#i don’t even think i addressed your comment all that well
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Painting Faces
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Graves has no choice but to be present on the day Makarov addresses the force, but he keeps to himself while blending in. Makarov doesn’t bother himself with Graves expecting him to stay in line. At least at first.
Then he notices your empty desk. Graves had cleared it of your personal affects, including photos and personal documents.
“We’re missing an officer?” He wonders aloud while Graves files through some reports.
“Officers Graves, you’re missing a partner?” He asks.
“I am perfectly happy being single.” He replies with a good hearted smirk. “The desk is open, we had an officer resign.”
“I see. Very well.” Makarov walks away before Graves can try to make another smart comment. Graves sits up straighter in his chair though.
“That… that is impressive.” Gaz comments as he enters the warehouse seeing the mural you were working on for Los Vaqueros. You look down at him from where you were perched on a railing of a sort of cat walk.
“Thought a cowboy motif would be fitting. Alejandro told me there were good men and women who died here during a raid. Wanted to honour them.” You exclaim. You roll your shoulders and arms hearing a few cracks. By now your bruises were yellow, nearly healed. Your pants are covered in paint, and you old hoodie was warm enough to keep your from freezing in the dropping temperatures. That and Gaz’s very kind delivery of tea. He climbs up to you on the cat walk, and hands you the thermos. Just holding it warms your fingers in your fingerless gloves. He leans against the railing with you admiring your work.
“Figured a mural was the least I owed them. Can’t imagine Soap and Alejandro don’t have some tension going on.” You say, gingerly sipping your tea. Yep you still burned your tongue.
“Speaking of them… Alejandro and Rudolfo have been recovering from a failed raid.” Gaz says. So it begins.
“Makarov.” You say. Gaz nods, shoving a hand in his pocket sipping his own drink. Things were going to be flipped on their head and spun like a top. It would take some time getting used to. Thankfully the 141 was making the transition for you as easy as possible. The nights your father spent with them you were always a part of the conversation. One night there was a promise made to help take care of you if your father couldn’t.
“Ran into Alex at the shop, apparently he found a smaller piece of yours, with I think he said a pillow fight.” Gaz mentions trying to change the subject. You smirked at that knowing the piece he meant. You side eye Gaz who returns it, and you toast your cups. You take a sip and think for a moment.
“Has Soap said anything?” You ask Kyle. The two of you hadn’t really talked since the night you needed safety. Even then it had been brief and awkward.
“It’s how he is.” Gaz says. He’s taken notice of how you two have interacted and Soap talking about you less than he had. “It’s not that he hates you, I think he needs to talk to you. Simple as that.”
“So this is where you’ve been.” A voice came from below and behind them. They both turn to see a face they weren’t expecting.
“Rudolfo. Come on up mate.” Gaz says, offering the bruised man, a hand up. Rudolfo eases himself up through the railings and looks up at your work in progress. He gives a friendly smirk.
“Alejandro will like this for sure.” He says.
“Least I could do after everything. How is he?” You ask, looking up at Rudolfo.
“Nothing can kill Alejandro, except Alejandro.” Rudolfo says. “Unfortunately, nothing can get him to rest either. He’s worried about more drug shipments getting past us when we can be stopping them and destroying them.”
“Sounds like Alejandro.” Gaz says taking another sip of his drink. You stare at your work while taking a sip and think for a bit. The three of you all stand there in silence for a bit. You keep asking yourself, how would dad do it? He could break cases open, getting gangsters like Soap and Gaz to bring the hammers he needed for it. Now Makarov was in the picture too. Which meant needing to hide the hammers right after and hope he would bring glue to repair it.
“Could tell him.” You suggest looking at Gaz. It takes him a minute to realize who you’re referring to. Graves was an insider now. Graves also had to be removed from the case after Makarov returned. Gaz considers it and Rudolfo listens. They were informed about Graves and his involvement as well. It was risky, but if you couldn’t be your father, maybe Graves could step up in a way.
Kyle looks at Rudy. “You know when the next shipments are coming in?”
“We have guesses. So far they’ve been using fishing boats, so they don’t have to claim cargo.”
“They’d need a warrant to start searching.” Kyle adds.
“What if they got one?” You ask. “I mean… who’s to say it’s only one fishing company.”
“We don’t hit innocent.” Kyle points out. “But…you may be on to something.”
“If proof of illegal activity was brought forward to the company itself, investigations would have to start. If Graves is at the forefront…” Rudolfo trailed off.
“Where do we start?” You ask, trying to keep the smug look off your face. You may get to see them in full action.
“We first get Alejandro’s permission. Then we get more information from Laswell. After that we prep for the raid.” Kyle explains.
“I can arrange that. Will have to bring him to see this.” Rudolfo says, gesturing to the mural.
“Wait until it’s done.” You say smiling. “Thinking of adding something a little extra.”
You head back with Gaz to the hideout. He’s teasing you for all the paint you got on yourself.
“At least it’s not on the scarf.” You say stepping inside.
“At least it’s not still wet, you’d have to take your clothes off outside so you don’t track paint.” Kyle teases as you take off your boots. You notice Soap leaning on the fire escape outside. Kyle just gives you a nudge and no words. You take your boots off and carry them to the back door leading out to Soap. You put them back on to join him.
“May I join you?” You ask. He looks back and nods. You step outside and sits on the steps, rubbing yours hands together, trying to warm them.
It’s silent between you two again. There’s just the faint sound of wind and the usual traffic down below.
“Saw Rudolfo today.” You say, squirming on the step.
“How is he?” He asks looking over to you.
“He’s doing better. Still a little rough. Alejandro is getting restless about the shipments though.”
“You don need to worry bout that.” Soap says, facing back to the streets.
“I am worried about it, because it’s what I should be worried about.” You say.
“You don. You’re not a cop anymore.” Soap exclaims. It doesn’t sting as much as it once had.
“…cop or not this is my home now.”
“You have a hom-“ Soap starts but you interrupt him.
“No I don’t. This is my home now.” You say looking up, with him looking at you now. “This city is my home. It was my dad’s home too. If the cops aren’t gonna fight for it, then who else will? I’m not sitting on my ass waiting for an opportunity anymore. You gave me one, I’m not letting it go again.”
Soap looks at you for a while. “What opportunity?”
“When you let me tag on your turf.” You say.
Soap thinks for a minute, and then scoffs. “Stubborn as your old man.” He says.
“Nothing like my old man.” You respond.
“Not at all.” Soap says sarcastically. You smile.
“I really am sorry for lying. Throughout that whole time I was debating whether to even report anything or tell you what I was doing.” You say, rubbing your neck.
“Why didn ya?” He asks, turning and leaning back against the railing. You shrug.
“Felt more at home here.” You admit
“At home? What home?” He asks.
“With you and everyone you introduced me too. Barely known Ghost that long and I feel safer around him than by myself.” You say. Soap smirks at that. Safer around Ghost of all people? That’s a new one.
“I knew you might’ve been a cop. Just hoped ya weren’t.” Soap admits. “Let’s get inside. Gonna snow soon I bet.”
You both go back inside, feeling more relaxed around each other than before. Price steps in the front door just as you two step in from the back. He’d been popping in and out the past week or so never staying for long. This time he was grumbling something.
“Ye aight Price?” Johnny asks.
“My own deliveries are backed up for the bar.” He exclaims. “Graves came by as well to tell me, in person.”
You wonder if Graves did it to maintain cover or to ask Price how you were. You don’t voice it.
“Nikolai can handle it but it’s clear they’re trying to make money difficult. Farah came by, saying a few real estate companies were scoping her neighbourhood. A couple kids threw water balloons at them.”
“I like those kids.” You comment, imagining soaked suits and irritated scowls.
“Alex is on damage control there.” Price says, finally setting his jacket aside. He stepped into the kitchen, stretching and taking a beer from the fridge while you and Johnny join him. You sit up on the bar stool again.
“Makarov is stretching out. He wants more than just us, he wants everyone.” Price states. Johnny leans against the counter arms crossed, Kyle joining at the bar.
“Why now?” Johnny asks. “Could’ve struck b’fore.”
The question is weighty and is left in the air for some time. If your dad was keeping Makarov under control why did he leave?
“Because of me?” You suggest. Johnny, Kyle and Price both look at you. They consider it, but there’s not much to support your answer. “Maybe… he can manipulate the police easier because Graves knows me, and wants me safe. If Graves acts out, Makarov can put me in the crossfire but now I’m not so he thinks it’s easier for him to fuck with the system…maybe?” You try to reason.
“Not entirely out of question.” Kyle mutters.
“Something to consider.” Price says. “We can’t just go at it expecting to find something we don’t know is even there. For now we support where we’re needed, and test waters. Makarov having the police on his side is a problem, but the question is how hard he uses them.”
“Speaking of, we got a tip from Rudolfo. Alejandro may want our help on a drug raid.” Kyle adds. “We need to figure out where the shipments are coming from though. Maybe try to convince Graves to get a warrant.”
Both Johnny and Price went quiet at the mention of Graves again.
“I hate to play devil’s advocate and I know you don’t like it, but Phil is the only one we have directly on the force. We can lead him to where the problems are and book it when he gets close.” You say.
“They’re not wrong.” Kyle agrees.
“Something we will consider.” Price offers. “Right now, we need to focus on finding the exact shipments, and then deciding what to do. It’s Alejandro’s operation, we go through him first.”
Ghost came in and everyone turned to look at him. In his arms is a bundled up hoodie while he shivers in a long sleeved shirt on. You get up quickly, hurrying to take the bundle from him. By now you’d seen Simon with enough animals to know he puts great value in them. Sometimes over himself, hence the hoodie not on his back.
When you take the hoodie you bite your tongue trying not to awe at the tiny, furry, adorable, cute, wittle bundles of claws and teeth in your arms. You stare at them and look up with your eyes at Simon, who is brushing the remains of snow off himself.
“Take em to your room, get a blanket.” He orders. No one else matters but these kittens, which you take to your bedroom without a word.
While you are getting a blanket and a small shoe box for them to stay in, Ghost gets a different hoodie to help him warm up. The mangy black cat, hops on to his shoulder while everyone else just watches.
“Congratulations?” Johnny asks Simon as you come back into the kitchen.
“Keep them from their shitty father.” Simon grumbles. As he leans against the counter the cat hops off his shoulder and on to the counter. “It’ll give the kid something to do when we’re out.”
“I thought I was coming with you guys.” You pipe up.
“We will think about it.” Price says, sounding a bit like a dad.
“I’m not a child.” You grumble.
“If you do come on the raid it won’t be like arresting someone, it’s shoot to kill and keep your eyes open the whole time. No one is walking with side arms, they have uzis and AKs. Some fire wild too.” Kyle reminds you.
“I’ve done a raid before.” You try convincing them.
“You’re stayin.” Johnny says with finality. It’s not out of anger or irritation. It’s meant as words of warning, that this was bigger than what you’d encountered and he didn’t want you in the line of fire. Literally. You drop your head with some swallowed disappointment. You want to help. But you don’t want them worrying about you.
“One condition?” You ask. Johnny shifts his posture to listen.
“Okay two conditions… first one is all four of you have to come back after that raid regardless of what happens, preferably with Alejandro and Rudolfo too.” You stare each one down. Not very intimidating but they’re lenient.
“What’s the second condition?” Ghost asks, their silence an agreement to your first condition. You look directly at Simon.
“I get to name at least one of them.”
Alex steps into his small home, hanging his keys on the hook. As he shuts the door, the kitchen light turns on down the hallway. Very carefully, Alex turns the lock on his door, pulling out his side arm. He stalks toward the kitchen until he hears a familiar voice.
“I needed bandages…”
Alex sighs and holsters his gun before going to a hall closet and getting a small first aid kit.
“If it’s worse than I think, I’ll drag you to hospital.” Alex warns and enters the kitchen, seeing Farah with a few scratches. She’d come to him with worse. Her clothes are still damp too. Alex has to hold a laugh picturing Farah throwing a water balloon at a bunch of realtors.
“You want anything to drink?” He offers setting the kit down. “Was gonna make myself some food and then sleep. Now I have company.”
Farah opens the kit and gets the cotton and alcohol.
“Happy to provide.” Farah says as she starts cleaning. Alex starts making a sandwich for Farah as well. Farah was a good person, defending her home and neighbourhood. Alex was still on the force but with the new chief commissioner he was tempted to resign. Take some security job to pay off bills. Graves had been asking him to stay on though. With the sketchy land deals going on by Milena Romanova, he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
Alex sets a plate down in front of Farah and he sits by with a plate of his own.
“You didn’t have t-“
“I wanted to, now eat.” He says pushing the kit aside. Alex and Farah had an odd relationship. Farah would often drop in like this. Alex had made it a habit to do the same on her every so often.
“I need a favour.” Farah admits after a couple bites.
“Only one?” Alex teases. “Go on.”
“There’s an artist I want to hire.” Farah explains. Alex looks at Farah.
“Need a loan?” He asks.
“No. I need you to look the other way. A small peaceful protest to get the realtors to leave us alone.” Farah explains.
“You have an artist in mind?” Alex asks. Farah gives him a smile that gets covered by an another bite of sandwich.
“This is really good.” Farah says through a mouthful.
“Thanks.” Alex says chuckling.
Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @smitten-haematite-quartz
#john soap mactavish#cod au#task force 141 x reader#simon ghost riley#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#gn reader#phillip graves#vladimir makarov#farah karim#alex keller#cod gangster au#gangster au#rudolfo parra#yep it’s a series now#again how is this still going#i love it
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Idk if you have seen haunting of the hill house but I can't stop thinking of vegaspete in that universe. Like all of the cousins and brothers and like the conflict would be so delicious before finally arriving to love romantic or familial what have you. I just...there is really no horror au or spooky au when it comes to VP.
Like anything mike flanagan would suit them. I can literally see them playing out midnight mass. Vegas in the role of the priest bringing in a entity so that he may get the chance to live a life with Pete!
HI I LOVE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE SO MUCH MORE THAN I HAVE WORDS TO EXPRESS 👁️👄👁️
it’s a masterpiece. so much love was put into every single aspect of it, and it fucking SHOWS in the final product. i could write a novel length essay, but i won’t, because i’m trying to be normal about this. somehow.
the possibilities for the theerapanyakuls’ various traumas manifesting as hauntings are endless and delicious, and imo could really work within canon as well. you mentioned midnight mass too for vegaspete and you’re definitely onto something there, because vegas has his weird religious culty vibe going on already with his naked firehazard mirror sessions. a lot of devil/demon metaphors have made the rounds for him (as well as a highly entertaining demon vegas au by @blackwatervial) and i’m a big sucker for anything that fits the ‘religious & horny’ aesthetic.
i imagine vegas doing what his father demands him to do, and with each killing and round of torture and bad bdsm etiquette scene, his sins and inhumane acts begin to turn him into something inhuman. into a demon of his own making. it’s what he believes he was always meant to be, always was inside. a monster. maybe he also pushes himself to become like this to please his father. maybe his father is always calling him too soft, too human, so vegas strips away his humanity and flays his own soul into scraps to lay at his father’s feet — but it’s still not good enough.
he starts getting delusions (or in his mind he finally sees the truth) about the reason for his failure being the main family, where korn is god and the guards are his angels keeping vegas from the glory he deserves because they’re punishing him for his sins.
i’m remembering the bloodstain pattern on pete’s back during the coup, across his shoulderblades as if seeping from wounds left behind by angel wings having been ripped off. so yeah, maybe to vegas, pete is an angel, and in when he captures pete he strips him of his status, cuts into his halo, burns and then rips off his wings, and finally makes him join vegas in sin. he falls for pete, obviously, finds beauty in the extremely fucked up thing he’s remade pete into, worships pete in his own flawed way — and once he loves pete, the beautiful haze of it drops away. all that’s left is a man, broken beyond repair, all by vegas’ hands. angel or not, vegas destroyed the one good thing he had, the one thing that could have saved him.
(on a non vegaspete sidenote, kim’s whole thing is protecting his family. the way kim’s fear could manifest, is that the moment he starts caring about someone, he can no longer see them as they are but rather as a brutally murdered version of themselves. it’s horrifying to look at, scares him to death, and it makes him push them away,even though the reason they look like this to him is because he loves and cares for them. he sees his brothers like that and one day he starts seeing chay like that too. maybe with chay the blood even drips down onto the floor, audible even when every other sound around them should be loud enough to drown it out. and it’s all part of his motivation to go to the extremes he does to both protect the people he loves and push them away; he’s terrified of them actually becoming the corpses he sees them as.)
🧍♂️ y’know how i said i wasn’t going to write an essay. i guess my final note is that the minor family compound was made for haunting, it’s practically asking for it, especially with its mazelike structure and all of vegas’ trauma weighing down the very air inside.
thank you so much anon for sending me this ask and making my brain go zoom, i had a lot of fun imagining vegas (and kim) getting haunted. 😊💖
(also, anyone who hasnt seen haunting of hill house go watch even if you don't like horror, trust me)
#wow ok#something took over me as i tried to answer this ask#thank you so so much for sending me this ask!!!#i had a lot of fun answering it#and thinking of what my favorite trauma vessels would be haunted by#i didnt even touch pete in this really#maybe that's for the best#wouldn't know where to begin w him#anyways i am not a horror writer#but i am embarrassingly into haunting of hill house#i want to eat that show whole#haunting of hill house#kinnporsche the series#vegaspete#kimchay#not even i saw the kimchay addition coming#text#...this better not have awakened anything in me#i don’t even think i addressed your comment all that well#because rather than putting the characters into a flanagan scenario i just applied a flanagan lense to canon
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𓇻 I’M A FEMINIST, OBVIOUSLY, BUT I WOULDN’T REALLY MIND HIM SAVING ME.
▸ PAIRING.. class president!yang jungwon x outcast!fem!reader
▸ SYNP. jang y/n hated yang jungwon. perfect, loved by everybody, class president yang jungwon. people only liked him because he was a man and he was charismatic. however, when she’s being picked on by the girls at school, yang jungwon comes to her rescue, and weirdly, she didn’t mind it?
▸ GENRE. enemies to lovers (it’s one sided though, yn just hates jw😭) angst, mentions of bullying, mentions of sexism, fluff
author’s note: this is based off of olivia rodrigo’s unreleased song! This was honestly so much fun to write and it took me about 3 days cause I fell violently ILL like the day after I started writing😭 As usual, REBLOGS and COMMENTS are so greatly appreciated <33
Jang Y/N was what people called an outcast. Although she was pretty and had the grades, she heavily disliked half of her class, which in turn, didn’t exactly make her very popular.
“I hate him.” She says as she shoves a spoonful of rice into her mouth. Her only friend was her sister, Wonyoung, who told her that she shouldn’t be so negative all the time.
“Who, Jungwon?” Wonyoung asks, frowning. “Yah Y/N, you can’t hate him forever. He’s nothing but nice to you.”
“I don’t care,” Y/N mumbles angrily, putting away her lunch. “Wonyo, people only like him because he’s a man who can say a few charming words. He smiles and at least half of our class falls onto their knees or something.”
Wonyoung chokes at her sister’s comparison, and can’t help but let out a little laugh. “I’m just saying Y/nie, you can’t just despise him because he seems perfect to the naked eye. In fact, I say become friends with him. It’ll be good for you.”
Y/N shuts down the idea right away, much to Wonyoung’s dismay.
“I am just saying,” Wonyoung stands up, finished with her lunch. “I mean, don’t you find it sad? That you eat lunch everyday with your sister instead of eating with friends or a boyfriend?”
“No,” Y/N says, frowning. “I like eating lunch with you Wonyo.”
“Hm, I guess.”
The Jang sisters lock arms, strolling to their next class. They miss the longing glance that Yang Jungwon sends towards Y/N’s direction, already too far gone into the Decelis Academy hallway.
Unfortunately for Y/N, she had her leadership class with Jungwon, where they would discuss things like student politics and how to better the school so that Decelis could stay at its rightful place of number one on private academy rankings.
It was stupid, Y/N thought, Decelis shouldn’t even be close to number one, this school was filled with a bunch of spoilt children who were obsessed with the idea of money and power.
“Is there a problem, Miss. Jang?” The teacher asks, noticing the little scoffs she was adding each time Jungwon spoke about an initiative he wanted to add.
“No,” Y/N shrugs. “I just think Yang Jungwon’s new initiative is just a waste of time. It's not going to solve anything.”
Jungwon smirks, something that Y/N so desperately wants to wipe the floor with. “Y/N, always the critic of my ideas. Very well, let’s hear your brilliant solution.”
She rolls her eyes. Of course Yang Jungwon wanted to pretend to remain civil, if he had blown up on her, it would’ve tarnish his reputation, and Yang Jungwon would be nothing without his reputation, right?
“Instead of your one-size-fits-all approach method, we need personalized mentorship programs. Each student faces unique challenges, and your initiative doesn't address that.”
Jungwon smiles. “Well I suppose you’re right. But perhaps if you actually joined the initiative, you'd understand its effectiveness.”
Y/N grits her teeth, not enjoying how much Yang Jungwon was enjoying this. “Oh, right, because following the herd blindly is the key to success? Unlike half of Decelis’ population, I prefer independent thinking.”
The boy leans closer in, face almost touching the girl. “Sometimes collaboration is the key to progress, Y/N. Try it sometime.”
The two students make eye contact until Y/N breaks, finally pulling her eyes away.
“As usual, Yang Jungwon always has to be right.” She mumbles under her breath. “God, please save me from being in this class any longer,”
Y/N throws her backpack on the floor as soon as she steps into her house, not caring about the expensive computer her grandmother had bought her last Christmas that was stuffed inside. Her parents were in the kitchen, discussing something in hushed whispers, almost as if it was top secret.
Always being the curious child, she leans onto the wall that separated the living room and kitchen, trying to make out what the topic was about.
“I’m just worried honey,” she can hear her mom say as her dad rubs her back comfortingly. “Y/N doesn’t have a lot of friends at that school, Wonyoung told me about it. You know she only hangs out with her sister and that’s it?”
“I mean, is it really that bad that she only hangs out with Wonyoung? She’s always been quiet, I think we’ve just got to respect that. She’s an excellent student anyway, there’s no harm in having little friends.”
Although her parents truly just wanted the best for her, Y/N felt like a complete loser by how they were going about it.
She quickly rushed to her room, biting her lip in annoyance at how everybody seemed to have an opinion about her life. She was happy with how it was going, and she didn’t care that her only friend was her sister, Wonyoung was a sweetheart and lived with her, it was a built in best friend for life.
“Just you wait,” Y/N huffs, sharpening her pencil. “I’m gonna go to university, leave this place, and I won’t have to hear about any of these kids ever again.”
Y/N woke up the next day with a red eye, probably from crying last night despite telling herself she didn’t care.
She cared, a lot.
Romanticizing being alone was fun until she realized that she was truly all alone, with no friends to lean on.
“Is that Jang Y/N?”
Park Jiwon. The devil herself. She was evil as she was pretty, and she had no problem making Y/N’s life a living hell.
“Where’s Wonyoung? Did your own sister finally get tired of you?” Her little group of minions laugh as if it was the funniest thing ever, and Y/N tries and stops herself from giving them all a swing to the face.
“No, but I’m sure you’re used to that feeling, right Jiwon?”
“Oh you little b—”
“Jiwon, you can’t hit her! You’ll get suspended and it’ll go on your permanent record.” Her friend says, which makes the girl straighten up right away.
“You’re lucky Jang,” the girl snarls. “But yah, what were you thinking? Talking back to Jungwon? He’s so smart and handsome, dedicating his time to make initiatives for the school. You should be more grateful.”
She and her minions get so close that they practically push Y/N back onto the locker, suffocating her with their glares.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” The voice of Jungwon doesn’t go unnoticed by a single girl, who, all but Y/N, straighten up their hair when they realize he’s behind them.
“We’re just talking, right Y/N?” Jiwon says, pinching onto the girl tightly.
“Really? It doesn’t seem like it.” Jungwon rolls his eyes. “Park Jiwon, don’t make me give you detention for picking on other students. It doesn’t make you attractive.”
The girl gasps, immediately letting Y/N go as her face heats up in embarrassment.
“I wasn’t—”
“Just go.” With one point of a finger, Yang Jungwon got Park Jiwon and her minions out of the hallway, leaving Y/N and him alone.
“You okay?” He asks her, eyes concerned.
“Thank you,” she breathes out. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Why didn’t I?” He raises his eyebrows. “You were getting picked on.”
“Well, I’m not the nicest to you.” The girl says, suddenly embarrassed. “At all, actually. So thank you Jungwon, really.”
“Ah,” the boy smiles. “It’s nothing. I don’t hate you if that’s what you think, I think you have a brilliant mind just like me.”
And for the first time since she’s stepped into the school, Jang Y/N finds herself liking Yang Jungwon, and not just for his looks.
“Y/N!” The loud voice of Yang Jungwon doesn’t go by Wonyoung, who gives her sister a smirk as she slightly pushes back her shoulder.
“Wonder why he’s coming,” she teases, which makes Y/N scrunch up her nose in annoyance.
“Would you like to come with me to this new bread place?” He asks, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. “Sorry—I ran all the way from the cabinet office to here.”
“It’s alright,” Y/N giggles, which makes Wonyoung’s eyes pop out of their sockets because she swears she never heard that sound coming from her sister’s mouth before. “I’d love to Jungwon.”
“Great! I’ll uh.. I’ll see you later!”
Wonyoung turns to face Y/N as soon as Jungwon leaves, giving her the biggest grin ever. “What was that?!”
“Let’s just say, I don’t hate Yang Jungwon anymore.” Y/N smiles, laughing as she watches Wonyoung’s jaw practically drop to the ground.
“It’s cold, isn’t it?” Jungwon says as he and Y/N walk to the new bread place.
“Yes,” Y/N puffs out, “I should’ve brought a jacket.”
Before she knew it, Jungwon already takes off his jacket and wraps it around the girl’s shoulder.
“Jungwon,” she whines, “then you’ll be cold!”
“It’s alright really!” He laughs, giving her a big smile. “I’m practically invincible to cold. Was just asking because you seemed to be freezing.”
“You’re sweet,” she says, looking down at her feet. “I feel really guilty for trying to one up up all the time or prove you wrong. I just hate it, you know?”
“Hate what?”
“You might not realize it but a lot of people don’t want to hear what I say because I’m a woman, and that’s it. Just because I’m a woman. Like sometimes, I have ideas just as brilliant and changing as yours, but everybody says I’m complaining and over analyzing. When you say it, with your handsome face and clear voice, everybody’s suddenly entranced, and they’re so interested in school politics.”
“So you think I’m handsome?”
Y/N rolls her eyes, pushing back Jungwon slightly as he laughs.
“I’m kidding, Y/N. I know what you mean now. I’m sorry that I can’t change how people view and perceive things, but I want you to know that I listen to your ideas, that I care. You might not realize this either but whenever you’re talking, I always listen. Like your initiative about bringing better programs into the school, I listened through the whole thing because I just—I’m inlove with the way you articulate things and the way you speak. If I was half as good at speaking my mind like you were, I’d be unstoppable. You’re a great person, Y/N, and I’m so glad I’m able to see that.”
The way Yang Jungwon speaks about her makes Y/N want to cry and smother him in a hug, which she does a second later by bringing him into a bone crushing hug.
“Thank you Jungwon.” She says, face in his neck. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He feels like he’s out of breath by how close the two of them were, his heartbeat racing by each second that passed. “I’d do anything for you, Y/N.”
“Hey!” Y/N is practically used to seeing Yang Jungwon come up to her everyday now, the two even spending lunch together every two days.
“What’s up Yang?” She says, noticing a packet of papers in his hand.
“You know your feedback on my initiative? Your personalized mentorship program idea! The headmaster really liked it and he’s implementing it starting next semester with your name as the credit on it!”
Y/N’s eyes widen in joy, shrieking as her hands unconsciously come in contact with Jungwon’s, the two holding both of each other’s hands tightly as they jumped in happiness.
“You’re amazing Yang Jungwon!” She says giddily, “you really are.”
The two of them stop to stare at one another for a brief second before Jungwon finds himself leaning in, closing the gap between their lips.
When they pull away, the smiles on their faces never fades, Jungwon’s dimple ever so prominent.
“I love you,” Y/N breathes out. “My wonderful class president.”
And although Y/N is a feminist, obviously, she wouldn’t mind a man like Yang Jungwon saving her, for he taught her what love was like, and that she should never ever settle for less.
#enhypen x reader#enhypen texts#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen imagines#enhypen#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x you#enhypen x gender neutral reader#enhypen fic#enhypen fluff#enhypen angst#enhypen au#jungwon#enhypen jungwon#jungwon x reader#jungwon x you#jungwon x y/n#jungwon imagines#jungwon fluff#jungwon angst#jungwon fanfic
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All to myself - Prof!Tom Riddle (smut)
Prof and priest fics are without doubt my faves. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Another student tries to touch the reader, so Professor Riddle has to remind his TA that she is his, only his. Pwp
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral(m), power play, profxta
Pairing: Prof!Tom Riddle x fem!TA!reader (1.8k words)
She felt his eyes on her, watching her every move as if he was worried about her doing something wrong, messing up his classroom. No matter what she did or touched, his eyes followed her around like a shadow. A shadow sewn to his boots, unable to escape her boss, the one whose every command she blindly followed.
“I’ll expect your papers on my desk Friday afternoon, I won’t accept any tardiness.” Professor Riddle’s voice filled the room, instantly shutting up his chatting students. All eyes were drawn to his piercing ones, staring at the tall professor who acted like their god, the deity they’d have to worship. “If you have any further questions, find (y/n), she can help you.”
(Y/n)’s eyes snapped towards the professor, hands freezing midair. Not once had he addressed her like that in class and told his students that she could help them out, hidden in the dark corners of the room as if he was scared to share her with them. She couldn’t stop the heat from flushing through her, eyes forced back down to the book she had been combing through, highlighting the pages he had asked her to prepare.
“I’ll see you next week.” With his last words echoing through the room, the students quickly rose to their feet, set on disappearing from the room and the professor they all feared. He watched them scurry out of the room, lips pulled into an almost satisfied smirk.
“Did you find the pages, (y/n)?” He leaned against the desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, no longer caring about the handful of students who were still packing their things. She could only nod, unable to meet his eyes, not when she was reminded of the way he had touched her not even twelve hours ago, once again finding comfort in one another’s touch.
Well, perhaps it wasn’t about comfort for him, perhaps it was all about claiming her, about owning the young woman who had joined his class as a student last year and was now working for him as his teaching assistant. A power hierarchy she had always feared, not daring to overstep, at least not till he had made the first move, not giving her a way out.
“Good, come to my office tonight so we can prepare for next week’s class.”
……
“Thank you so much for your help, (y/n).” A tight smile played on her lips, trying to keep her distance from the student who had found her a few minutes ago. She had been on her way to Professor Riddle’s office, carrying the books of his she had borrowed when the guy had forced her to a halt. He had instantly dropped his questions on her, smirking at the already annoyed woman.
“Of course, now, if you excuse me, I need to find Professor Riddle.” She wanted to turn from him, wanting to disappear from the student who made her feel all too uncomfortable. But his hand darted out, fingers wrapped around her wrist to keep her close. Her breath hitched in her chest at the unwanted touch, eyes flickering from her wrist to his dark pupils.
“Why the hurry, (y/n)? I think he can wait a few more minutes for you. Don’t you find it weird how he treats you? As if you’re some toy he owns.” Her throat felt tight, mouth too dry to reply, wanting to rip herself from the man’s grasp, though without any luck. The grasp he had on her wrist only got tighter, sure to leave marks she’d have to cover for the next days.
“Let me go, please.” The student’s laugh was drowned out by the sound of fast-approaching steps, making a shadow appear behind (y/n)’s frame. Instantly the student let go of (y/n), trying to flee from the scene as Professor Riddle stared him down. Within seconds the professor had the guy pressed against the nearest wall, forcing a gasp from (y/n).
“If I ever catch you touching (y/n), even looking at her, I will end you. Do you hear me, Mister Kerry?” No reply left the student, unable to speak up, only able to quickly nod his head. The second the man let go of him, he fled from the scene, leaving (y/n) and the professor behind.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, with Professor Riddle turning towards (y/n), eyes focused on her already bruised wrist. With wide eyes she watched him carefully reach for her hand, momentarily studying her skin before he began to pull her down the hallway, straight to his office. Her heart was pounding, racing against her ribcage to try and warn the oblivious woman of the danger lying ahead. But there was no escaping, she was tied to him like a boat tied to the dock, rocking with the waves though kept in place by the tight rope.
“How did you find me?” (Y/n)’s whispers filled his barely alight office, drawing a dangerous chuckle from the man, a sound so strong (y/n)’s body kept trembling, littered with goosebumps.
“It’s not typical for you to be late, and I seem to find you no matter where you are. I don’t share what is mine, and especially not you.” His voice dripped with possessiveness, hand cupping her warm cheek before his lips crashed against hers, leaving the woman moaning. Within a few moments (y/n) was forced against his desk, caged between the expensive wooden craft and his tall frame. “You’re mine, mine alone, never forget that, pet.”
“I won’t. I am sorry.” She wasn’t sure what she was apologising for, and yet it only felt right to do so. The words seemed to please the professor, studying her for another second or two before an almost teasing “Prove how sorry you are” left him. Without protesting, (y/n) dropped to her knees, glassy eyes staring up at the tall man, watching him free his already hard cock with skilled movements.
(Y/n) parted her lips like she had done numerous times before, in this very position, for the brooding man only. He forced his cock into her mouth without another warning, finding enjoyment in her gasps, the surprise filling her eyes, the trembling of her hand. She was his pet, the one he had claimed the first time she had stepped into his office, forever his.
“Atta, girl, such a perfect mouth.” Her hum left him groaning, ringed hand finding her hair as his head momentarily rolled back. Professor Riddle’s eyes fluttered close, enjoying the fast bobbing motion, the way her tongue took care of his ache just like he needed her to. If there was one thing (y/n) found pride in, it was satisfying the tall man, drawing these sounds from his mouth – sounds she’d think of whenever her thoughts started to wander.
“C’mon, you can take a bit more, don’t hold back, pet.” (Y/n) struggled to take more, and yet she was set on following whatever he asked of her, trying to loosen her jaw. One tear after another spilt from her eyes, dripping down onto his expensive carpet, leaving yet another stain he’d never wipe away. She wasn’t used to hearing his praises, and yet whenever he did praise her, (y/n) hoped that her mind would never forget about these moments, cherishing every sound he made.
She felt his cock twitch in her mouth, staring up at the moaning man as her hands added more speed to their movements, pumping the parts her mouth couldn’t reach. If there was one thing she was set on, it was tasting his release, wanting him to leave his stain on her tongue before he fucked her, a wish the man wouldn’t fulfill today. He pulled away before he could give in, letting go of her hair, only to pull (y/n) to her feet. The professor manhandled her onto his table, front pushed against the cold wood as his hands pulled her trousers and panties down her legs.
“Such a messy whore for your professor, look at the way you’re dripping.” His dark chuckles left (y/n) impatiently moaning, hands clinging to the edge of the table, already preparing for the first of many ferocious thrusts. She heard him spit into his hand, once again lubing his cock up before he pushed into her from behind, drawing a moan from the both of them.
He fucked her hard, fast, not caring about her need to adjust, or the pained whimpers leaving her. No, this was a lesson, a lesson crafted for her only, reminding the young woman that she was his, his only. No other man would ever manage to fuck her like this. No other man would ever manage to draw these sounds from her parted lips.
His toy, his pet, his woman.
Curses left her whenever his cock managed to nudge the spot that left her seeing stars, squeezing her eyes shut to try and focus on the intimate moment, the need to feel his cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust, the ache he left behind between her legs. This wasn’t about taking their time, about cherishing one another’s closeness, this was solemnly to scratch that inch inside of them, fuelled by their possessiveness.
“Please, oh please, professor.” A hum left the man, forcing one arm around her waist to rub her pulsing bundle, driving her closer and closer to the edge. “Please let me cum, oh god, please.”
“Cum for me, pet. Let them hear who is fucking you, who is the only one allowed to touch you.” His name rolled off (y/n)’s tongue as she came, trying to prolong the moment for as long as possible. The professor kept snapping his hips, forcing his cock deeper and deeper, wanting to leave his stain on her walls, set on imprinting himself on her cunt. His dark, raspy moans left her gasping, feeling his hand tighten its grip on her flesh as he came inside of her, giving room to one last groan.
“You’re mine to touch, mine only, don’t you ever forget that, (y/n).”
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SPIDER-BOY
Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader
Summary - Thinking he has no chance with y/n as himself, Peter begins approaching them as Spider-Man.
friendly reminder - the best way to support writers on Tumblr is to reblog their work or comment <3:)
// masterlist // send me your thoughts //
Two months.
That was how long it had been since Peter first indulged in his ridiculous idea of talking to you under the guise of Spider-Man. Of course he hadn’t meant for it to last this long, promising himself that it was just to help him build his confidence–maybe even learn a bit about what kind of things you liked–so that he could actually ask you out as himself. Unfortunately, though, things hadn’t gone quite as he had planned.
Spider-Man offered him a type of courage that he just wasn’t able to muster as Peter Parker. Under the cover of his mask he was able to come across as easy-going and flirtatious, never failing to leave your cheeks a deep crimson from the playful banter. Yet, when he did manage to speak to you as plain ole’ Peter, all of that was suddenly lost on him, leaving him a complete and total bumbling mess. As far as he was concerned, Peter Parker had no chance to be what any girl wanted, especially you. But Spider-Man was a different story.
And so he continued to exploit Spider-Man, using the masked hero as a means to continue getting closer to you, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his secret identity forever. To be fair, he would rationalize to himself, Spider-Man had taken a lot from him, it was only fair that he got something in return.
Plus, the interactions had been mostly innocent. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself, opting to ignore the many times that coy attitudes began to border on actual sexual attraction. He tried not to think about those times (though there had been many nights where he purposely let those interactions slip into his mind, reliving them from the privacy of his bedroom), instead just promising himself that he wouldn’t let his romantic escapades as Spidey go too far.
“So,” your voice filled his ears, his heart skipping a few beats at the sound, “at what point should I start to wonder if you’re stalking me?”
Peter chuckled at the question, his fingers gripping the railing of the balcony to your apartment, effortlessly hanging from it. “Do you feel like I’m stalking you?”
“Hm,” you placed a finger against your chin, pretending to be deep in thought, evoking even more laughter from the boy. “Maybe a bit.”
“Oh yeah? What did I do to give that impression?”
“Well, to be fair, you’re currently dangling a couple hundred feet in the air off the side of my balcony.” You told him matter-of-factly, gesturing to where he was still hanging from the railing.
His brows furrowed beneath his mask, an expression that was barely noticeable due to the fabric covering his face. “And that makes me a stalker? I thought you’d find it romantic, a sort of Romeo-and-Juliet moment.”
“Romeo threw pebbles at her window, he didn’t scale an entire apartment building dressed in spandex.” You reminded him, “But, actually, it’s more so that I don’t remember ever giving you my address.”
Peter froze for a moment, having not thought about the fact that your previous run-ins with Spider-Man had always been in public spaces–catching you after work or just happening to bump into you on the street while patrolling–never at your home. He only knew where you lived because you had told him, but as Peter Parker, not Spider-Man, when the two of you were assigned to a project together last week. He mentally face-palmed at his own ignorance.
“Superheroes keep up with where all the pretty girls live. One of the lesser-known parts of the job.” He quipped, hoping that flattery would keep you from thinking too much into it. You only rolled your eyes at the comment, luckily not pressing any further.
“So what did I do to deserve a surprise Spidey visit this time?” You hummed, leaning back against the cold brick of your apartment building.
Peter hoisted himself over the edge of the balcony so that he was standing across from you, his arms finally beginning to ache from holding up his bodyweight for so long. “What, I’ve gotta have a reason to stop by and see my favorite civilian?”
“Civilian?” You snorted. “And here I was thinking you and I were friends.”
He dramatically placed his hands on either side of his face, feigning shock at your words, “Oh God no! You and me? Friends?” he let his hands fall to his waist, an exaggerated breath leaving his mouth, “No, not at all. I think that would be a conflict of interest.”
You cocked a brow at him, “How so?”
“I mean–I just think it would really interfere with our whole superhero slash damsel-in-distress routine, ya know?”
“Damsel-in-distress?” You gasped incredulously at the claim, though the corners of your mouth were still quirked up in a smile.
Peter nodded, “Uh, yeah. That’s literally our whole thing, isn’t it? You constantly running into trouble, me swinging in and saving your life.”
“You haven’t had to save my life once Spider-Boy.” Peter scoffed at the name, acting like he was insulted.
“Oh c’mon!” Peter dragged the word out, practically whining as he took a fraction of a step towards you, the movement enough to leave only a few inches between the both of you due to how small the balcony was. “You are literally always getting yourself into danger.”
“Okay,” You crossed your arms over your chest, craning your neck so that you could actually look up at him, the masked vigilante having several inches on you, “give me an example then.”
Peter rolled his eyes, a gesture only evident by the dramatic way his head moved along with them. He reached a gloved hand to your face, letting his fingertip gently brush against the semi-healed cut along your forehead. “You literally got this by tripping over your own shoes and banging your head against the counter at a coffee shop. Not to mention the fact that you spilled your entire coffee on yourself in the process.” He trailed away from the cut, moving to brush a stray hair behind your ear. He didn’t take his hand away, though, letting it rest against the side of your face. “You are always in danger because you are the danger.”
Your eyes widened for a moment, so quick that he didn’t even notice the reaction. He was right, you had done that, an unfortunate consequence of being the clumsiest person alive. But, still, his words left you confused; remaining silent for just a moment as you turned them over in your head. When you finally opened your mouth to speak you were cut off by the sound of distant sirens, a groan immediately coming from him, knowing that your interaction would now be cut short.
His thumb brushed against your cheek, acting as an unnecessary silent apology.
“Sounds like somebody needs Spider-Man.” You told him as he let his hand fall from your skin, forcing himself to the railing. If he didn’t go now, he wouldn’t leave at all. “You better hurry, it could be one of those pretty girls you keep tabs on.” You shot a teasing grin in his direction, referencing his earlier comment.
“Ugh, they just never give me a day off.” He joked, swinging his feet over the balcony railing before gripping onto it and allowing himself to once again hang from it. “Try not to trip into anything dangerous until I’m back.”
He turned his head and reached one hand out, likely to shoot a web at the building across from yours, but hesitated when he heard you speak again, a sudden panic filling his body at your words, “Be safe, Parker.”
The sirens continued blaring, growing closer with each second, but all he could hear was the sound of his own heart wildly thumping against his chest. “What?” He sounded completely dumbfounded, his head slowly turning back to look at you, only to find you standing with your own finger pointing to the cut he had traced on your forehead, a wide grin on your face.
“Spider-Man wasn’t there the day that I fell.” You shot a knowing glance in his direction, one that had his cheeks heating up. He had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask, aware that his face was likely beet red. “I asked Peter to meet me there so I could borrow his biology notes.”
Peter didn’t speak, too stunned by his own stupidity for slipping up and not thinking about how he was there that day as himself, not Spider-Man. This time you were the one to take a step forward and close the gap between you, having to lean down just a bit in order to be face-to-face as he dangled from the railing.
“You’re a lot more confident in the suit.” You mused, your hands finding the base of his mask, lightly tugging the material up to reveal his face. Even though it was dark out you could still see that he was blushing. “But I prefer you without it.”
His jaw fell slack, words getting caught in his throat as a million thoughts raced through his mind, though one thought in particular was a lot louder than the rest: I prefer you without it.
“You should definitely go.” The sirens were now close enough that you could actually see the faint red-and-blue lights a few streets over. He looked in the direction of them but still didn’t make a single move to leave. You seemed to recognize his hesitation, tugging the mask back down over his face. “If you ever remember how to talk then you can come back when you’re done. But ditch the mask.”
Peter nodded at your words, his eyes remaining glued to you as you straightened back up, turning your back to him to go back inside your apartment–leaving him to go off and be a hero. Once you were inside he couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he forced himself to get into motion, swinging in the direction of the police lights.
Turns out Peter Parker did have a chance.
#peter parker imagine#peter parker blurb#peter parker headcanons#tasm peter parker imagine#tasm peter x reader#andrew!peter fanfiction#peter parker fluff#andrew!peter fluff#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#spiderman imagine#spiderman fanfiction#tasm fanfiction#tasm fic#spiderman fic#mcu imagine#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfiction
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rumours, part two.
part one.
jude bellingham x influencer!reader.
fc: nailea devora.
_
groupchat: it girls 💕
larray:
ain’t no way you’re dating jude fucking bellingham and haven’t told us
y/n:
larry istg i’ll cut your hair in your sleep if you keep believing those DUMB rumours
oliviarodrigo:
girl
he’s hot asf why don’t you shoot your shot?
y/n:
with a footballer?
hell fucking no
these guys don’t know what being faithful to one person means
and i’ve heard plenty of shit about this jude guy
larray:
yeah me too tbh
y/n:
i’m not getting involved with him, period.
larray:
okay but what about his teammates?
y/n:
larry.
larray:
DO IT FOR ME
_
liked by judebellingham, yourbestie, larray and 789 928 others.
y/n: girls night 🥂
_
fan1: JUDE LIKED???
fan2: is she lying to us?? bc why would he like her posts now?
fan3: I JUST CHECKED AND HE’S FOLLOWING HER NOW TOO
fan4: maybe she lied to protect their privacy?? that would make sense tbh
fan5: you look so good 😍
fan6: she’s such a baddie omg, jude i get it now
fan7: didn’t know who she was before the whole jude drama but omg i love her
fan8: LEAVE JUDE ALONE YOU FREAK
fan9: petition for jude’s groupies to leave y/n alone
fan10: MOTHER
fan11: y/n please do another grwm i’m obsessed with your videos
fan12: how to be like her, she’s hot asf and has THEE jude bellingham at her feet
view all comments.
_
insta dms:
y/n:
wtf is wrong with you?
i told you to tell your fangirls to leave me alone and what are you doing? you LIKE my posts and you follow me now?
leave me alone, jude.
judebellingham:
you looked good
you always look good*
are you free, tomorrow night?
y/n:
can’t you READ?
LEAVE. ME. ALONEEEEE.
or i’m pressing charges on you hoe.
judebellingham:
so it’s a yes?
i’ll send you the tickets and my jersey, someone will come pick you up, what’s your address?
y/n:
wtf
what do you mean?
judebellingham:
we’re playing against sevilla and i want you to come
y/n:
we don’t even know each other tf??
is that how you get all those girls to get obsessed with you?
that ain’t gonna work with me, boy.
judebellingham:
hm, i like you already.
y/n:
well, i hate you.
judebellingham:
haha
turns me on, love it.
y/n:
i am BLOCKING you
_
i hate him. i fucking hate him. who does he think he is? making me come see him to his stupid game, what am i, his mother? seriously i could’ve stayed at home, binge-watching the twilight movies like i do every year. now i have to go to his fucking football game, it’s going to be so nosy, damn it. and before you ask me, YES i am getting ready and i am wearing his jersey. not because i want to, but i know that i won’t hear the end of it if i don’t do it. yeah, i’m doing it because he’s forcing me, no other reason.
like jude said, someone did pick me up to take me to the bernabeu stadium, and i can’t believe i’m doing this. the venue is full of fans wearing either their real madrid jerseys or their sevilla jerseys. i can see men, women, kids, elderly people, they’re all here to have fun and support their favourite team and i have to admit that it’s a cute sight. let’s just hope that they don’t kill each other’s at the end of the match. i’m quickly escorted to the vip section, where friends, family and important people would seat for the game.
"oh my god, is that y/n?" a voice called from behind, i closed my eyes shut, fuck, and walked faster, i should’ve wore a mask to hide my face. if anyone picture me in this stadium with that motherfucker’s jersey on, it would end my career and i’m half exaggerating.
thank god, the vip section was secluded from the other people. the game started and i had to admit that it was fun to watch when you weren’t really supporting anyone. no stress, just having fun watching men run after a ball, just like dogs. jude was actually good, i never looked him up on the internet to watch his performances, i just knew he was the internet’s favourite whore and girls were thirsting over him. he was good looking, of course, no one could deny that, but more than anything he was annoying as fuck. i surprised myself, cheering for him when he scored a goal, what was wrong with me.
real madrid was actually leading the game with two goals against one. jude’s teammate passed the ball to him and he scored his third goal of the match. okay now, why did this motherfucker just point at the crowd, more specifically towards me? people turned around to see where he was pointing at, but thankfully they couldn’t see me. my heart definitely sank when he did that though, seriously what is wrong with this guy! it was a cute gesture, yes, but we weren’t dating and i promised myself to never date an athlete, tried it once and promised to never doing it again. jude was everything i hated in a man, he was reckless, cocky, full of himself and he knew he was hot. nothing worse than a guy who knows he’s handsome.
_
"how was i?" he asked, this big smile plastered on his face, i wish i could tear it off his face. "fine, i guess." jude made a weird face and put his hands on his hips. "fine? y/n, i was more than fine and you know it, scored three goals and they were all for you." he blew me a kiss and i swore i was about to knock him out. "yeah about that, someone could’ve seen me!" i said, slapping his arm, making him laugh. "darling, that’s what i wanted." okay, the way he was looking at me may or may have not made my heart skip a beat. "jude, i’m starting to believe that the fans gaslighted you into thinking we’re already dating." he laughed, making my cheeks heat up just a bit. "i just want to give the fans what they want to see." he shrugged and put his arm around my shoulders to start walking out of the changing room. i imediatly pushed his arm away and speed walked in front of him to hide my red cheeks. of course, the bitch was laughing at me, running to catch me and poking my cheeks to mock me. "aww, you’re blushing? i thought you hated me, darling." i put my hands on my cheek. "fuck you! it’s just hot in here!" "it’s literally minus two degrees, y/n."
_
liked by judebellingham, jobebellingham, oliviarodrigo and 890 918 others.
y/n: maybe football isn’t so bad 🙄
_
judebellingham: like the view? 👀
y/n: shut up.
fan1: SHE POSTED JUDE???
fan2: Y/N DID YOU LIE TO US???
y/n: WE’RE JUST FRIENDS GUYS OMG
judebellingham: for now* 🫢
y/n: jude istg…
fan3: OMGBSJSOSLSLMDMSLZ WTF
fan4: i am literally shitting bricks what the FUCK
fan5: i love the banter lmao they’re fun
fan6: i ship it tbh
fan7: y/n being a wag for 2024 omg
fan8: i love how she’s fighting it but we all know how it’s going to end
fan9: Y/N NOOOOOO NOT A FOOTBALLER
oliviarodrigo: well, well, well 👀
y/n: please not you too
larray: will you look at THAT
y/n: LARRY SHUT UP IM BEGGING
fan10: lmaoo even her friends are ratting her out
fan11: #savey/n
view all comments.
_
insta dms:
y/n:
ARE YOU KIDDING ME
DID YOU REALLY DM POP BASE TO TALK ABOUT US???
judebellingham:
mmh, i don’t know what you’re talking about
y/n:
jude bellingham.
judebellingham:
okay maybe i did
BUT I DIDN’T KNOW THEY’D RAT ME OUT LIKE THAT
y/n:
FOR FUCK’S SAKE
judebellingham:
anyways it’s not a big deal tbh
are you free tonight?
y/n:
no.
judebellingham:
nice, i’ll come pick you up at 9 <3
y/n:
are you BLIND?
i said no bitch
judebellingham:
suddenly i can’t read.
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liked by judebellingham, larray, sabrinacarpenter and 901 927 others.
y/n: get you a man who eats his spaghettis with his hands 😍
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judebellingham: i wonder who is this gentleman 🫢
y/n: yeah i wonder too 🙄
fan1: pls not jude carrying y/n’s purse
fan2: they’re so cute stop
fan3: my favourite couple
fan4: PARENTS
fan5: lmao i bet jude is the one who begged her to be his gf
y/n: yes.
fan6: JAISOSPXLD’´S
view all comments.
#football x reader#football masterlist#football au#football#jude bellingham x oc#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham fic#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham#bellingham#jude bellingham fluff#fluff
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Rouge
Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader
Synopsis: Chris wants his makeup done for fun by Y/N. However things don’t go to plan, and some events take place….💜 requested by @mammon-lovesjade1
Warnings⚠️: This is smut…just two best friends fucking….you know the norm😁
Song for the imagine: Coming Down-The Weeknd
⚠️This is an 18+ imagine so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️
The party’s finished and I want you to know
(I’m all alone)
I’m feelin everything before I got up
I always want you when I’m
(Coming down)
The one thing I loved the most more than filming content or hanging with my friends was doing my makeup. It was so relaxing, and made me feel so pretty. My whole channel and TikTok was based on get ready with me’s and makeup tutorials
I had just finished filming TikTok’s with some new makeup I got when I saw Chris commented on one of my videos. “Ouuu me next please” it read. I replied back to him to tell him I was down.
Chris came over fully ready to get glammed up, and I found it adorable. He was really my best friend. He let me try new hair products on him, new nail products, skin care products. I mean just about anything, so him wanting his makeup done made me excited.
I think he truly enjoyed physical touch as a form of an affirmation of one’s love for him, but he’d never admit that. He was sitting on my vanity chair as I was hunched over trying to do his makeup
“Ouch you keep poking me in the eye with that damn thing” he said flinching
“I’m sorry, I’m hunched over” I said laughing and covering my mouth
“Want me to stand up?” He asked me
“No because then you’ll be too tall” I said back
“Oh so then sit on my lap” he said nonchalantly
This made my throat run dry. I mean I wasn’t sure that I had a crush on Chris, but I found him super attractive. We were only friends so this request seemed a bit too intimate for my liking.
“No it’s fine” I said looking for a makeup brush
“I don’t want your back hurting or to keep getting poked in the eye so sit” he said looking at me
“Alright whatever” I said and sat on his lap
Chris didn’t touch me, or make me feel uncomfortable. However my thoughts were running wild. Our groin areas are so close to one another. Had I slid up more my pussy would be directly over his dick, and this sent a shiver up my spine.
Chris and I continued to talk and laugh as I did his makeup. Subconsciously I kept scooting up on his lap not even realizing what I was doing. I went to draw on his lip with a lip liner when he jumped causing me to jump as well and land on his dick again
“Fuck” he said bringing his finger to his lip
“I’m sorry, what did I do?” I said giggling
“That pencil gave me a splinter or some shit, ow” he said laughing
I looked down at the pencil and saw it needed to be sharpened
“Oh my god I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize it needed to be sharpened” I said laughing again
“That shit scratched the fuck out of me” he said touching his lip again
“Let me see it” I said
He moved his hand away and I leaned in closer to see his lip. There was the tiniest little scratch but nothing to draw blood
“It’s nothing you’re okay just a scratch” I said rubbing his top lip with my thumb, not realizing how seductive this move was
“How about gloss instead?” He said laughing
“Ouu okay” I said leaning over to grab a gloss, and it was only then did I feel a sudden hard bulge on my inner left thigh.
I swallowed thickly as I froze. My eyes went wide. Does he really have a boner? Or am I going crazy, I thought to myself. Do I address it or not?? I decided to ignore it grabbing the lip gloss and turning to him
Chris’ eyes looked different almost like his pupils were dilated and they had a glossy cast over them. Y/N get it together please!
I applied the clear gloss to his lips
“Okay perfect your lips look great” I said closing the bottle and putting it back
“Do they?” He asked me in a gruff tone
“They do” I said looking down at his lips
“Just kiss me then you’re begging for it” he said jokingly
“Chris you literally have a hard on right now shut up” I said rolling my eyes
His eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed red
“Shut up I thought you didn’t notice” he said looking away and laughing
“Mmm it’s pretty hard not to notice it, I’m sitting right on it” I said looking down
“I’m sorry, just the moving around and the touching it got me going” he said
“It’s okay….maybe I like it” I said licking my lips
“Oh?” He questions cocking his head to the side
I looked him up and down before crashing our lips together. Chris immediately kissing back as his right hand came up to cheek pulling me in closer.
I subconsciously started to grind down on him as his lips moved from my mouth to my neck leaving wet open mouthed kisses. Chris slid his hands up my shirt wrapping his hands around my torso and pulling me down to grind harder
“Shit Chris” I moaned out at the friction
“Can’t you see what you do to me” he said against my skin as his eyes traveled up to look at me
“I didn’t know I had a such an affect on you” I said biting my lip as he left kisses on my collarbones
“Big time baby, big time” he said running his hands down to my ass and squeezing
Chris pulled away, and I immediately pulled my shirt off and my bra. His eyes darted down to my breast as he cupped them in his hands, kneading and toying with them.
“Fuck” I moaned out licking my now dry lips
Chris brought his mouth to the valley of my breast kissing and licking before taking my right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue, and moaning against me. I could feel how wet I had become from this action alone causing me to grind down onto Chris harder
“Take your shirt off” I said in a hushed tone
Chris pulled away and removed his shirt, I immediately leaned forward and left wet opened mouth kisses along his neck and upper chest. His head leaned back as his grip on my ass strengthened
“Mama I need more” Chris croaked out, this immediately making my heart pound and my pupils dilate. “Mama”?? Fuck this was so hot
I slid off of Chris and slipped my pants off leaving myself in my underwear as I got back on his lap. Pushing my very wet cunt against his dick
“So wet for me” he moaned out looking into my eyes
“Always baby” I said grinding down on him
Feeling his dick so vividly through his thin sweatpants and thin boxers. My underwear were soaked, and I’m sure it left a mark….
Chris attached his mouth to my left nipple as I slowly grinded against him. I swear I was about to cum from this alone.
“I’m going to cum from this alone” I panted out
He released me with a smile spread across his face.
“Get up” he said tapping my thigh
I lifted off of Chris and he slid his pants down along with his underwear. His dick springing up, and my jaw dropping. Fuck he was hung….ive been missing out on this??
He started to stroke his dick while looking at me
“I’m ready when you are” he said
Part of me couldn’t take him serious because he had makeup on and was about to fuck me, but the other part couldn’t take my eyes off his dick, and how badly I needed it
I slid my panties off and walked back over to him, lining myself up with his dick, and slowly sinking down. I had never rode a guy sitting in a chair, but this new feeling felt amazing
His dick curved perfectly enough to push against my g spot, and my clit was hitting his pubic bone perfectly….god this needs to be a position I constantly do
Chris helped me bounce up and down on his dick as we both let out shaky moans. Why am I fucking my bestfriend, and how did this happen so fast, and why don’t I want it to end???
“Fuck Chris just like that” I moaned against his lips
He was gripping my hips and grinding me against him, his dick hitting all the right places.
“Come on mama” he cooed in a raspy voice
My stomach tightened at the pet name again. My mouth falling slack as my brows furrowed
All thought could be heard was our breathing, our skin smacking and the chair scratching against the floor slightly
I began to bounce on Chris dick as he massaged my breast. My body shuddered as I continued to ride him
“Oh fuckkk” I whined out gripping onto his shoulders harder
“You got this, come on” he said biting his lip
I started to get close to my orgasm, so I began to grind against him. My clit hitting his pubic bone in all the right places. His dick kissing my G spot and I swore I was seeing stars.
“I’m going to cum” I moaned out my breathing becoming heavier
“Okay baby, come on” he said looking at my face up and down, taking his bottom lip into his teeth and helping me grind down harder
My upper body shuddered as I clenched around him. Falling into his chest as I came all over his dick. His name spilling from my lips like a chorus as I ran my fingers into his hair pulling at the roots. My thighs and legs shaking as my vision went blank and my hearing went dull. This was the best orgasm I’ve ever had, and it was on Chris’ dick…
Taking shaky breaths as I came down from my high I leaned back looking at Chris with fucked out eyes. I slowly slid off of him and got down on my knees
“What are you doing baby?” He asked
“I want you to cum for me” I said looking up at him
Chris eyebrows raised and he swallowed thickly.
“Okay…yeah” he said biting his lip
He began to stroke his dick and moaning out my name as his jaw fell slack. His lower abdomen began to contract and his thighs got a bit shaky
He stroked harder, and soon his brows furrowed and he looked me in my eyes.
“I’m gonna cum” he said
I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out, Chris’ eyes lighting up.
Suddenly he came, painting my tongue with his seed as my name fell from his mouth like a mantra.
I swallowed as he leaned back, his breathing becoming shallow as he tried to catch his breath.
“I can’t believe I fucked my best friend” I said getting up and walking over to him running my hands through his hair
“I can’t believe you fucked me while I had makeup on” he said laughing
“I mean hey it didn’t even smudge, look at that my waterproof makeup routine is now sex proof” I said laughing
“Glad we tested it out” he said winning at me
I rolled my eyes as a blush crept up on my neck. I pulled Chris up by his hand
“Let’s shower” I said
He wrapped his hands around my waist as we walked to the bathroom, kissing me on my neck as we waddled
I think I liked this. Fucking my best friend, not dating but also knowing we wouldn’t fuck anyone else. It felt right to me….Chris was going to be the death of me…
The End
ALRIGHTTTT I hope you enjoyed this one🤭. I love yall sooo much, and I’m less than 50 people away from 1,000 followers. When I tell you this is fucking insane. I’m so grateful for all of yall. Love yall dearly🤭🖤🖤
-J💅🏽
#sturniolo triplet smut#sturniolo smut#smut#chris sturniolo smut#Christopher sturniolo smut#Chris sturniolo x reader smut#Spotify
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Caught Up in Your Trap
Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader
Word Count: 5.4k
Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.
Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.
Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore.
He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.
“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”
“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”
“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”
Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”
The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”
They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.
The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.”
Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.
Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.”
Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”
Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”
Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”
“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.
Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.
This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.
The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.
Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked.
The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.
He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.
Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.
You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.”
You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”
He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”
This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”
He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.”
Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”
He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”
That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.
“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”
Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.
He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”
You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.
He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.
“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”
You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing.
He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”
You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.
The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.
You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.
You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on.
Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.
“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you?
You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut.
Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.
Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.
He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”
“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.
“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”
You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact.
“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”
What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.
Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.
“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”
You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.
“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”
“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.
“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”
He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”
He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”
You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”
He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t.
You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on.
When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on.
When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it.
As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.
After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”
God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.”
He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”
You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.
Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?
You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered.
And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.
You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”
Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”
His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”
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#dark andy barber#andy barber x reader#andy barber x you#andy barber x female reader#defending jacob#dark fic#dark!andy barber#dark!fic#reader insert#chris evans fanfiction#ce characters#fanfic#trapped au#kris wrote something
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Power
Hi this is Maddy and I’m going to try the new confidence booster supplement from CC Industries called ‘Power’ and document it here. My boyfriend Alex is a scientist with the company so this is currently experimental but he assures me it’s safe. So this is me with zero days of Power.
Hi it’s Maddy again and this is day three of taking Power. Not seeing much difference yet. I think maybe my ass has gotten smoother and bigger? Let me know in the comments.
Hi it’s Maddy and this is day seven of taking Power and I’ve been feeling more confident and assertive. Thanks for all the compliments on my butt in my last video, that’s really helped my self esteem. Also maybe related but I seem to need my glasses less and less.
This is two weeks of being on Power and I think I’m really starting to feel a difference now. Like check out this cute outfit, I would have never had the confidence to wear something like this before. Comment below with a score out of 10 for how I look.
Maddy here and this is one month using Power. As you can tell it’s had some major physical side effects. My boobs are bigger, my skin is clearer and my lips are more full. It’s certainly been a hit with my boyfriend who suggested I up my dose. I’m not sure if I should but what’s the worse than can happen?
It’s me, Maddy, and this is what two months of Power looks like. I’ve never had the confidence to own a sun bathing suit before but now, well, I think this little number speaks for itself. My boyfriend was right, the double dose makes me feel and look even better. Other guys have noticed too, but don’t tell my boyfriend he has competition.
It’s me, Madi, naturally, and here I am looking like perfection after three months of Power. I’ve had a few changes in the last month. I got new clothes, new makeup and even a new car thanks to biggest change in my life, my new boyfriend Chad. He’s rich and handsome and knows how to treat a woman of my stature, not like my loser ex. Message for all you queens out there, don’t settle for frogs.
It’s Madison here to update you all on my four months of having Power. I’d also like to address the comments from my last video. The comments that say that I’ve become bitchy and superficial lately. I’d like to apologize to all the babies out there who are envious of me and want to take me down. You’re never going to take me down. Which reminds me, today I hit a milestone of 1 million subs!
Listen up, Madison is speaking. I know plenty of you jealous bitches have signed a petition to get CC Industries to cut off my supply of Power and somehow you losers won them over but I have plenty of Power stocked up. You think I’d give up this feeling after just five months? I might even start upping my dose!
I have big news for all my loser followers, your Queen is getting married. Not to Chad, I dumped him last week for my new man. Well not new exactly, it’s Alex my ex. I was burning through my supply of Power more than I thought and I knew Alex could get me more, but he was too moralistic and lame so I spiked his drinks over a few weeks with my remaining doses. He’s so fucking hawt and mean now. Power gave him the drive to take over CC industries so now I get all the Power I could ever want but I don’t like to share so we won’t be releasing it anytime soon. If I could do all this with only six months of Power, imagine what I’ll accomplish in the next six.
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Toxic - L. Heeseung
Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!
Warning: oral male receiving, suggestive, cursing, crying, mentions of cheating, angst.
Genre: ex's, toxic relationship, smut, mdni!
WC: 2,924k
After heeseung left, you sat in your bed wondering where it all went wrong.
If you were being honest, it has always been somewhat wrong.
Your relationship with heeseung was far from perfect, not to say you needed it to be perfect, but there were a lot of grey areas that you tried to address but couldn’t fully, especially when he was always saying one thing and doing the opposite.
There were many instances where looking back at it, you should have maybe evaluated things more properly, but at the time, you brushed it off, thinking that it was kinda normal for your boyfriend to be jealous or a little insecure sometimes, and since his possessive side flattered you you just let it go and assured him he was all you ever wanted.
But you soon came to realize there was nothing normal about his reactions to certain situations.
It got increasingly worse, but it happened very slowly and subtly, and by the time you noticed it, it was already full-on affecting your relationship to the point of you both ultimately separating, causing his inability to believe that he was enough for you.
Thinking back on it, there were so many times his behavior was downright toxic, and now you can’t help but wonder if you played a role in it or not.
In the beginning, you were sure you didn’t, but after the way he talked to you just now, a part of you was searching deep inside yourself for answers that maybe could have changed the outcome of your guy's relationship.
Flashback 1
“Hee, which one do you like best?” You and your boyfriend were currently shopping at a clothing outlet in the mall, and you had invited him to help you find a few new outfits for summer.
“Whatever shows the most skin” he replied dryly while shoving his hands in his pocket with an annoyed expression.
You let out an airy laugh, wondering where this snotty comment came from. “Okay, is there something I’m missing?” You took it lightly cause he had been acting strange all day today, so maybe he just wasn’t feeling like shopping and said the first thing that came to mind. “You don’t seem like yourself.” You put the two dresses down and cupped his cheek in your palm.
He nuzzled his face into your touch his eyes falling shut with a deep sigh. “Baby, it’s just everyone is looking at you today, and I can’t stand it. Even the cashier can’t take his eyes off you. Why didn’t you wear something less revealing?” He complains.
“Oh hee,” you pecked his lips shortly. “I haven’t even noticed 'cause I’m with the best man on the planet.” he smiles at your words, his heart rate turning back to normal, at least for now, but your shopping trip was far from over.
You didn’t bother to address his other comment cause you were dressed fine. You chalked it up to him being jealous and moved on quickly to finish shopping.
And just when he thought the trip was going somewhat okay when you both got to the register, he finally lost it.
“Thank you. Please come again!” The male cashier says with a bright smile, handing you your bag of clothes.
Heeseung was already annoyed by how the worker kept smiling at you, but when you smiled back, it just enraged him even further.
“You looked like you were two seconds away from running behind the cash register and dropping to your knees to suck him off” he roughly intertwined his fingers with yours, taking the bag from you so you wouldn’t have to hold it the rest of the trip.
“Hee, not this again.” You laughed because you had no idea what he was even going on about, but you kinda liked this jealous side of him.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t see the way he was looking at you,” he scoffs and squeezes your hand a little tighter while surveying the mall that was full of other guys that he deemed were more attractive than him.
“Well, you’re not entirely wrong,” you giggle.
“What do you mean?” He says with worry.
“I do want to suck someone off, just not him,” you say with a mischievous smile as you squeeze his hand and lead him to the nearest clothing store with a fitting room in it.
“Y/n, why are we-“You push him inside the open dressing room, quickly locking the door behind the two of you as you start to fiddle with the button on his jeans.
“Why are you shocked, baby?” You say and place your hands on his chest, pushing him to sit on the small bench in the corner. He drops your shopping bags to the floor, obediently sitting down for you.
“I- ummm.” he stops himself, knowing that anything that came out of his mouth was going to sound incoherent and ridiculous at this point.
You don’t bother exchanging any more words since you are in a public place. After all, you both had to be quick. besides, talking could wait till later. You had better things to do with your mouth right now.
Gripping the waist of his pants, you tug them down around his ankles with the help of him raising his hips.
Smiling at the sight of his semi-hardened bulge through his underwear, you place your hand over it, rubbing his length under his clothing. “Fuck” he sighs and rests his head on the wall behind him spreading his legs open wider.
Slipping his boxers to the side, you pull his cock out through the hole in the front, marveling at the sight of precum running from his pink tip.
Without another second passing by, you stick your tongue out, tracing the tip of his cock, teasing him but just a little.
“You taste so good” he twitches at your words, his cock pathetically throbbing in your hand from the smallest touch.
After the first taste, you go back for another and another until his tip is clean of precum, and of course, that wasn’t enough for you or him, so you sink down on his dick, your mouth working his shaft up and down until your slick saliva wets his entire dick. “Baby…” the pet name hangs in the air while you suck him off, your right hand tugging and occasionally squeezing his base while the other takes care of his full balls.
You looked up at him with nothing but desire filling your eyes while lapping at the underside of his cock.
He places his hand on the back of your head, gently guiding you. “Oh my god,” quick pants replace the once steady breaths he let out, and by the way, he’s twitching on your tongue. You know it’s only a matter of time before you get your creamy dessert.
You pull off of him for a quick breather, but your mouth covers him again in less than a second, taking his breath away completely. “Y/n, fuck, fuck me, it feels so good,” he moans, biting on his lip as he digs his nails into the wooden bench, definitely leaving marks in its glossy finish.
You hum around his girth cock, creating a little tingly sensation on his sensitive dick tipping him over the edge easily. “I’m gonna cum” he whines lowly and fills your mouth with hot seed. You can feel every last little squirt until there is nothing but a few little drops left to coat your tongue. You swallow it all and slow the movement of your hands carefully so as not to overstimulate him or make him uncomfortable.
He was breathing heavily, eyes barely open as you showed him your tongue.
He smirks tiredly and pats your head. “Too bad for everyone else. You’re all mine.” he pulls you into a kiss, not caring about tasting himself on your tongue.
“Yeah, too bad,” you tell him playfully with a smirk on your face.
Flashback 2
“You really have to go out tonight?” Heeseung says into your ear, his arms wrapped around your waist as you put the finishing touches on your outfit for your night out.
“Baby, what do you mean tonight? I haven’t gone out in months.” You turn around in his hold, pressing a kiss to his lips.
“It’s still too often” he kissed you back. “You need to be with me at all times, not at some party.”
“It’s one night for a few hours. I’ll be back soon.” You break away from him, going to the front door to get some shoes on.
“Hours?! Who’s gonna be there?” He follows you to the living room.
“Jay-“You don’t even get to list any more names before he cuts off.
“Nope, you can’t go. I see the way he looks at you, and with the way you’re dressed, no, that definitely can’t happen,” he says sternly.
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” You pout you were fully dressed from head to toe, so you didn’t see what the problem was. “And what’s wrong with Jay? He always treats me like family.”
“Family? He’s been wanting to fuck you since we started dating, and what isn’t wrong with this?” He traces his hands over your outfit, shaping every curve of your body. “Leaves nothing to the imagination of what you look like naked.”
“Hee, I think you’re overreacting,” you mumble, feeling a bit disappointed with his response.
“Baby, no, hey.” he grabs your chin and tilts it upward, looking into your eyes. “I’m just looking out for you, okay? Unless you don’t want me to.”
“It’s not that it’s jus-“
“Then stay home for me, yeah? Boyfriend knows best; besides, you got me. There’s no need to party.” he smiles and leads to the couch but notices your grumpy figure slouched beside him. “What’s wrong?” He asks, stroking your shoulder.
“It’s nothing,” you tell him to end potential conflict.
“You want to go out still, is that it?” He says, and he sounds a bit irritated this time, and this is exactly what you have been trying to avoid. “Then go,” he said, pops his mouth, and takes his arm off your shoulder. “Fuck off with Jay. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you dressed like you want to be railed.”
“What are you talking about?” You raised your voice slightly, wondering where any of this was coming from. You knew he was a little jealous at times, but he was taking it way too far tonight.
“Don’t yell.” his eyes softened as he whispered. “I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t mean to upset you; I just was trying to look out for you.” he shrinks back onto the couch, and now you feel bad for talking to him the way you did. “But I guess I’m failing at that too.”
“Hee” you go back to the couch sitting next to him. “Wait, I’m sorry too.” You rubbed his back in slow, soothing circles. “You’re aren’t failing. You’re doing a great job of looking out for me.”
“Really?” He mumbles a small pout on his lips, and it always confused you how fast he was able to change moods.
“Really, baby, I won’t go. I’ll go get changed into something comfortable, and we can cuddle and watch movies all night, okay?” You kissed his nose.
“Yeah?” his smile returns, and you’re happy about that cause the last thing you ever wanted to do was hurt him or make him sad.
“Yeah, you’re right. Who needs a party when you have the bestest boyfriend in the world?” you left the living room, called your friends and, canceled all your plans and stayed in with heeseung for the rest of the night.
Flashback 3
“Why were you two alone in the kitchen?” Heeseung asked you.
You had both just gotten home from hanging out at Jake’s place. He had invited you both, and a few other friends, and you were all having a good time until you and Jake left to get a drink and popcorn refills together.
“Hee, please, not right now. We had a good night, and I’m tired,” you all but whined.
“Okay, so then just tell me, it’s that simple.” he folds his arms, obviously not taking no for an answer.
“We just got refills and snacks for everyone, that’s it.” You trudge up the stairs, not in the mood for yet another accusation. It had been more and more frequent. At first, you liked him being the protective boyfriend, but it just started going overboard and more so possessive and controlling than “protective,” as he put it.
“It took that long?” He questions, still not happy after getting an answer, and that’s what finally made you snap.
“You know what? Fine, I cheated on you. I let him bend me over the counter and fuck my brains out. Is that what you want to hear? Are you happy now?!” You finally got frustrated with him, and you couldn’t control your anger anymore. Constantly being accused of cheating felt like shit, especially when it was coming from the love of your life.
“That’s not true, right? You’d never do that to me,” he whispers softly, feeling tears prick his eyes.
“No, hee,” you crumbled upon seeing his broken expression, and you quickly wrapped him up in your arms, hugging him close to your body. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry, baby. I’d never ever do anything to hurt you.” You cup his cheeks, wiping away his tears. “Okay? I love you so much, and you’ll always be the only man I want. No one else even comes close to comparing to you. You’re my perfect boyfriend, Lee heeseung. You’re my everything, and nothing will ever change my mind, not Jay, not Jake, not a cashier, absolutely nobody.”
“So you didn’t cheat?” You wag your head as a no. “And you mean all of what you just said?”
“All of it.” You look back and forth between his eyes, doing your best to show him you mean every last word and you’d never do something so horrible like that to him.
“Thank goodness I thought I lost you for a sec.” he reaches his arms around your back, hugging you so tightly as if he’s afraid you’d disappear. “I just get a little anxious when you’re around other guys.”
“I can tell,” you giggle, making light of the situation as you brush your nose against his softly. “But you’re the only guy that matters. Id never let anyone lay a finger on what’s yours,” you whisper, your face just inches away from his as you guide his hands till they rest on your lower back.
“What’s mine?” He smirks and takes the lead pressing your body against his as his hands drop lower, giving your ass a firm squeeze.
“Yes,” you moan breathlessly against his lips. “I’m all yours, hee.”
“That you are.” he easily picks you up and carries you to the bed, laying you down softly as he hovers over you. “And I’ll make sure you never forget” Those are the last words that leave his glossy lips before he devours you touching and kissing every single square inch of your body, filling you up with every last inch until you see stars and no matter how late in the morning it is or how many times you clench around his cock with orgasm after orgasm he still can’t stop not until your walls are molded perfectly to the shape of his big cock and your hole is so stuffed with cum that even when you wake up in the morning, it will still be leaking from your hole.
End of flashbacks
After replaying all those memories in your head, you can see clearly that you should have never got back with him after he accused you of cheating.
The other things were bad, too, but cheating was just the last straw cause, ultimately, it meant he thought lowly of you and didn’t trust you enough to be left alone for three minutes with his friend while you both made popcorn.
After breaking up with him just a few months after that situation, you wonder how you let him back in so easily.
Yes, you still loved him, but why?
He called you every foul thing in the book, including a cheater and a slut, yet you still wanted him back.
Even up to this point, he was still accusing you of cheating on him and saying that you thought he was never enough for you.
So why do you kiss him? Why are you even still thinking of him?
Hours after thinking about the entirety of your guy's relationship and what it used to be, you still can’t pinpoint why it went the way it did, especially when he wasn’t accusing you of such nasty things. He was the perfect boyfriend.
Holding doors for you, paying for every meal, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, texting you every morning and every night, sometimes even throughout the day, just to tell you what he was up to, introducing you to his friends and family, everything about him was your ideal type.
You even imagined getting married and spending the rest of your life with him.
But after the last few months of being with him, you just couldn’t take it as many upsides as there were.
There were just as many downsides, but he wasn’t good for your wellbeing, and that’s exactly why you broke it off.
Yet that still wasn’t the answer cause even though you and him are long over, you’re here left with a broken heart, just like on the day that you left him.
#enhypen heeseung#heeseung#enhypen#lee heeseung#enha heeseung#engene#heeseung smut#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#heeseung hard thoughts#lee heeseung angst#enhypen lee heeseung smut#lee heeseung smut
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hiii, can you do that reader is a influencer and LOVES 10 things i hate about you, so she's bestfriends w the triplets and matt is inlove w her and he invites her to see the movie (maybe in his house or in a cinema, idk) and in some moment they confess to each other :)
thanks<3
10 ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ
matt sturniolo x reader
no use of y/n
@st7rnioioss @its-jennarose @timmyscomputer @kriissy4gov @liz-stxrn @sunrisemill @mattssluttywaist @riasturns @mx0qin @junnniiieee07 @alorsxsturn @nonameisthegameandilovejake
Today had been long after filming with the triplets for a good few hours - for both your and their channel. First you had done baking then you had done Omegle like many of your fans had requested for your channel.
You had met the triplets through a social media post, you posting about how funny they were after one of your fans recommended them to you and Matt just so happened to scroll past and reply.
In all honesty, Matt wouldn’t usually comment on tiktoks or address anything - but he took a glance at you and thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Even in your state of pyjamas and messy hair, lying in bed whilst you recording a tiktok giggling to yourself. Utterly perfect.
After that you sent him a message through instagram to which he responded as soon as he saw the notification - again, not a normal occurrence. But he really couldn’t help himself.
When you and the triplets first collabed of course the ship comments came - and no surprise it was between you and Matt.
Now, your fans knew how much of a romantic you were since you were always sharing your love for the movie ‘10 Things I Hate about You’ all the time - so they immediately started comparing you to Cameron and Bianca. Claiming you’d be the sweetest couple in the world.
You had seen these comments and it wasn’t like you were acting on them, they just encouraged your crush. You already found Matt beyond attractive, sweet, caring, funny- you get it. But no way you would ever act on it.
Matt can remember the first time he had watched the rom-com. The two of you were sat on FaceTime and were talking about films - a common topic for the both of you.
“Have you ever watched 10 things I hate about you?” you asked him, sitting up in bed to get comfortable. The brunette racked his brain before shaking his head, to which your jaw dropped. “Matthew! What are you doing? Get off this phone call right now and watch it- do not talk to me until you have!” you exclaimed passionately, hanging up the phone to which Matt chuckled.
The boy sent a message: calling you rude for hanging up. He opened up Disney+ on his TV and began to watch the show
Ever since it had been the both of yours go to movie whenever you hang out. Playing cards? Chuck it on in the background! Cooking? Where’s the tv remote? Cant sleep? You guessed it!
The two of you lay down on his bed, the television in front of you playing your movie. Currently Kat was up in class reciting her poem - which you had memorised.
Matt watched you and smiled as you whispered the words under your breath as you had been doing the whole movie, he absolutely adored it.
He didn’t know where your obsession for the movie started but he could agree it was a good film. The two of you would send edits and tiktoks to each other about it constantly. Matt would use it as a way of silently confessing, and he knew that’s what he wanted to do.
“I don’t hate you, you know?” he hummed. Your head moved up to face him with your eyebrows furrowed, you laughed.
“Well obviously not.” you rolled your eyes playfully, rolling onto your stomach to face the boy fully, unintentionally getting closer to his face.
He swallowed lightly, “I actually really like you.” he tightly his head, his nose gently brushing yours. A smile crept its way onto your face uncontrollably, a pink blush joining along. You hummed, thinking he was playing with you.
“I really like the way you talk to me, I really like your hair.” he started listing, grabbing a piece of your hair and twirling it between his fingers as he held eye contact with you. “I like the way you can’t drive so I have to drive you everywhere, I like it when I catch you staring and you play it off, I like your airforces that you refuse to replace even though their beaten to the bone, I like the way we read each others minds, I like it when you prove me wrong even though I want to be right, I like the way your bad at lying and smile every-time, I like it when your make me smile, I like it when your around me, I like it when I get a random call from you and the conversation flows naturally, but mostly I like that fact that I like you.”
You stared at him speechless, a blush now gracing his face at the words coming out his mouth. When he finished he smiled at you sheepishly. He went to open his mouth again, to take away his words, but you got there first.
Leaning forward you placed a hand on his jaw and kissed him lovingly. He kissed back gently, smiling into it happily. Slowly you pulled away and giggled into his neck, him chuckling with you. “I hate you so much stupid!”
“No you don’t.” He teased.
“I really don’t.”
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#the sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#jake webber x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fanfic#nick sturniolo fluff#nick sturniolo fanfic#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo edit#sturniolo fanfic#masterlist#get to know me#matt#10 things i hate about you#fashion#fanfic
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Can you do a request where Pablo wants reader to seat on their lap but reader doesn’t want to because she’s insecure about how skinny she is and from pass experiences exes have told her that her legs hurt their lap, and teased her for it, can you make it fluff :)
„stay, it‘s comfortable” - pablo gavi
summary: gavi found out about your insecurity, so he assures you you‘re enough.
genre: fluff
warnings: talks about body image, past relationships,
a/n: thank you for the request:)
———
Spending cozy, slow days with Gavi was probably your most loved activity. The hustle and bustle from the week was suddenly forgotten and all that mattered was Gavi and you.
You didn’t need to do much. His presence was already enough to get rid of any negativity, it just felt like you were made for each other.
Gavi usually lingered around the living room, the couch was his favorite spot by far. He could just let his muscles relax, play fifa while you were doing something else or just sleep with you in his arms. It felt like the hectic everyday life stood still, the only thing that mattered was you two.
It was a gloomy saturday, Barcelona‘s usual sunny side was replaced by dark clouds hanging low over the city. You had been doing some schoolwork while your boyfriend took a nap. The plan for that night was to watch a movie and maybe doordash food to his house, both of you were too lazy to cook anything.
After Gavi woke up from his slumber and you being done with homework, you joined him under the fuzzy blanket on the couch.
He immediately pulled you closer, almost to the point you laid on top of him. You giggled at his antics, but secretly loved how he looked for your touch. At the beginning of the relationship you were a bit overwhelmed with how loving Gavi was. Not that you didn’t like it, but because of past experiences with your exes, you were rather reserved when it came to show affection. They made some rather questionable comments regarding your body, but always saying it was a joke. To you it was never a joke. Never should anyone talk about someone elses body, especially not in a negative way.
That’s why you were still rather shy to show physical affection. You‘ve never told your boyfriend about it, you just swept it under the rug, hoping he would never address it.
You were still grinning, Gavi pulled you now completely onto his lap, holding you close. As the giggles settled, only then did you realize how close you two were. You became a bit nervous, insecure even, hoping your legs didn’t hurt him like your exes told you they did.
You were about to sit back down onto the couch, but Gavi held your waist tightly.
„Stay, it’s comfortable. You’re warm.“ He said, engulfing you in a hug.
„It is?“ You asked rather surprised, not thinking he would actually like it.
„Mhm, is it not comfortable for you?“
„No! yeah it is. It’s just people have told me otherwise.“ You mumbled. Gavi just furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding what you were trying to say.
„What do you mean by that baby?“ He asked, his fingers playing with your hair.
„Well, my exes always made fun of my legs because they are on the thinner side, telling me it was uncomfortable when I sat in their lap. That’s why I didn’t do it again.“
„Why did you never say anything amor? I hope you know I‘m not like your exes, or that’s what I at least hope.“
„Of course you aren’t! I‘m just overthinking things sometimes.“ You spoke, clasping your hands together behind his neck.
„I love you. Your legs, your arms, your belly button. I love everything about you. What your past relationships said is not okay, but I want you to feel safe with me and not worry about such silly things. I love having you close to me.“
Your smile couldn’t be bigger, you even started to blush. You hid your face in his neck, earning a laugh from Gavi.
„Nu-uh, don’t hide, I want to see your pretty face.“ He said and pecked your lips several times. He brought a blanket over you two and pulled you flush against him.
„That’s actually comfortable. Now you don’t get rid of me anymore.“ You giggled as you laid there in his arms.
„Good because we won’t get up from this couch anytime soon.“ Gavi laughed and proceeded to pick out a movie for you two to watch.
#gavi x reader#pablo gavi#pablo gavi x reader#gavi#gavi one shot#barça#pedri x reader#football x reader#football one shot#fc barcelona
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Okay so this is my very first request I’ve ever made so I’m not very sure how to do this BUT could you pretty please write when reader calls Ghost her husband instead of her boyfriend to someone? I really enjoy your writing and think you’d do this so well
If you don’t want to feel free to ignore this lol
Xoxo 😚
My Little Note
-> ALWAYS happy to write such a good request, and I absolutely love this one so make sure to get your asks in!!!
-> I did this in like a drabble style so if you want an actual one-shot, just comment :)
Warnings: slight swearing, unsure about continuation of the one-shot, gender neutral however i have not proof read ୨୧
You would do it as a tiktok trend but it totally set somethin off in him.
After that one singular time of you calling him husband, he doesn't reply to boyfriend - waiting patiently until you address him with his honourable title.
He introduces you as wife/husband to EVERYBODY he meets, even when you meet the 141 - in which they were very shocked.
Anybody tries to hit on him and he is immediately turning them down (if he even noticises it's flirting) saying loud and clear that he is happily married.
You go on and on about if he's calling yous married that you want a ring on both of your fingers to prove so. And he just grumbles in response, a small "hmm" or "yea" to prove that he was listening.
When in reality he has a beautiful diamond ring in his gun draw (so you don't go nosing around) just waiting for the correct moment to ask you.
He finally asks you when you both took some well earned and needed vacation days. Next to a stunning sunset where you were taking a video of the view.
He got down on one knee and and recited his well rehearsed speech which you both shed a tear to.
<3
My asks are currently open so get the requests in, and check out my masterlist.
THANK YOU FOR READING!! -> ALL REBLOGS, LIKES AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!!
#task force 141#simon ghost riley#cod 141#simon riley fluff#simon riley x you#141 x reader#ghost cod#ghost#mw2 141#ghost x reader
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Weighted Bodies
Pt. 2 to Foggy Minds
Word Count: 3.2K
A/N: I had some requests for part two of foggy minds so i came up with this!!
-
There’s a knock on your door. It’s quick, and curt and you rush towards the door with a pep in your step, your first instinct at such a knock to believe that it’s a package. But you stop short, and you remember that you hadn’t ordered anything. More knocks follow- rapid and heavier than before and you step back.
You’ve made your payments for the month. You can’t think that it would be any loan sharks- you’re dumb, but you’re not dumb enough to make those types of decisions. Your stomach twists and you think it’s a client who found you- it wouldn’t be the first time, but you can’t afford to move. Maybe if you’re quiet, whoever is behind the door will leave. The knocks come again, heavier and pounding on the door, and you turn, grabbing at a picture frame, the metal ridges digging into the palm of your hand. You just have to stay quiet-
“Oi!” You flinch at the voice. “It’s me!” Your eyes squint, and you can recognize the voice. “Let me in, will ya? This who fucking place reeks of death and shit.” Oh, you can recognize the voice. “Hurry up!” The banging continues, and you place the picture frame down, and you go to open the door.
He may be wearing a different mask, but you recognize his voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Took you long enough.” He brushes past you and he takes up the whole room. He cranes his neck, walking everywhere and laying down on your couch, resting his head on a decorative pillow. “Your place sucks, by the way. I had some bitch offer to blow me for crack.”
You close the door behind you, securing the locks. You catch the look of disgust on his mask as he analyzes your home.
“How did you know where I live?” You ask hesitantly, your hands playing with the bottom of your shorts.
“Your boss,” he says casually, picking up a decorative statue on the end table. “All I had to do was throw money at him, and he gave me the address and-” he digs into his pocket, and pulls out a few condoms. They’re fisted into his hand, and without a care, he tosses them towards you. They scatter on the ground. You stare at the contraceptives, and back at him, your face growing warm. He clears his throat. “I’m here now, so you’re welcome or whatever.”
“Why-” your voice catches- “Why are you here, Adam?” His mask is emotive, a brief look of wide eyes is quickly replaced by a neutral look. “We just- You usually wait for like a week before and after Extermination Day, so- so what is this?”
He looks at you for a second. And then two. And then five, and when you squirm and look away from him, he snorts. “You could use better couches. You got a sweet puss, can’t you afford something better? Fuck, I know I’m paying way too much for you still to be living in this shithole.”
You’re fine with the comments being made during your line of work, but hearing it out loud in your home, makes everything feel so perverse. Your chest burns, the flames all consuming and making it harder to breathe. “It’s cozy,” you defend.
“It’s a fucking studio.”
“Well lucky for you, I am moving out.” He turns to you, and places his feet on the worn coffee table. “I uh- I went to the Hazbin Hotel.” You wish he didn’t show up. You’ve never had a client here, not in your personal home. “The princess allowed me to stay, so I’ll probably move out maybe in a few weeks?” You talk to fill the silence. Usually he can be so expressive with the mask, but now, he can’t get a read on him.. Is it because it’s a new mask? Because he hasn’t figured out the wiring or however the mask works? “I mean, it’s not like it matters to you. You don’t- You shouldn’t even be here.” You shake your head. “But um,” you clear your throat, “yeah.” You think you’d rather suck him off at this point than continue to talk.
“She’s letting you move in?” He sounds taken aback.
You shrug. “It took some convincing.” Your nails scratch along your thighs, and you can breathe a bit easier. “It was like she didn’t want me to. But I guess I looked pathetic enough that she felt bad for me.” You give a weak laugh. “But uh- They have a friend of mine- Angel- so he kinda helped, but even he seemed,” you pause, “weird about it.”
He’s silent. You shuffle your weight between each leg, and you think you’ve said too much. You open your mouth, trying to remedy the situation, but you’re interrupted.
“I’m hungry,” he tells you, grabbing at your remote and flipping through the channels.
You narrow your eyes in confusion. “Okay?”
“Make me something to eat.”
Every part of you is screaming to tell him to leave. To go back to Heaven- that there must be a price to pay for him visiting Hell for- for you. The thought of him visiting for you makes your heart beat against your ribs, drumming loudly behind the ivory cages. He’s visiting for leisure. That’s it. Not for you, but for fun. To annoy you- to annoy a resident of Hell.
But he’s made himself comfortable. And you hate to admit it- even to yourself- but you like the company. Even if said company is rather brutish.
“I’m making food because I’m hungry, not because you told me,” you huff, turning on your heel to walk to the adjacent kitchen.
“Yeah, whatever,” he scoffs.
-
The plates sit empty, and the television is turned on. The program isn’t anything new, something you’ve seen countless times, same format, different people. It’s boring, and with the swell of your stomach from the savory meal you just had, you could fall asleep. You think you are falling asleep. Your eyes are heavy and your mind is filled with static and mothballs, far too thick for you to be aware as Adam lets his hand rest beside yours. The side of his finger touches yours, and you want to hold his hand.
“If you want to be redeemed, I could probably pull a few strings.” He doesn’t turn around, and you think you dreamt what he just told you. You look at him, and you don’t know if you heard him or not. He looks away from the television, and his hand stays beside yours.
“What?” You ask with sleep laced into your voice.
“I doubt Sera or Lute would be happy-” you recognize Lute, but you haven’t heard of Sera- “but whatever. They can go fuck themselves if they say anything.” He says the words quietly, held together as if they should have never been uttered, a prayer under the ceiling of your home, the yellow lights nothing like the sunlight from above.
“Are you-” your voice cracks, and you clear your throat- “Are you being for real?”
“Why the fuck would I say it in the first place?” His wings flutter, feathers bristling against the worn couch. He sounds offended that you think he would say this. But what else are you meant to think?
“That’s-” your voice is soft, and filled with doubt and hurt. He turns to you, and he’s waiting and watching. “I can’t do that.” You shake your head. “That’s not fair to Angel. He’s been trying real hard-”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” His voice has lost the gentleness that it held before, the soft whisper is gone and replaced with something sharp and cold, and he looks at you through his mask.
You realize he hasn't removed it in all the time he’s been here.
“Angel- He’s making progress and he’s doing good despite-”
“The porn demon sucks cocks all day-”
“You don’t get to call him that,” you say defensively. “He does what he does because he has to. When you sell your soul, you don’t get to say no.” You pull your hand away from where it was, and you move away from him. “And if he’s the porn demon then what the fuck am I?”
“Don’t be stupid,” he sneers. You flinch at the words. “You’re a sinner. Take the fucking offer.” His mask glitches, and you wonder if it’s made of a cheaper grade. However, you doubt Adam would wear anything less than excellence. “We come down to slaughter you for funsies, and you’re telling me that because you feel bad for the porn demon you aren’t going to take the opportunity to be a winner?”
“It’s just-”
“You’re a Sinner,” he hisses out your name like it’s something grotesque on his tongue, his eyes narrowed and his wings curling behind him. “You don’t have to tough it out in the dirt like this. You could be living it up, we could be fucking on literal clouds.”
You look away. You forget your place. You forget that he visits not to spend time with you, but to fuck you. You’ve been used for as long as you can remember, and it hasn’t stopped. A part of you hoped that Adam wasn’t entirely like that. That one some deep, hidden, part of him, that he liked you as a Sinner, that he liked you. That perhaps because he was an angel, he had some decency in him.
“Adam,” you speak softly, your eyes fixating on a plate.
“What?”
“You’re being mean.” You roll your bottom lip between your teeth. “Meaner than usual.”
“I’m being honest.”
“You’re still being mean,” you tell him, shoulders raised and the food in your stomach churning.
He huffs. “I don’t know why you’d rather stay at this shithole. And then you’re going over to the princess’s hotel? Sinners are meant to stay down here. That bitch isn’t gonna save anyone.” His words are cold, and he hasn’t looked away from you. “You think you’re going to be redeemed?”
“Well-” you drag out, looking away from him. You aren’t sure. You want to believe that people can be redeemed, but a part of you knows that you’re only moving because it gets you free lodging. Rent isn’t cheap, and living in a hotel sounds fun.
“Let me give it to you straight,” he practically snarls. The venom in his voice is laid thick onto his words. “You aren’t.” His wings flap and the feathers prick themselves, the soft form they held, now rough and looking as if they were made for fighting rather than holding. “I’m giving you a chance to take the easy road and become an angel, but you’re too fucking dumb to even say yes.”
Your throat tightens, and your eyes burn with heavy tears. “I think you should leave.”
“Fuck you.” He grabs your wrist and you’re reminded that despite the physical appearance of him looking so man- he’s far more than that. “You think because I fuck you twice a year, that it makes you special?” His wings flare out, the golden feathers suddenly so cold. His voice is cold, and he presses his face closer to yours, teeth bared and a scowl ruining his pretty face.
Something awful twists at your stomach, nails piercing into your guts and innards, and leaving you filled with bile. “You quite literally asked me if I wanted to be redeemed,” you say quietly, spitting the words out. “Excuse me for thinking I’m so special.” The words are heavy and weak as they escape.
The eyes of the mask narrow, and his wings curl in, and you wonder just how powerful they are. “You’re a good fuck. That’s it. I get to rough you up, you beg for me.” His hand tightens around your wrist. “I’m offering it because it’s hard to find someone so fucking pathetic like you. Go to that hotel or don’t. Next extermination, I swear,” his words are filled with malice, “if I see you,” his nails dig into your skin, “I’ll be the one to-”
“The one to what?” You interject, your eyes glossy and voice wavering. “What? You’ll kill me? Fuck you, Adam. You- You come down here and act like you’re so much better than anyone else here-” you yank your hand back and clasp your other hand over the wrist- “well you aren’t.” Your chest rises and falls, your teeth bared in a desperate attempt to make yourself look dangerous. But with the tears in your eyes, and every fiber in your being begging you to run, to scream and hide away, you know you don’t even appear to be a threat.
You sit on the opposite end of the couch, holding your wrist, and trying not to cry. You can’t give him that satisfaction. But your legs bounce, and they won’t stop, no matter how much you try. You should have kicked him out before, you could have lied about having plans. You should have screamed for help- though you doubt your neighbors would actually do something about it.
“Why did you come here, Adam?” You ask, looking down at the ground. “We had something good going on.” You tuck your legs under yourself, biting at the inside of your cheeks, grimacing when you bite too harshly. “Even if I wanted to be a Winner, I wouldn’t- I’d be lost up there.”
He’s quiet for far too long and the rejection makes you close in on yourself.
“I wouldn’t kill you.” Your eyes glance over to him for a moment, but he’s turned his head the other way. “I didn’t mean it.” His hand goes to curve over where his usual horns are, but they flutter in the air, falling until they grasp onto the curved steel bone of his new mask. “You wouldn’t be lost,” he tells you, his face turned towards the wall in front of him. His voice is tight, almost as if he’s embarrassed to be telling you what he’s saying now. His wings flutter, gold shimmering in a wave. He clears his throat, and looks away. “A bunch of the angels are on the welcoming committee.”
“There’s a welcoming committee?”
“It’s fucking lame. We have some guy sing a song about how everyone in Heaven is hot, and he just flies around.” He sounds annoyed, the eyes of his mask forming a thin line of glowing dots, and you snort. “I’m telling you it’s fucking torture to listen to the damn song every time we get a new soul.” He waves his hand in the air, agitation light in his voice.
“When I arrived in Hell, it sucked.” He looks at you. You don’t like to talk about your arrival to Hell. Not to your friends, not to anyone. You hardly like to think about it yourself. “I uh-” you smile bitterly- “I was so upset. I was in hell. It was hot. The noises were loud. And I-” you stop, the feeling of loneliness making your body feel detached- “I was hungry.” You hadn’t realized just how loneliness was so consuming.
“What do you remember?” He probes.
You pause. You remember being terrified and alone; wanting someone to take you in their arms and tell you that you were safe; you remember wanting it all to be a dream. “I remember the pain of landing here.” You watch as his wings unfurl, one spilling over the armrest of your couch, the other careful to not smack you. It brushes against you, and you look at them memorized, the patterns of the feather delicacy etched upon him. “I think I’d take a song any day.” You remember taking jobs that you had never thought you’d ever take.
“Come ‘ere,” he tells you. You crawl towards him, and he touches you, his hands steady and holding you firmly as they situate you above him, letting you sit on his lap. The glowing eyes make your own look away, the gaze of him far too much, too empty and unclear for you to feel comfortable. You know your place. A pet for him when he wants it. Going to heaven would only further cement your place at the ground that he stands on. His hands grab yours and they guide you to the end of his mask. “Take it off.”
It’s a heavy mask. You wish you could examine it, even if you aren’t sure what any of it would mean, but you want to study it, to let your finger trace over the features. Your attention is pulled back to him, and you thin your lips.
He’s always been difficult to look at. His eyes are gold, shimmering and shining under your lights, how hair tousled and set from being confined in the mask, and you can’t stand to look at him. You close your eyes, and your hands ghost over his cheeks, tensing and choosing to rest over his clothed shoulders. Your lips meld, and your hands tighten over his shoulders. It’s soft, his stubble tickling your chin. You murmur his name, repeated when he kisses your neck, his name muttered like a prayer, your hands clawing and grasping at him. You shut your eyes, your body curling into his touch, lips desperate to find his again. You need him. You crave him. You wish he’d stop grabbing at your skin, but every touch is feverish, flaming your body more than it already has.
You kiss him with want. You kiss him like you’re alone all over again, wanting to commit him to memory.
-
Your eyes grow heavier, sleep wrapping itself around you like a warm blanket, or perhaps it’s his wing, curled around you, spilling over your body and your sofa. Each blink grows longer, and you nestle to the side of him, clinging to his warmth. “When are you moving to the hotel?” His voice is soft, the tips of his hands scratching up and down your arm. You mumble your answer, letting your eyes come to a close. “The hotel fucking sucks. The whole idea of it does. It's like she wants you to die.” Your brows furrow with each passing word. The words are lost on you, your mind too foggy with sleep to pick apart the words and piece the clues together. “Lilith’s brat is only setting you up for failure.”
“‘M used to it,” you mumble. “‘S no big deal, Ads.” You wish he’d stop talking. You’re tired, can’t he hear it in your voice?
“It’s fucking dumb,” he spits.
“Adam,” you whine, your legs tensing and squeezing around his own, “‘M tired.” You feel the gust of his wings, a ghost of a touch making your skin prick in chills.
“Stop talking.” His feathers are soft, and you always forget just how they feel despite touching them quite a few times. They curl around you, a heavy blanket or warmth, the soft hints of cologne and musk envelop you, and he’s soft under you, tender and gentle, his hands tracking into your skin, invisible tattoos kissed onto you. “I can do whatever I want in Heaven.”
“Mhm, sounds great,” you whisper, your body heavy above his, limp with sleep and full with sin and unknowing.
You're pulled closer to him, and you welcome his warmth and his comfort. “Even if you don't want to be redeemed, you can stay up there. I'll have you taken care of. No one would say shit.”
#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel#hazbin adam x reader#hazbin adam#adam x reader#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel imagine#i think he'd be like weirdly possessive of a partner#but not really weirdly because like both of his past partners or wives like left him#so he's like wanting to keep reader on like a leash#he got attached#and thats his like curse#to want and never really have it returned#i wanna write one where Adam's angel s/o falls and like lucifer has fallen#so he's there#and Adam can't visit without like suspicions arising#so he watches as lucifer and his partner#he doesn't think they're broken up and s/o is too distraught to even think about anything other than pain#get closer and hes like no!!#not another one!!#and lucifer is still depressed#but he likes knowing that he's not alone#and sure the other sins are there#but like its different for reasons#but idk#I think I would the story with like either a v poly#adam#or luci
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beautiful sound
derek morgan x fem!reader
derek doubts your ability on the team. his words hurt more than normal.
cw: case mentions, slight enemies to lovers, derek is kinda an asshole, quiet!reader, reader knows sign language, first kiss, she/her pronouns, bau reader, objectification of women, hotch defender
wc: 2.6k
༺♡༻
you’re quiet, you always have been.
growing up, you sat on your hands, often not making a sound.
it became routine, a habit. speaking became a bother.
you learned to sign from an early age. although most didn’t know the language, it was comforting to have a second form of communication.
when drafted into the bau, your quietness was never a problem; marked on your file actually. it proved to be an asset at times. you see people differently and when a case involves someone who struggles communicating, your skill set helps out.
the team is sent for a case in san jose.
you hate referring to it as standard but that's what it was, four women murdered with the same m.o.
once boarding the plane, you slide into a window seat in the group of four. derek clambers in after you. when hotch assigns you and spencer to victimology and the geographical profile, he bumps your arm.
“was hoping i would get victimology with you for once instead of pretty boy.”
you blush. the comment is flirty enough to speed up your heart rate.
as much as you want to work with derek, you like working with spencer. the two of you work well together and he knows how to sign. makes it a lot easier than writing information down to convey to the others.
though the case is standard, it takes three days to get a lead.
no one takes a break. between another body being found in that time and a restless community, there isn’t time. victimology is tough too. the women are all different, no jobs, friends, or hobbies to connect them.
to combat the long hours, derek brings you and spencer coffee, his warm and yours iced. spencer grumbles about having to add cream and sugar to it but yours is perfect, your exact order. it’s a small gesture but it sends your heart fluttering. but, you know not to overthink it. if anyone asked, you could recite the team's coffee orders off the top of your head; except for hotch who, in secret, prefers matcha.
you choose to stay at the precinct when garcia gives off the name and address of the suspect; arthur miller. raids aren't your strong suit. each member of the team looks at you as they leave to which you nod. a silent be safe.
miller fights the entire way to the interrogation room. derek’s grip on his arms are strong but even he struggles a bit with the thrashing. you don’t blame miller. as of right now, he’s innocent. if you were brought in, you would be kicking too.
once the team regroups, the objective is clear; get a confession or frankly, anything that’ll help the case.
“y/n, get ready. you’re interviewing.”
hotch’s orders are stern.
derek scoffed. “hotch, come on man. we have a missing woman and he is the only suspect we have. you want to send her? she never talks.”
your head drops. it’s not an unusual reaction but his words sting; you’re used to side comments from police officers or families from cases, not a close friend.
“morgan,” hotch warns.
“no no. we have five dead women and who knows if there are any others. and you want to send in the girl who can barely even operate verbally on this team. are you not seeing how she could screw this up?”
it’s silent.
your heart splits out of pure betrayal and dejection. you weren’t exactly open with the team about why you’re so quiet, but you didn’t think anyone on the team thought of you this way, let alone derek.
hotch turns to you with a nod. permission to proceed. you stand up with your head bowed.
you like derek, more than you probably should. it's childish, delusional, to think he would ever like you back. but his words don’t just sting, they burn. barely even operate, screw this up. you bite your lip in an attempt to try to not to let it show how this is impacting you.
derek shakes his head and turns around, mumbling something about it being the wrong decision. you have no choice but to ignore it, grabbing your cosmetics bag and heading into the precinct bathroom to get ready.
eyes fall to you as you stepped out of the bathroom. this is the biggest interview of your career yet, and you needed to dress the part.
you kept your dress pants on, though you shed your top layer besides a tank top, pulling it down just enough to be considered scandalous. with makeup and hair dolled up, you grabbed the file from hotch and stopped.
“are you ready for this?” his questioned stems from protectiveness.
you nod. “i am.”
with the case file in hand, you head towards the interrogation room. you look nervous, like you don’t know if there's a hungry lion or bouquet of flowers on the other side.
but the second the door clicked shut, your demeanor changed.
“well hello pretty lady,” arthur greets almost immediately.
to the teams surprise, you giggle. “pretty?”
“very.”
a smile remains on your face as you sit down, case file placed on the table.
“now i have to ask, what’s a pretty lady like you doing with the fbi?” he muses.
you shrug, hand moving up to twirl a strand of hair. “i dunno,” you start. your tone is sweet, almost sickeningly. “my daddy wanted me to make something of myself. thought crime might be fun. i was actually excited to be asked to talk to you.”
this catches arthur’s attention.
“you interested in murder, little lady?”
you nod, pulling in your bottom lip as you lean forward. his eyes fall to your chest. it’s gross and subjective but expected.
“i asked my boss to let me talk to you,” you reveal. “i couldn’t help it. they all left for the day so i’m working off the clock for this.”
“off the clock?” arthur clicked his tongue twice. “eager girl.”
“yup,” you beam, popping the last letter. “i asked if i could film it but they said no. have to pay to record after hours i think.”
“i guess i’ll just have to make this moment last.”
you met his eyes, though not for too long to keep up your act.
“tell me about this?” you beg after opening the file, a pout passing your lips. “it’s so cool.”
arthur grins and at that moment, you know you have him right where you need him.
“well,” he starts, using two fingers to slide one of the pictures out. “that was lacy walker. ooh ooh ooh, she was sweet. screamed too. all the best ones scream.”
“these are all of your kills?” you hope your astonishment sounds genuine.
arthur grins. “only the public ones.”
only the public ones.
there’s more.
there’s more killings no one even knows about.
your head is spinning. you don’t even want to think about the reaction of the others behind the one-way glass. while you wanted to coerce more information out of him about it, you knew you would be pushing your luck.
instead, you roll your eyes and scoff. facade aside, you can’t help it.
“you know i thought criminals like you were smart.”
arthur freezes. “what?”
“i mean come on. are you really dumb enough to think that all of this isn’t being recorded?” the question hangs in the air. “because you just confessed to a hell of a lot of murders.”
he jumps up, realizing what he’s done. at the same time, you do too, slamming your hands on your desk. you stand taller, height not restricted by handcuffs connected to the table.
“that’s honestly just embarrassing,” you titter.
arthur yells the entire time it takes you to gather the file and walk ouit of the room, but it doesn’t impact you. you got a confession and you got it quick. someone else can deal with interrogating him on his other victims.
you don’t stop to talk to the team, though their faces show a range of emotions: proud, impressed, and a slight bit of panic, no doubt from the information you got out of arthur. after grabbing your cosmetics bag, you head to the bathroom. all of the team, besides one, has turned away at this point. you don’t even have to guess as to who keeps their gaze on you.
hotch sends everyone to the hotel to get some rest. interrogations on arthur’s other murders would wait until the following day.
no one was going to argue with that.
derek made his way to your hotel room that night. he mind was swirling with what he said to you earlier and especially after a not-so-nice talking to from emily, he needed to apologize.
you heard the knock on your door after you slipped a t-shirt on post shower. it was late and you were sure most of the team was asleep.
after checking the peephole, you hook a deep breath and opened the door.
“y/n,” derek greets.
it’s weird for him to be here, especially at this hour and especially after what went down earlier in the day.
“can i come in?”
you nod, opening the door a little wider for him to step in.
your eyes look at him quizzingly and derek swears he melts. if his guilt hadn’t reached the surface, it did now. eyes were always a weakness. when you didn’t talk, your eyes showed how you were feeling and right now, they’re filled with sadness.
“i wanted to apologize for what i said today,” he starts. “it was out of line. i shouldn’t have questioned your ability. I'm sorry.”
short and simple.
you stay quiet.
as much as you want to forgive him, tell him “it’s okay,” a simple ‘i’m sorry’ doesn’t fix things.
derek continues. “you deserve to be on this team, i shouldn’t have questioned that. i’m sorry, i really am. i like you,” you swear your heart stops. “i like working with you. i just hope you understand where i was coming from.”
that last part erases all prior apologies. seconds ago you would have placed money that there was an underlying confession in there. you would have gone to bed blushing and giggling over the possibility of requited feelings. how could you have understood where he was coming from?
your eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a thin line.
you rack your mind for something to say. you need him to know how he hurt you, but yelling isn’t something you do, especially at someone like derek.
the silence becomes unbearable even for him.
“god for once in your life can you please say something?” derek looks to the ceiling. “i’m trying to do the right thing here.”
each word stings more than the last.
he didn’t want to apologize for the things he said, but rather he felt like he had to.
“goodnight derek,” you whisper. anger bubbles but you don’t - can’t - lash out.
derek looks to you defeated. you know that’s not the response he was expecting.
the door closing after him rings in his ears even as he falls asleep.
____
hotch and rossi lead the interrogations the next day.
they’re the opposite of what you gave arthur. they’re strict and stern and get the information they need by early evening.
but it’s too late to fly home to washington.
when he makes the announcement that you would be staying in san jose until the following morning, spencer is nodding off on your shoulder and j.j. is slumped in a chair in the corner. everyone needs sleep.
you trudge into your hotel room, following the same routine as the prior night. a shower feels wonderful on your tired body.
ignoring derek isn’t ideal, but it’s necessary. it’s painful and hurts more every time you remember how much you like him. when spencer goes quiet, derek seems to understand, never pushing him to speak when he doesn’t want to. but for you, it’s different. why is it different?
that question racks your brain as you get dressed.
before you can crawl in bed, there’s another knock. this time you don’t even have to guess who it is.
“we need to talk,” derek pushes out.
everything inside of you is telling you not to open the door further, not to let him in. He didn’t even greet you this time. but you do, derek walking inside, though not moving past the space after the door.
“i know i apologized last night,” he cringes at his words. “well, attempted to apologize. i don’t have any excuses, really. the things about liking you and working with you, those we’re all true, i promise. i let my emotions get the best of me and i took it out on you. i know it doesn’t justify any of this but i wanted to apologize again.”
his apology is nice, it feels genuine but the question from earlier is eating you up and you can’t have it unanswered.
“why do you treat me differently than spencer?”
derek furrows his brow. “different?”
“every time he doesn’t talk, you don’t seem bothered. but when it’s me, it’s like my silence is the greatest inconvenience in the world to you.”
“oh.”
you suddenly feel small, like every instance you’ve picked up on never even happened.
it’s easier to drop your head, tap your fingers consistently on your palm and go quiet. always go quiet.
but derek doesn’t let you. his finger hooks under your chin to pull your face up to his.
“hey hey, don’t hide from me now.”
“i’m sorry,” you squeak.
“no need to apologize.”
his gaze is intimidating. you feel like he’s profiling you, the rule the team put in place seemingly not existing.
“i treat you differently because you’re you. i promise it’s not a bother, i just really really like your voice.”
your mouth parts. you don’t miss the flicker of derek’s eyes down to them. you know your expression is probably embarrassing right now, how in love you look. but you’re past embarrassment and you take your chances.
your kiss is soft and gentle, short and sweet.
derek isn’t expecting it. he thought you would’ve been a lot more upset, not using his mistakes as a reveal of your feelings. but in no matter does he mind. if he’s being honest, he’s waited for this moment for a while.
you pull away first, mouth opening to utter an apology but derek beats you to it, meeting your lips in a bruising kiss.
neither of you know if this would be your only kiss and it’s clear in the way he holds you.
you don’t part the entire way derek nudges you towards the bed. you fall first, him crawling on top. you pull back first. your breaths are heavy and your eyes never leave derek’s.
it’s expected that he would say something first, though you weren’t sure what he would say. are your feelings really the same? are you even allowed to date within the team?
but derek doesn’t verbalize any of that. his thumb moves to the space between your eyebrows, rubbing just slightly back and forth to ease the crinkle you developed from your overthinking. oh.
you know he still feels bad about his earlier words. but he kisses the tip of your nose before ducking down to your jawline, trailing kisses there.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” each apology is met with a kiss to your neck, almost as if he’s pressing his words into your skin.
and to his surprise, you giggle.
“stop apologizing.”
derek pulls back, eyes meeting yours.
your cheeks are rosy, lips plump from kissing. one hand rests on the spot beside your head, using it to hold himself up. derek’s other hand, previously on your hip, moves to cup your cheek.
“i think that might just be the most beautiful sound i’ve ever heard.”
and with that, his lips meet yours again.
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