage items.
Hyunjin stands and dips the paint brush covered in bright pink in the cup of water next to him. “You could’ve come to my place ya know.” You grab your stuff, swinging your bag onto your shoulder.
“Your brother is there, you know how he gets.” You scrunch your face at the thought of Hyunjin’s step brother, Jeongin. The two of you get along perfectly, almost as well as you and Hyunjin until Jeongin starts flirting. He confessed to you on New Years and you’ve been avoiding him ever since. He’s too sweet for you, you’d hate to hurt him. “I’m gonna go change, I’ll meet you by your car.”
“You brought a costume change for an art exhibit?” He asks as he starts cleaning his space.
“Of course, I need to look like art too.” You smile at him but he doesn’t smile back, he rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the mess of paints and rags on the desk in front of him. He waits until he hears the door open and close behind you to finally let the corners of his mouth turn up. He chuckles to himself quietly while his mind comes up with responses that he’d never dare to utter out loud.
“This one looks like you, rose.” The year old nickname slips off of Hyunjin’s tongue like silk. You’ve never fully understood how the name stuck. You figured that it’s because roses are his favorite flower and he thought it was cute. You’ve never asked for its origin but you don’t mind the name. It’s sweet.
You turn to view the series of pink, white and green dots making up a bouquet of roses on the framed canvas in front of Hyunjin. He studies it with smiling eyes though the neutral look on his face could fool those who haven’t experienced him like you have.
“It’s pretty.” You mumble as you lean your head on his shoulder. You wrap your arm around his and the sleeve of the brown oversized flannel shirt that you picked out a year ago rides up his forearm a bit, he blames the chills running up his spine on the breeze against the newly exposed skin.
“I knew I’d see you here.” The voice of a woman next to Hyunjin startles you a bit. You stand straight and watch as Hyunjin smiles towards her. He’s cursing her in his head for interrupting the moment between the two of you but he learned a long time ago to just live in the moment when it comes to you.
“Of course, I had to see this exhibition.” He shakes her hand and you chalk it up to her being someone important though she doesn’t look much older than either of you. “You put it together beautifully.”
Ah, she owns the gallery. “Oh, please, it’s nothing. I just hope that you’re enjoying it. I actually thought about you when I put this piece up.” She motions towards the art in front of the two of you. The piece that Hyunjin says resembles you. “It looks like something you’d design. I’m still desperate to organize a local exhibition for you, ya know.”
Hyunjin laughs but it's stiff and polite. He’s being shy. He’s a very cautious person but he reaches a whole new level when it comes to his art. “I’m not quite on that level yet.”
“I disagree but I won’t bother you about it until you graduate. This is your final semester, right?” You can see her eyes smiling just like Hyunjin’s were a second ago as she checks him out. She’s shameless in her actions, the glint in her eyes is far from professional.
“Yes, just three months to go.” She nods, dragging her gaze up from his lips with a smile.
“Call me when you graduate, I’d love to have you working with us.” She pulls a business card out of her pocket and flashes one last smile before waving a reluctant goodbye towards your best friend.
Silence settles between the two of you for just a couple of seconds before you break it. “She wants to fuck you so badly that she didn’t even look at me.” Hyunjin scoffs at your whispered words as he slips the card into his pocket. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t notice. How old is she anyway? She looks a bit young to be in charge of this place.”
“Her father owns it.” He mumbles as he grabs your wrist and leads you over to the next piece of art.
“Oh, of course. She probably thought I was your girlfriend, ya know. She’s rude as hell for not even asking or looking at me. I know she saw me here, she’s clearly -” You’re pulled into Hyunjin’s side before you can finish your sentence. The sudden action cuts you off with a heavy thump of your heart and that painfully familiar burn rising in your chest.
“Look at this one.” Your eyes are on him but his are on the art. “This one looks like you too.” You pull your gaze away from him to view the piece. The thumping in your chest doubles once your gaze meets your own. It’s a mirror with pink and white abstract designs floating around and over the glass. The paint is so messy yet strategic. It leaves just enough room for your reflection.
“It’s messy yet elegant, don’t you think? You can’t help but to stare..” He’s visibly smiling now. The corners of his mouth turn up as he studies the art in front of him. As he studies you. “This one might be my favorite. It’ll be hard to beat it.”
“I don’t like it.” You mutter quickly, pulling away from Hyunjin and turning towards the next piece. You try your best to steady your breathing. You will your heart to calm down so that you can take a complete breath but it’s betraying you. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.”
You’re walking away before Hyunjin can reply. He watches you with that smile in his eyes as you disappear around the corner. He knew that what he pulled would be a risk but it was one that he was willing to take. He doesn’t call you beautiful nearly as much as he should or as much as he really wants to.
In the bathroom you’re slumped against the door of a stall while you try to catch your breath. You don’t like how Hyunjin’s words made that white hot burn in your chest kick up. You don’t like the way that his eyes being on you made you feel like you were the only two in the entire gallery. It’s suffocating.
When you step out of the stall your fingers are busy on your phone screen. You find your friend Isa’s number quickly and take a sigh of relief when she answers on the third ring. You bypass reciprocating her kind greeting and get right to the point.
“Get-together at yours tomorrow?”
You’re standing in the middle of the Pink and White art exhibition. Other viewers jumble together along the walls of the gallery and crowd the pieces. You can’t see anything but their blurred faces decorating the white walls. There’s a slow yet heavy beating in your ears but you’re comfortable. You’re alone in the middle of it all, watching everyone from a pleasant distance as you turn to study them all as if they’re the art on the walls.
The beating in your ears skips as you turn and come face to face with Hyunjin. He’s standing in front of you wearing that brown hat that you love and the oversized flannel that he bought just to share with you.
Suddenly the others in the room are quiet. All eyes are on you but Hyunjin’s gaze is the most piercing. His brown eyes are smiling at you with a softness that makes the flame in your chest burn brighter.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” You look around at everyone else but they’ve vanished along with the art on the walls. The beating in your ears picks up, it’s deafening but Hyunjin’s voice can be heard loud and clear over the noise.
“I like staring at you.” He takes a step towards you but you take two back. He frowns and steps forward again. You repeat the process until your back is against the wall. “Why do you do that?”
“I’m not doing anything.” You swallow hard as you try to push him away but he’s stronger than you. As strong as stone caging you against the stark white wall. “I can’t breathe.” You’re pushing as hard as you can but it’s no use. You’re stuck under him.
“Why do you do this?” He’s still staring down at you, a burning gaze setting your skin ablaze. “Why do you keep running?” The beating in your ears drowns out all sensible thoughts. You can feel your veins swelling with fear and the blinding white burning in your chest puffs up with the crushing pressure of having him so close. Too close.
“Back up.” You inhale the thick air, feeling dizzy. “Move.”
“Stop running.” You try to inhale but it gets stuck in your throat. You want to scream. You need to escape. You need to get out of here.
You lift your heavy arm the best you can and pull back enough to punch Hyunjin. You aim for his face but your fist goes through him just as your lungs start to burn, you take one last look at him before the wall behind you gives out and you’re falling backwards. Hyunjin watches you, his eyes are void of that sparkling smile and guilt consumes you right before you hit the ground.
You jump up with a gasp as your eyes frantically search the room around you. Your chest rises and falls heavily and sweat beads at your hairline.
It was a dream.
Friday is a late day for you with your last class ending at nine in the evening. Hyunjin always waits for you in the abandoned art studio, he waits for two hours just to walk you to your dorm across campus. It’s become a routine for the two of you but you told him not to wait up tonight. He was reluctant at first, he insisted on waiting for you but you were adamant about breaking your routine.
He agreed eventually but you could see the dejection in his eyes as he hugged you goodbye before your last class. He watched you walk away just like he always did but this time his heart was heavy in his chest. Did he do something wrong?
That question haunted him throughout the day. It was loud in his head as he collected his stuff and made his way to the abandoned studio. It echoed in his ears as he tried to finish the painting of his vibrant rose that he’s added notes of dusty pale pink to. But it was the loudest when Jeongin called him to ask if he was going to the get-together at Minho’s place tonight.
He knows that you and Minho’s girlfriend Isa are close so you have to know about this, hell, you might’ve even helped plan it and you kept it from him. You’re avoiding him.
You skipped your class to head to Minho and Isa’s place. They share a small apartment right off of campus that you often use as an escape. Isa is one of the few friends that you still have from sophomore year since her boyfriend has never once tried to get in your pants.
You sat on Isa’s bed clutching a bottle of soju that is not at all meant for one person while you laid your head in her lap. You loved being with her because there was never any pressure to fill the silence. She understands you in a way that other people just don’t. Not even Hyunjin.
“So, he called you pretty?” You’ve been telling her everything from what happened at the art gallery to the nightmare you had last night. “And now you’re avoiding him?”
“I’m not avoiding him.” You take a swig from the glass bottle and gulp hard to rush the alcohol into your system. “I’m just being careful.”
“You’re being careful by avoiding your best friend… because he called you pretty and you had a nightmare about it?” You sit up with a groan, lifting the bottle to your mouth again with a sigh. She’s not getting it.
“You didn’t see the way he looked at me. You didn’t feel the way he pulled me into him, his arm wrapped around my waist and he just stared at me with that smile in his eyes. You know the one that makes his eyes shine when he sees something pretty? He was looking at me like that and he told me that I looked elegant. Messy but elegant and that he couldn’t help but to stare. There was a softness in his voice, I swear, and he just wouldn’t take his eyes off of me. It’s like he was looking into me instead of at me it was… it was..”
“Sweet?” You tap the bottle in your hands with your nails.
“Suffocating. It was too much. It made my heart skip and it made me feel hot.”
“That usually means that you like him, ya know.” She takes the bottle from you, drinking from it a bit herself. “ You know that he’s a romantic and this isn’t the first time you’ve felt like this with him.” She hands the cold glass back to you while you think back to the other times that you’ve felt this. The latest being your birthday three months ago when Hyunjin whisked you away to the next city for a mini getaway.
You stayed in the same hotel room and on the night of your birthday you had a bit too much to drink. He carried you up to your room since you were too out of it to walk but you weren’t too far gone to forget the way that he handled you with such gentle care.
He brushed your hair out of your face when he laid you on your bed and took your make-up off with such a tender touch that it made you want to kiss him. You almost kissed him.
“I don’t like him like that.” You shrug and she sighs.
“Whatever you say, ice queen.” That damned nickname makes you cringe but Minho is bursting through the door before you can rebuttal.
“Jisung and Bin just got here, come on.” You stare at him with confused eyes and he crosses his arms as he stares back at you. “Well? Get up, you wanted to do this.”
“Do what?” You look over at Isa who’s already getting up from the bed.
“Did you not call her asking for a get-together? People are getting here so come on. I’m not hosting this by myself.” Your heart drops and you stare over at Isa who looks back at you with her own look of confusion until it all sinks in.
“You meant for it to be just us, didn’t you?”
Hyunjin is a cautious person, anyone who knows him knows that about him. He doesn’t like when things go wrong because of him. It eats him alive until he can fix it and if he can’t he lets the anxiety consume him until a part of him dies with the memory of it all.
His cautious nature is what prompted him to drive home after he got that call from Jeongin. It brought him right to his bedroom where he dropped his bag by the foot of his bed and laid back against the mattress with a death stare set on the dull ceiling. It stared back at him, reflecting his thoughts back to him for him to analyze.
His brother left for the get-together as soon as he walked through the door and Hyunjin was tempted to follow him down to Seungmin’s car.
He was tempted to drop his bag and turn on his heels and come straight to you but he knew better. He knew you better than you knew yourself. If he shows up at that get-together you’ll avoid him like the plague. You’ll feel trapped by his presence and any hope that he has of fixing this situation will die right in front of his eyes.
His cautious nature is what’s keeping him on his bed. It’s what’s grounding him to this spot and sating the burning desire to chase you. The problem is that the fire in his chest is bigger than he can handle. He’s seen how you treat the men you want to avoid on campus, he’s seen you take the long way home just to avoid a conversation and the thought of you doing that to him makes him wilt. He can’t let that happen.
His feet are carrying him across his room before he can even fully process it. He opens his closet and pulls out the brown flannel along with his brown beanie. They’ve become comfort items for the both of you at this point, especially the flannel. It feels like a thread connecting you to him and him to you. He needs to save that connection.
He sloppily throws on the items while he checks the clock. He’s nearly two hours late but there’s still time.
Hyunjin has never gotten a speeding ticket but he was nearly positive that he’d get one tonight. He made it to Minho’s place in record time but he’s panting when he knocks on the door like he’s ran there. His heart is hammering when Isa answers the door and the look on her face when she takes him in only makes his heart beat faster.
She forces a smile, inviting him in and telling him where everything is but he already knows all of that and she knows that he does. “She doesn’t want to see me does she?” Isa sighs, giving him a look that answers each and every one of his questions all at once.
“Thanks for letting me in.” He walks past her with a nervous huff, making his way into the small party and searching for you immediately. He finds Changbin and Chan before he can find you and the two quickly drag him into a conversation about gods know what while wedging a glass bottle of mystery liquid into his fist.
Hyunjin’s eyes wander in an attempt to find you as he ignores his friends' conversation. Luckily it didn’t take long for the sound of your loud laughter to echo through the room. His eyes were on you in an instant once he heard it. You’re right in front of him sitting in the truth or dare circle with a can of something strong in your hand. You’re always the loudest in the room but right now you seem to be the drunkest too, you shouldn’t be playing that game you’ll do something reckless.
He wants to go over and pull you up, he wants to tell you that you’re going home and that you need to sober up. He wants to get you to talk to him but he ignores everything he wants and watches you instead. He stays cautious and keeps his distance.
“Y/n, truth or dare.” One of your few girl friends, Harvey asks from across the circle. You answer ‘dare’ with a wide smile, it’s no surprise, you always pick that. The raven haired girl looks over to Mingi for assistance since she’s known for picking terrible dares. After a couple seconds of deliberation the blonde perks up with an idea.
“I dare you to kiss whoever this bottle lands on.” Mingi dares with a nonchalant smile and you shrug, the alcohol in your system is surely boosting your confidence but it’s not like you’ll remember any of this tomorrow so who cares, right?
He spins the bottle in the middle of the circle and everyone watches with quiet anticipation as it lands on the copper haired boy sitting three people away from you. It’s Jeongin.
He stops in the middle of sipping from his cup and flashes you a small innocent smile but what you return to him is nothing less than a look of raw seduction. You’re on your feet in an instant, making your way over to him with low and hazy eyes. You straddle him swiftly, getting comfortable in his lap like you’ve done this a hundred times.
“You sure about this, noona?” His hands rest on your thighs, he brushes his thumbs over the bareskin and you can feel a shiver down your spine. It almost reminds you of how Hyunjin touched you on your birthday.
“Do you not wanna kiss me?” You tease him with a slight slur to your voice. You know he wants to kiss you, everyone does except for Hyunjin, right?
Just as that thought passes your eyes flicker up and meet those of the very man on your mind. He’s watching you with an angry gaze as he fists the neck of the glass bottle in his hand. Your mouth goes dry as you take him in, when did he get here? You feel stuck staring at him, everything around you is suddenly muted and the people around you disappear. It’s only you and Hyunjin.
Both of your hearts are pounding in your chest.
Both of you feel like you can’t breathe.
Both of you are about to do something that you shouldn’t.
“Kiss her already!” Ryujin instigates from across the circle and you snap out of your haze and blink down at Jeongin. You both share a smile, one more genuine than the other, before he’s leaning into you. His lips just barely brush against yours before you’re interrupted.
A firm grip on your shoulder startles you and the man under you. You both look up to meet the eyes of the angry Hyunjin above you.“Get up.” He practically growls with a slight tug on your arm. You stare up at him with glassy eyes though you are feeling a bit more sober now. “Get. Up.”
You’re being pulled up before you can process it. Your feet fight to keep up with him as you stumble towards the bedroom he’s leading you to. You can feel all eyes on you, you can feel the room getting smaller once he locks the bedroom door behind the two of you and pulls his flannel off to drape over your shoulders, something that he does to comfort you.
“What the fuck?” That’s all you can manage to get out of your mouth as you stare over at him. He stares back with his arms crossed and his chest rising and falling with what you perceive as anger but he would describe as anxiety. Pure fear.
“Do you understand what you were about to do?” Hyunjin tries to be mindful of his tone. He tries to limit the waver of his words and calm the frantic thoughts in his head. He’s trying. “Why would you kiss him?”
“I didn’t.” The alcohol in your system takes over again and you thank the ridiculous amount of soju you’ve consumed for coming to the rescue. You tug on the flannel resting over your shoulders, pretending that its warmth would protect you from the buzzing in your head and inevitable burning in your chest.
“You would’ve if I didn’t stop you. What happened to you not being into Jeongin? What happened to you not wanting to hurt him?”
You groan, stomping your foot like a child being scolded by their guardian. Like the little girl who punched the brunette boy in the face for chasing her. “Why don’t you mind your business?”
Hyunjin scoffs, his anxiety grows in his chest and he takes a step back. “You are my business.”
It’s silent for one, two, three heartbeats before the dizzying emotions burning in your chest fill in the silence for you. “Well maybe I shouldn’t be. You’re way too attached to me.”
Hyunjin feels frozen even though he’s stepping back from you. He’s creating more space between the two of you just like you seem to be doing. What do you mean by that? You’re rambling on before he can ask. “You do all of these things that make me feel like I can’t breathe. You call me pretty and you touch me softly and you hold me close and… and you just make me feel hot. You suffocate me.”
Hyunjin whispers through the bubbles forming in his throat. He’s gentle with the way he speaks, he is a cautious person after all, especially when it comes to his art. “Is this about what I said at the gallery?”
His question goes in one ear and right out the other. Your brain formulates words quicker than you can process them, creating a violent episode of word vomit that threatens to spill over your lips and onto the carpet but you swallow hard and condense it all into one simple yet seering sentence. “You keep making my heart race, it’s not fair. You need to go, just go.”
Hyunjin’s blood runs cold and his temples throb like you’ve hit him. Like you’ve punched him in the face. Anxiety bubbles in his veins and swells behind his eyes. It’s his turn to ramble, the word vomit seems to be contagious.
“I’m not leaving.” His gaze is frantic, cautious, scared. “I am too attached, you’re right. I have been for a while. I’ve loved you for a while and I tried to hide it but I shouldn’t have to. I shouldn’t be scared that I’ll lose my best friend if I tell her that she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
“No, you are not confessing to me right now. Don’t you dare do that.” You pace to the left then the right in a hurried attempt to escape his words before they could reach you. He can’t be doing this right now. You needed to get out of here.
“I am. I am confessing to you. I need you to hear me say that I love you because I do and it scares me just as much as it scares you but you are the reason that it’s scaring me. Losing you is the reason that I’m afraid and I need you to tell me that that isn’t going to happen.” His voice is shaky just like your hands. He watches you like a dog being dropped off at the pound as you physically try to escape him. He knew this would happen, this is what he was afraid of.
“Stop. Just stop it, Hyunjin. You’re doing it again, I can’t breathe when you’re this close to me.” He stares over at you from the other side of the room and you stare back at him. This doesn’t make any sense. He isn’t next to you but you still can’t breathe. It doesn’t make any sense. “I have to go - I have - just… just leave me alone.” You turn towards the bedroom door but he speaks up before you can make your escape.
“I’m not going to chase you.” Hyunjin is unmoving. His feet are still planted to the floor like a statue as he slips his fists into his pocket. “I don’t want to push you further away but don’t you dare go home and convince yourself that I don’t care just because I let you go.”
You listen to him over your hammering heart with your back turned to him and your unsteady gaze trained on the worn door knob. “I’m letting you go with the hope that you’ll come back. You know where to find me.”
Your feet threaten to betray you, they try to turn you around and drive you over to him but your heart is screaming. That white flame is burning in your chest and begging you to run. Run as fast as you can and find safety, but your safety is standing behind you. It’s watching you with teary eyes that are desperate to meet yours.
A tear slips down your cheek as you grab the doorknob and pull it with a quick twist. You follow your heart and rush out of the room with tears decorating your face and your hand over your mouth. You let the burning win again.
You rush past everyone, Isa tries to stop you and Minho even catches you for a minute but you fight him off of you and make your way to the front door. You don’t get too far before the last layer of your resolve snaps, You turn onto the next dark block and sink to the ground. Sobs rip through you as Hyunjin’s words hang in your head. He loves you. He wants you but you left him. You left everything you’ve ever wanted behind you.
A heavier sob escapes you as the truth of it all comes crashing down. You love him too, don’t you? You’ve loved him for so long. Since your birthday and beyond that but you’ve been avoiding it. You’ve avoided your feelings just like you have everything else. You’ve punched yourself in the face, you’ve chased yourself into a corner and now you might just lose everything you have left. You might lose your best friend.
The storms over the next two days swirl the skies into mysterious clouds of pink and white as rain soaks the grass the same way that you’ve soaked your pillow for hours. You’ve opted to stay in, avoiding anything or anyone that could remind you of Friday’s catastrophe.
You’ve debated texting Jeongin and apologizing for what you remember of the situation. You almost called Isa to spill the fears bubbling in your lungs to her so that she could help you sort through them but she can’t. This is up to you. You need to make a choice. Will you run away from the fire or towards it?
On the other side of campus Hyunjin sits in the abandoned studio with paint stained hands and dried tears on his cheeks. He’s left his previous painting incomplete. The bright blushing rose sits across the room with the others just like it while he touches his brush to the canvas and smears a smoky mauve to the pristine white flesh. His lines are messy and uncalculated. Far from cautious.
For a moment he considers that he was only ever careful because of you. Your lack of control over your emotions inspired him to fill in the blanks for you. Now there’s no need for caution without you.
The rain carried into Monday along with the emptiness in your chest. You’ve typed and deleted paragraphs to Hyunjin who has done the same as he sat on the studio floor.
He stayed in the dusty room until midnight each day that he was without you and you stayed up well past then. He poured himself into painting and you poured yourself onto the carpet of your dorm room. You made lists and mapped your emotions until it all started to make a bit more sense. Until the love that burned alongside your hot white fear was glowing pink in the mirror.
You skipped your classes on Monday, your feet drove you over to the dead side of campus through the violent rain. You stood in the hallway outside of Hyunjin’s studio. The worn copper doorknob stared back at you like it knew what you were here to do. Like it was daring you to go inside. You suck in a breath as you grab the metal, you’ve never been one to back down from a dare.
The studio is empty when you walk inside. The fading warm light of the lamps that you and Hyunjin bought and snuck in illuminate the space the best that they can given the dull pink skies. Your eyes catch on the new piece sitting up on his easel. It’s dark and runny, it’s raw and it feels like it’s calling your name.
“Hi.” Hyunjin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. His voice is small and surprised as he stares over at your frame clad in that famous brown flannel and sweatpants.
“Hi.” You whisper back. He looks like a mess. Brown hat, pulled too far over his head and his hair spilling from every exit it can find. “More roses?”
He stares passed you and over at the wilting petals on the canvas with a sad smile. “It’s like I’m in love or something.”
Your guilt tinged heart beats a bit faster when he steps further into the room and closes the door behind him. He drops his bag next to the door and stares at the dinghy tile with his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. For everything, for the party and everything with your brother and for everything that I said.”
The word vomit is back. It spilled over your lips before you could attempt to swallow it back but you’re almost thankful for it. You have no clue how you’d get your words out otherwise. “You just made me feel… I just felt..” You kick at the cracked tile as if it holds the answers you’re looking for but Hyunjin beats you to it.
“Suffocated.” His eyes are on you now, they’re low and shadowed in a longing sadness. “I’ve seen this happen a million times to other guys and I thought that I was being careful enough to avoid it.”
“This is nothing like the other guys.” Your bag slumps off of your shoulder and you carelessly allow it to hit the floor. “Your confession just -” He cuts you off with a tight smile.
“I know. It ruined everything.” He sighs, sad eyes examining the space between the two of you. “I ruined everything and I’m sorry for that, rose. I really am.”
“It didn't. It didn’t ruin anything, it just scared me. I felt suffocated, yes, but not by you. It was by what I felt for you. That’s why this isn’t like what happened with any of the other guys. I never wanted them. Avoiding them was easy but you… avoiding you..” Hyunjin watches your heaving chest with the caution that he thought had abandoned him. He’s quiet, allowing you time to gather your thoughts. He doesn’t want to corner you, he just wants to hear you.
“Why do you call me that?” You whisper once your breathing has steadied. “Why did you start calling me rose?”
Suddenly he’s looking past you then down at the tile under his feet. He leans against the door behind him, a faint smile decorating his sad face. “You were wearing one in your hair on the day that I realized I love you.” He looks over to where his easel is set up. “We were sitting right there and you had a pale pink rose behind your left ear. You picked me one to match and I told you that it was my favorite flower because in that moment it was. It was beautiful but you…your beauty is hard to beat.”
Your heart is thumping in your ears, it’s a sound that you’ve grown comfortable with over the past few days. The clutter of the abandoned room almost seems to disappear as you process his words. The burning in your chest makes itself known along with the newly identified pink flame. The white walls of the studio almost seem brighter as you receive Hyunjin’s confession. You let it sink in and drown out the tension little by little. “So when you paint them…”
“I’m painting you. I’m always painting you.” The thumping is deafening but Hyunjin is clear over the noise. He has always been the only one who can cut through it all, even in your dreams.
You can feel yourself falling just like in your nightmare only it’s forwards. You’re falling forwards as your feet carry you to him. You run. You run to him and you fall into his arms that have been desperate to catch you for months. The burn in your chest is paralyzing, it’s seering and fighting the pink flame for dominance.
You cry into his chest, you sob as the pain of running into the fire engulfs you. It swallows you whole and you stand in it with him, you cling to him before you burn to ash and he holds you like he knows it all. He cradles the back of your head like he can feel the fire ripping your flesh apart.
You’re flush against him, tears soaking his shoulder and burning all over until he does what no one has done before. He puts it all out. A simple kiss to the top of your head dowses the flame and reduces it to a measly spark of fear overshadowed by an uncontainable pink and white glow of love in your chest.
You gasp at the cooling effect. Air rushes into your lungs and you can finally breathe, he’s the oxygen you needed. He’s everything you’ve needed but now you want to give your air away again. You want to give it all to him.
You pull away from his shoulder in one swift motion, your eyes are shut tight as your lips find his and you pull him into a hard and messy kiss. The sound that escapes you both is desperate and beautiful. His lips move with yours in an uncoordinated rhythm that makes your lungs burn comfortably. They burn the way that they’re supposed to.
Hyunjin cries into the kiss. Tears stream down his cheeks as he cradles you against him like you’d vanish if he didn’t. He drinks it all in, he allows himself to live in this moment that he’s been dying to have with you for what feels like an eternity before he reluctantly breaks the kiss.
His eyes are still closed when he pulls away. He whispers to you, careful not to crack the shell of this delicate moment. “I thought you -”
“I don’t want to keep running. I can’t, I need you. I can’t lose you.” Your eyes flutter open at the same time as his. He stares down at you with that smile in his eyes. That smile he has when he sees something beautiful, when he’s utterly enamored by the sight before him. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to do any of this, I only know that I want to do it with you.”
He’s quiet for a couple of seconds before a smile sneaks up on him. It fades just as quickly as it came and his eyebrows pinch together. “You want me?” You nod and the smile shows itself again.
“I want you.” He leans back in, cupping your cheek as he kisses you hard. His body pushes against yours and you move with him as he walks backwards towards one of the few empty desks and lifts you onto it.
His hands explore every inch of you that he can reach. He balls his fist over the baggy flannel hiding your body from him while your fingers tangle in his hair and scratch over his shoulders and up his arms.
He breaks the kiss to run his lips over the flushed flesh of your neck, he whispers into your skin between each kiss “Tell me to stop.” He pulls at the collar of the flannel to kiss the curve of your neck. “I’ve waited so long for this, please tell me to stop. Tell me to wait.”
You push his head further into the crook of your neck as you tilt your head further to give him better access. “I don’t want you to.” He sucks a mark into the skin right below your ear and you pull his tucked in shirt from his pants with an elated moan.
His clumsy fingers fight to unbutton the oversized flannel as yours attempt to unbutton his jeans. You reach your goal before he does and waste no time capitalizing on your victory. You dip your hand in just enough to fish his growing erection from his briefs and wrap your hand around it.
Hyunjin moans at the stimulation, leaning his forehead against yours and squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. “Fuck, please don’t, I wont - I can’t last.”
You kiss his temple softly, whispering reassurance that you don’t care to have him last, you just want to have him. Once he’s centered himself again he continues his struggle to expose your body to him. The final button falls open like the curtain to a play and he stares down your scantily clad torso like an audience in awe.
His hand moves on its own as he admires you. It dips into the waistband of your sweatpants and swipes over your clothed clit.
Your head falls forward to rest on his shoulder with a quiet moan as he groans into the air. Your grip on his cock tightens a bit in response to the sensation and he hisses. “Please tell me I can feel you. Is it okay? Can I?”
He doesn't want your first time to be here but he wants you. He needs you.
Hyunjin hooks a finger into the damp gusset of your panties and pulls it to the side just enough to slip a finger into your waiting cunt. You pant in his ear, wanton moans bubble over the brim of your lips as his free hand cradles the side of your neck. “Look at me, please look at me, baby.”
He runs his thumb over your cheek, brushing over the path of your dried tears. “So pretty, this must be a dream.” You shake your head. Speaking between moans. “Not a dream, baby.”
He slips in another finger as you circle your palm over the head of his cock and you both moan. “Please tell me I can.” He leans his forehead against yours, his desperate eyes reflect the look in your own.
“You can. Please, I want you to.”
“Have you ever thought about it?” He’s asking before he can process it and you’re shaking your head before he can even finish his sentence. A shy glaze washes over your desperate gaze as you watch him undress you.
“You’re all I ever think about.” He whispers as he hooks his thumbs into the band of your pants. “You’re all I’ve wanted for the past year.”
“I’ve loved you since my birthday.” You blurt out, vulnerable eyes peering into his. “Maybe even before that.” He runs a finger over your clothed cunt and you shudder under the touch.
“I wanted to kiss you the night of your birthday. You looked so beautiful but you were wasted. You wouldn’t have remembered. I just stared at you, I took your make-up off and I brushed the hair from your face and you stared back at me. I was just dying to kiss you. I was dying to confess.” Your hand runs slowly up his shaft and he swears that he feels electric.
“I wanted to kiss you too.” He’s quiet, staring back at you with a smile. “That’s why I was staring”
“I kissed your forehead when you fell asleep.” He pulls your panties down your legs, allowing them to pool at his feet with your sweatpants. “I knelt by your bed and whispered my confession to you.”
His fingers are filling you again and you gasp while staring into his eyes. “I wanna hear it.” You whisper through a moan.
“You want to hear my confession?” You nod, your gently fucked out gaze stares into his like your hypnotized by the moment. He scissors his finger into you, stretching you out just a bit before you’re gasping from the stretch of him replacing his fingers with his length.
“Fuck, you’re inside of me.” Hyunjin stills with a groan. His forehead rests on your shoulder while he silently begs himself not to come undone just yet. He sucks in a breath before he recites all that he can remember.
“You’re everything that I thought it would be to fall in love.” He whispers as he pulls back, thrusting into you slowly. “You really snuck up on me, I don’t know what I expected though.” He lifts his head to look at you as he sinks back into you. “You became my world so quickly. So effortlessly.”
You cup his face with both of your hands as you bite back your moans. You want to hear him loud and clear. You want to remember every word. “I should’ve known that I’d fall in love when I first met you.” He picks up the pace, falling into a messy rhythm that’s accompanied by a fit of moans and grunts.
He struggles to keep his eyes on you. They flutter shut with each thrust as he feels himself float closer and closer to his climax. “Baby, I won’t last.” You wrap your arms around his neck and one of his wraps around your waist while the other rests on your thigh before creeping over to softly pinch and rub your clit.
“Hyune, you’re gonna make me - gonna -” He cuts you off with a sloppy kiss, his tongue brushes over your parted lips to request access before making room for itself against yours.
“If you tell me that you’re gonna cum I won’t last another second.” He whispers against your lips and you moan against his.
“What if I tell you that I love you.” Hyunjin’s eyebrows pinch at the confession. That’s way worse than telling him that you’re close. “I’ve loved you back for as long as - as long as you’ve loved me.”
“Rose, baby, you’re gonna -” It’s your turn to kiss him now, it’s a mess of teeth and tongue but you love it. You love him and him you.
You both pull away in tandem, twin moans ripping through your chests as you both announce yourself to the other.
“I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” Hyunjin pulls out of you, painting your thighs in his sticky white release while his fingers toy with your clit to ride you through your orgasm. It’s loud and messy and beautiful. A romantic elegance that you want to live in for as long as it’s available.
Once you’ve both come down from your high Hyunjin kisses your sweaty forehead and you kiss his. He pulls his bottoms up before grabbing the cleanest paint rag he has to clean you up. A comfortable silence settles around you as you ground yourself and take in the space.
“You didn’t finish that one.”
He follows your gaze over to the painting of the pale pink rose. The middle of the canvas contrasts the rest with nothing but dull line art to show the completed picture. It looks like a work in progress. “I know, but I think I like it like that.” He looks back over at you and you at him.
“It looks like you."
It’s been seven months. Graduation has come and gone in the middle of your blooming relationship with Hyunjin and you’ve dedicated each and every second of your budding love to taming the flame.
Each kiss from him has kept the spark of fear at bay and each touch has taught you how to stop running. It’s been a slow and cautious process that he is more than proud to be a part of. He takes pride in it. He takes pride in being with you.
The smooth breeze of late summer brushes against your skin as you step out of your car. The white dress that Hyunjin picked out for you sticks to you like paint on a canvas as you make your way up to the art gallery.
It’s buzzing inside, people stand and stare in awe at each piece while whispering and pointing to their favorite details. You stop and stand in the middle of it all, taking it all in with a slow spin on the balls of your feet. You take in every corner until you turn around completely and you’re met with the face of the artist himself.
“Hi.” Hyunjin smiles down at you, brown baggy flannel hanging from his shoulders.
“Hi.” You stare back at him with a gleaming smile in your eyes. You take in every inch of him, scanning him like he should be framed and hanging on the walls around you.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Hyunjin wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I like staring at you.” Your response makes him beam a shy smile.
“You should be staring at the art. The artist might get sad if you don’t.” He kisses your forehead before letting you go. Some people around you stare over at the two of you with curious eyes. They’re eager to put a face to the muse of the showing artist.
You take his hand and lead him over to the piece that a couple is walking away from. You stand in front of it hand in hand as you study it for what feels like the millionth time. “This one is my favorite.” The incomplete pale pink rose stares back at you.
“And why is that?” Hyunjin has that smile in his eyes as he stares up with you. The memory of this piece's origin plays behind his eyes like a memorized movie.
“I’ve been told that it looks like me.” You lay your head on his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. A chill runs up his spine and he blames it on you. You and the love he feels glowing pink and white around you.
“There you are.” History repeats itself as the lady that you’ve come to know as Dalia interrupts the two of you. “I wanted to check in with you, how does it feel to finally have your own exhibition?”
Hyunjin smiles at her politely, turning towards her a bit with his fingers still threaded through yours. “It’s amazing. Thank you, you’ve done a wonderful job putting this together.”
“Oh, please, it’s nothing. This is all you.” You watch her as her eyes smile just as they always have. Her hand brushes over his arm in a carefully calculated move. She’s still shameless and unprofessional. “This piece is my favorite. The unfinished look is unique and raw. What inspired this one?”
You grin to yourself as you listen to her. She’s trying so hard that it’s difficult not to laugh.
“Actually.” Hyunjin pulls your hand a bit, leading you forward so that you’re right next to him. It’s impossible for Dalia to ignore you now. Her eyes scan you reluctantly and the smile on her face falters for a second before she pulls it together. Gosh, that's gratifying.
“My lovely rose here is the inspiration for it all.” Hyunjin looks over at you with a glow that is unmatched even by the largest of flames. “None of this would be possible without her.”
It’s like Dalia disappears once Hyunjin looks over at you. You’re the only two in the room as far as you’re concerned. “Oh, well that’s just - that’s wonderful.” Her staggered speech pulls you both out of your loving haze.
“Such a … sweet profession of love.” She glares over at you though you’re sure that in her head she’s doing a wonderful job at hiding her contempt. “I should make sure that everything is running smoothly. Please excuse me.”
She clears her throat awkwardly before she departs, you and Hyunjin both bid her smiling farewells before turning to each other with wide smiles. “Show off.” You push his shoulder playfully and he laughs.
“I didn’t do anything.” You roll your eyes as you both wander over to the next piece on the wall. You stare up at the two pink roses in a lone vase, a shadow of sunlight casts down on them both as they rise towards its shining glow.
A comfortable silence blankets the two of you while you listen to the soft buzz of the people around you. You squeeze his hand softly and he squeezes back just as you open your mouth to speak.
“She still wants to fuck you.” He smiles
“Shut up.”
Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you thought about this fic! Leave a comment or send an ask to let me know! ❣️
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#hyunjin x reader#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids#hyunjin smut#skz smut#hwang hyunjin x reader#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin x you#skz hard thoughts#stray kids smut#skz#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz hyunjin#stray kids fanfic#stray kids hyunjin#stray kids imagines#hyunjin stray kids#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin scenarios#hyunjin x y/n#stray kids hard thoughts#hwang hyujin imagines#skz scenarios#skz au#skz imagine#skz hyunjin smut
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in the morning light
synopsis - what it's like sharing a bed with them
includes - aventurine, gallagher, sunday, robin, boothill
warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst, i have no clue what im doing, might be ooc, wc - 1.2k
a/n: i have absolutely no clue what this is... im trying to write requests but i feel weirdly rusty and so i needed to do something random and well... this is it i guess?
aventurine ★↷
↪he has settled for a very long time to have bare minimum as his bed, practically nothing in some cases, and so now he over indulges himself. we've all seen the official art and the animation, he has one of the comfiest beds known.
↪anything you need, he's got it for you no questions asked or thought about. he does care quite abit about how he presents himself so he has quite the nightly routine but it's not that extensive, so if you wish to do yours alongside he wouldn't mind one bit.
↪naturally a light sleeper - the slightest sound or movement can wake him. aventurine is also quite prone to frequent nightmares which cause him to wake up in a cold sweat everytime. he doesn't wish to burden you however and so he tries to keep his movements to a minimum when your beside him.
↪he doesn't say anything but he always loves it when you wrap your arms around him and let him rest his head on your chest. it's very comforting to him. he feels safe in your arms and listening to your heartbeat brings him that reassurance that you are real and there for him.
↪unfortunately due to his work he can get very early morning calls which cause him to wake up early and begrudgingly leave you behind - he'd never wake you but places a kiss on your forehead before leaving. however if he has the day off, he becomes extremely clingly and refuses to move and further intertwines his body with yours.
gallagher ★↷
↪as a bloodhound, he doesn't normally stay the whole night as he might be called out to deal with whatever problem penacony has then. this can feed into a reluctance to join you in bed as he knows he wouldn't be able to leave if he did so.
↪he isn't one that cared about comfort or a good night sleep, so his bed was always bare minimum with one or two pillows and a blanket. although if you're one for more than he wouldn't mind buying anything you wanted to add.
↪doesn't really have a bedtime routine. most of the time he gets straight home from work and is very content to just collapse onto the bed beside you without even changing. most of his routine is spent in the morning trying to make himself look a bit more presentable for the day - he is very prone to drastic bed hair.
↪if he knows he wont be called out or has the next day off, he will happily join you in bed and becomes dead to the world. can be a very heavy sleeper if he knows he can allow himself to be.
↪gallagher can also be extremely clingy - on purpose. he enjoys holding you in his arms knowing that he can protect you and keep you close. so good luck if you have places to be because gallagher will have you in a tight bear hug which he won't let up any time soon.
sunday ★↷
↪he is normally very busy as the head of the oak family but he knows how important it is to keep up with things like sleeping to be able to actually function, so he tries his hardest but does has a tendency to put work first.
↪that being said, he does have a very high standard when it comes to his actual bed - he's sort of a mix because he likes having the comfiest things but he wouldn't complain otherwise. therefore he can be very accommodating to your needs.
↪he cares about his public appearance very much and so he has a very quick but efficient nightime and morning routine, he doesn't like spending time on such trivial matters but he needs to look pristine. sometimes if you're lucky enough you can see his wings looking very disheveled in the morning.
↪he probably didn't like the idea of sharing a bed to start with but he'd warm up to the idea much further into the relationship. although he isn't exactly one for cuddles, he much prefers that you have your own seperate sides of the bed - he'd be rather insistent on having his space.
↪sometimes you'd forget he's sleeping beside you. he barely moves at all and stays way too still to the point that you get a little weirded out, the only sign that he's still loving is the occasional flutter of his wings.
↪gets up super early. like way too early but he doesn't press you to get up at the same time unless you have somewhere to be. even if he doesn't have anywhere to be he gets up early because it's a habit for him.
robin ★↷
↪she can be equally as busy as her brother but most of the time she'd love nothing more than to end her day cuddled up beside you - her daily schedule can be much more accommodating to having a healthy sleep schedule.
↪as a very popular singer, she does need to keep up her appearance and so she has a very extensive and detailed nightime routine that she doesn't mind you joing her for if you wished. same goes for her morning routine.
↪robin is quite used to having many things and that translates into her bed as it has very fluffy blankets and lots of pillows. although she doesn't mind changing a few things if that isn't exactly your style.
↪a surprisingly light sleeper but she can move around quite a bit in her sleep. not exactly drastic movements but more small scale actions to readjust herself very often. she can be a massive cuddle bug so sometimes she does accidentally move you around with her.
boothill ★↷
↪chasing one bounty after another doesn't leave much room for somebody to lay low and have a proper rest. being a cyborg doesn't really help that case either as he doesn't exactly need to sleep to function - does he even need to recharge?
↪boothill really only started caring about sleep or 'recharging' when you came along. that being said, he doesn't exactly have a permanent place to stay so you might have to accommodate a cyborg into your room - but he is very adaptable and respectful of your space.
↪it becomes a moment for you two just to relax and unwind, he no longer has to worry about anything and can spend his time holding you. he probably can 'sleep' as a way to recharge but he becomes like a log and doesn't move at all until he's ready to go.
↪he does have a love hate relationship with having care routines, i do believe that he probably values his hair alot as it's the only remaining part of him from his life as a human but other than that he only looks after the rest of himself to make sure he doesn't malfunction.
↪he doesn't dare wake you unless you've specifically asked him too. so sometimes you may wake up to see him staring at you but you would learn to deal with that...
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#—stellaronhvnters.#x reader#x gender neutral reader#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr x you#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail x gender neutral reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail aventurine#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#honkai star rail gallagher#hsr gallagher#gallagher x reader#honkai star rail sunday#hsr sunday#sunday x reader#honkai star rail robin#hsr robin#robin x reader#honkai star rail boothill#hsr boothill#boothill x reader#boothill x you
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Hi! I love all of your writing, could please do Benedict and best friend reader at a ball and he over hears some girls bullying reader and goes OFF and reader runs off and he thinks he’s embarrassed her but when he finds her she explains she found it super hot and then some smut please! 💖
You are in love 1 || B.B
Pairing: Benedict bridgerton x best friend! Reader, + Polin
Warning: fem! reader, no description of reader, friendly flirting and teasing, mutual pinning, use of inappropriate words, reader has a step sister. Fluff and angst, part 1 of you are in love. Part : 2 will be smut
Rigel's note 🪩: Thank you for requesting, and the compliment<3333 *smooches* I hope you don't mind me doing it in two parts :) the title is taken from Taylor Swift's song " you are in love", it popped as soon as I read best friend reader, hope it's not as bad as it's in my head, sending love back, also part 2 soon.
" Perks of being a woman, you don't have to dance with Eloise bridgerton." You remarked when it was the fifth time Eloise stepped on lord White's toe.
Benedict snorted on his lemonade as he looked at you sideways, his iconic lop sided grin plastered to his smug face.
" I was her dance partner, " Benedict fake sniffed, wiping the fake tear, ", that too, before she started lessons."
You winced at the idea of Eloise before her lesson and gave Benedict a pat on his back for being ever the sacrifice.
" I thought that's why you danced wierd " you told him, smiling when he looked at you scandalously.
" Excuse me ?! " He narrowed his eyes, " you take that back ! " He slammed the glass down with force.
" Will not, you dance like...like a snowman ! " You beamed, slamming your fan down and glaring back, nose to nose, eye to eye.
" That never stopped you from dancing with me." He said smugly and retreated to his space with a satisfied look in his eyes when your jaw slacked slightly.
" You don't dance like a snowman with me." you told him in a small voice and that's when it hit you how gracefully he twirled you around when he was practically running away from other beautiful young ladies.
Benedict smiled, his eyes twinkling at you as he raised his brow, like in a question.
" And why would you think that ? " His mouth twisted and you didn't know what to say.
" Perhaps because I dance well...? " You tried and despite it being not the answer he expected, he laughed all the same.
" You dance like a ... a Kangaroo." Benedict thought hard and a muscle in his jaw twitched, he smiled proudly when he got the right word to annoy you.
" What's a kangaroo ? " You asked, you had heard it somewhere but it was easier to ask him than think hard.
" It's like..." Benedict motioned with his hands something like a vase," it's a cute animal." He finally said when nothing more could be made out from his gestures.
"Oh." You nodded and then it hit you, " Did you just call me an ANIMAL ?! " You snarled at him and he shaked his head with a chuckle.
" I called you cute too." He squabbled.
" Kangaroo's aren't cute ! " You jabbed at him and he chuckled, grabbing your wrist firmly, a spark so bright jolted inside you and you felt your face grow hot.
" Then I don't dance like a snowman—" you sticked your tongue out at him and he was lost in words, just looking, you saw the opportunity and yanked your hand away from his grip. He relented like a gentleman.
" You are always like..like running away and leaning off while dancing and it's so so snowman like." You argued and Benedict's eyes twinkled like moon.
" Have you seen a snowman waltzing ? " Benedict asked and you shaked your head, while clutching at your chest, you couldn't help the giggling.
" Yes if we are talking about a tall, handsome and smug snowman."
" You think I am handsome ? " Benedict ducked his head closer to your face and you felt your breath hitching in your throat, like air was punched out of your chest.
You rolled your eyes when it became too apparent that no word would come out of your traitorous throat and you couldn't help but gaze back at him, he looked back just the same, all fire and blaze.
" You didn't answer my question." He said slowly, each word carefully and it squeezed your heart how close his face was, how beautiful those eyes were, and that nose, and those cheeks, those lines when he smiled, he oftened and it was so warm and gorgeous, how you never noticed how captivating he was, every atom of his body was tied with an invisible thread with yours, a golden one. And you would be damned to think of that mouth, your lips parted at the ethereal site and Benedict smiled at that.
" No." You just said it, eager to say anything and break this moment, it was swirling you around in a storm.
" No ? " He questioned, frowning and he was handsome at that too, you were so doomed.
" You are silly like handsome, like some lord Byron poetry." you murmured softly, safe guarding the hammering heart in your chest and blinking at the sudden burn from his gaze on you, drinking you in, his brow knitted in funny way, a mock annoyance crossed his face.
" Lord Byron ?! Really, " he dropped back to his seat and you finally took a breath, then he covered his face like a damsel in distress and when he glanced sideways at you, he was smiling his brightest, oh, you just realised how goofy and precious and mesmerizing his smile was, you wished to stop time and paint it under your lids so everytime you close your eyes, you could meet him there, in your secret gardens and then a death like that would be sweeter.
" What ? " You exasperated when he refused to look away, even when your nose wrinkled and face basked in it's warmth, he wouldn't let go of you, taking each and every detail in like he was wishing to stop time too and paint you. He could, he was an artist.
" You called me poetry..." His mouth quirked up in a delightful grin, like it explained all the merry and you groaned, looking away as you huffed the tingling in your body that wouldn't go, your eyes landed on a very eventful moment.
" Is that our Colin ? " You raised your brow at Benedict who sat up straighter and turned his gaze to the other side of the hall.
" Why is he eye murdering lord Debling ? " You asked him, he winked and pulled your chair closer, not caring if any mama saw or perhaps lady whistledown herself.
" Penelope is dancing with lord Debling, and well she's laughing at something too, oh—" Benedict whispered in the shell of your ear and you barely nodded, Colin looked like he had enough, he was making his way through the crowd towards Pen.
" Forty shillings if he punches lord Debling." You piped up, Benedict shaked his head.
" You are gonna lose cupcake, he's gonna take Miss Featherington's hand and—" you gasped when Colin stopped abruptly, said something urgently and took Penelope's wrist between his hand, Benedict cocked his head to his side and winked smugly.
" And ? " You drawled and it amused Benedict beyond limits, like he has been waiting for it.
" Birds and bees." He said in a code like hushed whisper, you smacked the back of his head.
" I don't have a mother, you know." You told Benedict and he touched his upper lip with the tip of his pink tongue, he nodded along knowingly.
" Well, someone's gotta teach you."
" Mm.. you are my best friend." You would look anywhere but at him but your eye's were locked in his, he was being brave then so can you. One step, not much.
" I can not tell you birds and bee." Benedict said sincerely.
" Colin helped Pen ! " You said, nose flaring as he worried his jaw but didn't say anything.
" He told her how kids are made, something like going to a farm and then...well he kissed her but that's not the point." You blurted in a whisper, he listened intently.
" He kissed her already ? "
" Well a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell but a lady can, but that's not the point! " You pouted, his resistance crumbled but then again, bloody bridgerton.
" That's not my place cupcake." He was breathing hard, his mouth would open and snap close again, taking back all the things left unsaid.
" Well then—" you hated how choked your voice got, you tried, didn't you, it's not like you left it on god's cue, this was the biggest hint you could have given him and if he didn't got this, then only bricks might work.
Give him one more, a small voice said in your head, it was yours, but stronger and braver than you.
" —then you can tell me about love."
Benedict laughed on that, like it was the funniest thing you had said.
" You know what? I take it back, I am gonna ask someone—" you smoothed your skirt and began to get up when he pulled you down.
" Sorry, I didn't mean that, sorry, don't go leaving me stranded." He pleaded.
You looked at him hard, looking for any sign of humour and you found none, he was glittering when he clapped his tongue and opened his mouth, his soft tongue resting like a tired cat.
" Love," he began," is like music."
" Like music." You repeated, struggling with the fit laughter that shook your shoulders.
Benedict glanced at you offended but when he spoke next, it was how the poets said, with longing and desire, like bleeding for your beloved and when no blood was left then it was ink and parchment.
" You can hear it in the silence." He said, you remembered those afternoons when no word was said between you and your bestfriend and yet nothing was hidden and left unsaid.
" You can feel it on your way home." He said, penetrating his gaze in you eyes and he remembered damn well that night after he rescued you from the lake when you almost drowned, the terror of losing you, the spark of holding you closer than ever.
" You can see it with the light's out, it's so bright and golden." Everything is more beautiful with you Benedict, you told him one Sunny afternoon, basking under a tree while he read you poetry, Better than Byron.
" Loving that one person will make you love yourself, with them, you are enough." He was whispering now, chest heaving as his hand trembled and unknowingly yours found his under the table, locked eye's and joined hands and sacred whispered chants. It was enough.
" You aren't too much, or too little, or loud or boring, you don't have to be interesting or witty or anything, being youself with them is enough." I like myself with you, he had told you when you were sixteen.
" That's love, being safe with them is love, being their home is love, to be able to leave all shades behind and be naked in just body and soul and not being afraid, not being embarassed is love."
" Benedict..." Your voice was soft and sweet and it took him a moment to realise he was crying, when you gently wiped it's proof with your handkerchief.
" I...I will be back in a moment—" he stumbled out, still smiling a small smile and oh god what you have done, you have ruined him as well your self and nothing will ever be the same.
" Yes...." You said, because he was waiting for your approval, he nodded back when he got it and disappeared amongst the crowd as you watched him leave.
Love was indeed like music, the one you liked, it could be light as bee buzzing and sharp as thunder roaring in clouds, it could be slow and rhythmic and soft like water flowing, it could be the sound of his laughter and the way he drew his breath, it could be how he whined and joked and played and teased, for you, love was the music and muse of Benedict bridgerton and yes, you were very much doomed.
" What a pleasant site, a spinster smiling on her own, have you planned some scandalous plan of yours to bag some noble man ? " Claire wheezed in a duckling like laughter, shared with Asha Patil and Gissele Turner.
You refused to say anything, it only further added spice to their boring marital lives, with their husbands out and wombs empty.
" Would you look at her ? She's giving us that attitude, no wonder she's still unmarried ! " Scowled Asha, with her frizzy hair and crooked nose, her eyes coated in loathing of most tainted kind.
" She might had gotten the ring if she wasn't being Mr. Bridgerton's bitch." Gissele whispered it down to you and anger shot up through your veins and your eyes snapped to her, it didn't matter if she was your elder sister and the rage that blinded you was so fierce that you didn't feel when two big tears rolled down your cheek.
" Don't cry now, you can always be his mistress atleast." They all laughed, loud and big and white teeth flashing, with their fake diamond rings rubbing in your eyes but it was too blur, you saw nothing, you heard nothing, everything was drowning around you.
" Speaking of mistresses, Lord Hasting has bought a bigger estate for his mistress than your home in east London and I wouldn't blame him lady Hasting."
You can hear it in the silence.
It was your love's voice, it was your Benedict speaking and you lifted your mascara stained lashed eyes at him.
If you had known him less than you couldn't have known of the terrible anger that was shaking him, that smile was no ordinary, it was feral and stray, wanting to tear anyone who dared to come near, he was burning in anger that was beyond words.
Claire sizzled at that remark, turning her hand to her palm side and only moments ago she was flashing her ring and now, she was hiding it.
" Don't ruin your reputation by showing ungratefuls such as her your pity Mr. Bridgerton." It would've hurt less, were it Claire or Asha, but it was your own half sister, be it half blood but blood all the same.
" Lady Turner, i have no wish to speak to you, you have hurt my best friend beyond words, you had taken her affections for granted so if someone's ungrateful then it's sorely you, you don't deserve a sister like her, she's too good for all of us." He was carefully placing the word and his anger slipped between, his teeth grinded and breath hitched, you stared, just at him and him, everything was getting dimmer but you knew in that moment, you would know him in darkness.
you can feel it with the light's out.
He had done many things for you, Benedict stole Anthony's horse to take you out on a midnight ride, he nicked Colin's sword and taught you fencing, bought ribbons of your favourite pastel silk, saved your favourite sweets, and so many and so more, but this was something you couldn't have done yourself if you wanted, he had done it, he had stood up for you and it was the most gleaming moment of your life, he wasn't playing hero, he wasn't being mean, he was protecting your with your honour and Benedict, the gentleman who wouldn't hurt a fly, he was going to dagger them down with words alone.
He was speaking and speaking and they were all quiet, their eyes low and nose bowed down, he was speaking and speaking, words clear with pure affection and respect and then your felt it.
The warmness aroused in your womanhood and an inaudible gasp parted through your lips as you felt the slicky wet feeling caress your inner thigh and the sensation was so electrifying that you had to close your eyes in order to take a breath and even then, you could feel his words, soft and praising, " ......if you were half good as a woman she is....." He was breathless and he wasn't stopping and something inside you wanted to cup his face and tell him, don't Stop, never stop.
And then his eyes looked for you, he found your gaze and held it and you felt the shame, you couldn't do this to him, this burning desire would take you both down in flames and what it would be to become one, only in ashes, it was scaring you.
And before you could think of say anything, you were already on your feet, stumbling through the crowd with your gown kissing the floor behind you.
You didn't know where you were going but far, away and this feeling wouldn't let go, you knew well but you wanted air, the warmness that was spreading was maddening and the hunger was tugging under your skin.
He was calling out your name, you hated yourself but you needed to run, this love would ruin you, what if Benedict hated you if you told him how you felt, how you thought about him, would he call you a whore along with Gissele, would it hurt more ?
More than anything.
His voice turned to pleading as crowd thickened and you were getting out of his sight. You wouldn't look back, because if you did then you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from doing something very stupid.
You were out of the gates, descending down the stairs as one heel slipped out but you didn't care, you were on a run.
Johnny was already motioning the horses as you frantically climbed in, you could see Colin chasing down Penelope's carriage in a distance as you opened the window to inhale heavy gulps of air.
Would Benedict Chase you down too ? Would he come and look for you ? And if he did, what would you tell him ?
You are my best friend.
#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton#Benedict bridgerton x reader#Benedict bridgerton x you#Benedict bridgerton x y/n#Benedict bridgerton x female reader#Benedict bridgerton x fem!reader#Benedict bridgerton imagine#Benedict bridgerton fluff#Benedict bridgerton angst#Polin#Colin x Penelope#bridgerton s3#x reader#Benedict bridgerton fics#Benedict bridgerton smut#x reader fluff#x reader angst#bridgerton s2#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton x reader#taylor swift#1989#you are in love#folkloregurl fics🪩
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My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys | Charles Leclerc
SUMMARY: After being mia for a year, Y/n comes back better than ever ready to talk about her six year relationship, through music.
FACE CLAIM: Lola Tung
pairings: Singer! Reader x Charles Leclerc
a/n: sorry for also being mia!! i’ve been working with uni and publishing my book! i hope you guys enjoy
david.iacono via instagram
liked by logansargent, minnie.mills and 100,427 others
tagged: y/n.l/n_
david.iacono our girl is finally making a comeback!!
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user102 i’m sorry but she’s alive?!
user15 y/n is finally back!!
user12 omg finally!! i missed her so so much
user4579_ i’ve missed you in the paddock
minnie.mills she’s back!!!
user101 wait? our girl? what happened to charles?
-> user15 im pretty sure they broke up! she hasn’t been seen anywhere for the past year and that includes everything related to charles.
-> user278 they don’t even follow each other on instagram anymore!
y/n.l/n via insta stories. minnie.mills via insta stories.
y/n.l/n via insta
liked by charles_leclerc and 1,820,278 more.
y/n.l/n guess who’s back with great news!! if you’ve been following me for a while you would now how much i love musical theater and i’m forever thankful for giving life to eurydice in hadestown!
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user10 our queen is back and she’s going to broadway?! omg guys!!!!!
user78 it’s happening!!!
user57 you did it y/n!!!
user17 i feel like a proud mother, congrats!!
minnie.mills broadway is shaking in their boots!! Just wait till they hear the album!
-> user890 the album?! what album??
-> user27 omg omg omg
-> y/n.l/n thank you for spoiling the album
user19 i don’t know what’s crazier, the album announcement in the comments or charles in the likes
y/n.l/n posted a video via insta.
liked by arthur_lecler, carlossainz55 and 2,920,831 others.
y/n.l/n. decided to give you guys a preview of a song I've been writing since I was gone, hope you guys enjoy!! xoxo
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user28 no fucking way!!!
user2901 I'm going to puke
user290 we can all agree this song is about Charles, right?!?! I can't be crazy
user190 this is so crazy
user789 but what’s the name of the song?
-> y/n.l/n my boy only breaks his favorite toys
-> user17 it keeps getting worse and worse for charles
user219 if this is the preview of the album she's writing if I were Charles I would start hiding
user89 once I fix me, he's gonna miss me?!?!? she ate I fear
user19 I guess the new album is a disstrack
user55 well at least we know who arthur and carlos side with in the breakup
user26 charles pr team should get to work
y/n.l/n via insta.
liked by charles_leclerc, chrisbriney_ and 920,194 more.
y/n.l/n opening night was a hit! thank you for everyone that waited for me to heal and supported me all the way, i love you guys. good things are coming soon
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user78 you are so mega talented!! you deserve this and more
user891 the caption seems shady?
user178 oh charles what did you do
charles_leclerc congrats xoxo
-> user16 i don’t know what shocks me more, charles commenting or his xoxo
-> user89 once i fix me, he’s gonna miss me…
patriciooward via insta stories!
y/n.l/n via instagram !
liked by patriciooward, minnie.mills and 3,991.782 others
y/n.l/n all’s fair in love and poetry…new album THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT. out on friday!
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user189 omg?!? we’ve been getting so much content
user167 they could never make me hate you charles
patriciooward congrats cariño 🤍
-> user78 come again?
-> user67 pato what are you doing here?!
user78 i’m scared, if this is something about charles never proposing im going feral
user589 honestly i can’t wait until friday someone leak it!!
user67 please be ready charles
charles_leclerc 🤍
#charles leclerc x you#charles lecrerc fanfic#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#pato o'ward#pato o’ward x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 social media au#f1 x taylor swift#imagines#smau#f1 x you#f1 x reader#formula one fanfiction#f1 fic#lola tung#taylor swift#the tortured poets department
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The Doll House | Alt. Ending
warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (f.rec), fingering, pussy slapping, overstimulation, !dark content! murder, possession, blood, manipulation, lots of mentions to hell, soul selling, please read the a/n
wc: 14.3k
heeseung (true ending) | masterlist
synopsis: once heeseung sells you an offer you can't refuse, it's up to you to reap what you sow. sooyeol's return and revelations put your world in wonder as you contemplate the implications of your greed and who you truly are
a/n: hi! this is a highly requested alternate ending to tdh! this takes place just after heeseung offers y/n to sell her soul in his chapter (pls read that first before this!), i hope this is what you guys wanted! i had so much fun writing it so i hope you enjoy reading it <3 there's a twist in this one that might be confusing but i think i have explained it thoroughly enough but as always, feel free to ask for clarification. likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are all welcome <3
"If you want this life," he starts, his stare fixed on you, "Let me give it to you." He promises you the future your spirit so desperately desires with a voice that is both powerful and supple, promising support and unfaltering devotion.
A part of you yearns to leap up and accept, drawn to the allure of the life he promises. Yet, you can hear a distant warning of whispers in the recesses of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of such a choice. You can't ignore the lessons learned from Soonyeol's fate, knowing that trading one form of captivity for another may not be the answer. She is happy right now but for how long could she possibly stay that way?
"Y/N?" Jaeyun's voice breaks through the haze, its urgency slicing through the intimate moment with Heeseung. It reverberates down the halls, each bounce signalling his approach, yet the vastness of the mansion keeps him at a distance, prolonging the inevitable interruption.
You tear yourself away from Heeseung’s grip, sitting up as you dare not to look at him, “I can’t have this life, Heeseung. This belongs to Soonyeol.”
As you move to get up and dress, Heeseung grips your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, studying you with an intensity that leaves your soul feeling exposed, laid bare before him.
"Say the word and she's gone, Baby," he murmurs, his voice low and determined. The fondness and devotion he once held for his minder seem to fade into the background as he tries to persuade you to stay.
Your eyes widen in disbelief at his implication; how could he suggest getting rid of Soonyeol so easily, especially someone who gave their soul to him? While he may believe it's what you want to hear, his words only serve to deepen your doubts about his loyalty and commitment. If he can toss her aside, how quickly will it take him to move on from you?
Pulling his hand from your face, you hold it against your chest, “You told me you don’t break your promises, Heeseung,” you gently confront him. Yet, as you look into his eyes, you see sincerity within them, making you question whether he means his words to you.
“Y/N? Where are you?” Jaeyun shouts once again, panic in his vocals.
“Let me give you your desires,” Heeseung’s lips upturn as he watches your brain fight itself between yielding and defying your urges.
“Y/N? Can you answer me?”
“Come on, Y/N, say it. Tell me you want this.”
“Please answer me!”
Your body instinctively leans into Heeseung's touch, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze as he strokes your cheek with a gentle caress. It's as if you're caught in a trance, captivated by the magnetic pull of his presence.
Heeseung has this way of making you surrender, like without even owning your soul, he still has it in his possession. You’re tied to him in a way that no one can grasp. You should flee, run to the sound of Jaeyun’s voice and yet, you stay put, leaning closer to Heeseung with a heavy need for the life he is offering.
There’s no way you can say no. So you don’t.
“I want this, Heeseung.”
A sinister smirk etches on his face and a dark chuckle heaves from his chest as he witnesses your resolve crumble away and the girl he needs you to be, start to appear. He has you hook, line, and sinker, and he could not be fucking happier.
His eyes begin to cloud with that crimson hue that used to scare you but now you look at them with a sense of satisfaction; they help you look at yourself in the reflection and see a girl ready to take what is hers, to be selfish for once. After living a life of chasing fulfilment and desires, Heeseung is helping you finally achieve it.
There is still guilt in the pit of your stomach for Soonyeol because once she comes back from her trip, you don’t know what Heeseung will do to her. That is a thought you can’t bear to wonder about too extensively but you need to make sure that she lives and finds a peaceful life elsewhere; only then can your guilty conscience be eased and you can forever embrace this life.
“I’ll make you so fucking happy, baby. I will give you everything you could want and more,” Heeseung mumbles into your bare shoulder, still sticky from the passionate exchange you’ve just had. His lips are so gentle, a juxtaposition from the raw fucking he just blessed you with moments ago.
Leaning back, you gaze into his eyes once more, they tell a tale of lust and admiration even within the red clouds. But yours are focused on the safety of Soonyeol. “What will you do to Soonyeol? Please don’t kill her…”
Smiling, he strokes your cheek fondly, “You’re still a good girl after all, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll fuck that out of you soon enough.” Heeseung’s manner is playful yet this is serious for you, you need his word that Soonyeol will not succumb to a deadly fate.
“Please, Heeseung. There is no deal if you kill her,” you reiterate, voice holding a stern undertone while it wavers slightly. “I won’t be yours.”
Heeseung does not like that, his eyes narrow dangerously and his fingers, which were once delicately ghosting your cheek, now grip your jaw harshly, bruising the delicate skin. “You don’t get to make demands around here, baby.”
Fear surges through you, but you summon your courage, meeting his fierce gaze with as much defiance as you can muster. “If you want me to stay, then you’ll promise me she’s safe,” you insist, your voice steadier than you feel.
You and Heeseung are locked in a stare-off, both of you unyielding in your demands. He knows despite feeding into your desires, you still have that damn moral compass, and if he wants you to fully be his - mind, body, and soul - he needs to work with you, at least for now.
Knowingly, Heeseung relents, his grip loosening on your jaw as he nods. “I won’t kill her, I’ll make sure her soul is alive and well. Trust me, baby.”
And in some strange turn of events, you do trust him. You don’t know if it’s the proximity of his body to yours or the intimate aftermath of your recent encounter, but you find yourself believing in his promise despite the darkness that surrounds him.
“We need to seal the deal, so to speak,” he grins, his thumb wiping roughly over your bottom lip, pushing it down seductively as he inches closer. This is it, you think to yourself, once you kiss him, you’ve given yourself over to him.
Being owned by a Prince of Hell should terrify you, like most of the happenings in this house should have, yet just like every time, it feels right. You do belong to him in some twisted fate, and you feel it more in this moment than ever. Perhaps he is coaxing your mind to surrender to him, or maybe it’s just pure want, for both Soonyeol’s life and the Prince she once called hers.
Swallowing any apprehension you have, you whisper a silent ‘okay’, giving yourself over with consent, much to Heeseung’s delight. And without a second thought, his lips collide with yours once again, his hand cradling the back of your head as he lays you back down on the bed, kissing you with as much fervour as he can manage.
In that heated moment, as your lips meld with his, you feel a surge of conflicting emotions. There's desire, undeniable and fierce, coursing through your veins, mingling with a sense of trepidation at the path you're willingly treading.
Heeseung's kiss is both intoxicating and consuming, his passion igniting a fire within you that threatens to engulf your senses. His hands roam your body with possessive urgency, as if claiming you as his own in every possible way.
As the kiss intensifies, the world around you melts away, leaving only you and Heeseung locked in an eternal embrace. It's as if nothing else matters in this moment but the raw, unholy connection that you share with him. You feel your veins pulsing and your heart racing, like you’re shedding your old self to make way for someone new.
In this moment, you choose to embrace the darkness and submit to the irresistible pull of hunger and temptation. For better or worse, you've made your decision, and there is no turning back now.
“Heeseung, have you seen Y/N?” Jaeyun’s voice rings through the door as he chaps it softly. His voice is laced with concern, the tremble of his chin evident in how his words shake. “I can’t find her, she was with me a minute ago?”
Heeseung’s mouth turns into an evil grin as he continues to ravish you, knowing that you’re officially his now. Snaking his hand up your legs, he dips his hand between your thighs and caresses your swollen clit softly, using his touch to cloud your mind of thoughts with nothing but him and your desire to be his everything.
You gasp at the intrusion, your nub still sensitive from the beating it took not even 30 minutes ago. He has this way of teasing you, yet giving you exactly what you want that makes your heart beat for him. He might not be a God of holy faith, but he is a God nonetheless, and you are ready to worship the ground he walks on.
“Seriously, Heeseung? Did she come by here?” Jaeyun asks once again.
Grunting, he plunges two fingers into your heat and covers your mouth before you can let out a long drone. “Should we let him see you like this?” Heeseung whispers next to your ear, eliciting a panicked shake of the head from you. You loved Jaeyun, more than the stars shine, so seeing him hurt pains you to think about, and seeing you wrapped around his older brother might just kill him.
Snorting, Heeseung mocks you, shaking his head along with you, a fake pout on his lips as he curls his fingers inside of you. “No? Are you sure?”
“Please, Heeseung,” you mumble against his hand, pleading with him, and the double entendre is not lost on his ears. You're begging him to keep going while also pleading to keep your relationship with Jaeyun intact.
Jaeyun twists the door handle, but the lock prevents him from entering, much to your relief. Heeseung picks up the pace of his fingers and adds his thumb, circling your clit rapidly. Your body arches as he continues to pleasure you, Jaeyun’s persistent attempts to enter now a distant memory.
Not to Heeseung though, who finds the boy grating on his last nerve.
“She’s not here, so fuck off,” he bellows out, rolling his eyes before adoringly focusing on you again. His harsh words towards Jaeyun hurt your heart, but the clench of your walls around his fingers tells Heeseung a different story. “Oh? You like it when I’m mean?”
Yes, you do. Of course, you do. It's how he got you to worship his cock like it was the offering of the last supper. You don’t really like it when Jaeyun is on the other side of it but the way Heeseung is fucking his fingers into you clouds that soft side.
Your body starts to spasm, telling him everything he needs to know. He thrusts his fingers deep inside of you, your spongy walls trapping them in place as you reach your climax.
Thanking hell below for his palm, you hold it close to your mouth as you cum around his fingers, the guttural groan vibrating through Heeseung's doll shell. As you ride the waves of ecstasy, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of your release, Heeseung watches you with smug satisfaction. He revels in the power he holds over you, relishing in the way your body responds to his touch, every whimper and moan affirming his control.
Once the tremors of your orgasm subside, Heeseung withdraws his fingers slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. He leans in close, his soft lips against your ear as he murmurs, "You're mine, Y/N. All mine."
_____
Staring at one of the dolls on the hallway shelves, you can't help but feel an instant connection to her. The way her apple cheeks are delicately blushed with a light pink pigment exudes innocence, and her eyes, though glassy and vacant, seem to hold a haunting depth that speaks volumes. It's as if she's a frozen embodiment of lost innocence, a silent witness to the darker forces at play within these walls.
Memories of your own past flood back, a time when you too felt like a mere puppet in the hands of fate, devoid of purpose or direction. You remember the fear and uncertainty that once consumed you, the longing for something more than the emptiness that surrounded you.
But then everything changed when you entered this house, when you met Heeseung and the others. They offered you a glimpse of a world beyond your wildest dreams, a world filled with passion, desire, and danger.
A pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you from your reverie, and a chin gently rests on your shoulder. Speak of the devil. Heeseung's presence is both comforting and unsettling, his touch sending a shiver down your spine as his lips press firmly against the base of your neck. It's a possessive gesture, a silent reminder of the hold he has over you, yet there's a tenderness in the way he pulls you close, as if seeking solace in your presence.
Soonyeol’s arrival is imminent and your two months of work finally coming to an end. The thought of breaking the news to her, of telling her that she's being ousted from her own sanctuary, fills you with a sense of dread. You haven’t even broached the subject with the other dolls, clinging to the hope that you can somehow persuade Soonyeol to go quietly and come up with a feeble excuse about how she craved more than the confinements of this house.
But it’s a pipedream, and deep down, you know it. You're at a loss for what to do, desperately hoping that Heeseung has a better idea, though the thought of the suggestions his mind could conjure fills you with unease.
“Do you like her?” Heeseung's soft voice breaks through your thoughts, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your stomach, easing away the nerves without him even realizing.
One thing about Heeseung these past few weeks; he’s been your saving grace. The pull you felt towards him from the moment you arrived has only grown stronger with each passing day, his presence a source of comfort and stability amid uncertainty. He is rude and harsh with you when you show even a slither of humanity for Soonyeol or the dolls, but he makes up for it by being gentle with you in subtle moments.
He's a study in contradictions - pushing and pulling, hot and cold - and yet, you find yourself drawn to him all the same. It's in those fleeting moments of tenderness, when he brushes a strand of hair from your face or pulls you into a comforting embrace, that you catch glimpses of the man behind the Prince.
Nodding in response to his question, you sink into him, the warmth of his body enveloping you like a protective shield against the uncertainty that lies ahead. “She's pretty,” you admit softly, your gaze drifting towards the doll on the shelf, her delicate features frozen in porcelain perfection.
“Not as pretty as you though,” he smirks, his lips tickling your neck as he leans in closer, brushing against your skin in a teasing caress. “Although, you would look pretty as a doll, too.” His tone is dark but it’s washed away with the wave of banter that flows through it.
Turning your head, you raise a sceptical brow. “Is that the clause in our deal? I get to live here, but you keep me as a Polly Pocket?” you jest, laughter bubbling up to chase away the remaining nerves.
Heeseung laughs heartily, his grip on your hips tightening briefly before he steps back, giving you some space. “You are far too powerful, too perfect, to be trapped in a tattered piece of porcelain.” His words carry a sincerity that melts away any lingering doubts, leaving you feeling cherished and reassured in his presence.
You've tried to keep your guard up around him, knowing all too well that beneath his caring facade lies the darkness of Beelzebub. Yet, in moments like this, it's far too easy to forget the true nature of the man before you. Heeseung's charm and the tenderness he has been showing lately makes it all too easy to overlook the sinister power he wields.
But deep down, you know the truth. With one click of his fingers, he could turn your world upside down, shattering everything you hold dear just as easily as he's granted your heart's desires. It's a precarious balance, walking the tightrope between desire and danger, love and fear.
And yet, despite the looming threat that hangs over your head, you find yourself unable to resist the pull of Heeseung's magnetism, drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to escape the allure of his darkness; like there is something deeper.
The sound of a car pulling up over the gravel driveway snaps you back to reality, instantly tensing your muscles as a surge of apprehension washes over you. Heeseung notices your rigid frame and pulls you back, his touch both comforting and unsettling.
“I’m going to ask her for a private conversation so there are…no hard feelings,” he begins, his tone cryptic and difficult to decipher. “Bring her and wait in the drawing room,” he adds, pointing to the doll behind you with his chin.
You watch him with a mixture of confusion and apprehension as he walks away, his actions leaving you with more questions than answers. His demeanour is inscrutable, giving nothing away as he disappears from view, leaving you to ponder the plan he's clearly concocted in his head.
With a furrowed brow, you turn your attention to the doll he indicated, a sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach. There's a foreboding weight to the situation, a feeling that something ominous is about to unfold.
But for now, all you can do is follow Heeseung's instructions and prepare yourself for the private conversation that awaits. With a deep breath, you grab the pretty doll and head to the drawing room with the hope that this will go smoothly.
_____
As you wait for Soonyeol and Heeseung's arrival, you take a moment to marvel at the grandeur of the drawing room. The fancy furnishings and decor speak of a bygone era, a time when elegance and extravagance reigned supreme.
Sunlight filters through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the room and illuminating the intricate patterns of the Persian rugs that adorn the wooden floors. The walls are covered with priceless works of art, each painting telling a story of its own.
Over the two months you've been working here, you've noticed Soonyeol's love for the 16th-century Renaissance period. Her love for the art and culture of that time is evident in the decor of the entire house. It's as if she's created her own little slice of Renaissance paradise within these walls, a sanctuary where she can escape the troubles of the modern world.
You’re beginning to feel guilty once again, kicking her out of this home just for your own selfish pleasures. Heeseung has convinced you time and time again that this is what you deserve, that he wouldn’t offer this opportunity to someone who wasn’t in dire need of it.
And you need it. You can’t go back. Not now.
The door creaks open slowly, and Heeseung gestures for Soonyeol to enter before him, a fond eye smile gracing his features as he watches her timid walk. She looks visibly shocked to see you standing there, her expression betraying her surprise as she takes in your presence. It's as if Heeseung hadn't prepared her for your involvement in this delicate conversation. You can see the confusion and uncertainty flicker in her eyes, a reflection of the turmoil brewing within her as she tries to make sense of the situation.
“Hee? Darling, why are we here? Why is Y/N here?” Soonyeol's voice carries a note of confusion as she looks between Heeseung and you, her gaze lingering on you with a hint of curiosity.
The way she calls him "darling" strikes a chord with you, a guard instantly going up until you realise that, at this moment, she still thinks he is hers when in reality, you're the one he's been wrapped around for the past two weeks.
In fact, you've been wrapped around all of her dolls for the past two months.
You offer a gentle wave, an attempt to break the awkward silence that hangs heavy in the air. It's clear that Soonyeol is struggling to make sense of the situation, and you can't blame her. For all she knows the dolls should have stayed exactly that - dolls. They should never have moved or let you in on the secret about their beings. But you know them all, each depth of their entity and soul, you understand them, more than her it seems if the conversations you’ve had with Jaeyun and Sunghoon are anything to go by.
“This is just somewhere quiet we can talk, this is a sensitive discussion,” he rubs her arms affectionately, reassuring her just as he has done you over the weeks. Yet, his face graces itself with an ill-omened smirk, looking at you with joy in his eyes.
Soonyeol tilts her head and pouts slightly. “So you know about the boys?” she asks softly, her tone laced with caution as she tries to gauge your reaction. Her love and devotion to the dolls means that she is careful about who can know about them and who doesn’t, and she has yet to find someone she trusts with her secret.
You quickly swallow the saliva in your mouth and nod in agreement, “Yeah, they weren’t very discreet, but they have all been so kind to me. I cherish them so much,” you say earnestly. You mean every word of it, maybe more so the fact you cherish them than all of them being kind, but you need to butter this woman up so you can get her to leave as soon as possible.
Soonyeol's expression softens at your response, a flicker of relief crossing her features as she exhales slowly. It's clear that she's been holding her breath, unsure of how you would react to the revelation. “Was it Jaeyun? It was Jaeyun wasn’t it?”
She begins to laugh, a soft and melodic sound that fills the room, as she shakes her head gently. You can see the wheels turning in her mind as she comes to her own conclusions. Jaeyun's reputation as a chatterbox is well-known throughout the house, so it's no surprise that she would automatically suspect him first. “You know, he’s usually good at keeping promises.”
Heeseung's grip on her shoulders is gentle yet firm, a silent reassurance that he's there for her. He leans in, his voice a low murmur as he interjects. “Speaking of promises,” he whispers to himself, his tone cold yet his touch offering her affection. “Hey, Soon?”
Soonyeol's attention shifts to him, her eyes wide with curiosity as she looks up at him expectantly. “Yeah?” she prompts, her voice tinged with wonder and a hint of apprehension.
“There’s been a change of plans to our deal,” he says, his words cutting through the air with icy precision, even as his hands continue to offer her comfort.
Soonyeol's gaze flickers to you, as if seeking confirmation or understanding from you. You meet her eyes with a blank stare, unsure of what to say or how to react to this unexpected turn of events. “What do you-”
It all happens so quickly.
Heeseung's hands, usually a source of comfort and reassurance to Soonyeol, suddenly transform into instruments of terror as they wrap around her head. One hand clamps down firmly on top, while the other grips her chin from underneath, his fingers digging into her flesh with a chilling intensity.
In one swift, violent motion, he twists her head with a forceful jerk, Soonyeol's neck snaps at a sharp 90-degree angle, the movement so abrupt and forceful that it sends shockwaves rippling through the room. The sound that follows is bone-chilling, a sickening crack that reverberates with such intensity that it feels as though it could be heard from heaven itself. The sound echoes off the walls with a sinister resonance that seems to linger in the air long after the deed is done.
As you watch in horror, a wave of nausea washes over you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. It's a sight that sears itself into your memory, haunting you long after the moment has passed. In that brief, fleeting instant, you catch a glimpse of the true extent of Heeseung's power, a power that is as terrifying as it is awe-inspiring.
Releasing his grip on Soonyeol's lifeless form, Heeseung steps back with a cold detachment that sends a shiver down your spine. The once warm air now feels cold and thick with tension, the weight of what has just transpired hanging heavily in the room like a suffocating blanket.
He looks down at his past lover's body and squats down beside her, stroking her face. Heeseung's touch on Soonyeol's lifeless form is strangely tender considering the brutality of his actions just moments ago. His expression is unreadable, a mask of indifference masking any trace of emotion. "No hard feelings, baby," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "You just aren't her."
You don’t have the time nor the brain capacity to register his remark when he stands up, his movements purposeful as he grasps Soonyeol’s wrist firmly, before dragging her to the table on the left side of the room, heaving her up onto it with no struggle at all, as though he is lifting a butterfly who had injured it’s wing.
Transfixed on the spot, your eyes follow Heeseung's movements as he meticulously arranges Soonyeol's body on the table. He places her hands gently on her stomach and closes her eyes, as if giving her a semblance of peace in death. The room is eerily silent, the only sound being the faint rustle of his movements.
Heeseung then walks around the table with an unsettling calm, his presence both comforting and terrifying. He plants a chaste kiss on your lips, a contrast to the violent act he just committed. "I'll be right back, baby," he murmurs softly, his voice almost soothing.
As he heads towards the door, leaving you alone with Soonyeol's lifeless body, panic and guilt surge through you. You're left with the grim reality of the situation - a situation you played a part in creating. The weight of your actions presses heavily on your conscience, threatening to crush you under its burden.
You can't bear to look at her. The sight of Soonyeol, so still and silent, is too much to handle. Turning away, you feel a deep sense of shame and regret wash over you, mingling with the fear that now grips your heart. The room feels colder, the air you breathe thicker with the weight of your guilt.
In the oppressive silence, you struggle with the knowledge of what you've done, unable to escape the haunting reality of your involvement in this tragedy. You wanted this life, but not like this, not with blood on your hands; Heeseung had promised you that much.
Heeseung returns with the ornate bowl from the altar, slamming the door shut behind him with a resounding thud that makes you jump. He locks it with a deliberate twist of the mechanic, sealing the room and adding to the claustrophobic tension. With a casual grace, he spins the priceless bowl in his hands as though it were a mere football, his nonchalance juxtaposing sharply with the gravity of the situation.
Making his way to the table, he places the bowl just above Soonyeol's head. His movements are quick and precise, a sense of urgency evident in his actions. "Come on, baby, it’s your time to shine," he urges, his voice carrying an impatient edge.
"W-what?" you stammer, barely able to form the words as the reality of what’s happening starts to sink in.
Heeseung doesn’t look at you, instead snapping his fingers and pointing towards you, "Did you bring that pretty doll I asked you to?"
The doll. The beautiful doll that you picked up earlier now takes on a sinister significance. Your mind races, slowly piecing together the grim puzzle. But as you stand frozen, struggling to process, Heeseung elaborates, confirming your worst suspicions. "We’re going to take Soonyeol’s soul from in here," he slaps her still, dead stomach with a forceful smack that makes you flinch, "and we are going to put it in there."
The innocent doll sits idly by, its painted eyes staring blankly ahead, unaware of the dark fate it has been chosen to bear. You feel sick as you realise the full extent of what Heeseung plans to do; you can’t believe this is what you caused.
Your eyes, which once couldn't look at Soonyeol, are now transfixed on her, unable to focus on anything else. You struggle to breathe, each inhale feeling like a weight pressing down on your chest.
Heeseung, growing increasingly irritated by your lack of response, strides over to you. “Fucking hell, Y/N,” he huffs, exasperation evident in his voice. As he gets close, he grabs a chunk of your hair, dragging you over to the lifeless girl and forcing you to lean over the table, your face just inches from Soonyeol’s paling features. “You asked for this,” he snarls, his voice dripping with anger and frustration.
But this isn’t what you wanted. Not at all, and he knows that. “No… this is… you said you wouldn’t kill her,” you whisper, your voice barely audible through the hushed sobs that threaten to break free. You aren’t exactly crying, unable to even process the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your head: fear, anguish, dread, curiosity, admiration.
“If you do your fucking job, then she won’t be dead, will she?” Heeseung releases his grip on your hair, smoothing it out with an almost tender touch before scanning the room for the doll. Once he spots it, he swiftly retrieves the porcelain and places it next to the bowl.
Heeseung's eyes flicker with a cold intensity as he sets everything in place, his movements precise as you watch him in awe. “Here’s what you’re going to do,” he instructs, his voice commanding and brooking no argument. “You’re going to transfer her soul into this doll. If you succeed, she’ll live. Fail, and she’s gone forever, she goes down there with all my legions, Got it?”
He sees you considering the consequences, your eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. With a sigh, he rubs his face in frustration. Deep down, he knows this is a lot for you to process and he should be somewhat more lenient to your shock, but now is not the time.
“Listen, baby, if I know the girl inside of you, then you can do this easily, okay?” His voice is gentler now, as if he is trying to reach a deeper part of you, seeking someone else within your soul.
His words strike a chord within you, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. You nod, determination slowly replacing the paralyzing fear. “I can do this,” you whisper to yourself, though the words are meant for him as well.
“That’s my girl,” he smiles wickedly, seeing that tint of cloud form around your body, “Now repeat after me:
nrober eb tirips eht tel eerced swodahs yb
nrot eb liev eht tel ecarbme sthgiliwt ni
derrulb elballys yreve stneicna fo eugnot eht ni
draeh ron nekops rehtien sdrow eht rettu
htrae eht ssik smaebnoom erehw
htaerb sthgiliwt eht ni shpylg sti ecart
trap llahs luos eht llehs latrom eht morf rof
traeh nmelos a htiw stcafetra eseht rehtag
niht si liev eht dna ecnad swodahs nehw ruoh eht ni”
He says the lines slowly, ensuring that you copy every syllable for perfect diction. You don’t know what language this is but it is identical to the one Jongseong spoke when he called hell. The words feel heavy on your tongue, ancient and powerful, as if they carry the weight of centuries.
As you repeat the incantation, a strange sensation washes over you like you’re suddenly powerful and the words come so easily to your lips you might as well be fluent. The air in the room grows thicker, charged with an otherworldly energy that sends shivers down your spine. You focus on Heeseung’s voice, steady and commanding, guiding you through the spell until you’re saying it along with him, chanting it like these are your vows, to have and to hold.
Heeseung takes Soonyeol's hand and cuts into her palm, dripping her blood into the stone bowl carefully while you repeat the ritual over and over again just as instructed. The bowl begins to glow with a pulsating red light, its intensity increasing with each word. He carefully takes his finger and paints an upside-down cross on the doll's forehead, but it looks more like an X with the smudge of her carmine sweetness.
The shadows in the room seem to come alive, swirling around you in a dance that mirrors the rhythm of the incantation. The temperature drops and your breath comes out in visible puffs of mist. Heeseung’s eyes never leave you, his expression a mix of pride and anticipation. “Fuck, there you are,” he heaves out, his tongue menacingly sticking out of his mouth past his evil smile, as if he’s getting turned on by just seeing you utter the words of his mother tongue.
But so are you, or at least, your body is charged with high energy. It's as if a dormant power within you has been awakened, stirring to life with an insatiable hunger for the raw, untamed energy that tornados around you.
In this moment, you feel more alive than you have ever felt before, every sense heightened to an almost unbearable degree. The air crackles with anticipation, charged with the potent magic that hangs thick in the atmosphere. You can feel the pulse of the earth beneath your feet, the rhythmic beat of its heart synchronising with your own.
As you reach the final verse, the light from the bowl blazes brightly, casting eerie shadows across Soonyeol’s lifeless form. With the last syllable, the energy within the bowl surges outward, a tangible wave of force that knocks the breath out of your lungs. It dances its way into Soonyeol’s being, collecting pieces of her soul that are hidden in the depth of her body before drawing it out, the pure white mist following the red light energy before it guides her to the doll.
You watch in awe and terror as she flows into the doll, its porcelain face glowing with an unearthly light. Soonyeol’s body twitches, a final spasm and gasp of life before it goes completely still. The doll’s eyes now hold a flicker of life within them that was not there before. She is alive.
Once the ritual concludes and Soonyeol's soul is sealed within the doll, the room descends into an eerie darkness, the once vibrant glow of the ritual bowl fading into obscurity. The only illumination comes from the soft hues of the setting sun filtering through the window, casting long shadows that dance across the room.
Heeseung observes you closely, his eyes penetrating the darkness with an intensity that belies the gloom. He senses the subtle shift within you, a transformation he has long anticipated; that greed for your own satisfaction, to take what you want from this world, for you to come home to him.
In his eyes, you are bathed in a vermillion aura, an ethereal glow that marks you as a being of otherworldly power. It's a sight that would be invisible to the naked human eye, but to Heeseung, it's a sign of your rightful place among the divine. In the underworld, such a sight would be revered and worshipped as a symbol of authority and dominion. And by God does he want to get on his knees to bow before you and pledge his unwavering loyalty.
You might not be able to see the glow around you, but you can feel it. It’s exhilarating, the passion and vitality coursing through your bloodstream, electrifying every nerve ending and racing to your heart and your core. There is no logical explanation for the arousal that pulses through you because what you should be feeling is confusion; why did you enjoy that? And why did you know the ritual as if it were engraved in your very being?
Noticing the subtle movement of your thighs as they press together, Heeseung's signature wicked grin returns to his face. "Oh, baby, did that make you needy?" he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement as he leans on the table, his gaze fixed on your squirming form. “Do you want me to fuck you as a reward?”
You can't deny the rising heat within you, the inexplicable lust that courses through your veins. It feels wrong, given the circumstances, yet, here you are, trapped in a moment of perverse desire, all while grappling with the implications of your actions.
Biting down on your lip, you nod, completely entranced by the sight before you. Heeseung exudes a magnetic allure, his rugged appearance heightened by the faint spatters of blood on his hands, the intensity of his gaze drawing you in like a moth to a flame. Your eyes trace the contours of his form, from the slight tilt of his neck to the tantalising glimpse of his collarbone peeking out from beneath his low-cut black t-shirt.
Interpreting your nod as consent, Heeseung seizes Soonyeol by the neck and flings her to the ground with a forceful thud, sending a shiver down your spine that's equal parts fear and exhilaration as you hear a bone crack. Heeseung doesn’t need to care about a lifeless meat suit, not when the real Soonyeol is safe and sound in the doll you hand-picked for her.
Just as the room falls into a heavy silence, punctuated only by the echo of your racing heartbeat, a frantic knocking at the door shatters the calm. Jongseong's desperate pleas slice through the air, his voice laced with worry and fear. "Soonyeol?! Baby, are you in there? I can’t hear you anymore, angel…"
The sound of his desperate voice sends a pang of guilt coursing through you. Your heart clenches at the thought of Jongseong's anguish, his unwavering love for Soonyeol evident in every word he utters, every fibre of his soul. He must have felt something wrong once Heeseung - no, you - stuffed her into the tiny doll.
You broke apart soulmates all for your selfish gain, so you could live happily. But what about him? Jongseong risked everything to be with Soonyeol and you took it from him with the snap of a neck. You cannot imagine having a soulmate being ripped from you that suddenly.
“Y/N? Are you in there? Jongseong, is she in there, is she hurt?” Jaeyun’s voice shadows Jongseong’s sobs as he asks questions that his elder doesn’t know the answer to; his focus is not on you but on his lover who he knows has suffered a terrible fate.
Your gaze shifts to Heeseung, searching for answers in the depths of his dark eyes. "Why can’t he feel her? I thought their souls were connected, not their bodies?" you ask, confusion clouding your thoughts.
Heeseung nods, his movements sleek and calculated as he approaches you. "She was his as long as she was alive, but she sold her soul to me, remember? As soon as she flatlines, she’s mine to own, not anyone else," he explains coldly, his tone devoid of remorse or sympathy.
Noticing your lust for the darker side wavering due to guilt, Heeseung tries to pull you back to him, his hands cradling your face as he forces you to look into his deep eyes. “Don’t listen to them, baby. You have spent your whole life searching for this moment. Don’t let them take it away from you.”
“But-”
"Shhh," Heeseung interjects, pressing a gentle, lover-like kiss to your lips. "Your desires are all that matters now. Think about it - if he truly loved her, he wouldn’t have sinned for you, fucked you like that behind her back." His words are calculated, an attempt to envelop you in the darkness, to paint your world in sinister shades of red and black. He watches your dark aura flicker as you take in his words and silently agree, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
Jongseong’s desperate cries from outside the door tear at your conscience, his pleas a stark contrast to Heeseung’s poisonous whispers. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N. You’re a good girl, remember?” he begs, his voice filled with sorrow and desperation. You hadn’t known they could hear you from here, then again, the walls are thin, hence why each time Jongseong asked to see you, it would be in a faraway room from Jaeyun or Sunghoon. Heeseung was right about one thing, he sinned with you, for you.
Jongseong’s anguish is palpable, his regret weighing heavily on him. He knows he’s betrayed Soonyeol, seeking forbidden pleasure with you. Yet, something within you drew him to sin, almost compelled him to become the man he swore he would never be.
Heeseung’s mocking grin widens, feeding off his brother’s inner turmoil. "You see, baby, everyone has a dark side. Even angels fall," he murmurs, his voice laced with satisfaction. He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe. “And why can he have everything he wants but you can’t?”
He makes a valid point, the feeling in your chest wavering as you think about it. Everyone around you has gotten their desires met, whether in relationships, financial stability, or their dream job. Jongseong gave in and got Soonyeol, Jaeyun wanted to be loved and got a family who cherishes him, and Sunghoon wanted to break free from the cell that kept him captive and a master who was out for blood, and he got solace in these walls.
Why can’t you be selfish like them? Why should you feel guilty for accepting an offer that all of them did so easily?
Watching you fight back, Heeseung's eyes pulse with a vivid red, knowing he needs only one final push to bring you back into his embrace, to unveil the true you. “Do you think I would have brought you here if you weren’t special?” he asks, stepping closer with predatory grace.
Confused, you knit your brows together and shake your head, searching his eyes for answers.
“My sweet, baby. I had to get you home,” he starts, softly running his fingers through your hair. “I’ve spent centuries on this earth, bound to one whore after another, searching high and low for my other half. It was so difficult, sweetheart, but I finally found you.”
You lean into his touch as he gently scratches behind your ear, your mind whirling with his words. What does he mean? You hadn’t met him before that day with Mia. When did you ever ask for his help?
Sensing your confusion, he continues. “You were so lonely, moving to the big city all on your own with no one to keep you safe. I heard you call out for guidance, for salvation once life bruised you. I felt compelled to help you, to bring you a lifetime of happiness.”
Breathing heavily, you shake your head. “I never called out to you, not like the others did.”
“Exactly. I could hear you even when God was meant to pick up your silent prayers, yet they filtered to me. Do you know why?” he asks, stroking your cheek softly as you shake your head. “You’re my girl, my beautiful Alaida. I searched heaven and earth for you the day Lucifer took you from me.”
Beelzebub and Alaida, two lovers torn apart due to Lucifer’s wrath. Alaida had made the mistake of asking for a legion of her own, to be respected on par with the others because she possessed powers that surpassed the Princes. She was beautiful, cunning, a Princess in her own right. But Lucifer, fearing she would surpass him, conspired with Mammon and Leviathan to kill her. It took three men to subdue one woman who hadn't even harnessed all her powers. It was a pathetic attempt to keep their dicks swinging low and the power in their hands.
Despite her death, Beelzebub never stopped searching. He knew the fire of her power could never be extinguished by pretenders to godhood, and that somewhere, she must have found a place to hide. She had often spoken of Earth, envying humans' simple existence, so he knew she would have sought refuge in a human vessel.
For years, Beelzebub answered any calls that might be her in disguise, hoping she would find someone worthy to keep her safe. Soonyeol was one such woman he thought might harbour his lover, and so he answered her call with hope.
But then, you cried out to him, turning his suspicions around. It was impossible to summon him in the Earthrealm without chanting his name, yet you did. Your soul, Alaida’s being, reached out to find him.
You breathe heavily, the weight of his words pressing on you. “I’m not Alaida… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whisper, though your thoughts scream otherwise. You've always felt a pull to Heeseung, but being his lost lover is something you cannot grasp.
“Oh, but baby, you are,” he says slowly, a slight laughter escaping his lips. “Once I heard you and had my suspicions, I convinced Soonyeol to place the ad for a house sitter and sent her to the other side of the world to collect an owed soul. Your friend Mia was an obstacle, but it didn’t take long to make that spineless bitch cower away.” Heeseung continues, planting soft, affectionate kisses on your face. “You are my love. I just had to tie myself to your soul to see it. Looking at you now, Y/N, with that power sparking from your soul, I know my Alaida is deep inside you. We are connected, you and I.”
“Y/N, don’t listen to him! He’s lying!” Jongseong’s raspy voice cuts through, causing your eyes to flicker to the door.
Heeseung won’t stand for the interruption, drawing your attention back with a gentle slap to your face, his cold rings adding to the shock of his actions. His eyes convey what his mouth does not, and suddenly, you do not wish to be guided by Jongseong; you need to be taken by Heeseung.
There’s a storm raging in your chest, an electrifying tempest that tells you Heeseung is right, that Alaida is indeed inside you. This fierce courage you’ve summoned to confront literal demons and defy the infernal powers - it had to be her. The transformation from the person who once quivered at the thought of answering a phone call from an unknown number to standing resolute before Heeseung speaks volumes. His presence ignites a power within you, a fire that feels both foreign and intimately familiar, like a lover’s caress stirring memories of a past life.
“You feel her, don’t you?” Heeseung’s voice is husky, dripping with dark allure, as if he’s reading your innermost thoughts. “I don’t know why she chose you, but you have to let her shine. She saw something in you that she hasn’t seen in over 600 years. You’re special, Y/N.”
Fear and awe mix in your trembling voice as you ask, “…will I lose myself if I do?”
Heeseung’s gaze softens, his eyes burning with a mix of fervour and tenderness. He moves closer, his presence overwhelming and comforting at the same time.
“Y/N, please, I don’t know what’s going on but I need you to listen to Jongseong, okay?” Jaeyun’s voice penetrates the heavy atmosphere, his confused desperation evident as he shouts through the door, desperately trying to break through the barrier both physical and metaphysical.
The air thickens with tension, every heartbeat echoing like a drum in your ears. Heeseung's grip tightens slightly, grounding you in the present. His touch is both an anchor and a reminder of the raw power that lies within you. The pull towards Heeseung, towards your true self as Alaida, feels like a gravitational force, irresistible and consuming.
Outside, Jongseong’s pleas grow more frantic, each word a dagger aimed at your conscience. “Y/N, don’t give in to him. Remember who you are!” His voice cracks with emotion, a stark contrast to Heeseung’s unwavering composure.
Heeseung’s eyes bore into yours, unyielding and confident. “You won’t lose yourself, my love. You’ll become who you were always meant to be.”
As Heeseung’s words weave their spell around you, the power within you stirs, a dormant volcano on the brink of eruption. The weight of the decision presses down, yet there’s a clarity amidst the chaos. The pull of Alaida’s power, the connection shared with Heeseung, feels undeniably right. Heeseung watches in awe as the red light around you blossoms like a tulip in spring, unfurling into its true, ethereal form.
You stand on the precipice of your decision and the room around you seems to hold its breath, waiting. The doll with Soonyeol’s soul watches with unblinking eyes, a silent witness to the battle waging within you. The echoes of Jongseong and Jaeyun’s cries linger, a haunting reminder of the consequences of your actions.
Closing your eyes, you listen to your heart, letting its desire guide you.
And your heart wants Heeseung.
Opening your eyes, you gaze into Heeseung’s, your need to be consumed by this ancient love reflected in your expression. With a deep breath, you nod, surrendering to the inevitable. His eyes light up with a mixture of triumph and adoration as he steps closer, his presence overwhelming and comforting.
“My love, I’ve missed you so much,” he breathes out, his voice trembling with emotion.
Before you can respond, he captures your lips in a fervent kiss, enveloping you in his longing. The sensation of Heeseung’s black heart being yours to cherish sparks an overwhelming joy within you. His tongue entwines with yours, his kiss filled with a desperate passion that speaks of centuries of yearning. His hands tangle in your hair, gripping tightly as he pulls you closer, guiding you to the edge of the table where Soonyeol once lay.
The table’s cold surface presses against your back as Heeseung’s body moulds to yours, his touch igniting a fire that burns brighter with each passing second. His lips trail from your mouth to your jawline, then down your neck, leaving a scorching path in their wake. Every kiss, every touch, feels like a reclamation of a love that was cruelly stolen.
“Y/N, you’re so fucking perfect I just want to rip you apart,” he murmurs into your nape, his hands gripping your waist possessively.
You pull his head back, your eyes locking deeply into his, a storm of emotions swirling within them. “Don’t go easy on me,” you smile, almost innocently but with a daring challenge. He crumbles beneath you, his resolve melting as he hears his lover's whispered words leave your mouth.
“Fuck, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he laughs wickedly before claiming your mouth with his once again. His kiss is fierce and demanding, pulling you to sit at the edge of the table. His hands, strong and unyielding, move with purpose, tearing away your clothes piece by piece. Each shred of fabric falling to the floor is a testament to his strength and desperation to feel your skin against his.
The room fills with the sound of tearing cloth and your heavy breaths, the air charged with anticipation and raw need. Heeseung’s eyes devour you, his gaze dark and intense, as though he’s trying to memorize every inch of your exposed skin. His hands follow his eyes, caressing and gripping, leaving no part of you untouched.
“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice low and possessive, a promise and a declaration all at once. His hands slide up your thighs, spreading them apart as he sinks to his knees before you. “All mine.”
The words send a shiver down your spine, anticipation and desire coursing through you. His hands grip your thighs firmly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he gazes up at you with a hunger that makes your heart race. The sight of him kneeling between your legs, his dark eyes filled with unbridled lust and possessiveness, is enough to make your breath hitch.
Heeseung's mouth hovers just above your skin, his nose ghosting over your most sensitive areas. He takes his time, savouring the moment, his eyes never leaving yours. The tension builds, a delicious agony as you wait for him to touch you.
When his lips finally make contact, it's like an electric jolt, pleasure radiating from the point of contact throughout your entire body. His tongue traces a path along your inner thigh, the sensation both torturous and exhilarating. Heeseung's touch is rough yet tender, a perfect blend of dominance and affection that leaves you breathless.
Biting at your skin, he leaves a trail of teeth marks as a sign of possession. The sensation makes your body squirm, needing him even more than you have over the past two months. With Alaida swirling inside of you, you feel even more desperate for his touch, her soul craving to be claimed by Beelzebub once more.
Finally, his mouth attaches itself where you need it the most, his tongue working on your clit with eagerness. Each flick of his muscle sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, building the heat in your core to a fever pitch. He knows exactly how to drive you wild, his movements deliberate and skilled as he worships you with his mouth.
You arch your back, pressing yourself closer to him, urging him to take you higher. He responds with a growl of approval, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he delves deeper into your pleasure. The intensity of his touch is overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with each passing moment.
His teeth sink down on your clit with force which makes you howl out, mixing with the sobs of the angels who occupy the other side of the door. “Fuck, Heeseung, do it again,” you huff out, grasping at his roots to urge him on.
“You always were a glutton for punishment,” he sneers, biting down on your sensitive flesh. The sting is sharp, sending a jolt through your body that leaves you craving more. It all starts to make sense now, the love you had for the punishment Jongseong gave you on the altar; it wasn’t a newfound kink, it was Alaida - she loves it rough.
And now, so do you.
Heeseung’s mouth is relentless, his tongue and lips working with expert precision as he rises from his knees. He doesn’t break contact for a second, lifting your hips effortlessly to meet his mouth. Your back lies flat on the table, your body arching instinctively towards him, each touch of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through you. His hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place, their strength both reassuring and dominant.
The room is filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and his eager, hungry ministrations. Heeseung’s eyes lock onto yours, their dark intensity burning with desire.
Your hands clutch at the edge of the table, knuckles white from the force of your grip as you lose yourself in the sensation. Every nerve ending is alive with electricity, every inch of your skin hypersensitive to his touch, the warmth of his lips against your most intimate places.
Heeseung’s mouth is everywhere at once, his tongue circling your clit before plunging deep inside you, exploring and tasting with an insatiable hunger. The pressure builds within you, a coil winding tighter and tighter, each flick of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge. His fingers dig into your flesh, marking you as his, a physical reminder of his claim over you.
Moving your hips in a rocking motion, he guides you to ride his face while he works in tandem with his tongue to bring you to the edge. His lips, soft yet demanding, latch onto your swollen clit with a hunger that mirrors your own. He sucks and nibbles with relentless vigour, coaxing waves of pleasure to cascade over you in an unending tide. The combination of his tongue and lips creates a symphony of sensation that brings you to the edge.
“I'm cumming, Heeseung," you gasp, your voice heavy with yearning as your body convulses with the force of your climax. Every fibre of your being ignites with pleasure, sending sparks of ecstasy coursing through your veins.
Heeseung's name tumbles from your lips like a fervent prayer, a plea for release and surrender. With each pulse of pleasure, you feel yourself lost in a whirlwind of sensation.
And then it happens. A bolt of white-hot ecstasy shoots through you, shattering your senses as you spiral into the abyss of euphoria. Your entire body convulses with the force of your release, every muscle tensing and relaxing in perfect harmony with the waves of pleasure crashing over you.
Heeseung doesn't let up, his mouth continuing to work its magic as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. He drinks in every moan and whimper, every twitch and tremble, savouring the taste of your pleasure as if it were the finest delicacy known to man.
Finally, as the last echoes of your cries fade into the ether, you collapse against the table, your body spent and sated. Heeseung's lips linger against your skin, pressing soft kisses against your thighs before letting go of your hips as you bask in the afterglow of your passion.
With a firm hand, he delivers a sharp slap to your clit, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. Your back arches in response, your breath catching in your throat as the sensation radiates from your core to your shoulders. He revels in the power he holds over you, his smirk widening as he watches your body react to him.
His touch is both punishment and reward as he continues, “You’re going to cum again,” he growls, not as a prediction but an order; one you are happy to obey.
As the intensity increases with every slap, you find yourself squirming, aching to get away but longing to stay and take it. Heeseung is skilled at taking you to the edge, and he takes pride in your every sound of agony and gasp.
“T-too much, Heeseung.” Your plea escapes your lips in a desperate whimper, the overwhelming sensation of your overstimulated nub pushing you to the brink of your boundaries. It's a dizzying mix of pleasure and suffering, with each touch sending shockwaves of sensations rushing through your body.
“You can take it,” he says authoritatively, landing another harsh slap to your reddened pussy. “Once you cum, I’ll stop.”
So you relax your body as much as you can given the circumstances, focusing on the rapture of it. Heeseung watches you give in and licks his lips, using the opportunity to unleash his sadistic need to power over you. With rapid hits, he doesn’t give your clit time to breathe as he smacks it over and over again.
Somehow, the faster he’s going, the more enjoyable it is, “Holy shit, Hee!” you scream out. Your hands claw at your thighs as you force them to stay open, enjoying the beating your heat is receiving. Your body bucks against his relentless assault, the sting of each impact resonates deep within you, igniting a primal fire that courses through your veins.
“Such a perfect little princess,” he chides, alternating his hands to quicken the pace.
As his fingers graze down your pussy with each hit, you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion. The rhythm of his assault becomes hypnotic, driving you closer and closer to the brink with every stroke. Your skin tingles with anticipation, every nerve ending alive with the electric charge of desire.
And then, just when you think you can't take anymore, it happens. Your body convulses with the force of your release, pleasure exploding through every fibre of your being as you cry out his name. The intensity of it all is overwhelming, a whirlwind of ecstasy that consumes you whole.
Heeseung's movements falter for a moment, his touch gentling as he guides you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. His fingers trace soothing patterns against your skin, each caress a balm to the raw, pulsating heat between your legs.
Your essence drips down your pussy onto the table, creating a sheen that Heeseung can see his reflection in. His eyes are blown out red, succumbing to the demon within him as he brings you gratification.
As you descend from the soaring heights of bliss, you quiver from exhaustion. Heeseung's lips brush over your flesh, planting sweet kisses on your thighs while murmuring words of appreciation and devotion.
“You did well, baby. So fucking good for me,” he utters into your skin. Heeseung's lips trail a path of reverence up your body. Each kiss feels like a benediction, a testament to the intensity of your connection. As he reaches your tummy, his tongue darts out to taste the salty-sweet sheen of sweat, his movements slow and deliberate.
The tenderness of his touch contrasts sharply with the raw passion that still lingers in the air “You’re mine, all mine,” he whispers against your skin like a mantra, affirming your worth and igniting a spark of warmth.
With each kiss and lick, he worships your body as though you are a sacred temple, his devotion evident in every caress. And as he finally reaches your breasts, his lips envelop one nipple in a gentle suck, giving it attention as it stands proudly for him.
His fingers glide up the curves of your body, tracing delicate trails that elicit a gasp from your lips. A smirk dances across his face as he captures the sound, his nails leaving faint imprints along the way. With a playful tug, he ensnares your bud between his teeth, pulling at it before releasing with a teasing flourish.
Taking hold of your throat, he draws you closer, his gaze ravenous as he savours every contour of your face. “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby, you’ll be crying out for God to save you.” His words make you mewl out, chasing his lips with yours as you seek his unholy kisses, yet he denies you, shaking his head playfully. “Bad girls get kisses, so show me how bad you can be.”
Without breaking his gaze, you nod and shimmy yourself once again to the edge of the table, spreading your legs as wide as they can go, showing your eagerness to please him. The sight before him makes Heeseung’s eyes pulse and his doll shell shiver. You’re a vision no higher power could ever create.
You’re a gift from hell.
Positioning himself at your entrance, he plunges in with unbridled urgency, sending waves of shock and lust through your body. The suddenness of his movement catches you off guard, but the sensation is electrifying, sparking a starving hunger deep within you.
He sets a steady rhythm, thrusting into you with determination to ensure that this is the best fuck of your life, to make sure you know that he is the only one that can give you what you need.
Your walls clench around him in response to his fastening pace, your body instinctively welcoming him as he delves deeper, the tip of his cock hitting your deep spot. Each movement is calculated and deliberate, each thrust a testament to his demonic desire as he sets a punishing flow that leaves you trembling with pleasure.
With a raw intensity, he takes you roughly, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out of your wet heat. A moan escapes your lips as you feel him stuff you to the brink, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. He's holding nothing back, fucking into you the way he knows you like, the way his Alaida likes it.
“You’re so good at taking my cock,” he grunts out through gritted teeth. “Tell them how good it feels to be fucked like this.” By them you know he means the two weeping angels who are still outside of the door, their pleas for you to stop swallowed by your loud moans.
“I love your cock. You fuck me so good, Heeseung. I want you to fuck me forever,” you exclaim, gripping his neck as stability, staring intensely into his beautiful crimson eyes. You steal a kiss, closing your eyes at his soft lips melting into yours. He doesn’t reprimand you for it, instead, he ravishes you with mirrored passion, his hips never faltering.
"You don't need to sell your soul for me to grant that wish, baby," Heeseung growls between heated kisses, his voice rough with desire.
You respond with a desperate moan, arching your back to meet his every thrust. "Don't stop," you plead, your nails digging into his skin as you cling to him, lost in the overwhelming sensations.
Heeseung's growl reverberates through the room as he bucks his hips with increasing urgency, driving deeper into you with each thrust. His voice, rough with desire, commands your attention. "Tell them you belong to me, and I'll give you whatever you need. I'll go as long as you want."
Without hesitation, you nod fervently, your voice hoarse as you cry out his name along with the words he craves to hear. "I belong to you, Heeseung. Only you," you gasp, the declaration punctuated by a sharp intake of breath as pleasure courses through your veins.
His hand tightens around your throat, a rough but controlled grip that sends shivers down your spine. In one swift motion, he pushes you back onto the table roughly, the sudden crash of your skull on the wooden surface causing your head to crack and spin with dizzying intensity. Yet, far from unsettling you, the sensation only serves to heighten the exhilarating rush of desire pumping in your body.
Pushing your head to the side with a firm grip, Heeseung forces you to face the sight of Soonyeol's lifeless form. The vibrant energy that once animated her is now replaced by a haunting stillness, her body lying pale and broken before you.
"Tell her," Heeseung's voice is low, his tone commanding as he demands your acknowledgement of the grim reality before you.
You should be repulsed, the sight of Soonyeol's lifeless body enough to shatter the euphoria of the moment. But instead, there's an unsettling allure, a twisted fascination in knowing that what once belonged to her is now yours and she has no way to steal it back from you. Her dolls, her house, Heeseung - it all belongs to you now, a chilling testament to the power you hold over her legacy.
"I'm Heeseung's, only his," you declare, your voice wavering slightly as conflicting emotions swirl within you. Alaida gleams at the sight, happy that her lover is now only hers, but you still feel sorrow for the girl.
Conflicting emotions swirl within you like a tumultuous storm, battling for dominance as you and Heeseung's ancient love wrestle for control of your consciousness. But deep down, you understand that you are her now, and she is you - merged together in a dance of shared existence. There is no longer a distinction between you versus her; she chose you to carry her soul, binding you together in a singular entity.
In the wake of Alaida's inhumane recklessness, it falls upon you to navigate the delicate balance between humanity and evil. Despite the darkness that threatens to consume you, you cling to the flicker of compassion that still burns within your heart, a beacon of light amidst the shadows. You had to fight against her demons with your light.
Heeseung's grip tightens on your head as he pounds into you with unrelenting force, his touch igniting a fiery ache that resonates through your exhausted body. With each harsh thrust, he draws you closer to the edge, his touch a symphony of sensation that pushes you towards the brink of ecstasy.
Your walls tighten around him, the feeling of your impending release building with each thrust. As you sense yourself slipping over the edge, elation consuming you in its fiery embrace, you try to banish thoughts of his old minder from your thoughts. The sight of her is far from erotic, and you struggle to maintain focus amidst the conflicting desires of Alaida that tug at your consciousness.
"Heeseung, please," you plead, your voice a desperate cry for respite from the haunting images that threaten to intrude upon your pleasure.
Relenting to your plea, Heeseung releases his hold on your head, his hips slowing their frenzied pace as he responds to your need for a change in position. With a deft movement, he tosses your legs over his shoulder, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he locks you in place, your focus now on him as he leans over to kiss you.
The messy buck of Heeseung's hips betrays his impending climax, his jaw slack and eyes screwed shut as he fights to maintain control. The sight of you, glistening and writhing before him, threatens to throw him over the edge, but he grinds his teeth, determined to hang on just long enough for you both to reach the peak together.
With a newfound sense of intensity, he resumes his actions, expertly rubbing your clit. The rawness infuses your body, sparking a fire that becomes hotter with each passing moment.
"Cum for me, baby. Do it," Heeseung orders through the veil of pleasure, his voice husky with want as he drives you to release. In this moment of shared intimacy, there is no place for doubt as you give in to the euphoria, your shouts combining with his as you both succumb to overpowering pleasure.
You clench around him as you cum for the third time tonight. Every muscle in your body tenses as you reach the heights of your pleasure. Heeseung's release joins yours, his seed shooting into you and coating your walls. The sensation of his warmth flooding your depths only serves to intensify your own climax, amplifying the euphoria that courses through your veins.
He kisses you as your heartbeat steadies, his tongue whirling in your mouth as he pumps slowly into you before pausing his hips to let the final flow of his cum sit deep inside you. There’s that shine of red light as you take all of him, all that he offers.
"Y/N..." Jaeyun's voice breaks the intimate moment, a soft plea tinged with desperation as his fist drags down the door. You can almost hear the tears in his eyes and the sorrow in his voice as he realises he has lost you; the doll, defeated, reflects the anguish of being replaced, claimed by another.
Heeseung strokes your face gently, his touch a soothing balm to your conflicted soul. He sees the war in your eyes, the shift between lust and guilt. "He doesn't understand you like I do, baby," he murmurs, his voice a blend of affection and firmness. His words wrap around you, reassuring you of the unique connection you share.
You battle within yourself as you feel Alaida settle inside of you. If she has chosen you, then that means she must have always been here with you, through everything, a silent passenger in your life. But now, thanks to Heeseung, she has made herself known, you’ve let her in to become one with you.
She feels both euphoric and dangerous, her presence a heady mix of power and peril. Your heart aches to leap out of your chest, to be with Jaeyun, to comfort him in his pain, to tell him you're sorry and that it will never happen again. Yet, her yearning to stay with Heeseung, who cradles you with possessive tenderness, is overwhelmingly strong.
You realise you will need to find a balance between you and Alaida if this is how you are to live. You can sense the darkness within her, the same ominous aura that surrounds Heeseung, but you cling to your humanity, determined not to lose yourself completely. If she is to stay, she must let you take the lead.
And right now, you’re in desperate need to fix this.
Heeseung sees your demeanour change and slowly slides out of you with a wet slick, his cock glistening with your juices. Running his fingers through your hair which for some reason opens the floodgates of your eyes, the tears that you couldn’t weep earlier when facing Soonyeol suddenly come crashing down.
“Y/N, why are you crying?” he asks puzzled, shushing you softly, “You wanted this life and now you have it. You should be happy.”
His tone is understanding but you can sense the annoyance underlining his words. He knows you’re still a human but he didn’t think you would be crying for the sake of a girl who you hardly knew. But it wasn’t just her you are crying for, it’s her dolls, your dolls. How are you meant to live happily in this house when all of them but Heeseung will probably detest you?
Even the thought sends a new rush of disdain to your heart, eliciting another sob from your lips. “I didn’t want it like this, the others will hate me and I can’t live like that,” you cry, sucking in sharp breaths to self-soothe yourself and prevent yourself from hyperventilating. Although you’re going through emotional turmoil, it’s nice to know that you’re still you after all.
“If they hate you, I’ll kill them,” Heeseung says, shrugging his shoulders and wiping your tears away, “If any of them even look at you the wrong way I will make sure they suffer.”
You don’t want that, you want nothing but their happiness inside this mansion and with what you’ve done, that might be hard for them to achieve. If Heeseung kills them or tortures them in any way, then it would only hurt you more. The tears flow freely as you think about the dolls and their fate, clinging to Heeseung’s wrists as you squeeze. “Heeseung, please,” you beg with the Prince, glancing up at him in hopes the waterworks are enough to persuade him to leave them unharmed.
He can’t blame them for hating you when you banished their lover to the hollow cell of the porcelain doll.
Rolling his eyes, he huffs out a frustrated growl. “Okay, I hear you, baby. Stop fucking crying.” His voice is curt and authoritative, but as you cower slightly, he softens. He places a tender kiss on your nose, his demeanour shifting from unimpressed to slightly more compassionate. Now that you harbour his first love in your heart, he’s become a bit more lenient with you.
“Just close your eyes and cover your eyes,” he murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Don’t move until I tell you to, okay?”
Obeying, you nod and close your eyes, your hands pressed against the canals of your ears. You cannot hear or see anything but just to make sure, Heeseung places his hands over yours and presses tight. The pressure on your head is sore but you grit and bear it.
He keeps you like this for a while, the very faint sound of his voice vibrating in your skull as the decibels run from his mouth down his doll form. You wonder if this is it? If he has found his Alaida, surely he could just whisk you out of this body and into a doll just as he had done Soonyeol. Your soul is merged with his lovers but that doesn’t mean you’re safe. Maybe he is already sick of you, maybe-
“Open your eyes, Princess,” he utters lowly, releasing his grasp from your head and kissing your forehead.
He can’t get rid of you, because he loves you. Not as Alaida but as Y/N. His actions speak what he refuses to. There’s a new version of Heeseung standing in front of you, the version you witnessed as he fucked you a few weeks ago, the demon in him relenting to make way for his humanity to shine through. Heeseung said you were his and only his and he meant every word of it.
That does beg to question: what he has just done, if nothing to you?
You blink your eyes open and strain to focus your hearing. Silence greets you—no more cries from Jaeyun, no banging on the door from Jongseong, nothing at all. The first emotion you feel is fear, a petrifying dread that he might have taken them away from you. You cannot bear to lose them because then what was all of this for?
"Heeseung," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Where are they? What have you done?"
Heeseung's eyes soften momentarily as he strokes your cheek, but there's a sinister glint in his eyes. "They're fine," he reassures you, his voice low and deceptively soothing. "I haven’t hurt them... yet. I’ve rewound their soul clock to an hour ago. Anything that happened within the past hour is lost on them."
A shiver runs down your spine at his words, a stark reminder of the power he wields and the casual way he manipulates the lives around him. "What if they remember?" you ask, trying to keep the fear out of your voice.
Heeseung's smile is cold, his grip on your cheek tightening slightly. "They won’t, but if they do... well, I have ways of ensuring their silence." His tone is almost playful, but the underlying menace is unmistakable. “But if we want to keep this between us right now, we have some cleaning up to do.”
Swiftly, he moves to grab Soonyeol’s body, carrying her with disconcerting ease to the freestanding wardrobe and stuffing her in there. You sit in stunned silence, watching as he disposes of the lifeless form with a casual efficiency that makes your blood run cold. The contrast between his tenderness towards you and his ruthless treatment of others leaves you reeling.
You can't believe how easily everything has turned in your favour, or how effortlessly Heeseung wields his power. His dominance is both intoxicating and terrifying, and you realise just how deeply you're entangled in his web.
Heeseung closes the wardrobe door with a finality that sends a shiver down your spine. He turns back to you, his expression a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness. "See, Princess? There's nothing we can't handle together," he says, his voice low and smooth. “We will keep her in there for now until I move her car. Can you distract them, baby?”
Picking up your clothes, he hands them to you before getting himself dressed. Time is not on his side before Jongseong starts asking questions.
You look around the space and breathe a sigh of relief. Of course, it’s wrong to want your cake and eat it too, but nothing feels as good as this moment. This house, the dolls you love so deeply—they are all yours to own. And you have one Lord of the Flies to thank.
“Heeseung?” you begin, hopping off the table and walking to hug him tight. “Thank you.”
Shaking his head, he wraps his arms around you and kisses the crown of your head. “I will give you anything you want in this life. Anything for my girl.” Drawing back, you stare up at him, any emotion but gratification and love now vanished—it's amazing how quickly a guilty conscience can be smothered by love.
“Thank you for bringing her to me,” he whispers. You think he is talking to you directly, gratitude flowing in his words as you brought his Princess here. But he is talking to Alaida. The ancient demon knew you would be the perfect person to love Heeseung just as she had, and that is why you were chosen.
As you finish dressing, Heeseung's eyes follow your movements with a predatory intensity. “Distract them well, baby,” he says, his voice softening into a dangerous whisper. “Make sure they don’t suspect a thing. And put this doll back where you found it.”
Heeseung reaches around to grab the doll and kisses it softly, finalising his relationship with the soul within. He hands her to you with care, much more tender than the body she possessed. You like to think that the fondness he had for Soonyeol wasn’t just in the hopes that she was his long-lost lover but because they formed a bond. Perhaps that has more to do with your hope that Beelzebub withholds some humanity inside him in the form of Heeseung.
“Lock the door when you leave,” he asks, planting one final kiss on your forehead before retreating to the entrance to rid the house of Soonyeol’s car before the other dolls see.
You hold Soonyeol carefully, feeling the weight of the soul it contains. The doll's eyes seem to stare back at you, empty yet full of a lingering presence. You exit the room and lock it as instructed, cradling her in your arms as you walk up the hallway. The walk there is tiresome, in all honesty, you would just shove her on the first available spot but that’s just Alaida talking, you want to give her the respect she deserves. It’s the least you could do considering you did this to her.
Placing it gently in its original spot, you take a moment to steady yourself. You straighten her purple-tinted dress and fix her hair fondly, hoping that Soonyeol could at least find some peace inside the beautiful girl. The blood from Soonyeol’s body is still marked on the doll, so you quickly lick your thumb and wipe it away, the red staining your fingers.
Staring down at the blood, you feel compelled to suck the crimson up like a vampire in need of a feast. The metallic scent fills your nostrils, intoxicating and primal. You bring your thumb back to your lips and sip the blood, savouring her taste on your buds; she is sweet, just like her soul. The warmth of the blood sends a shiver of delight through you, a macabre indulgence that leaves you yearning for more.
Just in time, Jongseong appears beside you. Your stomach churns with dread, wondering if he would remember anything at all from the previous hour. Panic flares momentarily in your chest, but you force it down, steeling yourself.
To your relief, Jongseong doesn’t seem upset. Instead, he kisses your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering with a brotherly warmth. He gently wipes away the tears that had crusted on your face from earlier. “You’re going to miss this place, huh?” he asks, oblivious to the truth surrounding him.
Now is the time to put those drama classes you took when you were 14 to good use and fake it until you make it. Nodding pitifully, you pout up at him, your eyes shimmering with feigned sorrow. “I’m going to miss all of you more than the cleaning, I’ll say that,” you giggle, reaching for his hand, interlocking your fingers together.
The action makes Jongseong mirror your pout, his expression softening as he buys every word you say. “Fuck, I think we’ll all miss you, Jaeyun mostly though.” He goes to say more but he stops himself, making you tilt your head in wonder. A flicker of something crosses his face, a hint of a secret he’s holding back.
Brushing it off, he shakes his head and smiles, trying to dispel whatever thoughts had crossed his mind. “Soonyeol isn’t home yet. Do you want a cup of coffee while we wait?”
This is your chance to keep them distracted, to lure them away from this side of the mansion while Heeseung cleans up your mess. With a beaming grin, you shake your head in agreement, “I would love one. Let’s grab the others.”
Pulling him in the direction of the kitchen, he wraps an arm around you and walks alongside you, unknowing of what is to come. You glance back at Soonyeol and suddenly, you see a tear fall from her ceramic eyes. She’s crying because she is watching you steal her life, her love, and she cannot do one thing about it.
A smirk plasters on your face and the red in your eye gleams at her sorrow, happiness filling your chest as you finally come to terms with the fact that your dreams have finally come true.
You’re home.
taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre
#enhypen smut#enha smut#heeseung smut#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#heeseung x reader#tdh#aj writes
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before the void (fresa's version 2.0) II a.putellas
before the void one two II filling the void one two three four five six
you can all say thanks to @girlgenius1111 for filling my head with this idea xx
before the void (fresa's version 2.0) II a.putellas
though you were incredibly outspoken now and for the most part a rather fearless teenager, there was once a time that the thought of public speaking made your stomach churn.
you remember where it all started, when you were just six years old.
you'd been given a task in class to write a short fictional story, and even at that young of an age your work was admirable, to the point your teacher after reading it had kept you back in class.
a very flustered eli had sought you out once she'd been informed of your whereabouts by the front office after being unable to find you during pick up.
rushing toward your classroom panic coursed through her at what might have happened for you to be held after class, memories of things your sisters had done over the years to get in trouble never leaving her mind.
though it was sheer relief and overwhelming pride that replaced it shortly after she'd joined you and been asked to read your story.
your teacher then informed that she'd like you to read it aloud at the upcoming end of year performance for the school at the end of the week, and without so much as a look in your direction your mami agreed.
now you were already set to perform, the kindergarten classes all teaming up for an adorable christmas themed group dance number. and initially you hadn't been worried about that, you were with your friends and everything in rehearsals had been kept very light and fun.
you didn't quite understand what your teacher meant when she explained before eli arrived what she wanted you to do, instead just blushing red in embarrassment with the praise about your story, immediately seeking out comfort in your mami's arms once she arrived.
it wasn't until you returned home and it was explained to you properly that you really understood what had been agreed for you to do.
you'd been told time and time again all afternoon by both your sisters and your mami how proud everyone was, your story passed around and read over and over, but the bomb about you performing eli had waited until dinner to drop.
"like all by herself, her own special moment? fres! that is so cool hermana." alba grinned as you frowned, confused by what she meant. "hey what did we say about pulling ugly faces nena." alexia teased, reaching over to smooth out your eyebrows as you pushed her hand away.
"by myself?" you questioned, frowning again and directing the question toward eli who nodded. "sí hija, you will stand up on the stage in front of everyone and read your story!" eli beamed happily but your frown only deepened.
"lots of people?" you questioned again but it was missed as your family all started to plan who they would invite, alexia already having planned on bringing jenni and now eli readying to extend the invitation to almost your whole family.
"do i have to?" you spoke up again, this time not ignored but rather shrinking a little under the three sets of eyes that turned to you, dropping your own gaze to your plate of food, pushing it around rather than eating it.
"sí. you made a commitment to your teacher fresa, but this will be exciting! like alba said, a very special moment all about you." eli smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face as you nodded.
"you're done?" alexia asked in shock as you pushed your plate away, food barely touched despite your normal seemingly endless appetite, a running joke in the family you had a worm in your stomach which ate all your food.
"no! i trained all day, i get it. you didn't do anything alba you don't even walk to school!" your sisters immediately began to argue over your leftovers as eli tried to play peacemaker before it turned physical.
in any other instance your silence might be noted as odd. you were a boisterous kid by nature, with two outspoken older sisters to compete with for attention you knew how to stand up for yourself and assert yourself despite your age.
but you were caught up in how strange you suddenly felt.
your stomach was twisted up like a knotted rope, your hands a little wet and clammy, chest felt all tight like when you got the flu and couldn't stop coughing, the back of your neck felt very itchy and strange, and suddenly your clothes didn't feel like they fit you properly as you fidgeted and tugged at them in your seat.
"hey!" you were snapped out of it by a hand tugging at your hair, glaring up at alexia who stood beside your chair.
"i'm on dishes which means you're helping me dry hermanita, or else i'll have to drown you in the sink!" your nerves disappeared as suddenly you were hanging upside down over her shoulder, giggles filling the air and your performance now pushed to the back of your mind where it belonged.
but it all surfaced once again the next day at school when instead of returning to class with your friends after dance class you had to stay back to practice reading your story.
"now see all these chairs fresa? on friday night they will be filled with people! your mami reserved a lot of tickets so your whole family must be coming to cheer you on, i am sure they are very very proud of you." your teacher smiled kindly, squatted down beside you as you stood up on stage.
there wasn't more than a hundred chairs, after all you didn't go to a huge school, most of the grades only had about thirty to forty kids. but to you it may as well have been a million chairs, and suddenly the room felt both huge and tiny at the same time.
"no." was all you managed out, that weird feeling from last night returning as you gripped your story in your hands. "no? why would they not be proud!" your teacher laughed, misunderstanding as she stood.
"now when you read fresa we have to make sure we speak loudly and clearly and-" your teacher started as you shook your head furiously. "no!" you repeated, scrunching your story up and dropping it to the ground, running off the stage.
you were held back again after that outburst, assured softly by your teacher that if you were too nervous she wouldn't make you read your story, leaving the decision up to you.
nervous, a new word and a new feeling.
but though it seemed the decision was up to you, and your teacher might have said that, alexia thought otherwise.
it was her turn to pick you up from school that day, already running late having left training to collect you before returning as she always did on wednesdays. so to have to be held up again by coming to meet your teacher she was flustered on arrival.
"fres? vamos nena you're coming to training with me." the older girl appeared in the doorway, nearly knocked off her feet with the force in which you hurtled yourself into her legs, a grunt leaving her mouth as she grabbed the doorframe and steadied herself.
"hey hey hermana what has happened? why are you upset huh?" her demeanor instantly shifted, squatting down and hugging you properly as she caught the eye of your teacher who gave an empathetic smile.
"fresa is a little nervous about reading her story on friday." the older woman explained as alexia stood, a hand on your head as your body sagged into hers with a sigh too deep for someone only six years of age, but that was missed by your sister.
"nervous? by friday she will be fine, we will help her practice at home." alexia assured confidently, your teacher frowning a little. "if she does not want to do it she-" the woman started as alexia cut her off with a wave, moving your hair out of your face.
"she will be fine, gracias. now if that is all?" alexia raised an eyebrow as your teacher stammered for a moment before nodding, taken aback by the abrupt confidence of the ninteen year old in front of her who smiled and thanked her again before guiding you away.
"what was all that about, you are nervous?" alexia asked after you were securely buckled into your seat and she was back behind the drivers wheel, catching your eye for a moment in the rear view mirror as you shrugged, not really knowing what that meant.
"standing up there, i felt weird." you struggled to answer your sister who hummed. "nerves are normal pequeña, they are healthy. it means that you care, that you are excited!" alexia smiled in an attempt to reassure you, something which did nothing to move the frown from your feature.
"i don't want to read my story." you answered firmly, crossing your arms with a huff. "well you will be reading it hermana, you made a commitment. putellas women do not go back on our commitments!" alexia reminded, catching your eye again as she stopped at a red light, almost to the training facility.
"no."
"sí."
"no."
"sí."
"no! i'm not doing it, my teacher said i didn't have to." you raised your voice right as alexia pulled into her parking spot, turning around properly now the car was shut off.
"fresa. mami has invited the family, jenni is coming, alba and i will be there, and everyone is very excited and very proud. do you want to let them down? make them sad that they do not get to hear your story?" alexia questioned raising an eyebrow, not understanding what was even making you nervous, you didn't get nervous.
"no." you mumbled, dropping your gaze and kicking your feet out, that strange feeling having been bugging you ever since rehearsal as you pulled at the collar of your shirt.
the door beside you opened, alexia unbuckling you and grabbing your school bag as you slipped out of the car. "hey, stop that." your sister knelt down, tugging your hands away from where you fidgeted and pulled at your clothes.
"do i really have to read it out in front of everybody?" you asked, hitting alexia with your best puppy dog eyes making her chuckle. "sí, but we will all be there to support you. vale?" your sister smiled in satisfaction as you nodded, taking her hand and following after her into the building.
normally you were beyond excited whenever you accompanied her to training, sprinting off to greet all the staff and warned time and time again by your sister not to run ahead where she couldn't see you.
but today there was none of that, you clung tightly to alexia and barely gave the staff a smile as everyone said their hello's and the pair of you headed for the locker room.
your sister hoped changing you out of your school clothes and into something you could run around in might perk you up but it didn't work, and as each of her teammates tried to greet you again you barely acknowledged anyone.
alexia just chalked it up to you being tired knowing majority of today you'd been in dance rehearsals, a letter of warning having been sent home earlier in the week that the end of year concert meant less actual scholastic work would be done in the days leading up to it, eli needing to sign her permission for you to engage with this.
and though your sister might not have picked up on your strange mood being a little more than that, someone did.
"hola chiqui." jenni knelt down in front of you where you sat by alexia's cubby, knees tucked to your chest. "hi." you mumbled quietly, sending her the tiniest of smiles as your sisters girlfriend frowned at the out of character behaviour.
"hey your sister told me about your story! thats very exciting." jenni tried with a big grin, poking at you as you only shrugged. "are you coming to see?" you asked, shuffling around and pulling uncomfortably at your top, wiping your hands on your knees.
"of course pequeña!" jenni beamed proudly, but that faded seeing the look on your face at her answer. "do you not want me to come?" jenni asked softly, moving to take a seat beside you.
"i don't want anyone to come." you muttered, glaring at the ground, alexia catching jenni's eye and sending a curious look which the tattooed footballer waved off, hanging back with you for a moment as the rest of the girls filed out for the afternoon session.
"vale. it is just you and me now fresa, why are you upset?" jenni tugged you to sit on her knee, tensing up for a second as you didn't hesitate to bury your face in her shoulder, gripping tightly to her jersey.
"hey hey hey, whats wrong fresita? do you want me to get alexia?" jenni asked worriedly feeling your small body start to tremble as she hugged you tightly, knowing that was always the best way to soothe you. she was even more surprised at the way your head shook firmly side to side at the mention of your sister.
"i don't want to do it!" you pulled your head away and looked up at her pleadingly, the older girl wiping the stray tears from the corner of your eye as she melted. "don't want to do what? hey fresa, in and out por favor." jenni reminded soothingly as you started to hyperventilate a little, copying her breathing as your body calmed a little.
"now, using your words pequeña. why are you upset?" jenni asked softly, lifting your chin up as your head flopped to look at the ground. "i don't want to read my story." you spoke clearer this time, though not offering any explanation even when jenni gently prompted you for one.
"everyone says i have to, but i don't want to. i can't jenni!" you started to become upset again as jenni quickly stood, holding you on her hip like when you were younger, making her way slowly out of the change rooms hoping some sun might help your mood.
"vale. how about i talk to your sister about your story, and you go sit with andre to help him like you always do. sí?" jenni placed you back down, nodding to one of the assistant defensive coaches who was waiting for you, knowing you came with alexia every wednesday and always finding little things for you to do to help pass the time.
"hey! not so fast." jenni grabbed the back of your shirt as you went to race off. "i did not get a proper hello." your sisters girlfriend pretended to be offended, softening as finally a smile returned to your face and you launched at her in a hug.
"fresa hugs are the best hugs, gracias." jenni sighed, shaking you for a moment and rewarded with a small giggle for her efforts. "ah! beso?" she tapped her cheek as you tried to run off again, amused at the way your eyes rolled and you quickly kissed her cheek.
"no eye rolling! more and more like alexia every single day." jenni groaned playfully, rolling her own eyes as you gasped. "you just did it!" you accused, pushing her shoulder.
"i am allowed to, vamos baby putellas. go help andre!" jenni pushed you back by the forehead, dodging the way your tiny arm swung at her with a huff. "i am six now jenni, i am not a baby." you warned before marching off to andre.
"yeah jenni, she is six now!" the girl turned around at the familiar voice, standing up and pushing at her girlfriend who grinned. "you are a bad influence on her amor, so much atttiude in such a small body." jenni tutted as the two of them wandered back to the team.
"don't look at me, that attitude is pure alba!" alexia laughed in defense as jenni rolled her eyes and hummed. "hey-" the tattooed forward stopped for a moment. "about the story, she really does not want to do it ale." jenni warned quietly, surprised at the way your sister seemed to brush it off.
"sí, she is a little nervous. thats normal! healthy, we will help her be ready." alexia shrugged as jenni shook her off. "no, alexia. she was really upset, i have not seen-" jenni was cut off by the blow of the whistle, alexia jogging off toward the rest of the team before her girlfriend followed after her with a sigh.
by the end of training your mood was back to normal, the strange feeling from earlier going away again as you were kept too busy to even give your story a thought.
but after dinner that night, everything changed.
you'd finished getting ready for bed changed into warm pyjamas from the dryer with your bear in hand, knowing you had another half hour until you really had to go to bed and intending to con one of your sisters into letting you control the tv until then.
but you were stumped to see that on your return to the living room it was changed dramatically.
the entire room had been rearranged, the dining room chairs moved to be stacked in rows and one right at the head of them, the couches pushed to the side.
"alexia are you really sure this is-" alba asked again with a concerned frown, jenni having messaged her about your odd behaviour since it didn't seem your eldest sister was taking it seriously.
"hermana!" alexia cheered seeing you, hurrying over as alba sighed but plastered a smile on her face. "why are the chairs here?" you asked with a frown, alexia handing you your story as suddenly the strange feeling returned.
"well since you are nervous pequeña, we are going to practice so you are not nervous!" alexia answered, grabbing under your arms and carrying you over to the chair at the front and standing you up on it. "red." you frowned as your sister took her from your grip.
"you can't have it on stage with you nena, this is supposed to be like the real thing." alexia explained as you deflated a little but nodded.
"pretend we are at your concert. i will be sat here, alba there, and jenni and mami and all the family will be sat watching you, and all your friends families too!" alexia smiled in a way that was supposed to be reassuring but it just made you feel worse.
"but hermana if-" alba started, noticing right away that you'd suddenly gone a shade more pale and seemed to be fidgeting in a way that wasn't normal, tugging at your clothes and rubbing your free hand against your leg.
"alba." alexia cut her off with a warning glare, the two having been bickering back and forth since the topic was raised, disagreeing on how to go about dealing with it, eli out for dinner with some work friends.
"now. remember what your teacher said fres, speak loud and clear so everyone can hear! because there will be lots of people all the way to the back of the hall and we want all of them to hear you." alexia waved for you to start reading as she and alba settled into their chairs, several of your toys filling the other ones which was alba's doing in her own attempt to try and calm you.
you nodded and swallowed hard, holding up your story and all but burying your face in it, mumbling along. "no no no, not like that." alexia shook her head and stood as alba sighed and dragged a hand down her face.
"when you read for people you have to look at them, so they know you are speaking to them." alexia took your story and stood beside you.
"you read a sentence, remember it, and then look up and say it. then you look at the page again, read it, remember it, look up and say it. vale?" alexia explained as you nodded slowly and she handed you your story back.
"you are overwhelming her, she's six alexia!" alba hissed quietly, dismissed with a wave as alexia sat back down. "go fresa. nice and loud!" your sister encouraged, your knees shaking slightly as your face felt hot and you shifted.
just like before the strange feeling returned as you felt your sisters eyes pierce into you, imagining what it would be like with hundreds more as you stammered through the first few words of your story.
"eyes up fresa! remember, read and look up. read and look up!" alexia coached, not meaning to come off as strict as she did but not realising she was only making you feel worse.
"speak clearly fresa!"
"remember, you want everyone to hear."
"no hermana, look up more!"
"we will all be here watching you, supporting you."
"you don't want anyone to be disappointed, no?"
her words echoed around your head until they were all you could hear and the strange feelings intensified. your stomach was twisted and churning, hands wet and clammy, chest all tight like you couldn't breathe properly, back of your neck itchy, and your clothes didn't feel like they fit you properly.
then, then came the nausea, followed by the contents of your stomach all over the floor.
"fresa!" alexia hadn't meant to shout, she really hadn't. but she was shocked at what had just happened and thinking she was mad at you you took off, dropping your story and sprinting away.
"nice alexia." alba snapped, standing up and shoving at the older girls shoulders before sprinting off after you.
with another bath and a new set of pyjamas, both of your sisters put aside their argument to promise you weren't in any trouble and tuck you into bed, alexia quite sure you'd only end up in hers later on anyway.
but the bickering resumed the moment you were asleep and your door clicked shut, eli returning home and frowning at the sound of the hushed argument, the vomit cleaned up and living room put back to how it normally was.
"hey!" your mami's voice was firm and commanding as she placed her bag down, both of your sisters falling silent and looking over guiltily, eli raising her eyebrow silently asking for an explanation.
"fresa cannot read her story."
"fresa is a little nervous."
both girls glared at one another at the conflicting sentences, at eli's request taking turns to give their sides of the story about tonight.
"she was sick?" eli frowned, sat at the table now with a concerned frown. "sí. it is more than nerves mami, she is terrified!" alba stuck up for you as alexia made a dismissive noise.
"she probably ate her dinner too fast, you know how she gets. she will be fine mami! she just needs to practice." alexia spoke, shooting her younger sister a dirty look who rolled her eyes, both girls awaiting eli's verdict.
"vale, i will speak with your hermanita tomorrow."
but tomorrow, things got even worse.
your nerves now taking over entirely you'd refused to even participate in the dance you'd spent weeks learning, faking a stomach ache and being sent to the nurses office, but your teacher saw right through you.
"hola mi hija." you looked up from the bed you were sat on in the nurses office, a sick bag and a bottle of water untouched beside you, your feet hitting the floor and your body ramming into eli's legs as she sighed.
she'd already spoken with your teacher who'd called, raising concerns for your odd behavior and just like she had with alexia promising there was no pressure for you to read your story, or participate in the dance if that was too much.
eli promised to speak with you tonight about everything, and that was still her intention but she knew you'd be more comfortable having the conversation not at school.
so pulled out early you headed home, uncharacteristically silent in the back seat the entire way there, your mami not pushing you to say more than the few words it seemed you were able to.
"hija. your teacher told me you do not want to read your story, can you tell me why?" eli asked softly, having made you a snack and allowed you some time to settle down before she raised the topic again, not missing the way you immediately began to fidget.
but all she got was a shrug, and not for any malicious reason, you really weren't sure why you were feeling this way about reading the story, and so you weren't able to actually verbalize it.
"vale. well, if you do not want to fresa, you do not have to." eli promised as you looked up with wide eyes. "really?" you questioned as your mami nodded. "no. it would be good if you could try, but if you cannot, then that is okay too." eli assured as you frowned and nodded, the older woman dropping the topic for now and leaving you in front of the tv.
you seemed back to your normal self by the evening, racing around playing a game entertaining yourself as alba was locked away studying for something and alexia was yet to return home from training, dinner almost ready.
"fresa!" alexia groaned as she'd barely stepped foot inside before you were zooming through her legs, almost taking her down to the ground as alba snickered in amusement helping eli to set the table.
"it is a new game she made up, be nice." eli warned, alexia rolling her eyes as alba stood and you raced through her legs too, counting along with the points system nobody but you understood.
having showered at training your eldest sister dumped her things in her room, returning to the table right as dinner was served, all four of you chattering away as usual and you again seemed back to your normal self.
but again, everything changed after dinner.
once more alexia had told you to practice, alba had voiced her argument and eli had silenced both of them. handing you your story and curious to see if you displayed the same behaviors alba had reported the night before and alexia had dismissed.
"remember fresa. read, look up, speak. loud and clear, vale?" alexia coached, ignoring the way alba's eyes bore daggers into the side of her head, the room at least not set up like it was last night but still you were stood on a chair in front of the three of them.
just like last night and every time before, the strange feelings burst forth from where they'd been laid in hiding, biding their time and waiting for the right time to resurface.
your stomach twisted and churning, hands wet and clammy, chest all tight like you couldn't breathe properly, back of your neck itchy, and clothes didn't feel like they fit you properly, your spare hand tugging and pulling as you shifted on your feet.
"vamos fresa." alexia clicked, eli sat between both her daughters really the only barrier to alba knocking some sense into her older sister, grateful for eli nudging her eldest and subtly shaking her head.
"i can't." you shook your head after opening and closing your mouth a few times, trying to read but the words wouldn't come out, stuck in the back of your throat.
"you can." alexia argued, waving for you to. "no." you shook your head, knees trembling as alba frowned. "go fresa. read, you are fine!" alexia spoke a little more sternly, much like her coaches would to her on the pitch, misreading the situation all together.
"alexia." eli warned quietly, but it fell on deaf ears. "mami said i didn't have to, miss luisa said i didn't have to. i'm not reading it!" your own tone of voice raised, nerves bubbling over into frustration as to why your sister wouldn't listen to you.
"you are being silly fresa. read it!" alexia ordered, her own patience running thin. "no!" you yelled now, spare hand balling into a fist. "alexia-" eli began again but your sister was already up to her feet.
"you made a commitment, putellas women do not give up on commitments. you will read your story here, and you will read your story tomorrow. you are fine fresa, so read it, now!" alexia warned, and then it all bubbled over and you snapped.
"i hate you!" you screamed, ripping up the piece of paper with your story on it in half, jumping down from the chair and sprinting off to your room, throwing your door closed as hard as you should as it slammed shut.
a string of angry spanish curses filled the room as alba lunged at alexia, the two bickering quickly and aggresively, shoving one another around before eli yelled for them to stop and pushed her way in the middle.
"you are so selfish and stupid and stubborn and-" alba started, becoming too frustrated to even get her words out. "as much as you think she is alexia she is not just like you. she is normal! she gets nervous! but that, that is more than nervous-" alba growled, yelling now over eli's head who was still attempting to diffuse things.
"she is terrified and you just push and you push and you push, and you made it worse! imbécil testarudo." alba spat, wrenching her arm away and storming off after you, alexia scoffing at the dramatics with a roll of her eyes.
"sit." eli ordered sternly, the taller brunette giving her a look which quickly withered away at the one she got in return, sitting down in defeat as alba knocked at your door.
"hola hermanita, it is just me. can i come in?" alba called out softly, taking your silence as a yes as she pushed open the door. but she frowned closing it again and unable to see you anywhere, calling out your name.
finally, a noise in your wardrobe which was firmly shut.
"are you going to come out hermana?" alba asked gently, taking a seat by the wardrobe door, hearing a faint no echo out from inside. "vale, we will just talk like this then." your sister promised, nothing sounding in return.
"or i can talk, and you just knock on the door. two for yes, three for no." two knocks sounded making alba smile and tuck her knees up to her chest.
"do you want to read your story tomorrow pequeña?" three knocks sounded.
"it makes you feel...bad to read your story in front of people?" two knocks.
"you think you will let everyone down, make them sad, if you do not read your story?" two knocks again.
"but you really don't want to read it?" three knocks one more time.
"okay, then you will not have to read it hermanita. i promise i will speak to mami, and to alexia." a slight creak sounded, the door opening just a sliver.
"can you come out? i need a fresa hug." alba cooed encouragingly, knocking on the door but not making a move to open it herself not wanting to push you.
"i can't."
"why not?"
"i'm stuck."
"stuck? is the door jammed?" alba frowned, reaching over and pushing it a little as it easily slid, a small hand sneaking out and slapping hers away from inside.
"promise me...no laughing!" you warned, voice muffled as alba frowned and agreed. but as the door opened properly and you emerged, a hand had to be slapped over her mouth to stop the sixteeen year old collapsing into laughter.
"oh fresita..." alba trailed off clearly amused as you sat in your wardrobe, head stuffed into one of your papi's old motorcycle helmets, arms crossed against your chest.
"ven aquí idiota." alba chuckled, offering you her hand which you took and allowed her to pull you from the wardrobe, now stood in front of her. "where did you even find this nena?" alba asked with a smile, fiddling with the clasp which was indeed stuck.
"garage. helps me think!" you huffed, stomping your foot impatiently as finally with a few little wiggles your sister pulled the clasp free, carefully tugging the helmet off and placing it down on your floor.
"there, much better." alba smiled, opening her arms as you collapsed into them, body sagging into hers and a very deep sigh exhaled into her shoulder as she rubbed your back.
"promise i don't have to read my story?" you mumbled, arms locked around her neck. "pinky promise." your sister poked you gently, holding up her hand as you locked your pinky with hers, each kissing the others hand.
you both sat in silence for a little while, your sister playing with your hair and rubbing your back feeling the tension in your body slowly dissapate.
"hey fres?" finally she spoke, your head pulled away as now you both sat cross legged on your floor facing each other. "when you have to read, does your stomach feel a little funny?" you nodded at that.
"your face gets a little hot?" nodding again.
"your clothes don't feel right? a little itchy? tight?" nodding again.
"and my hands get all wet!" you piped up, alba now nodding in understanding. "guess what?" she questioned as you looked on cluelessly. "i feel like that too, when i have to take a test at school." your sister revealed honestly, pulling a face and successfully getting a smile from you.
"really?"
"really."
"you know what helps me?" alba asked as you shook your head. "hand out." your sister motioned as you frowned but did as she asked, eyes widening at the small woven bracelet she slipped onto your wrist, tying it up so it sat loosely but not enough to move much up and down your arm.
"whenever i feel like that, i play with one of my bracelets, and it helps me feel better!" your sister promised, holding out her own hand where several other bracelets sat.
"so you don't have to read your story hermanita, i promise. but if you ever feel like that, you can always talk to me about it, or you can play with my bracelet and think of something happy. take your mind off whatever is making you feel icky, like reading the story." again you nodded, a proper smile on your face now as you launched at the older girl in a hug.
catching eli's eye who was hovering in the doorway alba gave a small thumbs up, the older woman nodding in understanding and leaving the two of you to it.
a knock sounded shortly after, though as alba looked up this time her eyes narrowed as alexia shifted from foot to foot in the doorway. "fresa?" she called out hopefully, your head peering around to look at her.
"can we talk please?" alexia asked softly, a hopeful look in her eyes as you stood and began to make your way over. "no." you answered firmly, pushing at her legs until she was out of the doorway, slamming it shut again as your eldest sisters eyes widened in shock.
"alexia." her name sounded as her hand was on the doorknob, ready to push it open and try again, looking over her shoulder as eli sent her a look.
"try again tomorrow hija, give her a little space."
but as friday rolled around, your attitude toward her only worsened.
of a morning alexia was always the one who helped you get ready for school. she would help you pack your bag, check you had everything, do your hair for you, help you pick what to wear and sit with you at breakfast normally coloring something in together.
but this morning, you wanted nothing to do with her.
eli packed your bag, alba did your hair and helped you get ready, you sat with alba at breakfast and anytime alexia tried to speak to you all she got was a frown and your body turned the other way, each action like a punch to the gut.
she watched on helplessly as you hugged and kissed alba goodbye, ignoring her once again before you raced out the door, eli sending her eldest a sympathetic look before following after you to the car.
alba also opted for the silent treatment with alexia before she left for school herself, not having been given any sort of apology from her sister she wasn't going to be the one to extend the olive branch given she was right.
that day at school for you was the same as the last, you refused to participate in rehearsals, sitting out to the side by yourself and watching your friends all giggle and run around.
a note in your pocket from your mami handed to your teacher earlier that morning explaining you wouldn't be able to read, your teacher promising she understood and giving you a few small tasks to try and keep you engaged throughout the day.
when you returned home that afternoon it took a little convincing but you agreed to still attend the concert, eli gently explaining it wasn't kind not to go and watch your friends which you'd agreed with, grateful that only your sisters, jenni and mami were coming, the rest of your family coming over for a barbecue on sunday instead after alexias game.
alba taking you to go and wish your friends good luck alexia purposefully kept the seat between her and jenni free, hopeful that you might choose to sit there even if it was just to be closer to jenni and not her.
but when you returned you blanked her entirely, opting to sit wedged in the same seat as alba, jenni rubbing her girlfriends back in comfort as the lights dimmed and she deflated, at a loss for how to make things up to you for once.
for alexia this was uncharted territory. she had always been your favourite, she was always the one you sought out for comfort, she was who you'd sit with anytime you could, she was who you went to when you had a problem.
but now, just trying her best in her own to help you overcome something she didn't want plaguing you for years to come, she'd gone about everything all wrong and the barcelona midfielder was miserable at the results.
after the concert things only got worse. it was late, you were tired, and you were even more clingy than normal.
normally when in these overstimulated moods you'd find yourself spending the night in alexia's bed, curled up with your sister who would trace shapes on your back until you fell asleep and braid your hair so that it would be all wavy in the morning when she took it out.
and that was the comfort you sought out, but with alba, and not with alexia.
the entire weekend in fact you avoided her like she had a disease, out of the house most of saturday at a birthday party removed any chance of alexia trying to fix things, and then not even going to her game on sunday given you'd spent the night at your abuela and abuelo's.
finally, sunday afternoon rolled around and coming off of a 7-0 win alexia was in an invigorated mood to make things better with you, your entire family gathering together meaning you were in the best mood you'd been in all week.
so much so, alba was surprised when you'd tugged at her pants, pulling her out of conversation with one of your cousins.
"i want to read my story." you announced when it was just the two of you alone in your room, alba all but dragged there the moment she'd excused herself. "really?" your sister asked in surprise, taking a seat beside you on your bed.
"sí, i have your magic bracelet to help me now. but will you help me?" you asked hopefully, a small smile coming across the older girls face as you fidgeted with her bracelet on your wrist. "of course pequeña. what do you need me to do?" alba asked gently as you jumped down from your bed.
"fix this." you held up the two halves of paper containing your story with a frown, alba hesitating for a moment as things ticked over in her head. "mm i am not very good at fixing stories fresa. but you know who is?" you shook your head, lowering the two halves with a sigh.
"alexia." alba promised, not missing the conflicted look which crossed your features. "ven aquí." the girl lifted you back up and onto your bed. "i know ale upset you. but she is very very sorry, and i know she misses you." alba continued softly as you shook your head.
"no she doesn't, she's mad at me." you sighed again, pulling at the bracelet and refusing to look up. "mad at you? why would she be mad at you hermana?" alba asked confused as to where this was coming from.
"i didn't do my commitment." you mumbled as alba exhaled, suddenly now putting the pieces together now of why you'd been avoiding your eldest sister like the plague.
"hey, fresa look at me." you did as she asked. "alexia would never ever be mad at you for that. she loves you very very much, maybe even more than me." alba added on teasingly, poking your side as you gave a little giggle and pushed away her hand.
"really?"
"prometo. so why don't you go and ask her to fix your story, and then both of us can stand with you while you read it to everyone. would that help?" alba asked gently as you nodded.
"vamos!" alba motioned to the door, chuckling as you took off right away, zooming through and around the family members littering the house, avoiding every cheek pinch and hair ruffle you could.
alexia was sat with a few of your tio's discussing the match, jenni's own parents in town meant she wasn't there to indulge her pity party so she'd opted for the other thing which always made her feel better, talking about football.
but all of that came to a screaming halt as suddenly you appeared, tapping her knee and holding up the two halves of paper. "can you fix this for me please?" you asked hopefully, alexia catching alba's eye across the yard who sent her a nod.
"of course." alexia promised taking the paper off of you, standing and cautiously offering you her hand, almost melting in relief when finally you accepted, pulling her into the house.
a few pieces of tape and a ruler later and the story was whole enough for you to read again, alba quickly texting alexia the contents of your conversation so she knew the real reason you'd seemed so upset with her.
sat up on the desk in your sisters room as she'd worked you thanked her as she handed you the now mended story, alexia taking a seat in the chair by your feet.
"fresa." she'd called for your attention as your eyes scanned over your story, mumbling under your breath. "i am very proud of you." the older girl started softly as you frowned, confused. "why?"
"well, because even though it took me a little longer to see it, you expressed your feelings and your needs and you stood up for what was best for you." alexia started, absentmindedly drumming her fingers against your shoes.
"nena i am very very sorry that i did not listen to you. sometimes i think that i am always right, and that i know what is best for everyone, but you knew what was best for you. you told us that, and that makes me very very proud of you fresa." your sister promised, grunting as suddenly you swung yourself off the desk and into her lap, arms wrapping around her neck.
"i missed your hugs, fresa hugs are the best hugs." your sister mumbled affectionately, kissing the top of your head and squeezing you tightly.
"sorry i said i hate you. i promise i don't hate you, and i am proud of you!" alexia couldn't help but grin as your small hands fell to her cheeks and you frowned up at her as seriously as you could muster.
"gracias pequeña. i love you very very much!" alexia promised, her own hands falling to your cheeks and smooshing them together as you whined and pushed them away.
"more than alba?" you asked, a cheeky grin on your face as alexia shook her head with an amusement smile. "maybe. but don't you tell her that diablillo!" alexia warned, pinching your cheeks again and helping you down.
"its okay...she already knows!"
#woso community#woso#woso x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso blurbs#🍓☀️
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Hello Mr.Gaiman
I need some... advice, i think, but i don't really know what i need you to tell me, is just... Ok, look, i'm writting something and i think is really good, it has to be a short story cause the deadline is in like a week or something and i haven't started yet, cause i did started, but i've been delating every try cause i think is awful. I already have like the plot and everything planed, but everytime i try to write the actual story it just is not what i want, like, the story and the idea is really good, but when i try to execute that idea it is just not... good, idk if you understand...
Thank you for your time, sorry for botherin and sorry if my english has any mistake.
Just start it. And get to the end. When it's done, start to revise it. But not until then. Otherwise nothing will exist to fix.
You can always make something better. You cannot improve a blank page.
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LIGHTS, CAMERAS, ACTION.
🎬 includes: aged up! midoriya izuku, bakugō katsuki, todoroki shōtō, & kaminark denki; + kirishima eijirō cameo!
🎬 warnings: 18+ content, fem! reader, pornstar & quirkless au, oral [m&f giving/receiving], vibrators, lots of fucking, threesome, orgasm torture but gentle, lingerie, shower sex, slight name calling (“slut”). not proofread so some parts may sound as though they were written by a degenerate
🎬 notes: here is THEE fabled pornstar au. hero names -> pornstar names. i had so much fun writing this — it may be the new crowning jewel of my blog.. after hours of writing, i hope you all enjoy! <3
DEKU.
☆ known as UA studios’ sweetheart, he has a wild side that viewers go crazy for! his most successful videos involve pussy eating, anal sex, food play, and ads for sex toys/clothing.
“alright,” the director, iida, says to you, “have you reviewed the script? do you understand our requirements?” a friendly makeup artist dusts a hint of blush across your cheeks, and smiles at her work. the makeup look is balanced between noticeable and natural — meant to compliment the lingerie adorning your body beneath your short dress.
“yes, i’ve reviewed it. no fake moans, of course.”
“that’s right. everything must be completely natural. we’re trying to sell pleasure, good sex, and lingerie.”
iida smiles at you, and looks around at the staff waiting for his order. “everyone, please get into position! deku, y/n, remember, you can say cut at any time.”
the cameramen assemble behind their equipment, and iida sits in his chair, script packet in hand. you and deku walk towards the bedroom setup, standing behind the door, preparing to walk on set. “action!”
deku pulls you into his arms, kissing you hard while one of his hands yanks at the door handle. he rams into it with his shoulder, and the both of you are suddenly beneath the warm set lights looking down into the cozy bedroom. you moan, tipping your head back slightly to suck on one of his soft lips, earning a desperate groan from him. when he pushes his hips against yours, your breath catches in your throat when his clothed cock presses against your thinly covered pelvis. part of you didn’t expect him to be this aroused, considering the amount of women he’s been with. you pull back gently, lines from the script flashing in your mind. “i need you so badly, deku.”
deku knows it’s a script, but goddamn do you sound convincing — like you truly want him more than anything. he kisses at your neck, arms wrapped around you, and tugs you with him down onto the bed. now you’re on top of him, in your see-through dress, grinding down on his pelvis and cock desperately. groaning, he flips the two of you over and cages you beneath him with his arms and chest. according to the script, one of his hands should be wandering under your dress and caressing whatever he can touch, but he stares at you instead, enamored with how beautiful you look. he kisses you one last time, and slips off your dress, his eyes going wide at the lacy lingerie adorning your body.
squirming under his gaze, you let your legs fall open, and he leans forward to kiss down your body, starting at your collarbone. he yanks at your bra straps, struggling to get the damn thing off you.
“sit up for me, baby.” deku murmurs, undoing the clasps on your back swiftly and laying you back down on the duvet once the bra’s off. going off script again, he squeezes your tits and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “oh, you’re so fucking beautiful.” your face warms and your back arches off the bed, pressing your tits into his face. his large, scarred hands grasp your tits eagerly, and more wetness pools in the underwear you’re supposed to be selling.
your hips jerk and twist beneath and against his own, and he moans loudly, desperately. deku finally pulls away from your tits, and focuses his attention on your clothed pussy. you’ve completely wet the lacy underwear through and through, causing it to become skin tight against your pussy; your wet folds are now extra defined.
“what a pretty pussy,” deku gasps, slipping his fingers into the crotch part of the underwear and yanking it to the side, exposing your fluttering cunt. with the script and its lines completely abandoned, you and deku make your own ad — “please, deku, wanna cum for you.”
breathlessly, he grabs your hips and tugs your pussy into his face, your clit bumping against his nose. now propped up against the pillows and fully naked, you watch the way he jerks his hips into the bed through lidded eyes. the sight of his desperation adds to your arousal, and you let out a whimper when he easily slips two fingers into you. deku begins a fast, rough pace with his fingers, pumping them in and out of you mercilessly. he takes your clit between his lips and sucks, switching between sucking and licking. you’re blissed out, eyes rolled back and body trembling — all you can hear are deku’s moans and the squelches your pussy makes from his fingers.
“oh, deku,” the thought that your throat will be sore from how loud you are tomorrow flashes through your mind briefly, “please don’t stop!”
he grips you tighter, pushes his face into your pussy more, trying to get impossibly closer to you. his hips quicken against the bed, his pants slipping off him. wait, when had he undone them?
you muffle a scream by pressing the back of your hand to your mouth when he starts to curl his fingers inside you, his large fingers hitting the right spots deep inside you and stretching you out. “pleasepleaseplease,” you don’t even know what you’re begging for, you’re so far gone. “deku, don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”
suddenly, your hips buck into his face and there are hot sparks inside of your body, all over you. something in your pussy snaps, and you squirt all over him helplessly. the duvet is splashed, and you even get some on your belly and pelvis. deku takes most of your cum right in the face, his eyes closed and his mouth wide open.
shaking, you use your fingers to collect some of the liquid on your pelvis, and then press them into his open mouth. he moans, sucking on your fingers, his own body shaking. you lean forward slightly, eyes widening when you see a very noticeable wet spot on the front of his boxers, and some dampness on the duvet beneath him. his face is completely wet with your slick and squirt, and you cup his cheeks in your hands and kiss him, moaning when you taste yourself.
you both sit like that in silence, panting and coming down from your highs. until you both turn to iida and the cameramen, who look very surprised. he clears his throat. “we said cut a while ago.”
DYNAMIGHT.
☆ notorious for his rough demeanor and handling of co-stars, UA studios’ dynamight is popular internationally. his close friendship with fellow star red riot is revered; very occasionally, they collaborate together.
“okay, is everyone situated?” the director, iida asks, taking a step back to look over the setup. a stage crew member adds a pillow behind red riot, and smooths out the crimson couch cushion.
“hurry up and start fuckin’ filming.” dynamight holds the base of his cock tightly, trying to not lose his erection. you’re positioned between him and red riot, tits out, legs spread and sitting lazily. red riot sits behind you, a ring around the base of his cock, squeezing hard enough for a bit of precum to sit atop the head of his cock.
“bakugo!” he hisses, “no need to be so rude to them. i’m sorry for him, everyone.” typically, the rule is to only call co-stars by their porn names, to protect each other’s identities, but the three of you are friends outside of the industry, so none of you follow that rule with each other.
“thank you, kirishima.” iida glances at bakugo pointedly, then turns to sit in his director’s chair. he holds the script packet in his hand, and the clapperboard in the other. “action!” the cameras begin rolling at the clap.
immediately, bakugo grabs your chin and pulls you into a kiss, nipping at your lips while kirishima takes one of your nipples into his mouth and starts to suck. you moan against bakugo’s lips, your left hand sliding from your side up and into kirishima’s soft red hair, and you push his head into your chest further. at your right thigh, you feel bakugo’s cock hardening, ready for your attention. your hand wraps around it, thumb rubbing at the sensitive spot below his tip, and he groans, glaring at how kirishima’s taking up most of your focus. he leans over, and threads his fingers through his hair and tugs him right off your chest.
“oi! d’you want her pussy or her mouth?” kirishima’s face flushes, and he glances towards your pelvis silently.
“get on your hands and knees.” bakugo’s command leaves no room for hesitation, and you do exactly what he tells you. kirishima positions himself on his stomach, and places each of his hands on your ass cheeks. while bakugo gestures for you to open your mouth, kirishima presses his face into your pussy, his tongue dragging up and down your slit and collecting all your wetness. his fingers slip inside you, and your eyes fall shut for a moment when he matches bakugo’s pace.
you moan loudly, wiggling your ass back onto kirishima’s face, your mouth opening for bakugo’s large cock. “take it, princess.” he says, using a rare nickname. he exhales shakily once his tip passes between your lips, and pushes all the way in, smirking when you choke loudly.
slowly, he pistons his cock in and out of your mouth, speeding up when he hears you moan. you gasp around his cock when kirishima laps at your clit, his tongue silky soft against you. “red—! don’t stop.” your plea is muffled on bakugo’s cock, and he snaps his hips into your mouth faster when he hears you. bakugo groans loudly when he looks over your body, making eye contact with kirishima.
kirishima’s hands move from your ass cheeks to your hips, and he tugs you closer to him, licking your clit harder. “…taste so sweet,” he moans softly, and you clench on his fingers, jerking your hips back. the faster you cum, the faster he gets to have his way with you when he fucks you. gasping, your eyes travel from bakugo’s pelvis, up his sculpted body, to his face; his brows are knitted in concentration to not cum, and his jaw is slack from the pleasure.
“gonna cum,” you whine, your voice likely unheard over the sounds of bakugo’s groans and your throat being fucked. kirishima hears you, however, and licks your clit through your orgasm. he rises to his knees, uses his hands to spread your ass cheeks, and while you’re still twitching from cumming, he pushes his tip into you. then he snaps his hips forward, his cock sliding all the way inside you and bottoming out.
you gasp loudly, tears forming in your eyes and you stare into bakugo’s eyes. however, he and kirishima exchange a glance, and kirishima starts to fuck you hard and deep, and bakugo matches his pace. choking, you let out a sob at the way you’re being absolutely pounded from both ends. kirishima slaps your ass hard, and tosses his head back in bliss.
“fuck, i needed this. dynamight, should we cover her in cum or fill her up?”
“fill her up, red,” bakugo groans, desperately fighting off his orgasm, “and fuck her harder, for god’s sake.”
one of kirishima’s hands wanders to the small of your back, and he presses down slightly, keeping the both of you steady. the other hand snakes beneath your belly, and presses hard on your lower stomach, right above your pelvis. then, he slams his hips into you with much more gusto, his sounds reverberating throughout the studio. spit drips from your lips and down your chin, and tears flow freely down your face. kirishima’s thick cock is so deep inside you, and you’re so full of pressure you feel like you might explode. and bakugo — god, his cock’s stuffing your throat to its limit, and all you can think about is how much you need their cum.
you pull back off bakugo’s cock and bury your face in the couch cushions below you, sobbing as you throw your ass back onto kirishima. when you come back up, gasping, you say to both of them, begging, “fill me up and make me yours.” then you put all of your weight on your knees, and lift your arms to wrap them around bakugo’s waist, tugging him and his sexy adonis belt into your face. your mouth opens, welcoming his cock again, and with the change of position, he’s able to pound your mouth deeply enough for your nose to hit his pelvis.
with kirishima’s balls smacking into your clit and his cock pounding you so well, plus the added pressure on your lower belly, you find yourself cumming a second time, bakugo’s cock absorbing your loud, whiny moans. that one orgasm causes some sort of chain reaction — as kirishima fucks you through it, you feel another building, then crescendoing just as quickly as it came. but this one is different than the orgasms that preceded it; it feels so much stronger, and your pussy sounds really wet.
bakugo’s cock tightens and you know he can’t hold it back anymore. “shit, i’m so close.”
kirishima is the loudest of the three of you, his voice shaking and wavering as he registers that the three of you are all about to cum at the same time. “fuckfuckfuck, cumming, cum—”
“‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna—”
bakugo cups the back of your head harshly, pushing you into his pelvis as he fills up your mouth with an uncharacteristic whimper that he could care less about quieting. your pussy clenches like a vice, and you squirt, spraying kirishima’s abs and pelvis with your cum. the redhead pushes as deep as he can inside you when he fills you up, and whines as he fucks you through it, his cock screaming with overstimulation. bakugo does the same, overstimulating himself too, and they both collapse towards each other, the three of you knocked out in a pile.
“cut!” iida shouts, and the crew rushes to grab cleanup supplies.
SHŌTŌ.
☆ one of UA studios’ most popular stars, shōtō is the audience’s dream fuck. men and women alike go wild over his simple yet sinful roleplay videos, moans, physique, and gentle yet firm treatment of his co-stars.
“now, we’ve already taken most of the footage for the rest of the film, so the shower scene will wrap this up.” director iida eyes both you and shoto earnestly, then adjusts his glasses. “i’d prefer to shoot this in one take, since it’s the end of the day and i’m sure everyone is raring to clock out.”
“of course, i understand,” you nod, and shoto says, “that’s right.”
“great! you’ve read over the script well, yes?”
the two of you nod silently; director iida quickly rushes over to his chair and snatches the clapperboard from his assistant with a whispered thank you. shoto steps out of the bathroom set, and walks into the living room area. you shed your robe and place it on a hanger, then step into the shower, drawing the curtain closed behind you. then, you turn on the water and wait.
“action!”
having already shot the rest of the footage prior to the shower scene, there’s no need to waste any time. squeezing a bit of softly scented body wash onto your hands, you lather it up until it becomes bubbly, then you rub it all over your torso, making sure to get plenty of suds onto your tits. scanning the shower for your face wash, you groan audibly when you realize it was misplaced elsewhere in your shared apartment.
“sho!” you call loudly, your heart fluttering at the thought of what’s coming next. “could you get my face wash, please?”
you continue washing your body, bubbles sliding from your skin to the floor. you hear faint footsteps in the hallway, then the door opens and shoto says from behind the curtain, “here’s your face wash, it was in the kitchen, by the sink.”
“thank you!” he’s been watching your silhouette move on the other side of the flowery curtain, face visibly warming at the thought of you being completely naked, this close to him. he’s still holding onto the face wash, now looking at your used panties and shorts on the counter. his eyes are honing in on the damp spot in the middle of your panties, the way it looks just a bit too sticky to be regular discharge — you were horny today, weren’t you?
fuck, all he can think about is stealing your panties… wrapping them around his cock and using them to help him jerk off to you. the camera zooms in on his hands when he allows himself to pick up your panties, then on his mouth when he brings them to his lips and licks away your slick.
“sho, my face wash?” you ask, sounding confused. your (fake) roommate tosses the panties down, his cock now rock hard in his sweats.
“right, i’m so sorry.” not thinking straight, he snatches the fabric of the shower curtain and its lining and yanks it to the side, exposing you. you, his pretty little roommate, with suds all over her tits, tiny bubbles caught in the fine hairs at your pelvis (yes, he looked. and for a rather long time). you’re surprised, shock and shyness and embarrassment written all over your face, but you don’t dare to close the shower curtain and kick him out of the bathroom.
after all, you’d hoped something like this would happen.
following the script, he’s the first to look away as he hands you the face wash. the curtain falls from his grasp; you notice the outline of his cock in his sweats, and he acts as though he’s about to walk away, off to jerk his cock somewhere in his room.
“sho,” your tone is flirtatious, yet oh so needy as you set the face wash down and open the curtain further. “if you don’t get the hell in here and fuck me right now, i swear i’ll—”
before you know it, his clothes are in a messy pile on the floor, and his cock is bobbing as he gets into the shower with you. your back hits cool tiles and yet all you feel is warmth when shoto kisses you, your heart starting to race as his pelvis meets yours. shoto pulls you off the tiles and closer into his chest, groaning quietly at your soapy tits and hard nipples.
“i can’t tell you how long i’ve needed this,” he chokes out, squeezing your tits in his hand. “how i’ve always been waiting for this.”
so far, the script is halfway through. “oh yeah?” you reply breathlessly, “you’re talkin’ like i haven’t been waiting either.”
“waiting for you to—ah!—fill me up and fuck me u-until i can’t stand.” your body and voice shake as his fingers slip between your thighs, the pads of his fingertips grazing your clit and dipping into your soaked slit.
“you’re ready, aren’t you, babygirl?” the nickname rolls off his tongue easily, “prepped yourself before this shower, yes?”
“yes, shoto.”
“what a slut.”
your face burns when you moan involuntarily, hips twisting as he pulls away his fingers. he licks away your wetness, slaps your ass, and whispers heavily, “bend over for me.”
and you do, suds washing off your back since you’re in the stream of the water, both hands planted firmly against the wall. as shoto positions himself behind you, he takes off the shower head; the camera zooms in on your sticky folds, your cunt fluttering at what’s to come. you’d heard privately from some of shoto’s last co-stars, and rumors from all around the studio — his cock was big, and he knew how to use it to make whoever he was with scream. additionally you’d seen the videos online, clips of him stretching out so many women, their screams of pleasure heard in each.
“fuck!” a shockwave of pleasure rushes through you and you register that shoto’s got the shower head aimed at your clit, and the settings are up high. he slaps your ass hard, and your legs spread slightly. grabbing the base of his cock firmly, he guides his tip between your folds, and pushes in gently. you moan, pushing your ass towards him, desperately wanting his full length. “so fucking eager, huh?” he teases, using his free hand to grip your hip firmly; he draws his hips back, then slams all the way inside you, his cock stretching you close to your limits.
you moan sharply, tears burning in your eyes almost immediately. “g-god, you’re perfect,” he hisses, pressing the shower head closer to you, already pounding you hard.
“isn’t this better than taking my panties?” you ask boldly, breathlessly.
“isn’t this better than jerking off in your room, listening to me and my hookups fuck?” he questions you smoothly, and your attitude falls away when the head of his cock slams right into your g-spot.
“oh! r-right there, sho, please.”
“i want to hear you,” he insists, “i want to hear you begging f’me.”
“fuck me hard,” you gasp, tears flowing down your cheeks just as the suds on your tits do. “fuck me, and cum inside me, and u-use me how you want to!”
the script is halfway through, as is the scene, but you don’t want him to stop. the camera zooms in on where you’re connected to him, his cock wet with your stringy slick as he snaps himself in and out of your creamy pussy.
“i will, i will,” he soothes you, his hand slipping and pressing the shower head flush again your clit. with the settings as high as they are, the water proves to be too much, and you find yourself letting out a scream.
“sho—oh! shoto, i’m cumming—”
he fucks you through your orgasm, his head lolling back as he gasps, beginning to struggle to hold his own back. your body shakes as he continues with his ruthless pounding; you feel dizzy when his cock hits the deepest spots inside of you. the shower head is still at your clit, overstimulating you, and even though your pussy is screaming, you don’t remove it.
“fill me up, pleasepleaseplease— i need your cum more than anything else!”
only one orgasm and you’re already feeling dumb on his cock, pussy clenching with desperation as his cock twitches inside you.
shoto pictures the panties outside of the shower that he’d had on his face, taking in your scent and taste. he remembers the times he’d heard you indulging in your own pleasure, messing around with your fingers, hoping that you’d one day be full of cock. his cock. your roommate used to toss and turn in his bed before he’d get out the lotion and open your instagram.
(clips will be edited into the current scene by director iida and the rest of the crew.)
“oh god, fuck— i’m gonna fill you up, and i-i don’t want you to wash it out. i want you to be dripping when you come back and i fuck you again.”
his part of the script is over, and it’s now your turn to nod desperately, then beg him for his cum like a good slut, for the sake of the film— but you’re not acting like he is.
with a deep, gasping groan, shoto unloads inside of you, his cock twitching as he fills you to the brim, some cum leaking out of the sides of your pussy. he collects it on his fingers, and puts the shower head away, then pushes his fingers into your mouth.
“cut! that was excellent, the two of you! we won’t be needing to do another take.” director iida rushes up to you with praises, and shoto fucks into you shallowly, causing you to gasp.
“let’s meet in my office sometime later,” shoto offers with a smile, “to review the footage.”
CHARGEBOLT.
☆ sponsored by many sex toy companies, large and small, UA studios’ chargebolt is recognized by the way he wields his large collection of vibrators! the audience never knows what to expect from him, besides overstimulation of either himself, or his co-star.
after hours, chargebolt—denki, your best friend from UA studios— relaxes with you in your shared apartment and watches movies with you on the couch. occasionally, he’ll start his camboy streams in his bedroom, but he’s usually by himself, until tonight.
as he empties a box of vibrators beside his clothed lap, his phone buzzes as more of his fans join his livestream and leave comments. “guys, slow down,” he whines, struggling to read all the comments; his face changes when he reads a certain comment. “WHAT!? WHO JUST TOLD ME TO BEND OVER AND GET OILED UP??” after a pause, he huffs, “guys, i’m so close to making you all pay to join these lives.”
before denki can start talking to his audience again, the door opens rather loudly and he startles, his body jerking.
“what are you doing?” you ask, eyes moving from his phone and then to his own slowly. your hand finds its place on your hip, and you lean against the door frame, an eyebrow raised.
denki warms, his mouth suddenly dry. “oh.. i’m on a live stream.”
“so you’re a pornstar in the day, and a camboy in the night?” you chuckle ruefully, pushing off the door frame and walking towards him.
“well, yeah,” he forces himself to look away from his phone, and keep himself focused on you, standing over him.
chargeboltsballs — he has a gf ??
therockst4r — YOOO WHO IS SHE
sumumiya — istg if he doesnt fuck her
tipsnwhips — OMG SHE SOUNDS HOT ASF
BBYGIRLLL DONATED $20 AND SAID “invite her on”
“aren’t they curious?” you ask with a giggle, reading some of the comments.
he looks up at you, his face bright red. he can’t believe he’s introducing his camboy audience to his best friend with benefits, that he secretly has a crush on. at this point, you might as well be his girlfriend. “uh,” denki struggles to get over the embarrassment and shyness, “would you mind joining the stream with me?”
“sure,” you sit down cross legged beside him, wearing only a thin pajama top and short shorts. “i’ve actually never been on a stream before, what do we do?”
“we can answer and ask questions, or we can see what people ask of us. i typically do what people ask for donations, or if everyone is in favor of an idea. and there are rules that everyone must follow in here, so nothing bad will be suggested.”
you read a comment, laughing lightly. “no, i’m not his girlfriend. we’re best friends.”
denki notices how easily you laugh it off, and wishes he could find a way to tell you how he really feels. luckily, a commenter comes to the rescue.
Y/NSTITTY DONATED $25 AND SAID “wtf are y’all waiting for?? show us what being fwbs is like! :)”
you and denki scoot away from the camera, and closer to each other — you cup his jaw in your hand and pull him into a smoldering kiss, and he moans desperately, pressing himself closer to you. his hand lands on your back, fingers tugging at the hem of your thin pajama top. meanwhile, your hands insistently yank at the elastic waistband of his sweats.
with half lidded eyes, your lips part, still connected by a thin string of your shared saliva. now on your knees, you quickly rid yourself of your pajama top, and then drag his sweatpants down his legs. you remain in your underwear and shorts; he still has his shirt and boxers.
face hot and chest heaving, you glance towards the phone, which is exploding with comments that are moving far too quickly to read. “what next?” you both ask at the same time, his eyes on your tits.
unanimously, the comments are all asking for him to use his vibrators on you. some request that he tortures you with orgasms, others mention that you should be edged. in your UA studios videos, edging is one of your specialties.
hungrily, you fling yourself into his chest, biting and sucking at his neck. your hands pull his cock free from his boxers, which are wet with precum — he moans against your skin, shaking with need. “gonna torture me, hmm?” sloppily, you rub at his cock, thumb circling the wet head deliciously.
“lay back, babe,” denki finds himself saying, his confident persona back again. “gonna set you up here.”
the comments explode with celebration, excited for what’ll come next. you lay back onto the generous amount of towels he has set up, tugging off your shorts and underwear, ass looking soft and oh so delectable.
denki spreads your legs and spins you from your vertical position to a horizontal one, showing off your wet pussy. with some silky restraints, he secures a wand to your left thigh, the head of the vibrator nudging your clit. he repeats the same with your right thigh, your clit now trapped between two vibrators. in all your time being friends with benefits, he’s never used two vibrators on you at once.
“get on your knees,” he says, his cock bobbing as he stands. with greed that unmatches your excitement in your films or clips, you take his cock into your throat, hands rising to his hips to pull him towards your face. immediately, denki finds himself moaning, one hand tangling in your hair and pushing your head down further; his other hand grasps a small black remote that blinks with light.
chargeboltsballs — damn i’ve never seen her suck dick like that
coconutsss — they have chemistry fr.
“fuck, you f-feel so good,” denki tosses his head back, turning on both vibrators. your hips jerk as he adjusts them to a low-medium setting, the vibrations hitting your clit and flowing through your body like waves.
he tugs you in, your nose pressing into the finely groomed blonde hairs of his pelvis. you moan loudly, your eyes closing as you lean into the sensations of the vibrators. when they open, denki’s looking down at you with a flushed face and eyes full of desire.
you slurp down his cock, developing a fast rhythm so good he bites his cheeks and prays for the strength to hold back his load. he turns up the vibrators, easily switching them to the maximum strength.
you choke on his length, eyes watering as you stare into his own, your hips jerking into thin air. still, you don’t let this newfound pleasure interfere with your cock sucking — you feel his cock tighten a few times, then realize he’s holding himself back.
“let me fuck your throat,” he murmurs, gently pushing you back so you’ll rest on your knees, soaking in more of the sensation from the vibrators. you moan loudly, “c-chargebolt!” even though you really mean to say his name.
smiling faintly, he presses his cock into your open mouth and cups the back of your head roughly. in and out, he fucks into your mouth, his head falling back every time his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag, tightening around him. between your legs, both vibrators are covered in your slick, dripping onto the floor. your back stiffens when the head of his cock hits a spot that’s extra deep in your throat, and then you can’t take the vibrators any more.
with a desperate whine, you cum hard, your pussy spasming and dripping with more of your juices. tears roll down your cheeks when he keeps fucking your mouth, his pace slowing with a few gasps. the vibrators continue, pushing you through your sensitivity, and you quickly orgasm again, nearly falling onto your back.
denki pulls his cock from your mouth, and instructs you to position yourself in front of the phone. “get on your forearms and knees. i want your face down and your ass up, babe.”
“y-yes!” you agree, reading some of the comments in hopes that they’ll help you ignore the vibrators.
juicybaby6 — he’s so lucky tf!!
grndmsters — wonder how many times she’ll cum… betting 6 times
CHARGEISMYMAN DONATED $10 AND SAID “fuck her brains out bro 🫡”
denki laughs, “will do!” and pushes into your vibrating pussy, groaning loudly at the feeling. you’re so tight around him, so wet and hot — and you’re also vibrating, which feels extra nice on his cock.
“oh, fuck!” you press your face into a towel, nearly squealing when he develops a decent pace, feeling overwhelmed. “i—i’m so sensitive, i don’t think i can take it.”
“don’t worry, babe,” denki coos affectionately, “you’ll be perfectly fine.” after the words leave him, he immediately starts to pound you, hand landing sharply against your ass.
you gasp, pushing your ass closer to his cock, body shaking with effort as you hold yourself up. “i—i’m gonna cum again, please—” you want to beg him to turn off the vibrators, but you feel too fucking good to stop. with a cry, you cum again, statin to sob when the vibrations continue.
denki fucks your puffy pussy mercilessly, groaning loudly. “babe,” he gasps, “i’m gonna —fuck!—cum soon, p-please cum with me!”
just the sounds of his moans have you cumming for a third time. feeling dizzy, you muster out an “mhm, mhm, i’ll try” as the vibrations begin to feel both pleasureful and painful.
crying, you stare right into the phone at your best friend behind you, at how he’s completely unraveling. comments flood in, thirsting over the both of you and how fucked out you look. denki whines loudly, “oh, i’m cumming— with me, cum with me baby!”
a scream rips from your throat as he cums inside you, filling you up to the brim and then some. your fourth orgasm of the night hits you like a train, and all you cry out, “denki!” as your pussy spasms on his cock, feeling a little raw from the vibrators but oh so satisfied. without wasting time, denki rips the tied vibrators from you; they hit the floor loudly, absolutely soaked.
he pulls out for a second and then flips you over and lays you down, pushes back in, and he fucks you until his cum spills out of you, one of his favorite sights. the comments explode with questions and surprise, some pointing out your accidental reveal of denki’s true name during your orgasm.
he slumps on top of you, face buried in your neck, pecking at your sweaty skin gently. “thank you for joining the stream tonight.. i really had a lot of fun.”
“i can only hope i’ll be invited to join more,” you laugh, brushing his hair away from his face.
“are you kidding me? of course!” denki exclaims, nuzzling into your neck now.
the reveal of denki’s name spreads like wildfire online, and you both wake up cuddling to find that you’ve both received angry texts from your managers.
#kurooh#HAPPY 1K !!#maybe do a pt 2 with hawks & others?#mha smut#bnha smut#mha x reader#bnha x reader#deku smut#deku x reader#midoriya smut#midoriya x reader#bakugou smut#bakugou x reader#kirishima smut#kirishima x reader#denki x reader#denki smut
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Okay I have a request. Lando with his long time girlfriend and when Oscar joins the team they warn him to stay away from Lando’s drivers room after a race because him and reader love to ‘celebrate’ no matter the result of the race. And Oscar finds out the hard way. But McLaren are like use to it. 🤭🧡
Please and thank you.
a/n: i'm sorry this is short, but i literally couldn't come up with more for this :((( i'm trying to push through my little writer's block and put out as many fics as i possibly can while i still have a little time (i have my first exam on Thursday and I have so much shit to learn it's actually not even funny, but here i am writing fics instead of doing just that, yay me)
In all fairness, Oscar had been well warned about Lando and his girlfriend’s antics post-races. Given that the walls in the motorhome were very thin, as Oscar had stated previously, the team felt like they should let Oscar know what he was in for.
He hadn’t quite taken to heart what he had been told. He had been thinking to himself, how bad can it actually be? And oh boy, it was bad.
You and Lando had made a pact from the beginning of your relationship and when you started coming to all of his races that you would do something to celebrate his every race outcome, no matter how good or bad. You vowed to see every race as something positive and take something from each one.
The McLaren team had become accustomed to your shenanigans, knowing not to go anywhere near Lando’s driver room in the hours after the race. They had come to learn to stay away the hard way, if you know what I mean.
And yet, Oscar chose to ignore them. Why? He didn’t even know.
Maybe it was just pure curiosity, maybe it was ignorance, one could only make suppositions.
If he had managed not to hear anything that even remotely resembled the warnings he had been given up until that moment, he was in for a treat this time.
You had attended the Miami GP with Lando, catching a break from your studies and having promised him that he wouldn’t have to go to a race alone after failing to attend Japan. And imagine the joy you had felt once Lando had taken the checkered flag in P1. Scratch that, imagine what was going through your mind about the celebrations you were about to have with Lando as soon as he came back to the motorhome ;).
Your boyfriend had been thinking the exact same way, trying to make his way back to the hospitality as soon as he possibly could, but still politely stopping for interviews and photos or autographs.
But once he finally reached his room and saw you waiting for him, dressed only in your underwear, he knew he was in for an enormous treat.
Oscar hadn’t heard Lando get back. He had been so deep into thought and so focused on the music he had been listening to with headphones on that he hadn’t heard the door opening, the squeals that you let out once Lando had practically pounced on you as soon as he locked the door.
However, he was pulled out of his thoughts when he started hearing bangs, moans and dirty talking through his wall. At first he had thought he was hearing things. There was no way you were actually celebrating that loudly, right?
Wrong.
When he turned off the music and took off his headphones, he realized just how fucking loud you guys were being.
He didn’t even know how to react. What was he even supposed to do? Was he just supposed to leave his room and find somewhere else to hang out until you guys were done? Should he knock on your door and ask you guys to keep it down? No, Lando deserved the win and winding down whatever way he saw fit.
Sighing, he felt himself growing redder once the sounds on the other side of the wall only intensified. He couldn’t just stand around and listen to his teammate probably getting the fuck of his life after his maiden win, so he figured he would just get something to eat and hang out with either Mark or Logan.
The moment a member of the PR team, David, had seen him coming from his room, his cheeks a heavy crimson and refusing to make eye contact with anyone, he realized Oscar had just been the victim of Y/N and Lando.
“You heard them, didn’t you?” David asked him, an amused smile stretching on his face.
Oscar blushed even heavier, if that was even possible. Shyly, he nodded, making David laugh and pat him on the back.
“I didn’t think they were actually that bad” Oscar said, playing with his fingers as his ears could still pick up the noises he had done his best to avoid.
“We tried telling you, you didn’t want to believe us” David chuckled, patting him on the back again as he departed.
When you and Lando finally emerged from his room almost an hour later, the both of you laughed when you noticed how Oscar was avoiding eye contact with the both of you.
Poor Oscar…
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#imagines#oneshots#fanfiction#one shot#formula 1#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris blurb#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#oscar piastri#lando norris one shot#lando norris drabble#lando norris first win#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 fluff#mclaren#mclaren f1
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The Accident
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (Established Relationship)
Summary: Simon gets the call that you’ve been in an accident and are in the hospital.
Warnings: Health scare, mention of hospitals, accident (non graphic), brief mention of injuries (non graphic), hurt/comfort, Soft Simon
A/N: This piece is dedicated to a very sweet anon who has been through a lot. Anon, I hope this brings you some comfort <3 I’ve also decided to submit it to @glitterypirateduck's May Writing Challenge! This is one of my favorite tropes, so I hope you all enjoy!
Special thank you to @sim0nril3y for taking a look and for all the support
The knife glides effortlessly through the tomato, the metal utensil familiar in Simon’s grip. He makes quick work of the produce, fingers moving rapidly and precisely. “Knife skills aren’t just for the field,” he chuckles to himself as he adds the chopped remains to a bowl before turning his blade on a shallot.
Just as he slices into the root, the clattering vibration of his phone against the countertop interrupts. Simon frowns at the unfamiliar number flashing across the screen. Not many people had this number; he wasn’t one to get stray phone calls, which is exactly how he likes it. He has half a mind to send it to voicemail, but something tugs at his edges. At the last second he swipes across the screen and raises the phone to his ear. The line is empty for a moment.
“Simon?” The sound of your hoarse voice has Simon’s spine straightening, instantly on high alert.
“What’s happened.” The sharp words come out more like a statement than a question. Simon’s heartbeat quickens.
“I’m okay,” you start, but your wobbly voice betrays you. "But there was an accident—" Simon is in motion. Dinner is forgotten on the counter as he heads for the door, stepping into his boots on the way.
“Where are you?” There’s a commotion in the background, some kind of beeping that Simon can’t make out. He catches your hesitation as you wait to reply.
“Love. Where. Are. You.” His words are clipped, and for a split second he fears the phone might actually splinter in his hands given how hard he’s clenching the device.
“I’m in A&E. I—the ambulance just brought me here.”
Simon’s world tilts before him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing in deep. One single stabilizing breath is all he allows himself before opening his eyes, resolute determination clear on his face as a decade of training takes over.
“I’m on my way.” The phone clicks off as he grabs the keys off the hook by the door and rushes to the car.
The drive is a blur; he doesn’t pay attention to how fast he’s going, or what color the stoplights may be. Traffic laws are relative—he’s a man on a mission. His sole focus is getting to you. His heart pounds in his chest as he navigates the final turn, the hospital finally coming into view.
The car barely comes to a full and complete stop at the entryway before Simon’s door flies open.
“Sir, you can’t park here!” A disgruntled attendant calls out to him as he exits the vehicle, but Simon doesn’t even slow down, stepping around the irritated employee before barreling through the hospital entrance.
Only to be brought to a halt at the open lobby before him.
Shit. He hadn’t even thought to ask what room you were in. The frustration intertwines with the panic, and Simon has to force it down.
He’s here. He’ll find you.
And so Simon finds himself at the mercy of the kind, elderly receptionist, who seems to be taking her sweet time locating your information.
Simon tries not to crack the counter beneath his grip, foot tapping against the ground in irritation. You could be in surgery, you could be bleeding out, any number of things could be happening right this moment, and there is nothing he can do. Simon silences these thoughts, keeping the panic at bay. “Keep it together, lieutenant,” he reminds himself silently.
The receptionist, Shelley, her name tag reads, is unfazed by his erratic state, eyes squinting as she adjusts her glasses and leans back from the screen. Simon runs a hand down his face, using every ounce of self control he has to keep up a semblance of propriety.
“Ahh,” Shelley announces triumphantly. “Here they are! I found them.” She turns her gaze to the hulking man in front of her, taking in his large form and tentatively eyeing the tattoos along his forearm. “Sorry, what was your relation to the patient again?” She asks, a note of uncertainty laces her tone.
“I’m—” he hesitates. No words come to the tip of his tongue. He’s not a boyfriend for christ’s sake. Not your husband, though he wished more than ever he could use that word right now.
“Spouse? Partner?” Shelley raises an eyebrow, trying to help fill in the blanks here.
Simon swallowed hard. “Yeah, partner. Just, can you tell me where they are? Please.”
He’s not sure what comes over him as he tacks on that final plea. The desperation is clear in his words, but he couldn’t care less. Fuck it, he is desperate. Desperate to see you. Desperate to know you are okay—see it with his own eyes, feel your hands in his.
Shelley’s pointed gaze turns to one of sympathy. “Room 315, dear. The lift is to the right.”
The words are barely out of her mouth before Simon’s in motion once more. No time for the lift, he thinks to himself as he heads to the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time up to your floor. Brown eyes frantically scan every room number as he searches for yours before finally finding the correct digits outside the room furthest down the hall. The metal of the door handle is cool beneath his touch as he pushes open the door, charging into the room.
He comes to a stop at the foot of the bed, eyes frantically scanning your body, taking stock of each and every visible injury. He can hardly control the wave of emotions that threaten to pull him down as he takes in your bruised and bandaged appearance.
They’ve already set your arm in a sling, and there’s a large bulk encompassing your entire right leg, the bulk of it obvious even under the thin hospital blanket. An array of cuts and scrapes mar your perfect face, and the sudden onset of pure, unadulterated rage threatens to swallow him whole.
‘I’m going to kill them,’ the words echo in his mind–a dozen violent deaths planned out for whoever did this to you.
“Simon,” your hoarse voice calls out to him, but he can’t hear you over the sound of the roaring in his head.
‘I’m going to hunt them down. And I’m going to fucking kill them for this.’
“Simon,” you say his name louder, firmer, and attempt to sit yourself up. Pain radiates through your body, piercing through the haze of pain meds, and you can’t help the cry of pain that escapes your lips.
That is what pulls Simon out. On instinct, his feet move towards your bed, hand reaching out to clasp around your free hand.
Your lower lip trembles. “Simon.” The word is pitiful on your lips–a plea, a prayer, a cry for help.
It’s enough to pull Simon from the depths of this rage–revenge can wait.
“I’m here.” Simon’s voice wraps around you like a warm blanket, and the dam breaks, tears flowing fast and freely. “It was awful,” you gasp out between sobs. Simon makes soothing shushing sounds as he holds your hand tight in his own, his other hand reaching up to gently brush the tears away, taking care to avoid the scrapes that litter your skin as you recount what details you can remember of the accident.
“Shh, love, it’s okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “‘M sorry I wasn’t there, babe.” Bile threatens to rise in the back of his throat as the guilt settles in.
“Should’ve been there, should’ve never left your fucking side.” He stares at the layers of gauze wrapped around your leg, hidden beneath the thin blanket.
“Simon. Look at me,” you insist, waiting for those brown eyes to turn back to you. “Don’t go down that road, Si. There was nothing you could have done to stop this.”
“You don’t know that,” he bites back. Simon immediately regrets the harshness of his note. “You don’t know that,” he tries again, softer this time. “Should’ve been there.” He runs a hand over his face, the adrenaline is fading, causing the events of the past hour to finally catch up to him. He exhales sharply and looks back up at you, eyes determined.
“But ‘m here now. It’s over. I’m here.” He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “And I’m not going anywhere, love.”
True to his word, Simon stays by your bedside the entire three day stay in the hospital. He denies your pleas to go home and sleep in his own bed, insisting on sleeping in the rough, uncomfortable hospital recliner. Not only was the furniture laughably small for a man of his stature, but after the first night, Simon is convinced it was designed as some kind of long-term-torture device. Not once does he complain though, dismissing your worries with a casual wave of his hand. “Slept in worse conditions in the field, love. This beats a forest floor.” Though by night two, Simon isn’t so sure.
He’s always struggled with nightmares, but those nights in the hospital, his dreams turn to something worse: losing you in a car accident. The scene replays over and over in his mind’s eye until he’s woken up with a start, covered in sweat, and gasping for air. His eyes instantly lock on to the vital signs monitor above you, watching the thin green line of your heartbeat bounce up and down in a steady rhythm. He slows his own breathing down to match pace with yours, staring down at you as you sleep soundly. He watches the subtle rise and fall of your chest, further confirmation that you’re alive.
When he finally gets to bring you home, he acts as though you’re made of fine china, driving ten under the speed limit. He carefully guides you into the house, hands ready to catch you as you struggle with the metal crutches.
“Fuck,” you spit in frustration. “They made it look so easy in the hospital.”
After the second time you almost trip over them, Simon’s exasperation gets the best of him.
“Easy, swee’heart,” he implores, a note of desperation in his voice. “Just got you back, yeah? Can’t have you goin’ right back to A&E.”
He wishes more than anything he could just scoop you up into his arms and carry you straight to the bedroom, but with your leg in its current state, he has to settle for just hovering, perpetually at the ready to catch and support you. He swears the walk from the car to getting you settled in bed takes an entire year off his life.
That first night back at home together, Simon lays awake, watching you sleep. The combination of finally being back in the comfort of your own bed, along with the lack of obnoxiously loud machines beeping and being encumbered by wires, means you fall asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow. Simon lays beside you, as close as he dares to get, still so weary of your injuries. He leans over to press a gentle kiss to your temple, just above where a deep cut runs down your face. His finger hovers just above your skin as he traces the shape. “‘M sorry, love. I promise, I’ll take care of ya. This won’t happen again.” His words are barely above a whisper, drowned out by the soft snores of your breathing. He presses one more gentle kiss to you before turning out the light.
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon riley imagine#simon “ghost” riley x reader#ghostchallenge
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This kinda inspired by one of your enemies to lovers stories where eddie says “you wouldn’t be able to handle me” but reader instead says “oh yeah i couldn’t handle the two-centimeter-pussy-defeater bc id because i would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch.”
Sorry i have been holding that one in for quite some time 😤
Beg for it
enemies to lovers - one bed trope - eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT +18, piv, oral ( f & m), choking, degradation, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), porn with plot, fluffy at the end.
a/n: thank you for requesting babe, hope you love it!
5.7k words
“Game night at my place, the whole group will be there” Steve announces after greeting you. You went to visit him and Robin since you were already near the place. Also, maybe you could find a movie to watch tonight.
“Ugh, really? They all said yes already?” you ask.
“If you’re expecting me to say that Munson hasn’t, then I have bad news” he confirms.
“Fuck”
“You’re not even trying to be friends at this point” he complains.
“It’s impossible with him being so mean all the time” you tried to defend yourself but Robin was quick to refute your statement.
“You sure are mean to him as well, don’t act so innocent”
“Well, he started it! I didn’t even know him and he started with the jokes and asshole comments” you weren’t lying.
You were new in town, and new at the summer job your dad had found for you. He wanted you to already have some experience at working so you could make a better curriculum later. There was were you met Nancy and instantly became good friends. So much so that she had introduced you to her friend group she has had for years already. Steve, Nance, Jonathan, Robin and Eddie. The former four had been sweethearts to you since you first met them, easily becoming good friends as well. The problem was with the latter. The night Nancy had introduced you to everyone, he started being a little distant and cold towards you. You tried not to feel offended since he could just be shy or introverted, but then he started throwing snide comments and sarcastic mocking your way. You were not going to sit there and take that, so you equally threw cutting remarks at him.
That’s how the current war with him started. And that’s why your friends keep insisting with this forced proximity, so we could all be a happy family.
But it was useless, you and Eddie do agree on that.
The game night arrived that Friday. You were at the Harrington household with several board games awaiting on the table. Battleship, Clue, Guess Who, Monopoly, Scrabble, you name it.
“We wanted to make different groups and play all of these, then see which team is the best” Robin explains. “Steve and me will be team one” she says as she writes that in the whiteboard. They really went all out, since we could all be pretty competitive.
“Group two!” Jonathan exclaims quickly grabbing Nancy’s hand.
“Wait… no, definitely not” You start complaining after realizing that would mean you’re stuck with Eddie.
“No way! I’m not teaming up with her, she’ll make us lose at everything” he complains as well.
“I will? I think the actual loser here it’s you”
“Oh, am I now-?” The metal-head starts responding when Steve steps in, cutting him off.
“Okay! Stop yelling, we’re not even playing yet! The teams have been chosen, try and be faster next time”
“We’ll start with Guess Who” Robin announces.
As the game progressed, the bickering continued.
"Does your person have brown hair?" Eddie asks Nancy and Jonathan, who nod.
You reach over to flip down the characters with blond or red hair "See, this is why we should’ve picked someone with a hat, it's less obvious"
Eddie rolled his eyes "Oh, please. Like your guess was any better. We’re losing here!” Eddie complains.
"Only if you keep making terrible guesses" you shoot back.
"Does your person have a hat?" you ask the other team.
"No"
"Still think the hat was a good idea?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at you.
"It was strategic" you huff, flipping down the characters with hats.
After playing most of the board games you had, you were tied with the second group, Steve and Robin had already lost.
“Last but not least, to decide the winner of this evening, I present… battleship” Robin announces once more.
"You sure you can keep up with this game? It requires more than just a pretty face" Eddie asks you.
"Don’t worry, I have enough brains to make up for your lack of them" you respond.
“Quit it, start playing” Steve orders.
"Let's just get this over with" you roll your eyes.
They set up the Battleship boards, each team carefully arranging their ships. Eddie and you hunched over the board, whispering fiercely.
"Put the battleship here" he insist, pointing to the top left corner.
"No, it’s too obvious. Let’s hide it in the middle"
"Fine, but when they hit it right away don’t blame me" he groans.
As the game progressed, your bickering intensified.
"B6" Jonathan called out.
You glance at the board and softly nod your head "Hit"
Eddie leans closer, his voice a teasing whisper, "I told you the corner was better"
"Just focus"
When it was your turn, Eddie called out "G4"
Nancy checks their board, "Miss"
You smirk "Looks like your guess wasn’t so great either"
Eddie rolls his eyes "Just wait"
A few rounds later, it was your turn again.
"E5" Eddie calls out.
"Miss" Nancy announces.
"I told you they wouldn’t put it there" you huff.
"Like you’ve done any better"
"How about C3?" you roll your eyes.
"Fine, C3" Eddie sighs.
"Hit" Jonathan says between his teeth.
"See? I told you" you smirk.
"Don’t get cocky, princess"
The tension built as the game neared its end, each team with only one ship left.
"Last shot, let's go with G3" Eddie says
You nod.
"You sunk our battleship" Jonathan confirms after a long sigh.
“YES!”
“COME ONN” both you and Eddie shout in excitement and before even thinking about it you hug tightly.
Robin and Steve watch the scene with wide eyes and smirks on their faces.
And the second your bodies touch each other you realize what you’re actually doing. The hug only lasts few seconds before you both back away awkwardly.
“See? You actually do make a pretty good team” Robin comments.
“Only because I took the last shot” Eddie says.
“Oh please, if it were up to you we’d still be guessing corners” you reply.
"And if it were up to you, we'd be stuck in the middle forever”
Your friends roll their eyes as the bickering continued. And as you act indifferent, you try not think about how you had to stand on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, or how soft his hair had felt touching your skin.
His frizzy and chaotic hair. But so curly and soft.
--
Couple of weeks after that night had passed, you hung out with the guys almost every weekend. You favorite nights were the ones Eddie was busy and couldn’t make it. Like tonight.
“Pass the salt, please” Nancy asks Robin. You all went out to have dinner together. Not all actually, Jonathan was too busy as well, him you did miss.
“It’s like we’re having a girl’s night!” you say excitedly and both girls laugh as well.
“No, you’re not about to count me in as a girl” He complains.
“Oh please, you have better hair than me!” Robin comments and he rolls his eyes.
“I’m just teasing, jeez! Someone has their panties in a twist!” you joke.
“Are you on your period or something?” Nancy joins in sarcastically.
“Alright, not even funny” Steve interrupts. “Let's focus. I think we should keep planning the trip, even though we’re not all here tonight”
“Don’t even mention it. I miss Jonathan so much, he’s been so busy lately. I think he really needs a break” Nancy complains and Robin agrees with her.
“I know, it’s really noticeable when Eddie’s not here either”
“Oh yeah, he’s the one I miss. His irritating voice and loud comments. His annoying essence it’s what’s missing here!” you joke but they don’t find it funny.
“We’ve been through this, you’re gonna have to learn to like each other”
“Sure sure, so… the trip?” you change the topic acting foolish.
“Yeah, I liked the hiking option. We always go to the lake every summer, we should change it up” Nancy votes. You’ve never went to any lake with them since this is the first year you’re joining them. But they had told some stories about this hidden lake they usually go to in summer.
“I think so too, plus we should do something different since we have a new integrant” Steve comments smiling at you. Robin and you also agree to go with that option.
The guys make sure of telling the rest everything you have agreed on that night. You’ve settled on where to go hiking and the cabin that would be waiting for you at night.
A few weeks later you're all set to go.
The trip to get there was...
Steve and Jonathan took turns driving. "You must be a really shitty driver if no one here trusts you behind the wheel" you notice and tell Eddie.
"I'm not a bad driver, princess. Maybe we could go for a drive sometime and you could judge for yourself! We'll call it a date" Eddie teases you the way he knows will shut you up, it always worked. As soon as he started flirting with you, it was like you got shy all of the sudden. Replying with some nonsense that would make Eddie laugh harder because he knew he had won.
"I'd rather get eaten by a shark" you respond ignoring the nervousness that ran through your body.
"Alright, we still have a few hours ahead of us, and I'm not gonna make them with you two bickering the whole way there. So calm down" Steve —or actually, mom Steve— told you off.
Once you got to the cabin, you parked the car, settled everything down, ate something and got ready for today's hiking exercise.
Eddie was never a big fan of sports, so he knew that after an hour or so of hiking —no matter how slow they were walking or how much water he was drinking— he would just start to stay a little behind. Not a lot, but definitely the last on the row.
Also, he started to get bored. Eddie was chatting with Jonathan, but he started to take pictures of every little plant or flower he saw, and the higher you got, the more pictures of the view he wanted to take.
So Eddie started to walk in silence, taking notice of other little things, like the fact that you and Steve look pretty close and pretty giggly with each other since you started hiking. But not only that, obviously, it's not like he's jealous or anything. For him to be jealous he would have to like you in the first place, and there was no way Eddie wants you.
You're the obvious person to like; everyone in Hawkins is already smitten with you. Every guy has a crush on you because you're undeniably beautiful. He knew from the first moment he saw you that you'd never go for a guy like him. So, to keep himself from showing any sign that he wanted you, he did the opposite —he started to hate you.
So he is definitely not jealous. He was only noticing that like he noticed the colourful rocks that he walked by, or the clouds in the sky, or the way those shorts hug your body so nicely.
But he keeps hearing your laughter every ten seconds. Was Steve really being that funny, or you were acting all giggly for him? Did you like Steve? It certainly seems like you do.
You, however, were having so much fun. In the middle of a funny story Steve was telling you about some guy who tried to flirt with Robin at work and the look on her face not knowing how to tell him she didn’t like him —or well, any men for that matter.
The forest path was rugged, but you welcomed the challenge at first, feeling the cool morning air on your skin. However, after a while, your legs began to protest, your breath came in shorter gasps. It was hard to keep up with Steve. Swimmer and football player Steve. So you had to slow down a little, now walking alongside Eddie.
“What’s the matter, princess? Can’t keep up?” he teases with a mocking tone.
“You literally got behind sooner than me” you answer, shaking your head. “If anyone’s slow here, it’s you”
“But it looks like we're both walking together now, so who's really winning?” Eddie chuckles, unfazed by your sharp reply as his eyes twinkle with amusement.
You decide to ignore him. How foolish of you to think that he would accept that silence.
“So what’s the deal between you and Steve? You looked pretty cozy back there. You’re not very subtle, you know”
“There’s no deal with Steve, we were just talking” you roll your eyes, irritation flaring up.
"Right, just talking" he says, his tone dripping with scepticism. "You’re so obvious, it's almost painful to watch"
“Why don’t you stop jumping to conclusions and mind your own business”
“Ohh, is the princess mad at me now? I’m so scared!” he grins, clearly pleased with himself.
“You’re impossible” you say almost to yourself.
You kept walking for a few more hours, taking occasional breaks to catch your breath and sip some water. The trail seemed endless, but the beauty of the forest made it worth the effort.
As you trudged along, you noticed the sky darkening. Grey clouds, rolling in with alarming speed. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves more aggressively.
A man in uniform hurrying down the trail called you out. "Hey, you guys need to find shelter! A big storm is coming in fast. There's no way you'll make it back down in time"
Panic start to appear in all of your eyes.
“Wait? Seriously?” Nancy asks.
“Yes! There’s a motel that’s a few minutes away, to your left” the guy informs you. “I don’t know how much room they have left, cause I’ve been sending some people there already. But you should go now”
Finally after quickening your pace, you spot the outline of a motel nestled among the trees. You hurry towards it. As you approach, you see the motel was old but resistant.
You reach the door and push it open, stumbling inside just as the storm unleashed its full fury. Inside, it was dim and musty, but at least it was dry.
“Hello, uh, we need room for six, please” Nancy is the first one to get to the register and talk to the old woman who was reading a newspaper as if she hadn’t heard you coming in.
“$70 the night” she answers without even looking up at you.
“Uhh… okay, we’ll take it” Nancy says and as you all reach for you wallets, the woman gives you three keys.
“There’s only three rooms left, two with queen beds and one with two separate single beds” she speaks again, as slowly as she can apparently.
“SEPARATE BED” Robin shouts fast.
“ME TOO” Steve is quickly to join her on calling dibs for that room. Not wanting to share a bed.
“Wait! No!” you complain. “Why would you get it just cause you screamed?”
“We called dibs, sorry sweetie” Robin explains.
“But that’s not fair, we should have discussed it!” Eddie joins in.
“Too late” Steve says handing the money to the woman and taking the key of their room.
“Come on guys, maybe they have a couch” Jonathan tries to make you feel better as he also pays and picks a key to their room.
“Are you actually making us share a bed?!” you ask them offended.
“Maybe it’ll help you become friends!” Robin tells you.
After paying and grabbing that stupid key, you all go to your rooms. As you walk in you notice that, in fact, there is no couch.
“Fuck” Eddie complains once again. “I’ll take the floor, let’s just find some blankets that I can sleep on”
And you turn that room upside down trying to find some. But the only blanket in the room is the –only– one on the bed.
“There’s nothing here!” you sit on the bed admitting defeat. “We’re both gonna have to sleep on the bed. I’m gonna freeze without a blanket and you can’t sleep on the bare floor, you’d freeze too”
“If you wanted to sleep with me, you could’ve just said so” Eddie jokes.
“Not now, Munson! Really not in the mood!”
After each getting ready for bed, you start building a wall of pillows in the middle. Separating his part of the bed from yours.
“I bet you wouldn’t make Steve have a wall of pillows” he mumbles, but you’re able to hear him nonetheless.
“Did you not listen when I said not now?!”
“See, that’s the problem with you. You think you can just walk in here acting like you own the fucking place. Newsflash, princess, not everyone is going to fall at your feet following your little orders!” Eddie gets mad for real this time, but so are you.
“I’m so sorry for trying to make this less uncomfortable! Actually, if you want I’ll even cuddle you while we sleep!”
“Shut up” Eddie rolls his eyes.
“No really, we should even make out before sleeping while we’re at it! Maybe that’ll prove to you that I don’t fucking like Steve”
“Yeah, you wish” Eddie comments.
“Actually, I think you wish. Giving that you’re always trying to flirt with me when we argue and giving how jealous you seem to be about Steve” you notice.
“I’m not fucking jealous. And you’re the one suggesting to fucking make out!”
“See, I think you do want to. You’re just too much of a pussy to even admit it” you whisper close to his face.
“Oh my God, princess!” Eddie starts laughing arrogantly. “You wouldn’t even be able to handle me”
“Oh yeah, you’re right! I could not handle your two centimetres because I would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch” you respond at his face.
But he doesn’t say anything back. He just looks at you. His jaw clenching, eyes darkening, breath heaving.
Before you can react, he closes the distance in one swift, aggressive movement. Gripping your arms tightly, he kissed you fiercely and angrily, his lips bruising against yours, as if trying to channel all the pent-up emotions into that kiss.
To say that you're shocked would be an understatement. But you did kiss him back. How could you not? With all the ardor and sentiment that he was putting into that kiss?
That fucking kiss.
After he felt your lips moving along with his in a dance, he let all the anger go. The kiss became passionate and intense instead of angry. Like you were finally letting go. Stopped overthinking and finally giving in.
You didn't need to talk. You didn't want to. Instead, you put one hand on his haw and the other on his hair, feeling it in between your fingers, bringing him even closer.
He sighs, holding a grunt as he feels you play with his hair. His hands move lower to your hips, feeling the upper part of your body in the process.
A fight for dominance is held up between you two. He bites your lip harshly, and you let out a little gasp that allows him to win. He's playing dirty. You're not surprised.
He starts to push you down slowly, so you're lying on the bed with him on top of you.
Your hands travel lower as well as you feel his back. You wonder if he has any tattoos there as well.
He dares to leave your lips alone as he lowers his kisses to your jaw and then your neck. He kisses and bites and licks all over your neck. You can bet that he is leaving marks as purple as a grape.
It turns you both on even more.
Eddie feels like he's flying. He's even touching the clouds. Marking you all up is only an image that haunts him in his fantasies. Like when he can't sleep, or is in the shower, or after fighting with you all evening and you're looking so beautiful and you're being such a brat. That's when he imagines leaving you all bruised out. But he's actually doing it right now, and he's going feral.
You start to feel like you're too dressed. His hands go under your shirt, and he starts to pull it up. You pull your arms up as well so he can take it off. His kisses keep traveling lower on your body. Your chest, your shoulders, the top of your breasts. He stops there. Making out with one of your nipples over the lace of your bra while pinching the other. You start moaning, your hips move searching friction on your core, and he lowers his hips so you can start dry humping him.
You feel his smirk against your sensitive skin as well as his hard on against your centre. Mocking your desperation. You're not surprised.
He moves up, meeting face to face once again. "So desperate for me, aren't you princess?" he whispers so closely to you face you can feel his lips moving and his evil smile too.
He watches you breath hard and your legs trying to close searching for that friction in between once more.
"Ask me nicely and I'll take care of you" he proposes and you roll your eyes.
You can't. You won't.
"Beg for it, princess" he tries again. "Let me hear you"
You shake your head. You're playing difficult, but Eddie likes a challenge.
"No? You're not gonna beg for me? Alright princess, you know what I'm gonna do?" he pauses to think. "I'm gonna make you cum so fast on my tongue you'll be embarrassed, and then you'll know how much of a desperate slut you can be for me"
You want to laugh and tell him off, but you are so intrigued by his confidence at the same time. You settle for a defiant look thrown at him, he catches it and smirks again. Something tells you you'll be seeing that smirk quite a lot tonight.
He unhooks your bra and throws it somewhere in the room, he squeezes your tits and caresses your nipples making a mental note to keep playing with them later. His hands travel down to your pants which are the next item being thrown away inside the room.
He takes a second to admire the view of you only on those white panties and he feels his cock jump. He proceeds to take your underwear off too, but this item is put inside his back pocket.
He puts your legs over his shoulders and lowers to be closer to your pussy. He bites his lip admiring how fucking pretty and perfect it looks. He wastes no more time and dives in.
He licks it and kisses it and sucks on it drunk on your taste. He fucking makes out with your clit and has you meowing and arching back like a damn cat.
His hands grab your thighs so hard he's probably leaving marks there too. He sighs and hums and laughs against your pussy hearing your pretty moans.
He looks up at you as you look down at him and you both feel like you could just cum at the sight alone. Your cheeks blushed, eyes watery, hair a mess, lips swollen and little moans are still coming out of them. He looks up at you while still sucking on your clit so fucking good. His eyes are covered by his bangs so you reach to move them to the side. His puppy eyes look straight at you, his hair is also a mess, and his hands are gripping you with so much force his skin as well as yours becomes whiter. And his rings feel cold and addictive against you.
You try to fight your orgasm but looking at him makes it impossible. It hits all throughout your body so good that you cry out his name as you pull on his hair.
As you catch your breath, he sits up and washes all your wetness off his face with the back of his hand, all that with a big smirk on so proud of himself.
"Still doubting me?"
You grunt, annoyed, and bring him closer. You pull his shirt over his head and take a second to admire his bare chest and arms covered in tattoos. You unbutton and unzip his pants. He's just watching you act so desperate for him to undress, enjoying every second of it like the cocky motherfucker he can be.
"Need help?" he whispers on your ear, and you nod with a pout. He stands up and takes his pants of slowly.
"These too?" he asks, signalling his boxers. You nod as you feel even hotter paying attention to the big tent he has on them.
He puts them down too, standing up proudly as you look at his big cock. "Half inch you said?" he teases you, and you look up at him as if telling him to shut the fuck up.
You sit up facing his dick. You grab it gently as you keep looking at it. How is it so... pretty? How the fuck does Eddie manages to be pretty everywhere. Even what you thought could not be pretty. He manages to make it look beautiful.
A mischievous thought crosses your mind. And you start leaving some kisses on the tip. Even a lick here and there.
He gasps unexpectedly. You put the tip in your mouth, moving your tongue around it. He lets out a little moan. You look up at him, he's already looking at you. And you proceed to slowly put all of it in your mouth while maintaining eye contact. His tip touches your throat, and you have to fight a gag. You still have a full fist grabbing the rest that didn't fit your mouth. He moans again at your little show. You close your eyes and start moving your head up and down. Eddie moans louder this time, and hands stop your movements.
"As much as I enjoy this, princess, and I really fucking am" he lets you know. "I want to cum once I'm inside of your perfect little pussy, can I?"
You take him out of your mouth with a 'pop' at the end and look at him defiantly once again. "Beg for it" you challenge him feeling proud of yourself.
He laughs. "Are you seriously telling me to beg for it while you're still practically on your knees for me?"
You won't let him win this one, so you lay back again resting on your elbows. "Beg for it"
He takes a big breath in ogling over all of your body on display for him and only him. He'll let you win this one because his dick is throbbing at the sight before him.
His hands travel up your legs and your hips to your waist. "Please, princess" he says once his face is closer to yours.
"Please, let me fuck you so good" he starts humping his dick against your pussy which makes you both gasp.
"Please, please, please" he kisses your cheek to sugar-coat you.
"Eddieee" you move your pelvis up and down against him. "Do it, put it in"
And he wastes no time to do so. Pushing his tip inside and you both gasp. He bites his lip and thrusts to enter you completely.
"Oh, fuck" your head is thrown back and you lay back down. He feels so big and so fucking good in you.
"Mhh, fuck princess" he lowers his body to be chest to chest with you. "You feel so good baby, so tight around me"
You have to bite your tongue to stop you from moaning his name, you can't keep inflating his ego.
"Don't get all quiet now. You're always talking and the one time I wanna hear you..." he teases you.
"Earn it" you manage to get out. It's ironic how your lips are almost bleeding from how hard you're biting on them to stop you from moaning as hard as you want to, but you still tell him to fuck you better.
Eddie knows what you're doing, but he likes playing with you too. So he accepts the challenge.
He gets up on his knees against the bed and takes your legs to pull you closer to him. You instantly wrap them around his hips. He wraps a hand around your throat and he looks like he's about to say something, but instead, he enters you again. A moan escapes from your mouth instantly, and you see his big smirk back.
He starts a hard and fast pace with his thrusts as you hear his sighs against your ear. You can't help the whines and moans that escape you now. Your hands go to his back scratching him, and pulling at his hair, but it only makes him moan harder.
He lowers his head to your breasts once again and keeps kissing them as he fucks you. You arch back again, because you can feel him everywhere. And he feels so so good.
He feels you clench around his dick and he thinks he could just cum right now. So he starts playing with your clit with his fingers.
"Eddiee... 'm so closee" you whine pulling him somehow even closer.
"Yeah? You are?" you nod desperately. "Beg for it" he whispers and smirks right after saying it.
You roll your eyes but it doesn't take much to convince you this time.
"Please, Eddie," he was about to tell you that you can do better, but beat him to it. "Please baby, you feel so good inside of me, so big. Eddie, please"
Eddie has to stop himself from cuming -which he almost does. "Cum for me, baby"
And you do. Your orgasm hits even harder than the first one. You gasp and whine without even thinking about it.
Few seconds after that, Eddie can't take it anymore. He feels you clench even harder while you cum and it becomes too much. So he lets go too while moaning your name against your skin.
You take a few seconds to catch your breaths when you feel Eddie pull out —and after admiring how his cum drips out of your pussy— he gets up, puts on his boxers and goes to the bathroom, only to come back with a wet towel to clean you up. To say he surprised you again was an understatement. Who would have thought he would be so careful?
After you go to the bathroom as well —with wobbly legs Eddie smirks about— and change into some comfy clothes, you both lay down. No wall pillow this time. And are quick to fall asleep after all the exercise you did today.
The next morning wasn’t so sweet. Loud knocking on your bedroom’s door accompanied a loud Robin telling you to get up already.
Waking up all curled up with him was bound to happen. But if someone would have told you yesterday morning that today you would be waking up with Eddie Munson spooning you, you would have laughed at their face.
But here you are, and to be honest, it had been a while since you slept so peacefully.
You feel him groaning against the skin of your shoulder, holding you tighter.
You slowly opened your eyes to accustom to the light.
“Did you end up killing each other last night?! Answer me!” Robin shouts again from the other side of the door.
“Certainly feels like it” Eddie murmurs and laughs at his own joke.
“We’re awake! Calm down!” you let her know.
“We have to leave so then we can breakfast, so hurry up!” she lets you know.
You get up and start tiding up. Eddie is slower, he sits on the bed barely opening one eye to look at you and smiles. “Good morning, princess”
You look at him and a little smirk escapes from your lips. “Hey” you greet him shyly.
You both start changing to get down and tidy everything down. After you both brush your teeth, you go to pick up your backpack but he stops you to pull you in close to him.
“Good morning” he says again with his face close to yours while he pulls a strand of your hair behind your ear. Then he proceeds to kiss you, sweetly this time. Which warms your heart. You kiss him back playing with his hair once again.
“Hi, Munson” you say sweetly against his lips.
“You look beautiful in the morning” he admits but before you can even react, the knocking on your door is back.
“Okay! Okay! We’re coming!” Eddie stops them. “Jesus”
After getting down, you were waiting for them to explain where you would be having breakfast but as soon as they see you they start looking at you funny.
“What?” Eddie asks being as confused as you but they all start laughing.
“What is going on?” you ask again.
“Are we just gonna pretend like nothing happened?” Jonathan asks now.
“Yeah, were you gonna act like you still hate each other today?” Steve teases.
And you understand all the laughter. You and Eddie look at each other surprised and apparently this is also very funny because they start laughing again.
“Oh fuuuck” Jonathan starts mocking the way Eddie sounded last night also acting like moaning your name.
“Oh Eddie, so close!” Steve joins him acting like you.
Your face is as red as a tomato right now and you feel like you could just die, it would be better than taking whatever this is. You hide your face in Eddie’s shoulder after he just rolls his eyes fighting another smirk.
He laughs at you, put stills hugs you.
“You wanted us to like each other…” He defends you two.
“Yeah, apparently you took that very literal” Robin teases after catching her breath.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#enemies to lovers
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You introduce your husband as your "boyfriend" to annoy them.
Anon! This prompt has me screaming! I really enjoyed writing for this one because it's such a fun idea. Sure, our 141 boys might be a little mad that they aren't being called by their proper title, but you know they'll just love punishing you for it.
I went a little different with this one. Instead of introductions, I made it so that reader is constantly referring to them as "boyfriend" in public settings. Depending on the situation, introductions wouldn't make sense if it was with friends, family, or coworkers because they would likely already know that they're "husband" and not "boyfriend." So i changed it up a bit in that way!
Some of these fall into spicy territory without being descriptive.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, suggestive themes, non-descriptive mentions of sex, fade to black, brief dirty talk
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Simon shakes his head and you roll your eyes.
“We can ask someone for help,” you suggest, scanning the massive wall of televisions.
Simon grunts and crosses his arms. “No.”
Sometimes Simon’s stubbornness is cute—even sexy—but right now you’re just annoyed with him. It makes you want to stir up trouble, to cause a little chaos just for the fun of it. Pouting, you turn, eyes narrowing to find an associate of the electronics store. When you spot one near the HDMI cables, you take off, not caring if Simon follows.
“Excuse me.”
The man’s head perks up. “How can I help you?”
You gesture behind you, your hand smacking into Simon’s chest. “My boyfriend—”
“Boyfriend?” growls Simon, but you ignore him.
“—can’t decide on a television.”
Simon is not your boyfriend. He’s your husband. But he’s being stubborn, not making a decision, and you want out of this store.
Shifting, you place one hand on Simon’s large bicep, grinning like you haven’t done anything at all. Simon’s hand immediately grabs your ass, squeezing hard. A warning. One that you ignore.
“I can help with that,” replies the associate. You glance at the man’s nametag. Jim.
“Thank you so much, Jim.” You lean against Simon, giving Jim your best smile. “Getting this guy to commit to anything is so hard sometimes, ya know?”
Jim makes a noncommittal noise as he walks toward the wall of televisions. You start to follow but Simon’s hold on your ass tightens, keeping you pressed against him. Simon leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.
“What are you doing?” he whispers.
You elbow Simon in the side but it’s not hard. He lets go, keeping close to you as the two of you follow Jim over to the televisions. Standing back, you watch with glee as Simon is forced to talk to Jim. You stay out of it, but notice Simon’s gaze switching to you every so often.
You already know what he’s thinking. He’ll likely want to punish you, and sometimes those punishments are so sweet.
Once Simon selects something and the two of you are at the car, there is no safety net. Simon shuts the trunk and then you’re pressed against the car, your body trapped between it and Simon’s massive form.
“Boyfriend?” he accuses.
You shrug. “What do you mean?”
The growl in Simon’s throat comes out a groan. “Get in the car.” He lightly slaps your ass as you open the passenger door.
As you start to slide in, Simon’s hand returns, this time slipping under your skirt to find your thin, lace underwear. He tugs sharply, ripping the fabric.
“Simon!”
He stuffs the underwear into his pocket. “You don’t need these.” You feel your face growing hot.
Simon shuts your car door and walks around the driver’s side, hopping in. He reaches out, placing one large hand on your bare thigh. It roams upward, squeezing, sending a shiver of lust up your body to make your head spin. “When we get home, I’m fucking that boyfriend nonsense right out of you.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“I’m so sorry, but this isn’t what my boyfriend ordered.”
Kyle frowns and glances up from his phone’s screen. That’s your voice he hears, but the term of address isn’t right.
Boyfriend. Not husband, as it fucking should be.
Kyle glances in your direction but you’re not looking at him. You’re smiling sweetly at the barista behind the counter.
“It should be hot. Not iced. I might have messed up. I’m so sorry. I can pay for another.” You raise your hands in a placating gesture but the barista doesn’t appear fazed at all.
“No biggie. Keep that one. Won’t take me more than a minute or two.”
“Thank you so much.” You glance at Kyle, and your smirk tells him all he needs to know.
You’re being a tease. You’re doing this on purpose. The drink order is wrong, and you’re using this as an excuse to poke at him.
Kyle locks his phone and casually slides it into his pocket. Do you think you’re going to annoy him by doing this? Maybe. The little smirk on your face tells him that’s entirely what you have in mind.
But the joke is on you. Doesn’t matter if you refer to him as “boyfriend,” because all it’ll earn you is a punishment.
As the barista slides the new drink across the counter to you, you thank them profusely. “Thank you so much. My boyfriend will really appreciate it.”
The barista only nods and turns back to the espresso machine.
As you approach with the coffee, Kyle gentle removes the drink from your grasp.
“Boyfriend?” he asks, amused.
You shake your head like you have no idea what he’s on about. “What?”
Kyle laughs and snags the other drink from your hand. With shock on your face, he strides up to the counter. “Can you set these aside for us? Be right back.”
They only nod and continue working. Kyle snags your wrist and drags you to the little hallway that curves out around. There are a few private corners in there, and the hallway itself opens up into the nearby bookstore.
Kyle checks the handle on the unisex bathroom. Finding it unlocked, he draws you inside.
“Kyle,” you hiss, but he’s not having any of it.
Kyle engages the lock and presses you up against the door.
“You owe me an apology,” he says.
“For what?” Kyle tuts, his hand sliding to the back of your neck. “Get on your knees,” he murmurs, undoing his belt buckle with the other hand. “Apologize with that gorgeous mouth of yours.”
John Price
John leans back in his chair, agitation irritating his spine.
House hunting isn’t something he’s particularly excited about. He is happy that it’s with you, his wife, but the tediousness of it all is exhausting to him. John would rather have you select a few places to tour and then be done with it all. Money isn’t the issue. He just wants you to find a place you like and the two of you can go from there.
He’d live in a tent if that’s what you want.
“My boyfriend isn’t all that picky.”
Boyfriend? John is tugged from his inner musings by your voice and that term of address. Boyfriend. Why the fuck would you call him that? John isn’t your boyfriend. He’s your goddamn husband.
You reach out, planting a hand on his thigh. You squeeze softly as you always do when you’re trying to reassure him, but John frowns down at it, and then looks up at you. You’re not looking at him. You’re staring at the realtor, completely ignoring him.
John licks his lips, considering whether to correct you or not, or leaving it up to a simple mistake, but you do it again.
This time, John didn’t mishear you.
Your hand squeezes his thigh again and Price rests his hand over yours. His fingers enclose your palm and he holds firm. You glance at him and John shoots you his best warning look. You don’t even react. Don’t event blink.
No. He’s going to correct you. He is absolutely fucking correcting you.
The realtor pivots the computer monitor. “I think any boyfriend would agree that these are excellent selections.”
That’s fucking it.
Price shoots up from his seat, keeping a tight grip on your hand. “I need to speak with my—” John pauses, swallowing down his annoyance. “Girlfriend. Privately.”
The realtor shrugs, smiling, but John is already turning around, dragging you out the door. Outside, the stuffy, summer air does nothing to soothe his annoyance.
“Boyfriend? Fucking boyfriend?” John crosses his arms over his chest, looming over you.
You shrug. “What’s the problem?”
“Behave yourself,” he says, lowering his voice.
“Or what?” you ask in mock innocence.
So, this is what you want. John understands the moment the words leave your mouth. You’re fucking teasing him. Fine. He’ll make you learn.
“We are gonna go back in, thank the kind woman for her time, and then we’re leaving.”
“No. I want to stay.”
John leans in but he notices the way you glance away from him and back, clearly flustered. “Good girls don’t play games.”
“Funny,” you reply, head tilting slightly. “That as my boyfriend you have any authority over me.”
John pivots, blocking the view of the front door from you. “I will bend you over that bench so fast, wife.”
“You won’t,” you stammer.
John arches an eyebrow and you visibly swallow. “Want to test me?”
You pout, and then playfully shove him in the chest. “You’re terrible.”
As you turn for the door, John grabs your waist pulling you close. “You started it.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
“My boyfriend and I are redesigning our bathroom.”
Johnny’s attention splits. The associate showing him floor tiles is a distant thing. He might be talking about the newest ones on the market, but Johnny is no longer interested.
Did he just hear you right? Did you just call him boyfriend?
“That’s wonderful,” comes a reply, and Johnny notes an older woman talking to you near the laminate flooring that mimics wood. “Where is he?”
“Over there,” you wave at him, a smug smile on your face.
Boyfriend? Johnny is your fucking husband.
“Sir?” prompts the hardware store associate. “What do you think of these?”
Johnny grunts. “Fine. We’ll come back.” He waves the man off and starts for you even as you continuously refer to him as your boyfriend.
You’re doing it on purpose. You’re doing it to annoy him.
And it’s fucking working.
Johnny saddles up beside you, snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you taut against him.
“This is the boyfriend,” you begin, smiling.
“Husband,” corrects Johnny, flashing the same devious grin. He holds up his left hand, showing off the simple gold band. “Happily married to this one.”
The older woman’s eyes round.
“She likes to joke,” continues Johnny. “Come on, love. Better get home.”
Johnny easily guides you away. He leans down, whispering. “You little terror.”
“Bite me,” you reply.
“Oh. I will. Everywhere. When we get home.”
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