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#listen when I say this has been the week from hell I mean that
sunshineandspencer · 3 days
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Glorified Assistant (Iridescent, Part 2)
A/N: This is more for Maeve and Spencer!! And honestly I hate writing enemies to lovers, I believe in makeout on sight, so enjoy me trying to make a believable hatred.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!OC.
Summary: She’s been given paid leave to basically be Spencer’s assistant, and it almost isn’t worth it.
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: swearing, spencer is an ass™
Parts: Pt1, Pt3
Let me stress, this is not Maeve from the show, but my own Maeve just named the same to send Spencer into hell whenever he thinks about it.
Here is more of Maeve and Spencer.
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Maeve thought she was home and free.
She hadn’t been fired (score!), and now Spencer was going away for his mandated thirty days off. Apparently he was doing some teaching at the local college, good for him, it also means they won’t have to interact and hopefully he gets his head out of his ass so that she doesn’t cry when they work together.
They’d left on a particularly sore note, considering that she’d been the one to drive him home and he made it very clear how much he hated the entire interaction.
Of course, he didn’t say a word, struggling to fit into her little, gorgeous dark blue mini and then clenching white-knuckled to his knees for the entire journey. He, actually, didn’t say a thing until he got out of the car, slamming the door shut and turning to scowl at her.
“You’re a fucking maniac. Take some more damn lessons.”
As he stormed off into his apartment, annoyingly only five minutes from her own building, she grumbled under her breath. She’d only grazed maybe one curb, and that wasn’t even her fault, it jumped out at her.
Whatever, she’d been able to sleep easy knowing that she wouldn’t have to see him for several more weeks, giving her time to prepare.
Until she was woken by her phone ringing at 5am, answering it blindly because she’s used to work calling her at stupid hours. It was her boss.. however, she was asked to take thirty days of paid leave - which she’s surprised the Bureau can even afford - to be the one to take Spencer too and from the college and just kind of shepherd him around for whatever he needed.
Apparently his car, old and vintage as it was, had been idle for too long and wouldn’t start. Since Spencer can’t be bothered to sort it out, and Maeve lives closest, and she’s his partner, obviously this falls to her to deal with.
Maeve, forever a pushover and unable to say no to any figure of authority, agreed and practically threw her phone across the room when she was done.
Understandably, she didn’t get any more sleep, getting ready for the day with the only solace that he looks like an idiot in her car. Making them both a coffee and putting them into her reusable travel cups, trying not to listen to the little voice telling her to drive into a wall.
After about ten minutes of calling him and getting no answer, she gets out of her illegally parked car and storms up. Although it’s really hard to storm anywhere in an elevator.
Hammering on his door, it took all of two seconds before it flew open and he barged past her, causing her to scowl over at him.
“Damn! Watch it! What’s your problem today?”
He barely looked at her, locking the door behind her as he struggled with a bunch of papers in his hands. A harsh frown on his face that matched his equally-pissed voice.
“Fucking coffee machine broke.”
“I got you one already, Christ..” Sucking in a breath and following after him as he goes for the stairs, thankfully he only lives on the third floor. “What’s with the papers?”
Spencer went ahead of her on the stairs, and she found herself rushing after him and his stupidly long legs. Cursing him with all the colourful words that she knows on her way after him.
“Car insurance, I’m driving today.”
Insurance? He got insured on her car without telling her? All to avoid her driving. This man is a level of petty that teenage girls aspire to be, and she has to resist the urge to pout as she trailed out of the building after him.
“But why? My driving wasn’t--”
“Stop asking so many questions and get in your little clown car.”
Quietly fuming, she didn’t even thank him as he held open the passenger door for her, sliding into the seat and picking up her coffee. Drinking it and trying to squash the thoughts of throttling him.
As he gets into the driver seat and immediately starts rearranging everything, her mirrors, seat, radio, she wonders just how long it would take for someone to realise that he’s missing.
Before he even drove off, gripping the wheel far too hard for her liking, he spoke lowly and glared ahead. As if he was stopping himself from glaring at her.
“Don’t come up to my apartment again. I will come to you. I expect you to be ready by six thirty, and since you have a working machine, you can make the coffees.”
“.. just drive already.”
She’s going to kill him by the end of this.
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Considering she got paid to leave to, essentially, be Spencer’s glorified assistant, she decided to make the most of it.
Plus, annoyingly, his lectures are actually pretty interesting - as much as she tried to stop giving a shit. Between running to get him more coffees, again assistant, and handing out things to the students, she gets to sit and just listen to him talk about whatever content he chooses.
Psychopaths, mainly, their brains and behaviours, which she enjoyed immensely when she studied psychology and criminology. Damn, but.. he’s really good to listen to.
By the third lecture of the day, she was sat at the desk to the side of the platform, usually reserved for teaching assistants, scribbling in a pretty lilac notebook she bought from the student store. Taking actual notes for his lecture, thoroughly enjoying the content of the lecture and not the fact that it’s Spencer.
Spencer had noticed, immediately, of course, and hated it. 
He doesn’t know what she’s hoping to achieve, or prove, because it definitely isn’t impressing him, and he can’t fathom the idea that she’s doing the work to just do the work. Why would she, after he’s purposely been an ass to her purely for existing.
There’s no way she’s actually just paying attention.
So, to test her, for his own morbid curiosity and the need to try and embarrass her in front of all these people, he decided it would be fun to throw random questions to her. Not even related to the topic he was covering. To him, she doesn’t seem like the kind of person to handle stress well.
As he proposed hypothetical questions to the students, he turned to Maeve with a grin on his face, which she finds much more unnerving than a scowl. Hands clapping together as he brought all the attention onto her.
“And for my.. assistant.” Oh, yeah, she absolutely hates that, even more than his smug little grin. “What are the disadvantages of Mary Ainsworth’s study when examining infant attachment?”
Now it was time for her own smug little grin to settle on her lips, which he certainly didn’t like the implications of.
It was clear that he hadn’t expected her to know the answer, or even have enough of a knowledge base to even remotely know what he was talking about. Thankfully she had always been a pushover, and when her friends begged for her to sit in on their presentations in college, she learnt a lot. Especially the ones who presented developmental psychology.
Also, a few times she opted to speak in front of lectures purely because she felt bad for the lecturers when no one would volunteer, which meant she was quickly forced to grow out of her fear of public speaking. Leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, getting comfortable.
“Mary Ainsworth was American. And she made an American based model, off American children and families, testing it solely in America. It cannot be generalised to other countries.”
“But-”
He tried to cut her off, but she wasn’t done yet. That wasn’t nearly enough to feel like she’d finally won something between them.
“And. When it was, by Kroonenberg and Ijzendoorn, it was proven to have terrible generalisation. Because other cultures and countries have very different ways of rearing children that don’t fit her American guidelines.”
Spencer looked like he wanted to vault the desk and strangle her, and if it weren’t for the crowd of whispering students, he probably would’ve done. Giving him a soft smile, which only he knew was completely fake, she picked her pen back up and tapped her notebook.
“If that’s all, Doctor Reid, I was enjoying your lecture on psychopathic brains.”
And as she looks back down, he has to force himself to continue lecturing to curb the rumours he can hear being created by suddenly-dejected female students. Trying not to sigh at the knowledge that people are going to think they’re sleeping together.
Throwing one last glare her way, not even needing his profiling to know that she so gets off on calling him ‘Doctor Reid’. The simultaneous irritation and begrudging admiration was making him dizzy, wanting nothing more to chuck something at her head.
Whatever, on the way home, he’ll take the longest route he knows to run her petrol down to nothing. Anything to get another mental tally on their growing rivalry.
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Want more?! Good!
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butmakeitgayblog · 2 years
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i miss cl clexa ):
I know dude really, I need to write the honeymoon and the I love you part 3. It'll get done it will
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cupid-styles · 26 days
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brat (sex columnist!harry x best friend!y/n)
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in which y/n is best friends with harry, a sex columnist, who needs a little help answering a reader's question.
word count: 3k
content warnings: SMUT!!!! (mean dom/bratty sub dynamic, dirty talk, pussy spanking, paddling, sir kink, degradation, slight edging, fingering)
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
“You’re out of your mind.”
“I’m really not.”
“No, but you are.”
“It would be for work and work only—”
“I don’t care.”
Harry sighs as he lifts a hand to run it through his curly hair. The noisy puff of air is filled with unsaid annoyance and Y/N tries her best not to roll her eyes at her best friend’s stubbornness, instead focusing on toying with the bracelet around her wrist. Instead of replying, he quickly runs his fingertips over the trackpad on his laptop so it glows back to life. 
“Can you at least hear me out?” he asks, his tone teetering on a polite plea, “You know writing about sex is my job. How am I supposed to help this person out when I can’t even offer a fair answer?”
Y/N crosses her arms and shrugs and Harry wishes he could reach across the couch and push them to her sides. 
“What makes you think I have any experience being a sub, anyway?” she fires back, keeping her eyes glued on the TV in front of them.
They're currently binging the newest season of The Bachelor, but Harry was more so using the dialogue and Y/N’s periodic gasps as background noise. For the past year or so, he’s held down a job at an online publication as a sex columnist. He loves it — people write in anonymously, asking him questions about everything from premature ejaculation to open relationships. Under the pen name H.E. Bell, he gets paid to write lengthy, thoughtful responses, helping his readers with approaching whatever sexual issue they’re facing. And this week, his editor really wants him to address a particular question about a dominant and submissive relationship. 
The thing is, though, is the letter comes from a sub. And Harry’s a dom. 
A mean one, at that.
So while Y/N’s diving into a pint of her favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (Phish Food, obviously), and Harry’s trying his best — and miserably failing — to place himself in the shoes of his submissive reader, he knows what he has to do.
“I hate to tell you, but you scream submissive,” Harry replies, pushing his laptop off of the couch and onto the coffee table. “Don’t even try to deny it. Just… just hear me out. Please. My deadline’s tomorrow afternoon.”
Y/N lets out an irritated huff as she grabs the TV remote and presses pause. Silently, she sits back against the couch, facing her best friend, and shoots him a displeased expression; a wordless allowance to speak. 
“I’m a dom and I’ve literally always been that way. You’re a sub, through-and-through. This person is asking about situations pertaining to experience as a submissive, and I can’t really provide them with the advice that they’re looking for since I’ve never been in that headspace.”
Y/N shrugs carelessly. She’s unbothered by his frank analysis of her subordinate behavior — it’s not exactly surprising that Harry, the sex columnist, is able to identify a sub, dom, or switch from 10 miles away. But that doesn’t mean she has to get dragged into his research, or whatever the hell he was trying to play it off as.
“Why don’t you just skip the question, then?” Y/N asks. “If you don’t have the right resources to offer an answer—”
“My editor thinks it’ll bring in a lot of page views,” he says, his throat bobbing with a swallow. His eyebrows draw together some, creating a small worried wrinkle between them. “Listen, I’ll fuck off if you’re totally uncomfortable with helping me, but you’re my best friend and I don’t know who else I could ask with this short of a timeframe.”
She sighs and brings her knees up to her chest. 
“Fine. Read me the question.”
A grin breaks out on Harry’s face as he grabs his laptop. He taps on the trackpad a few times as he brings the email up on the screen, eyes scanning over his bright inbox. 
“Okay, here’s what they said,” he clears his throat and Y/N really does roll her eyes this time, “Dear H.E.— I’ve been in a sexual relationship with my dominant for three months. Up until now, we’ve clicked really well. The chemistry is great and we always mesh really well both during scenes and aftercare. But lately, I’m worried I’ve been a little too bratty. For context, I’m a bratty sub with an attitude, but my dom knew that going into this. I fear that they’ll grow tired of my nonsense and insistent disobedience, but when I’m in my subspace or engaging in a scene with them, it’s hard for me to pull away from it. What should I do? Do you have any advice for what I can do as a sub to best help my dom?”
Y/N’s plucking at her bottom lip as Harry glances up from his computer. Blinking, she thinks for a moment before crafting a response.
“Well, it sounds like the sub needs to communicate their feelings to their dom. There seems to be a lot of insecurity.” she says. He hums, nodding his head as he types a few words on his keyboard. 
“Yeah, that’s true,” he murmurs, “They said it’s hard for them not to be in that bratty headspace, though.”
She shrugs, “I mean, if you’re a bratty sub, you’re a bratty sub. That’s just who you are.”
“Do you think there are any punishments that would work, then?”
“You’re the dom, shouldn’t you be able to answer that question?”
“I guess,” he replies, running his palm over the short bit of facial hair that’s grown on his chin in the past few days. “Spanking, edging, overstimulation, types of shibari, I guess…”
Y/N’s thighs squeeze involuntarily.
“...I just don’t know what works best.” he finishes his sentence, halting the tapping of his fingertips over the keyboard. “What do you think?”
She forces a swallow to coat her dry throat. “It depends.” she pushes out.
“Well, what works for you?”
She thinks for a moment. It’s been a minute since she’s been in a proper dominant/submissive dynamic — the last few times she’s had sex have all been one night stands and quick flings, all of which don’t allow enough time to learn about hard limits, punishments, and safe words. Her brain has to float back to a year ago, when she was sleeping with Reese, a soft dom who tried his best to tame her bratty nature but came back empty every time. He was good — the sex was good, but she wanted — no, needed — more.
“I don’t think I’ve ever really had a dominant… achieve that, I guess,” she mumbles thoughtfully. “I mean, I know what I like, as far as punishments go. But it’s not really about what the submissive likes, is it?”
“No,” Harry agrees. He hums as he opens up a second tab and she watches as he types the words “punishments for submissives” into the search engine. She sniffles and attempts to disregard the way her core instantly clenches. 
He’s silent as he reads through a few lists, occasionally jotting down some notes into his Google doc. Y/N swallows noisily when he glances back up at her, this time prepared with an apparent list of proposed consequences. 
“Okay, can you just tell me which ones you think most submissives would be fine with?”
She nods.
“Withgoing underwear in public?”
“Mhm.”
“Pussy spanking?”
“Yeah.”
“Nipple wax play?”
“Depends on the sub’s pain tolerance, but um… yeah.”
“Paddling?”
“I actually haven’t done that one before.”
Harry’s eyebrows raise. 
“No?”
She shakes her head. “None of my doms have ever had one.”
“Doesn’t sound like they were proper doms, then.”
“They’ve all been on the softer side,” Y/N explains shyly. “But… yeah. I guess it’s always something I’ve wanted to try.”
“Is it?” 
She can tell by the way his eyes have darkened, that there’s something wicked stirring in that brain of his. She knows she can put a stop to this now if she wants — he’s her best friend and he wouldn’t care if she ended the conversation here and now. 
But she doesn’t.
Not for a second.
So instead she nods. And she’s completely unsurprised by the next sentence that falls from his lips.
“Do you want to try it now?”
By now, Y/N’s brain is all fuzzy and melty, so she doesn’t even think before she’s nodding her head eagerly. Harry chuckles and closes his laptop, shuffling onto his knees to lean forward and pluck at her bottom lip. A smirk curves at his mouth as she leans into his touch.
“Getting quite desperate on me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, cradling her cheek into his palm. “Get naked for me then and I’ll go get the paddle. No touching while I’m gone.”
Her stomach flips at the domineering tone in his voice. All too quickly, they’ve fallen into their most intimate roles, and Harry’s carrying himself to his bedroom as Y/N continues sitting there, all gooey-eyed and foggy. And maybe he should have expected it when he returns back to the living room a few moments later to see her sprawled out across the length of the couch, her bralette and underwear still on with her fingers tucked beneath the waistband of the fabric.
“Kitten,” Harry all but growls, making Y/N shiver at the pet name, “Are you already disobeying me?”
She hums as she watches him through half-lidded eyes, soft fingertips petting at her pearled clit. His eyes glimpse down at the tented material and he instantly sets the dark red paddle down on the carpeted floor, kneeling between her legs.
“What’s your color?” he breathes, locking a hand around her ankle. Her pussy quivers just from the simple grasp.
“Green,” she answers, “I’ll tell you if anything changes. Safe word is licorice.”
Harry nods, allowing his large hands to float up her legs. They reach the gusset of her sodden underwear and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, snapping the fabric against her swollen pussy.
“Take your hand out of your panties now and I won’t smack your pussy until she’s raw.”
Y/N doesn’t move. In fact, he thinks her circling fingers only quicken.
“I’ll give you one last warning,” he grits out, squeezing the flesh of her thighs, “I’m not a nice dominant. You won’t be able to walk if you keep going against me.”
But of course, her hand stays glued to the bundle of nerves. Instead, she breathes out a sultry response: “Think I could cum like this, having you watch me.”
In a moment, her cotton underwear is being ripped from her body and thrown aside. He’s swift in his movements as he collects her wrists in his palm, squeezing them harshly and throwing them up, high above her body. She gasps, noisy and wet.
“I don’t fuck around with brats like you for a reason.” 
The first spank he issues to her puffy pussy is quick and fleeting, hardly offering a lick of pain. He’s eager to find where her pain threshold lies; if she’s all talk or if she can take the full force of his large palm. By the time he lands the sixth one, her skin now reddening beneath his smacks, he thinks he’s found it and he admits, he’s relatively impressed. 
“Aw, did that one hurt?” Harry mocks, watching as her face twists in an expression of discomfort. “That’s because punishments are meant to be mean. You’re not supposed to enjoy them, little brat. You’ve had it too easy, hm?”
“H-haven’t,” she stutters out, wincing as he delivers a seventh, “I’m good, sir, I swear—”
“Oh, bull-fuckin’-shit,” he retorts. “You’re a silly little brat is what you are.”
“‘m not—”
Smack—
“You are.”
She whines until he reaches the tenth one. She’s a wiggly mess of sniffles and whimpers and he shushes her, brushing a thumb over her clit. She gasps lowly and he laughs.
“On your belly.”
This time, Y/N doesn’t defy him and Harry is admittedly surprised. She buries her face in the throw pillow and he rolls his eyes at the theatrics. Before picking the paddle up off the floor, his blunt fingertips scratch at her scalp, gentle and kind as they trail down to the nape of her neck. 
“What’s your color, kitten?” he asks softly, rubbing a docile palm over her bare ass.
“Green, sir.”
“Do you still want to try the paddle?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay,” he murmurs, “We’ll start with five and then see where you’re at. You know what to say if you want me to stop, right?”
“Red or licorice, sir.”
“Good girl.”
Since it’s her first time, he decides to ease her into it. He uses only a smidgen of his strength to smack the paddle against the thick of her cheek, watching as the wood ricochets. Her skin jiggles in response and he swallows, noting the way her nails already dig into the couch.
The second and third are just as light but he adds a bit more pressure to the fourth and fifth. When he’s finished, he rubs over the flush skin, slow and intentional.
“How was that?” he asks. 
“Good,” she replies, her voice slightly muffled from the pillow, “I can take more.”
A hand quickly finds its way to the back of her neck and her eyes instantly widen. He shifts her head, smushing her cheek into the soft fabric so her voice is no longer dulled. 
“Need to hear you loud and clear,” Harry says. “And now you’ll count for me.”
When the oak paddle makes contact with her ass for the sixth time, she grits her teeth but still calls out the number. She follows suit for the next five and, while it’s painful and harsh in the most uncomfortable of ways, she’d be lying if she said her skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. She’s burning for him, feeling her arousal leak down between the apex of her thighs with every last spank. 
“Good job, kitten,” Harry announces, dropping the paddle at the end of the set. “You did good, hm? Did the bratty girl learn her lesson?”
Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in a pout when his soft palms begin to soothe her aching bum. He instantly takes notice, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion. 
“Can’t give you anymore tonight, kitten. It was only your first time.”
Instead of replying, she simply shakes her head.
“Use your words. I’m not a mindreader, brat.”
Swallowing, she lifts her head up slightly, only enough to give her a peek of Harry’s concerned expression. 
“W-wanna cum,” she mumbles, blinking at him, “Will you make me cum, sir?”
And instead of immediately getting what she wants, Harry does the unthinkable.
He rolls his eyes.
“You act like a slutty brat all night, begging to get paddled, and now you want me to make you cum?” 
She nods, ashamed and embarrassed.
“What the fuck makes you think you deserve that?”
“I-I took my spankings and paddlings without complaining. And I didn’t disobey you a-after that.”
“But you did defy me to begin with, didn’t you?” he pushes, weaving his hand into the hair at the back of her head. His fist tightens and he lifts her head so her neck cranes back. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And now you want to cum.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But not only do you want to cum— you want me to make you cum.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fine then,” he decides, sitting down and leaning back against the couch cushions. “Come here. Straddle me.”
She forces herself onto her knees and ignores the way her ass and pussy both sting from her punishments. Right now, all she can focus on is her buzzing clit and its need for attention. 
She does as she’s told and splits her thighs to fit his own legs between them. Almost instantly, he cups a hand beneath her mouth and glares at her expectantly. 
“Spit, brat. Are you dumb?”
She shakes her head, allowing saliva to pool behind her lips before spitting it into his palm. With his eyes staring into hers, he lowers his spit-slick hand down to her mound and pushes a finger inside of her. Immediately, she clenches around it, her eyes threatening to flutter shut.
“Keep them open,” he instructs, “Jesus, your cunt is already milking me.”
She swallows and forces herself to maintain eye contact with the man sitting before her. He’s merciless in his ministrations, especially when he nestles a second, then a third finger and curls them up to her most sensitive spot. Her hands form tight fists as she grinds against his hand, moaning loudly when his thumb reaches her clit. 
“What a desperate little pussy,” he murmurs, speeding up the tight circles over the swollen bundle of nerves, “You like getting stretched out, don’t you? Say it.”
“I-I love when you stretch me out, sir.”
“Of course you do,” he smirks viciously, “Is your cunt gonna cum like this?”
“Y-yes, sir—”
“Ask for permission first, kitty.”
“Please sir, can I cum? P-please?”
She’s whimpery and mewling as she bounces helplessly on his fingers, the ribbon in her lower stomach threatening to unravel at any given moment. He hums, stilling the digits inside of her.
“Hold it.”
“Sir—”
“Hold it, brat.”
Her pussy clenches around him but she does. She restrains herself until he finally allows the ribbon to come undone, a slew of whines and curses sounding from her plush lips as she does.
It feels like it goes on forever but when the pleasure finally ceases, she collapses into his chest. Harry gently pulls his fingers from her center and wraps an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze. 
He lets her stay like that for a bit and, maybe selfishly, he enjoys having her limp, exhausted body so close to his. 
“Gotta clean you up and rub some salve on your bum,” he finally manages out, ducking down to whisper the words in her ear. 
Tiredly, she nuzzles her head against his shoulder. “Five more minutes?”
He swallows. 
He doesn’t think she’s in her subspace, but he knows she’s sleepy and fuzzy from the mix of pain and pleasure he just instilled on her body.
And so for that, he’ll give her five more minutes.
Six, if she’s lucky.
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tootiecakes234 · 4 months
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I just know you would receive “gifts” from Katsuki all the time. They’d be little things to make your life easier that you didn’t even know you needed.
You like to read at night to unwind, but sometimes it’ll be a really good book so you want to stay up reading it. The thing is you don’t wanna bother Katsuki cuz you know he has a strict bedtime. This means often times you’ll stay a little longer in the living room reading as to not bother him.
One night you’re getting ready for bed when you see a box next to your bed.
“Hey Kat, is this yours?”, you say loud enough for him to hear you in the bathroom.
He peaks his head out the door and says, “No, I ordered it for you.” And then goes back to what he was doing.
You sit on the edge of the bed and open it up. It’s a reading light with a dampener so you can adjust the brightness.
He comes dragging his little slippered feet towards his side of the bed.
“Now you can keep your ass in bed. Tired of waking up and you being asleep on the couch. I’m an old man, I can’t keep carrying you to bed.”
You look at him with a bright smile on your face.
“You know you can just say, you like me being in the bed with you while you’re sleeping. You know, because I’m your big bad protector and I make you feel safe.”
“There is no talking to you sometimes you know that?”
It’s winter time and you always have your gloves on because you HATE your fingers being cold. The only problem is of course you have to remove said gloves to use your phone when you’re out and that SUCKS.
You’re out with him one day and you’ve been texting back and forth with Mina because her and her girlfriend are in an argument and she of course comes to you about it.
You are always there for your friend so you’ve been removing and putting on your gloves over and over again until Katsuki can’t stand it anymore.
You’re outside on a bench waiting for him while he runs into some shop when he comes back out he snatches your phone out of your hand.
“What the hell? I’m usin-“ you start shouting at him.
“ give me those shitty gloves and put these on. I’m sick of watching you struggle.”
When you look down you see a pair of gloves in your favorite color.
“How are these any different from the ones I have now, Mr. Know-it-all”
He smirks at you, “These gloves are thicker than those thin ones you use AND they work on smart phones.. so yea. I do know it all.”
“Oh…. Well thanks I guess” you murmur lowly.
“Now you can talk Racoon eyes through her mental breakdowns without getting frost bite in your fingers.”he says then hands you back your phone. “She deserve better than that idiot anyways. Don’t why she keeps putting up with it.”
Katsuki is leaving for a mission today and you’ve been so gloomy. He gonna be gone at least 3 days, maybe even the whole week.
You’re been wrapped around him like ivy since you woke up this morning.
“Listen woman, I have to go. You do this every time.”he says with his arms wrapped around you waist pulling you even more flush against him.
“You should clone yourself or something. Who am I gonna cuddle with now?? And who is gonna cook for me?? I’ll die of starvation before you get back. Is that what you want. To come home to a dead girlfriend???”
“You are so damn dramatic. Cuddle with the damn plethor of plushies you have in my goddamn bed. And as far as food… you won’t starve. You’ll just eat out everyday and I’ll come back to you complaining you’ve gained weight when you look the exact same.”
“I do not.”, you start to object.
“Yes you do. Which is why I made a few meals and froze them.” He says all smug, cuz he knows that would surprise you.
“You what??” You ask looking up at him with wide eyes.
“There’s a pot pie and dumplings. I even stored a lasagna in there.” Then his phone buzzes letting him know his ride is downstairs.
“Ok I gotta go. I love you.” And he bends down to give you a deep kiss. “Be safe. Call Eiji if you need anything and try not to burn the house down before I get back.”
“I love you too. Come back to me in one piece please.”
He smiles at you, “always”
He kisses you one more time and then heads to the car.
You go directly to the fridge to see the frozen meals he left you. And not only are the packages all neatly but he’s left the heating instructions on top for you.
To say there were tears shed would be an understatement.
Katsuki Masterlist
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waterhousse · 1 month
Text
I Saw Her For the First Time
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I saw her for the first time, and I was lonely for the last time
Pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader
Summary: you’re practically the girl of her dreams. it’s a shame her friend saw you first.
Author’s note: HELLO i’m back at it again with pure fluff. i didn’t know exactly how to label this one so i just put modern ellie but it has a little bit of guitarist ellie and also nerdy ellie. hope you like it !
Photo creds: elliesxgun and vamp4r3 on pinterest :)
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I stand with Palestine, you should too.
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• • • •
ellie was absentmindedly playing a made-up melody on her guitar, softly strumming away as she listened to the conversation her friends were having. lisa, her roomate and vocalist of her band, was telling everyone about the new girl she had been talking to. it was the first time she heard your name.
"she's hot,” was dina's final veredict once she was done scrolling through your profile. she passed the phone to jesse, who immediately agreed.
“i know. she’s really cool and funny but she’s really into comics and fantasy movies and i don’t know shit about that.”
"so, she's a nerd."
"basically, but a pretty one. it’s just that ninety percent of the time i don't know what the hell she's talking about." lisa's complaint was followed by a tired sigh as she threw her head back on the couch. then, she looked to her side, where ellie was. "she reminds me of you, actually."
she instantly frowned, "are you calling me a nerd?"
“i mean…” jesse trailed off before dodging the water bottle ellie threw at him.
"you like all those things, right? maybe you could help me with her."
"help you how, exactly?"
"well, i kinda already told her i like all of what she mentioned so whenever that comes up you'll take over and say whatever makes me look cool."
"what's in it for me?"
ellie sat emotionless as her friend began listing everything she could do for her in exchange for her help, such as deep cleaning the apartment or buying her favorite snacks every day.
she let out a low whistle, “someone's desperate.”
“dude—”
“why can’t you just talk to her about something else?”
“because i already told her i liked all of that stuff! keep up.” lisa rolled her eyes. “tell me if it’s not worth it.” she quickly typed in your instagram username and passed the phone to her.
ellie’s eyes almost widened at the sight of you, but she managed to mask her reaction just in time. she silently scrolled down your instagram profile, clicking on the posts that caught her attention the most.
"so, what do you think?"
"uh, she's alright."
you were more than alright.
"you have such high standards,” dina huffed.
yes, and you apparently met them all.
lisa snatched the phone back from her hands as the group began discussing a new topic; ellie’s picky taste in women, even when they practically threw themselves at her. it had been a while since her friends last saw her on a date or even having a crush.
ellie threw her head back with a groan as she stood up from the couch, “are you going to keep talking about me or are we gonna rehearse?”
their band was a regular on friday nights at one of their town’s most popular bars. over the time they had been playing there, they had gathered an audience of people that went to see them. ellie would hate to disappoint them, or maybe she just hated when the conversation was centered around her.
“i think we’re gonna keep talking about you,” dina joked as she picked up her bass.
once rehearsal was over, lisa practically ran to her phone to check if she had any new messages from you. apparently, she had asked to go on a date next week and you had said yes.
“you’re gonna to have to teach me everything you know,” lisa mumbled to ellie with her eyes glued to the phone as she quickly typed her reply to you.
“great, just how i wanted to spend my free time.”
even though ellie had no real interest in doing that favor to her friend, she stuck to her word. whenever the “nerdy topics”, has lisa had called them, came up, she took over the conversation. that part of the plan wasn’t awful, in fact, ellie secretly enjoyed the moments she got to talk to you, but she had to keep reminding herself that you weren’t actually talking to her, but lisa.
it had been a confusing last couple of days.
“just try to not let those topics come up in the conversation and if they do, just agree with everything she says,” ellie advised lisa, because not even her intensive teaching could help the poor girl to memorize anything. “re-read the conversations i had with her. that could work. especially the one we're having right now."
“you’re trying to sound like me, right?”
“sure, i’m making some spelling mistakes and everything.”
“fuck you,” lisa laughed from the bathroom. “alright, tell her i’m on my way.”
“remember to read the last few messages in case she brings them up.”
“thanks, el. see you later!” and with that, she was out of their shared apartment.
ellie sighed, dramatically plopping down on the couch. she swept her gaze over the living room in hopes to find something to do to keep her mind occupied, but nothing seemed appealing enough. she used her phone for a bit, but she couldn’t fully concentrate on what she was seeing.
after tossing and turning for a while, she ended up falling asleep. it wasn’t until two hours later she was suddenly woken up by lisa’s voice mixed with somebody else’s. the sound of the door shutting closed was what made her fully open her eyes, instantly setting them on the two people that had just entered the apartment.
“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up,” lisa apologized, but ellie didn’t even acknowledge her. instead, she looked past her friend to the person behind her.
you were standing there, an apologetic and slightly embarrassed look on your face. “i didn’t mean to intrude, i’m sorry.”
ellie sat up straight, her fingers combing through her short hair in an attempt to make herself more presentable. “it’s fine, don’t worry.”
an adorable smile formed on your lips, “you’re ellie, right?”
you didn’t wait for her confirmation and proceeded to introduce yourself while she thought about how crazy it was that you didn’t know how many times you two had already spoken.
ellie remained silent, watching you smile shyly at her. then, she realized she hadn’t said anything in a while and it was probably really weird. “it— it’s really nice to meet you.”
“i’m going to the bathroom, i’ll be right back,” lisa said before gesturing you to take a seat on the couch.
hesitantly, you sat down next to ellie. there was another moment of silence in which you looked at her with uncertainty, fearing she might be uncomfortable with your presence. you didn’t know if it’d be best for you to talk to her or to just wait for lisa to come back, not wanting things to get even more awkward.
when ellie returned one of your quick glances, you decided to say something.
“sorry about coming here without letting you know first. i can’t go home yet, my roommate has a guy over,” you admitted with a grimace.
ellie nodded, laughing softly at the reason you were there. “i don’t mind, really.”
“thanks, anyway,” you grinned.
“so, how’d the date go?”
“uh, good.” your answer wasn’t completely honest, ellie could tell. she narrowed your eyes at you, not wanting to pry but at the same time dying to know.
“are you sure about that?”
“you’re her friend, i can’t gossip about her with you.”
“we’re actually not that close.”
you playfully bumped your shoulder into hers before your eyes set on her for a few seconds. she tilted her head as she returned your gaze, silently trying to convince you to talk.
“i don’t know if you’re very persuasive or if i’m just too weak.”
ellie’s smile widened as you sighed, giving in.
“i had a great time,” you began, searching for the right words to say, “but we didn’t hit it off as well as we did through text.”
“that’s weird.” her mumbled words were followed by an awkward chuckle.
“yeah, i know. don’t get me wrong, though, she’s great, but it felt like i was hanging out with a friend. that spark, i guess, you hope to feel on a first date just wasn’t there.”
ellie nodded as she took your words in. “i’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
“oh, it’s fine. we talked about it on the way here. it’s all good. actually, she invited me to see you guys play on friday. you’re the guitarist, right?”
“yeah,” ellie smiled proudly, sitting more comfortably on the couch. “we’re really good. well, you’ll see for yourself. don’t wanna get your expectations too high.”
“it might be a little too late for that,” you replied just as lisa came back.
there was a smile on her lips, she had managed to hear the last bit of the conversation. “we’re great, actually.”
you hummed, “we’ll see.”
“hey, want me to show you the records i was telling you about?”
“can you tell me where the bathroom is, first?”
“sure, it’s the door at the end of the hallway. come to my room afterwards.”
“got it.” you nodded as you stood up from the couch, ellie’s curious eyes following you.
she looked away just in time, because lisa’s gaze fell upon her the moment you were out of sight. “what do you think?”
“she’s cool. plus, she friendzoned you so i gotta give her more points for that.”
“she did not friendzone me!” she protested in a hushed voice. “we friendzoned each other, it was a mutual decision.”
“sure, lis, whatever you say.” ellie went to her room immediately after that, not giving her a chance to defend herself.
she was feeling strangely happy about the outcome of lisa’s date. her friend had always been a player, taking advantage of her ‘rockstar’ status. ellie had done that, too, but lisa loved to be involved with multiple people at the same time. with the short interactions ellie had shared with you, she knew you deserved better than that.
ellie opened her bedroom door as she hummed a melody, not expecting to have company. you were by her bed, closely inspecting one of her action figures. she stood under the doorframe, momentarily frozen at the sight. then, a soft chuckle escaped her lips, alerting you of her presence.
“i’ve been meaning to get this for a while—” you began saying, stopping yourself mid-sentence once you looked up and realized that it was ellie the one standing there and not lisa. “oh, hey. what’s up?”
ellie just smiled as she made her way to her bed under your confused stare. “nothing much,” ellie casually replied as she threw herself on the bed. “just love the comfort of my room, y’know?”
your eyebrows rose slightly, immediately leaving the action figure where you found it, “your room? i’m sorry! there were stickers on the door of lisa’s favorite characters—”
ellie laughed as you kept apologizing. she propped herself onto her elbows, waiting for you to be done with your rambling.
“i promise i didn’t touch anything else.”
“it’s okay, i don’t mind,” ellie answered with a half-smile.
“so, this stuff is all yours?” you asked, sweeping your gaze around the room. it was decorated with a bunch of fantasy movies posters and, on the shelves, there were different book collections as well as many other action figures of, coincidentally, most of your favorite characters.
“uh, yeah.”
“i see…” you hummed before your eyes met hers again.
ellie swallowed hard, her confidence quickly fading away. “lisa and i have practically the same taste,” she was quick to explain, hoping you wouldn’t catch the pathetic quiver on her voice.
“right… okay, i’ll see you friday, then?”
“yeah, see you friday.”
you gave her one last smile before stepping out of her room. it wasn’t until she was alone that she became aware of her racing heart. she laid back on the bed, bringing her hands to her face as she let out a heavy sigh.
that night, ellie fell asleep trying to convince herself that you hadn’t figured out she was behind some of lisa’s texts, that you hadn’t been capable of reading her that well after that short conversation.
ellie woke up the next day ready to avoid thinking about the issue as much as she could, but the universe seemed to conspire against her.
the band was having a break from rehearsal, each of them sprawled around jesse’s garage. ellie had taken her friend’s place behind the drums, absentmindedly playing a beat that faltered when dina brought up your name in a conversation she wasn’t even participating in.
“she’s coming to see us play even after you fucked up the date? woah, maybe i underestimated you.”
“i didn’t fuck up the date.” lisa rolled her eyes.
ellie snickered from her place, “then why were you back at the apartment at, like, 10 p.m?”
“whatever. we both decided it was best for us to stay as friends.”
“i believe you, don’t worry.” jesse gave her a pat on her back before mouthing ‘i don’t’ to ellie and dina, who secretly laughed. “okay, ladies, let’s get back to work. we don’t wanna make ourselves look bad infront of lisa’s new friend, right?”
“yeah, she’s got pretty high expectations,” ellie mentioned as she picked up her guitar. the smile on her face didn’t go unnoticed by her friends.
“you talked to her?”
she looked up at dina’s question, who was staring at her, intrigued. ellie frowned, her guitar pick between her teeth as she tied her hair up in a short, low ponytail.
“yeah, why? i’m not some antisocial freak, y’know?”
“every time i take someone home you lock yourself in your room until they leave,” lisa snorted.
“this time i was caught by surprise. i wasn’t expecting you to come back so early,” ellie chuckled at the last part.
“fuck you, ellie,” lisa complained. “y’know what? let’s just get this over with before i stick this microphone up your—”
“okay, fine, fine. calm down.”
rehearsal went by smoothly with the four of them behaving as profesional as they could, sometimes jesse went off beat to annoy them or ellie would zone out in the middle of a song. still, they had mastered their set and they were definitely ready to play, but there was a deep, strange feeling inside ellie.
it took her a while to figure out she was nervous about the upcoming show. it had been a while since that happened to her, so it was extremely weird for her. the anxiety stayed with her until the following day, and it had actually gotten worse.
ellie ended up going on stage with that horrible feeling still present in the pit of her stomach. she tried to remind herself that it was just another show but, at the same, she knew it wasn’t. knowing you’d be in the audience had definitely affected her, but she didn’t want to look further into what that could possibly mean.
maybe she didn’t come, the thought came to mind in an attempt of calming herself down. perhaps if she repeated it enough she’d fool herself into thinking it was actually true.
she was obviously wrong.
you were there, tapping your fingers against the drink you had ordered. just as you were taking a sip, the lights dimmed and the loud chatter became whispering voices that were soon interrupted by the sound of a guitar.
four spotlights shone brightly on the band and you quickly recognized the other two members you had yet to meet. dina on the bass and jesse on the drums. lisa was at the front, she moved confidently on stage, but your eyes inevitably fell on the girl behind her.
ellie was bobbing her head to the beat of the song, eyes glued to the floor. your mouth opened slightly at the sight, it was hypnotic seeing her play. you inhaled deeply, unable to tear your gaze away from her.
it wasn’t until the ending of the second song ellie first looked up. it was only a quick glance at the crowd, but her eyes coincidentally landed on you, making her do a quick double-take. her eyebrows rose, not expecting to find you so soon.
ellie unconsciously licked her lips as she took you in, trying her best not to mess up the song. she forced herself to look away from you and swept her gaze around the place, searching for anything else to focus on. it was in that moment when a girl waving frenetically at her from the side of the stage caught her eye. she was a regular, friday after friday she’d tried to make ellie look at her for more than five seconds but she never succeeded.
your eyes hadn’t left her, so you had been watching the interaction with immense curiosity. you tried to see who that other girl was, but you lost sight of her. when you looked back at ellie, you met her eyes again. there was an amused, teasing grin on her face, which made you laugh.
ellie played the rest of the set practically on autopilot, because she had her full attention on you. to her, you were the only person on the audience. she was performing for you, proudly showing off her skills and with her nerves long forgotten.
your experience wasn’t much different than hers. to you, ellie was the only member in the band worth watching. not that the others were bad or anything of the sort, but there was just something about ellie that made it hard for you to look away. she was too entrancing. the slight smirk she had while playing, the way her hands looked and the prolonged eye contact that she broke from time to time only to close her eyes and get lost in what she was playing.
your world went silent once they got off stage, even though the sound of the people talking around you was incredibly loud. with your head still buzzing, you decided it was best for you to go outside to get some air.
you didn’t mind how cold the night was. you stayed there for what it seemed to be an eternity, getting too caught up in your own mind to realize it had only been a couple of minutes.
your peace was interrupted with the sound of a notification. it was lisa, asking you where you were. outside, you replied and waited for her to come out.
you didn’t expect her showing up with the rest of the band.
lisa was the first to appear in front of you, the huge smile on her face as she went to hug you caused a smile of your own to form. dina and jesse were next, greeting you with nods of acknowledgment and friendly smiles.
“hey! what’d you think?”
“you guys were great!” the compliment left your lips just as your eyes settled on the person who had stayed behind. “hey, ellie.”
her head shot up at the mention of her name, seemingly surprised you had chosen to address her. “hi,” she said before quickly looking away.
before you had the chance to read into ellie’s awkward response, lisa spoke up, drifting your attention away from the guitarist.
“wanna come to our place? it’s movie night.”
the invitation was definitely tempting, but you weren’t sure if dina and jesse would be okay with it. even ellie could be opposed to it, judging by the way her eyes appeared tone avoiding you at all costs.
“uh, i mean, if you guys are okay with me being there—”
“of course we are, c’mon,” jesse immediately replied, placing an arm around your shoulders. “now, tell me all about how you friendzoned lisa…”
you chuckled lightly as you let him guide you to the car, briefly glancing over your shoulder hoping to meet ellie’s eyes. she didn’t look at you once, which made a feeling of uncertainty creep up onto you.
dina, jesse and lisa were the ones who talked the most during the ride. their lighthearted conversation helped to put yours’ and ellie’s racing minds at ease, at least for a bit.
you were still wondering why ellie was avoiding you so blatantly. you were so incredibly caught up in your own thoughts that you failed to notice the pair of green eyes that were watching you through the rear view mirror.
from her place on the copilot seat, ellie’s gaze flickered from you to lisa before looking back ahead.
she could easily ignore you, right?
once you arrived af the apartment, everyone quickly settled on the couches and browsed different streaming sites in search of a movie to watch and criticize.
“this looks shitty enough, what do you guys think?”
“i already watched that,” ellie spoke up for the first time since you were there.
“you have to much free time on your hands, el. i’m sure not even the actors in it watched it.”
the (already poorly done) plan of trying to act normal in your presence quickly fell apart when the sound of your laugh made her look at you and, oh, how she wished she hadn’t.
“i’ve watched it, too. it is pretty shitty, by the way,” you said, not noticing her stare.
ellie’s lips slightly parted as she looked at yours. the same feeling that had taken over her on stage came back to her and she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from you.
god, she was fucked.
“ellie, go bring some blankets and pillows,” lisa told her from the comfort of the biggest couch, waking her up from her trance.
“why don’t you go?”
“i’m too tired.”
“i can help, if you want,” you offered, your eyes meeting hers for the first time since your awkward interaction outside the bar.
ellie was going to tell you that you didn’t have to, but she accepted your help before her mind could catch up with her mouth. you silently followed her to her room. it was the biggest one, so, therefore, she had the biggest closet where they stored a lot of stuff, including extra blankets and pillows.
“here you go, this is the warmest one.” ellie handed you a blanket. “if lisa tries to take it from you, just tell her to fuck off.”
you chuckled, “got it.”
you took the liberty to look around as she searched for the rest of them. her room was definitely a glimpse of who ellie was, you instantly could tell she was an artsy person combined with a nerdy side. various sketches were laying on her desk, as well as books about astronomy and many, many books about dinosaurs. she had a pile of them stacked on her nightstand.
you walked towards them, leaving the blanket on top of her bed.
“you like dinosaurs?”
well, she couldn’t ignore you when you were alone. that would be just plain rude.
“everybody likes dinosaurs,” she replied, standing on her tiptoes to reach the last pillow. she didn’t know why she had put them so high.
“to this amount?” you picked one of the books and glanced through the pages. ‘The Great Dinosaur Debate’, it read on the cover.
ellie walked over to you, “is it my fault that they’re interesting?”
you looked up from the book, a playful grin on your lips, “you’re a nerd.”
“look who’s talking.”
“how would you know if i’m a nerd?”
“lisa talks.” and we have, too, actually. several times, she completed the sentence inwardly.
you rolled your eyes, “at least i don’t pretend to be cool on stage.”
“i’m not pretending, i am cool. the best of both worlds, right?” she gloated with an arrogant smile.
you left the book back on the pile and grabbed another one, “you know, i’ve always wanted to learn more about dinosaurs. maybe learn from someone who knows a lot would be nice,” you casually mentioned, hoping ellie would take the hint.
“oh, i have a lot of books i could lend you. these guys know everything.”
she didn’t.
you tilted your head to the side, unable to erase the smile off your face. it was difficult to believe the ellie standing in front you was the same ellie who was on stage an hour ago.
“sure, i’d love that.” with that, you grabbed the blanket ellie had given you and a bunch of pillows and went back to the living room. ellie followed you closely, throwing each of her friends a blanket.
they had finally decided on a movie, so once you and ellie were back they pressed play.
it was a cheap movie about the end of the world and the actors were almost as bad as the special effects. ellie would‘ve found it hilarious if she had been able to focus on it.
you were sitting on the floor with your back against the couch, wrapped up in the blanket she had given you. from where she was, ellie had a perfect view of your side-profile and, even though she felt like a creep, she couldn’t help her gaze from falling on you. especially when you laughed at her friend’s jokes or chimed in with one of your one.
it was practically torture.
once the movie ended, she felt like she could finally breathe again. dina turned the lights back on and, naturally, the first thing ellie did was look at you. it surprised her to find that you were already looking at her.
“i thought you had fallen asleep. you didn’t talk once.”
“i was just too caught up in the movie.” she averted her gaze from you to her shoes, knowing damn well she couldn’t tell you what the hell the movie was about.
unaware of her white lie, you nodded as you continued folding the blankets everyone had left on the couch. “want me to help you take these back to your room?”
“uh, yeah— yes. sure, let’s go,” ellie pathetically tripped over her words before leading the way.
you followed closely, your mouth curving into a small smile at her answer.
silence enveloped the two of you when you entered her bedroom for the second time. you handed her the neatly folded blankets and watched as she stored them.
“i didn’t get a chance to tell you how well you played tonight,” you spoke up, making her glance back at you for a second.
“you think?” she smiled before putting away the last blanket.
you hummed, “couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”
ellie’s heart skipped a beat at the memory of your eyes following her every move. it was a miracle she had her back facing you and you didn’t witness the way an obvious flush spread across her face. “i take it i exceeded your expectations, then?”
“yeah, absolutely.”
sending you a coy smile, she clasped her hands together behind her back. “told you so,” she said as she walked past you.
you went back to the living room, where you found the rest of the group vivaciously talking about something that, apparently, didn’t concern you or ellie by the way they went quiet when they saw you two approach.
“guys? i think i’m gonna go. it’s getting pretty late—”
“ellie will drive you home,” jesse quickly said, making the aforementioned look up at him, disoriented.
“huh?”
“yeah?” you looked at her, lips pulling into a small smile.
who could say no to that face?
jesse threw ellie the car keys, mouthing ‘you’re welcome’ while you hugged dina and lisa goodbye. she frowned, silently inquiring what did he mean by that before setting her gaze on you.
“you ready?” ellie asked from the doorframe, waiting for you.
the cold breeze from the night hit the both of you the moment you stepped outside. given how late it was, the neighborhood was deadly quiet. the only thing interrupting the silence was the sound of your footsteps.
ellie held the passenger’s door open for you and gifted you a smile when you thanked her, slightly touching her arm. she let out a shaky breath before getting in the car herself.
after giving her your adress, she started driving in silence. her knuckles were turning white due to the tight grip she had on the wheel.
trying to be as discreet as possible, ellie glanced at you from the corner of her eyes but, once again, she met your gaze.
“what?” she couldn’t help but ask, a smile slowly forming on her lips.
you laughed softly, taking your eyes off her and looking down at your fidgeting hands. “oh, nothing.”
“right…” ellie set her eyes back on the road as she turned on the radio.
the quietness of the night got interrupted by the sound of ‘i want to know what love is’ by foreigner. both of you instantly looked at each other when you recognized the song and burst out laughing.
“woah, setting the mood?”
it surprised you when her sheepish tone changed into a slight teasing one, matching yours, “i don’t know, is it working?”
“maybe, maybe.”
the laughter gradually quieted down, letting the cheesy song’s chorus fill the silence. you shot ellie a quick glance, smiling to yourself as you listen to the lyrics.
“it is great song, though,” you commented.
“classic,” ellie added, eyes on the road.
“absolutely.”
you arrived at your place not much longer after that, since your building wasn’t that far away from hers. ellie turned off the engine and looked at you just as you turned your head to her.
“thank you for driving me and for giving me the warmest blanket. especially for the blanket.”
“you’re welcome.” the smile that ellie sent you back was a little too sweet for you to be able to function properly.
you forced yourself to look away from her, not wanting to look like a creep. unfortunately, you appeared to be destined to embarrass yourself that night one way or another. when you tried to unbuckle your seatbelt, it got stuck. you struggled in silence for a bit before giving up and looking at ellie, who had obviously noticed what was going on and was staring at you amusedly.
ellie leaned over, laughing softly at your helpless expression. “i told jesse a million times to sell this piece of crap and buy a new car,” she murmured, shaking her head.
she was close, way too close. your eyes automatically placed on her, as they always seemed to do ever since you met her. a small smile appeared on your lips when you heard her mutter a series of curses under her breath.
“there.” she returned to her seat, giving you the space you needed to regulate your breathing but, at the same time, the space you didn’t want. you happened to like having her close.
“thank you,” you grinned, but your smile faltered a little when you realized that you had to leave. maybe you were being overly dramatic, but you didn’t know when you were going to see her again, so you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that the night had come to an end. “see you around, ellie. thank you for driving me.”
“see you.” her voice was barely above a whisper.
ellie waited for you to be inside your building before leaving. you waved at her one last time, making a smile appear on her lips.
she didn’t put on music on the drive back home. it was just her alone with her thoughts. it was funny, they all seemed to revolve around you.
she went to sleep that night feeling guilty. it wasn’t right for her to be thinking about you that way. it didn’t matter it hadn’t worked out, lisa had liked you first. you were off-limits.
so the world kept spinning, time kept passing, life kept going, and ellie kept trying to forget about you. it wasn’t an easy task, since you had managed to infiltrate even her most random dreams. if that weren’t enough, you started hanging out with the group more often. jesse and dina had both taken a liking in you, too. she obviously couldn’t blame them.
ellie started making up excuses to miss said hangouts, which made her feel bad but she figured some time away from you would help dissolve whatever feelings were brewing inside of her.
she considered she was doing a pretty decent job, but that was until she ran into you on the street.
“ellie!”
you looked as radiant as always, maybe even more since your beauty seemed to be heightened by the fact she had tried so hard to forget about it. it hit her harder than she imagined.
“hey! uh, what’s up?” her reply came out in pathetic stutters, but you didn’t seem to mind.
“oh, nothing. just on my way home. doing some grocery shopping?” you pointed at the bags ellie was holding, to which she nodded.
“yeah, yeah. we were out of sugar n’ stuff.”
“i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever. you missed movie night at dina’s.”
“yeah, i know. i’ve been busy.”
the hectic sounds of the crowded street didn’t hide the fact that a deafening silence followed ellie’s short answer. you stood there, waiting for her to say something else, or even look you in the eyes.
“listen, um, i gotta go. i’m late for… something. see you around?”
stunned, you watched as she hurriedly walked past you. you tried to make sense of what had just happened, trying to recall if you could have possible done something to upset her, but nothing came to mind.
ellie turned around the corner cringing at her own behavior. she felt awful and spent the entire walk home trying to shake off the embarrassment.
lisa, who was already at the apartment, curiously observed her friend as she helped her put away everything she had bought.
“you okay, dude?” she asked her once she caught ellie staring a little too long at the wall.
“yeah, why?”
“are you sure? you’ve been acting weird lately.”
she sighed, “i’m good, i swear.”
“really? because a little bird told me you seemed off today.”
ellie shot her friend a glance, knowing that little bird was you. “oh. yeah, about that…”
what was she supposed to say? that she practically ran away from you because she couldn’t handle being around you without feeling fucking butterflies in her stomach and that it made her feel terribly guilty and the same time it scared the shit out of her?
“it’s nothing, lisa. i was just in a hurry—”
“do you have a problem with her or something?”
“what? no, of course not.”
“then why do you keep running away from her? you never hang out with us when she’s there.”
“i already told you it’s nothing.”
“we honestly thought you liked her. maybe we’ve been wrong this entire time?” she asked more to herself than to ellie.
ellie let out an awkward chuckle, “i do. she’s cool. why wouldn’t i like her?”
“no, me and the guys had this theory. we thought you liked her as in like her, as more than friends.”
ellie averted her gaze from lisa to the floor, “what?” she asked in a high-pitched voice. “no, i don’t.”
“oh my god, i knew it. you were so making eyes at each other when she came to see us play—”
“we weren’t—”
“—then, i told the others and they noticed the same thing. that’s why jesse told you to drive her home.”
suddenly, her friend’s behavior started making sense and she could not be more mortified. had she been that obvious?
“y’know, she asks me about you all the time, then she plays it off by asking about dina and jesse too, but i know she doesn’t really care about them.”
ellie’s stomach fluttered at the new information, but she shook her head. “that doesn’t mean anything.”
“is that why you’re acting weird? you like her but you don’t think she feels the same? cause let me tell you, she obviously does,” lisa told her, searching to meet her eyes. seeing ellie stayed silent, she spoke up again. “i don’t mind, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“lisa…”
“ellie…” she mocked her, unable to hide her amused smile. “so that’s what happened? you were worried i’d get mad if you liked her?”
ellie nodded, finally looking at her. “i felt bad.”
“aw, aren’t you a big ol’ softie underneath that permanent scowl?” lisa laughed, making ellie roll her eyes. “if i knew that was the thing holding you back i would’ve told you to go for it a long time ago. i just didn’t want to pressure you, i know you don’t like to talk about that stuff.”
“it’s not the only thing that’s holding me back,” ellie mumbled as she scratched the back of her neck, gaze cast downward.
“ellie she likes you, i mean it. when we were on stage she didn’t look at the rest of us once. not even when i fell, she probably didn’t even notice.”
“you fell?”
“exactly. you two were in your own little world. it’s cute, actually. so, if you’re really interested, ask her out.”
it was painfully obvious how interested ellie was but, even with lisa’s blessing and words of reassurance, she wasn’t entirely convinced you liked her back. there was the possibility you were too nice, that’s all. so, she decided to do something she never thought she’d do.
ellie left it to the hands of fate.
no matter the outcome, the universe would send some kind of signal if she should ask you out. what she didn’t expect, was that the universe would act so quickly.
only two days passed before ellie saw you again.
for some reason, she had decided to walk home after band practice. she was too caught up in her own world to notice anything happening around her, but the sound of a familiar voice snapped her back to reality.
you were talking to a dog that seemed to be attentively listening as if he understood what you were saying. “you can’t pee on strangers. or anyone, for that matter.”
a short, soft laugh escaped her lips at the situation. ellie put her hands in her pockets, a wave of nerves suddenly washing over her at hesitation grew within her. letting out a small sigh, she gathered all her courage and straightened her back. ellie began approaching you with a determined look on her face.
“hey.”
your head shot up, the corners of your lips tugging up in a smile as soon as you saw who it was. “ellie, hi!”
the dog beside you immediately jumped at her, attacking her with several kisses as his tail moved at an impossibly fast speed. ellie chuckled as she kneeled down to pet him.
“oh, i’m sorry!”
“it’s okay, i don’t mind.”
“he must really like you. he doesn’t let strangers pet him.”
“yeah?” ellie smiled up at you before returning her gaze to the dog in front of her.
eh, not really. he’s actually the friendliest dog to ever grace the earth but you’re pretty and you make me nervous. “yeah,” you grinned.
“what’s his name?”
“chip. he’s my niece’s, actually. i’m just talking him for a walk while she’s at school,” you explained, trying not to look to affected by her presence. it was hard.
ellie hummed, deep in thought. suddenly, she looked up at you again, “want some company?”
her question took you by surprise, especially after your last encounter. “uh, yes, i’d like that.”
the two of you began walking at a slow pace, sometimes stopping to wait for chip who got distracted by something that caught his attention. ellie asked how your day was going, and once you were done telling her you asked how hers was. it was a calm conversation, the total opposite of how you two were feeling inside.
“i wanted to apologize for leaving so quick the other day.”
“oh, you don’t have to. it’s fine, really.”
“no, it’s not. i’m sorry, it’s just— um, have you talked to lisa?”
you glanced at her, “not recently, why? did something happen?”
“no, no. i was just wondering.”
“you were wondering because…?”
ellie chuckled awkwardly, realizing what she had gotten herself into. she could play dumb and avoid the conversation, but that would be not listening to the universe and that would be a very dumb thing to do, wouldn’t it?
“you’re just friends, right?”
you gave her another quick side-eyed glance, “yes, why?”
“you don’t like her that way and she doesn’t like you that way either, right?”
you let out a short laugh, “yes, ellie. our date wasn’t what we expected so we decided to just stay friends. i already told you that.”
“then let me show you how it’s done.”
you whipped your head around and stared at her as your surprised expression began to morph into a giddy grin. “what?”
“let me take you on a proper date. are you free tomorrow?”
“really?”
“if— if you want, of course.”
in that moment, ellie knew she had made the right choice and internally thanked the universe for pushing her to do so. the way your face lit up at her words was priceless, and it was also a sign that you were as interested in her as she was in you.
you gleefully accepted her request with a warm smile, one that almost knocked the air out of ellie. she promised to text you so she could tell you the details, and she stuck to her word because once you arrived home there was a message from her waiting for you.
you began texting right away. more precisely, you sent hundreds of voicenotes throughout the day and she happily listened to them, replying with an equal amount of texts and lame reaction pictures (which you loved).
“you’re okay with this, right?” ellie asked lisa for the hundredth time as she was about to leave for your date.
her friend, who was sitting comfortably on their couch, rolled her eyes for the hundredth time, too. “ellie, i swear to god if you ask me again—”
“alright! alright.”
“have fun, dork.”
“yeah, yeah,” she muttered as she grabbed the keys to jesse’s car, who had kindly let her borrow it for the date. “don’t wait up, i know how to keep a girl entertained.”
“fuck you!” ellie heard lisa say before she closed the door behind her. she went snickering to herself the whole way to the car, but soon her cockiness evaporated and, instead, a feeling of uncertainty replaced it.
she began second guessing every decision she made the closer she got to your house. was her outfit nice? was her hair okay? was the bouquet of flowers too much? was the date idea she had planned the most nerdy thing ever thought? the answer to that last question was probably, but there was no time to change it, she was already waiting for you outside.
she shuffled her feet as she moved from side to side, her grip on the stems of the flowers tightening. once she heard someone coming, her head shot up. her lips instantly curved into a smile when she saw you. you had the biggest grin on your face as you approached her. ellie’s smile widened even more when she noticed what you had on your hands.
flowers.
“we’re too cheesy, aren’t we?” you scrunched up your nose, slightly tilting your head to the side as ellie laughed. you proceeded to exchange bouquets, your fingers briefly brushing hers. “these are beautiful, thank you.” the compliment left your lips in a tone so sweet it had ellie melting. “alright, should we go?”
“you’re not gonna leave them to put them in water or something?”
“that’s for when i get back. i wanna show them off first. unless the super secret date location isn’t flower-friendly?”
“oh, no, you can take them. it’ll be fine.”
ellie’s chosen date destination was the museum. it was nerdy but, fortunately for her, you were thrilled once you found out. you kept telling her how excited you were while you waited in line, swinging the flowers around as you gesticulated.
there was a small smile on her lips as she attentively listened to you talk about your first experience in a museum and how you’ve always wanted to go to one again, but never got around to it.
it was strange to think about when ellie first saw you in a picture. you caught her attention right away. now, you were in front of her, gifting her your presence and your kind smiles.
everything was going great, but the constant reminder that she wasn’t being completely honest with you caused a persistent feeling of guilt to set on the pit of her stomach.
“i have to tell you something,” ellie said after a moment of silence.
your eyebrows instantly scrunched together at her tone. “everything okay?”
“you said lisa seemed different in person than through text. she probably knew nothing about the movies and characters she said to like when you talked about it on your date, right? well, that’s because it was actually me behind those texts. just when those topics came out, you know, it wasn’t me always. so, basically, i feel really bad about not telling you sooner. you probably think this is weird, right?” ellie let out an awkward chuckle after her (way too long) rambling.
you stared at her in silence, processsing the great amount of information she had given you in just five seconds. suddenly, you laughed.
“it really threw me off when lisa said she loved anakin and legolas’ friendship. then i saw your room. i knew something was fishy, though i never would’ve have guessed i actually talked to you and you weren’t just telling her what to say.”
ellie hid her face behind her hands, laughing at lisa’s huge mistake. “i can’t believe she got aragorn and anakin mixed up.”
you chuckled, “yeah, and that wasn’t the worst one.”
“oh my god,” she groaned. “wait, so, you knew?”
“kind of. i didn’t ask lisa about it because i didn’t want her to be embarrassed or anything, so i just assumed something like that had happened.”
“and you’re not mad?”
“i wouldn’t be here if that were the case, but thank you for telling me,” you said, smiling sweetly at her and reaching for her hand to give her a quick little squeeze. “c’mon, we’re holding the line.”
much to ellie’s dismay, your hand slipped away from hers. she couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed at how brief the contact had been. still, having told you the whole truth, ellie was practically floating behind you.
“by the way, i wanted to tell you something, too,” you started, making her look into your eyes. “going on dates with two different people in such a short time is not like me, y’know? especially if those people are friends.”
“okay…”
“i just don’t want you to get the wrong idea of me.”
“what, that you’re homie hopper?”
“ellie!” you laughed in disbelief.
“i’m kidding,” she playfully rolled her eyes. you watched as her teasing smirk turned into a soft smile.
ellie had never been an affectionate person. in fact, having someone constantly touching her wasn’t something she craved and seeing couples that were too into public displays of affection made her sick. then, she met you.
standing so close to you was torture. every fiber of her being screamed to get closer and, for the first time, she initiated contact. seeing you two were next in line, she took that opportunity to grab your hand and lead you into the museum. she didn’t turn around to see your reaction, but she didn’t have to. you squeezed her hand and intertwined your fingers, indicating that you wouldn’t let go.
you walked side by side at an unhurried pace, taking the time to soak in everything you saw. the rest of the world could have disappeared and neither of you would have cared. in that moment, all that existed were each other and the hushed conversations you shared. the both of you were so caught up in your own little bubble that often forgot there were people around and you had to apologize every time you laughed a little too loud.
ellie knew a lot about everything, you were in complete awe of her. you were certain you could listen to her tell you a million random facts and never get tired of it. the best part was when you finally reached the section where everything dinosaur-related was displayed.
“you said you wanted to learn about them, didn’t you?” she asked with a playful smirk. “you still have time to want to take it back, because i will not be able to shut up once i start.”
you shook your head, smiling fondly at her. “i will listen to every word.”
and you did. sometimes you asked her questions, leading her to talk even more than she intended. it worried her that you could get annoyed, but she could see the genuine interest in your eyes whenever she looked at you.
time flew by much faster than you would’ve wanted. many conversations were shared throughout the whole date. some were meaningful and some weren’t, but each and every one of them would stay engraved in each other’s memories.
you would always remember ellie’s biggest regret, her favorite candy, the first time she fell in love, the age she learned how to ride a bike and how much she hated reality shows.
she would always remember the first time someone broke your heart, that you preferred tea over coffee, your favorite cartoon growing up and your irrational fear of mannequins.
both of you would always remember the comfortable silences you shared during the art section and the way both of you giggled whenever you caught each other’s eyes.
now, standing outside of your building under a starry sky, you already felt nostalgic about a night that wasn’t even technically over yet.
“thank you for today. it totally exceeded my expectations, and they were really, really high, by the way.”
“yeah?” ellie smiled widely before biting down her bottom lip.
“yeah.” you nod, grinning. “i had a lot of fun.”
“me too.”
you kept staring at each other, unable to erase the dumb smiles off your lips.
“did i score a second date?”
“you even scored a third one.”
ellie laughed at your answer, momentarily looking down at her shoes. when she met your gaze again, she felt time slowing as well as her breath. you were the one who took the first step, quite literally, standing closer to her whilst she seemed to be completely still.
your eyes met for a brief moment before you finally closed the gap between you and enveloped you two on a very eagerly awaited kiss. the contact made ellie come back to her senses and she reacted almost instantly, making you smile against her.
you had been waiting for that moment to come since beginning of the night and, yet, you still weren’t ready for the way it made you feel. it was overwhelming, in the best way possible.
“i’d invite you over but, unfortunately for you, i’m a lady,” you murmured as your fingers intertwined on the back of her head, the bouquet of flowers hanging upside down on her back.
ellie grinned against your lips before giving you one final kiss. “goodnight.”
you had said your goodbyes. the next step was for ellie to leave, but she found herself glued to the floor. your soft smile quickly became a teasing smirk when you realized she had no intention to move.
“did you forget how to walk?”
her next move pleasantly surprised you. she raised one of her hands to the back of your neck and pulled gently to draw you into another kiss. it felt so natural, so right.
“i think it’s time for our second date,” she mumbled, smiling dazedly.
“now?”
she was still so close.
“please.”
you weren’t sure how it was possible for you to hear her whispering voice over the loud beating of your heart.
“let’s just— let’s drive around and see where we end up.”
you grinned, immediately nodding at her proposal.
who could say no to that face?
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vikkirosko · 6 months
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The last story was amazing, hope you can get this one in before the holdidays, and have a nice vacation. And just a great next few months on top of that! But I was wondering ( sorry this may be long ) if you could do a headcanon of alastor, lucifer, Angel Dust, lucifer, fizz + Ozzie, and Rosie? ( sorry if that's to many characters there all just great characters ) x a reader who has CIP ( the inablility ) to feel pain? Thank you! Also how have you been?
I'm all good. I haven't had much free time lately, so I'm a little behind schedule on writing requests, but I still don't lose hope that I'll be able to finish everything before the end of the year. And how are you doing?
Headcanons CIP
🕷 Angel Dust x Reader 💖
You and Angel have known each other for a long time. You knew that he often got into various scuffles and always reminded him to be careful. One of the times you knew for sure that he was going to get into trouble, you went with him. You were right and helped him cope and not get hurt, but there was something that caused him concern. You were hit by several bullets, but you didn't seem to pay any attention to it at all
Only when you noticed the blood on your clothes did you say with irritation that you had ruined your favorite sweater. Angel jumped up to you, worried about your wounds, but you didn't seem to feel the pain, which you soon informed him about. That's why Angel took you back to the hotel, where he treated your wounds. You told him that you had a CIP. You haven't felt pain since you were born, even when you were human, and even in Hell, the absence of pain has remained with you
Angel was surprised that for so long he didn't know that you don't feel pain at all. You had to pay attention to little things so as not to harm yourself, for example, be careful about hot dishes, because you might not notice how hot the soup could be or how hot the cup of coffee was. Angel listened attentively to you, surprised that he didn't notice it
Angel has become more attentive towards you. He didn't constantly take care of you, but sometimes he reminded you that the food or drink was hot, that you held the knife too close to your fingers, or that you were injured. Angel understood that even if you didn't feel pain, it didn't mean that the wounds didn't hurt you, which is why he tried to take care of you at least a little
📻 Alastor x Reader🎙
Alastor found out that you don't feel pain when he noticed that you returned to the hotel with an injured leg. You weren't even limping. You just went to your room like everything was completely normal. He didn't know any other reason for this. He went to your room with a first-aid kit and you did not hide from him either your own wound or the fact that you really did not feel pain
Alastor stayed in your room while you treated the wound on your leg. You told him that even when you were human, you didn't feel pain. You assumed that at least in Hell this would change, but it turned out not to be so. Because of this, you didn't notice the wounds you could get until you noticed the blood on your clothes
The origin of the scars on your skin was now clear. He understood that you probably got these scars in Hell. On your palms, hands, and obviously not only there. You really weren't very worried about your own health, and the lack of pain only made it harder for you to take care of yourself
Alastor understood that in Hell there was much less harm from this for you. Dying in Hell was much more difficult for a sinner than when you were alive, so Alastor didn't worry too much about you. He knew you'd be fine, but he still left a first-aid kit in your room in case you needed it
💀Rosie x Reader 🌹
You were a frequent guest at Rosie's and helped her with some problems at her store. You often stayed at her house for weeks at a time, but Rosie was only too happy to spend time with you. Sometimes you came in with wounds after fights, but Rosie was sure they weren't that serious, so you didn't pay attention to it. However, when you came in seriously injured but behaved as if everything was fine, she became worried
Rosie insistently asked you to sit down and brought a first aid kit. She was in no hurry to ask questions or jump to conclusions, primarily focusing on your wounds. You didn't make a sound when she was treating your wounds, which gave Rosie certain thoughts
You honestly told her that you didn't feel pain at all. Even before your death, you had CIP and you learned to live with it, but in Hell you became more relaxed and took much less care of your own health, which led to your injury. Rosie listened to you carefully, then gently stroked your hair and asked you to be careful
Rosie didn't want you to try. She knew that you tried to be more attentive to yourself and tried to avoid new wounds. You didn't want to upset Rosie and make her worry, which is why you tried not to put yourself in danger, not even realizing that Rosie was ready to show those who would harm you why she was overlord
🍎 Lucifer Morningstar x Reader 🐍
Lucifer knew perfectly well that you didn't feel pain. You've known each other for a long time and he often saw you after fights. You didn't pay attention to the wounds, just talked irritably about stained or torn clothes. You both knew that the lack of feeling pain had its own characteristics, so you made sure that the wounds were treated, and Lucifer made sure that no one dared to hurt you
Lucifer was much stronger than you, and when you were together, no one dared even try to look at you askance, but sometimes you got involved in fights, especially when it was the end of the year. You didn't want to hide, even though you knew you could have died. Every time Lucifer found out that you were fighting again, he watched, taking his time to intervene. It was only when he saw that you were seriously injured that he intervened
Lucifer sometimes offered to pick up personal guards for you, but you kept telling him that it wasn't necessary. Just because you didn't feel pain didn't mean you were reckless. You tried not to put yourself in excessive danger, realizing that even in Hell you could die
You didn't know how long you would be in Hell and whether it was possible to leave Hell at all, but while you were there you weren't going to let yourself die again, especially because you didn't notice any wound and Lucifer didn't mind helping you with it
🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader x Asmodeus 💕
In your relationship, Asmodeus has always tried to take care of Fizzarolli and you. He had sincere feelings for both of you, and you responded in kind, but if Fizzarolli really tried to be careful, then you got into trouble more often. They both saw the wounds healing on you, but you always said it was just a small accident and they had nothing to worry about. This went on until you returned with bloodstains on your clothes and serious wounds that you didn't pay attention to
They immediately rushed to you, both very worried. You convinced them that you were fine, but this time it was obviously not the case. Asmodeus treated your wounds, after which he seriously asked who did it. To his question, you smiled gently and said that they were much worse off than you, so you shouldn't have worried about it. However, there was something that did not escape their eyes. It's like you didn't feel the touch of your wounds
When Fizzarolli asked you if you were in pain, you were confused and said that you didn't feel any pain at all. You've had CIP and you've never felt pain in your entire life. There used to be problems because of this, but now you have learned to avoid serious problems, at least you tried
Asmodeus and Fizzarolli weren't going to leave you alone until your wounds were completely healed. They both surrounded you with care, worrying about you, to which you laughed softly and hugged them. Even in Hell, you were able to find those who gave you the warmth that warmed your heart and soul
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agustdiv1ne · 8 months
Text
telepathy (m) — cbg
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pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader
genre: smut, strangers to ???, mind reader/telepathist!beomgyu, funeral home employee!beomgyu (it's for the plot ok???)
wc: 11.7k
synopsis: most people would abhor a packed subway car — but beomgyu, telepathist extraordinaire, relishes in it. with a career in the funeral business, he finds his morning commute to be the only thing that keeps him relatively sane. reading the mundane thoughts of mundane people maintains his tether to his humanity, but when he goes to read your mind...oh, things get a whole lot more interesting.
warnings: mdni!! 18+ only, ageless blogs dni!!!, mentions of dead bodies, embalming, and funerals (though not very descriptive — it's only bc of gyu's profession), reader is a freak that listens to nsfw audios on her way to work!, gyu is a perv so it's a match made in heaven (hell?), gyu's honestly a little strange + obsessive in this...anyways, dom!gyu, sub!mc, solo male masturbation, on my big cock beomgyu agenda, very brief mentions of daddy/sir/master kinks, explicit consent is given before anything happens bc consent is sexy <3, mind manipulation (he makes it feel like he's touching her), exhibitionism in a way (it will all make sense, trust 🙏), degradation, praise, pseudo-fingering (idk how to explain it, f receiving), gyu calls mc: pretty girl, sweetheart, slut, whore, princess, mc calls gyu sir like once...whew! that was a lot, lmk if i should add anything!
note: you know i have a terrible bout of brainrot when the warnings are all nsfw related...yeah. Yeah. *presses post and runs away*
☆ playlist ☆
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masterlist
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beomgyu’s commute to work is, by all means, uneventful. 
the train is packed as per usual, filled to the brim with businessmen and office workers and other miscellaneous passengers on their way to whatever the hell their destination is. like most days, he finds himself towards the middle of the passenger car, snatching a rare open seat between a stone-faced man adorned in a suit — his head buried in a newspaper — and a slumped over college student nursing a cup of coffee. the poor kid almost looks like death itself, sporting dark under eyes, rumpled clothes, and a prominent slouch to his spine. not that beomgyu could really blame him; he remembers how easily college living (if you could call it living) can chip away at a person’s mental well-being. 
people-watching like this is what keeps him sane, he thinks. being surrounded by corpses all day, every day is more than draining — it sucks the soul out of him, really, being the only person on shift most of the time that he’s working, having to embalm and clean and pretty up all those cold, gray bodies so that their loved ones can say one last goodbye. it’s quiet in their minds and it’s all too quiet in the funeral home, the only sounds being the clanking of the embalming tools he’s been trained to use, his footsteps echoing down the tiled halls, his sighs of contempt when something small goes wrong — yet the living, breathing, warm people on the train provide a sense of normalcy, something to look forward to every day. to hear their thoughts, as prosaic as they are, has become a sort of saving grace from the lifeless, cold building that he finds himself in five out of the seven days of the week. honestly, if he can maintain a little bit of his humanity via strangers among the subway, even if it’s just by hearing their thoughts, then he’ll take what he can get. 
yeah, that’s the thing: beomgyu is a mind-reader, a pretty talented one at that. not that anyone knew, of course — he wouldn’t risk the government finding out. beomgyu is not usually one for promises, but he has promised himself one thing: there’s no way in hell that he will ever become one of the government’s sick little science experiments, even if his life ever hits rock bottom. he has no idea how his powers work — just that they do, and he would like to keep it that way. it’s bad enough that he doesn’t know where he got such abilities; his parents never mentioned anything about it and only ever grew worried whenever he read back their thoughts to them, so obviously the existence of his powers is some statistical anomaly in the universe. normal people can’t read others’ minds. he was forced to learn that at a very young age in order to keep himself safe. 
“how do you know that?” he remembers his mother’s alarmed tone when he first did it unknowingly, repeating back her own thoughts to her without realizing that’s what he had done. he was maybe six at the time — innocent, curious, plagued by voices in his head that he didn’t quite understand. those voices weren’t his. rather, they were his friends’, his family’s, his dentist’s and his doctor’s and his soccer coach’s voices that ricocheted about his mind uncontrollably;it was overwhelming for the young boy’s mind. the day he first admitted that he could hear them was the first day he heard his parents argue, their yelling from downstairs colliding with their internal voices in beomgyu’s mind, their terribly poignant concern for him and this development louder than any of the venomous words that they spat at each other in the living room. all he remembers from that day was himself crying, unable to block out anything that they thought, let alone his own thoughts. too much for his young mind to handle.
he heard their fear when they took him to the doctor for the first time of many, their heartache when the doctor came back and said that he might have psychosis, but more testing was needed. he heard how they started to deny it — their little boy couldn’t have that, could he? no, no he couldn’t. there’s no way he could. 
although beomgyu was young at the time, guilt ate at him. he was the one hurting his parents, he was the one making them worry. despite his official diagnosis when he was seven, something inside him knew that the doctors were wrong. those voices weren’t just the result of the machinations of his mind at work — they were voices of the people he knew, strangers who passed him on the street. what they said wasn’t evil, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. usually, it was quite mundane. at some point, he started to practice with it, trying focus on one certain voice out of the buzzing hive in his mind, blocking out the others, switching and focusing and blocking out until the action was as natural as breathing. it took him about five years before he reached that point, and after nearly two decades of living with his abilities, he’s gotten quite used to it. his mind is usually quiet — besides his own stream of consciousness — unless he allows others in. or, rather, they allow him in, which they always do. he sees it like a set of doors; open one, and you can hear that one person’s thoughts. close it, and he no longer hears them. and none of them are ever locked since no one expects to their thoughts to be read, which simply makes his life that much easier.
if he’s being honest, he didn’t used to read minds as often as he does now, but there isn’t much he can do about that now lest he go insane. beomgyu could admit that his habit was a little creepy…okay scratch that, extremely fucking creepy. these people had no idea that their minds were being infiltrated, their mental walls bypassed and their privacy violated like a computer infected with a malicious virus. it’s borderline depraved, how nonchalantly he robs these strangers of their utmost privacy, sometimes of their deepest, darkest secrets that they would never want anyone to find out about. he could sequester quite a bit of money out of some of these people, now that he thinks about it.
and sure, that may sound immoral, but beomgyu has never considered himself to be of particularly virtuous character.
without a second thought, beomgyu taps into the mind of the kid next to him. he’s thinking about how he’s failing his statistics class because he just bombed his midterm. no, now his mind is full of what he’s going to eat after his 8 a.m. class. he shifts his focus on the businessman to his right. stocks, his cheating wife, how he’s considering leaving with his mistress in the coming days…
”what a prick,” beomgyu thinks to himself, smirking a bit. just a few more stops until he gets off, now. 
he pulls his phone from his jacket pocket, scrolling aimlessly just to keep his eyes busy. sitting on the opposite side of the college student, an elderly lady walks herself through the stew that she’s going to make for her grandchildren tonight, excitement coloring her words. it’s cute — he loves hearing things like that. wholesome thoughts are not easy to come by nowadays, given the state of the world. exhibit a: a teenager standing on the other side of the train car worries himself into a frenzy over whether the girl that he has a crush on likes him back. exhibit b: a middle aged man contemplates if he should quit his job. for a second, beomgyu thinks that he might be in the same boat as him, before realizing that he has nothing else to fall back on — exhibit c. he could keep going.
a clear, robotic voice overhead announces the subway’s arrival to the next station — his station. sighing, he sits up a little taller, slipping his phone into the pocket of his slacks. a vague sense of dread weighs down his shoulders, knowing that he has a service to set up for the moment he clocks in.
he’s not looking forward to today, and yet the train still slows to a stop, the doors still slide open, and he still grabs his work briefcase from the spot between his feet. like clockwork, beomgyu maneuvers through the crowd, out the doors, and climbs the stairs up to the chilly streets of seoul.
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decompressing after a slow-moving shift can take beomgyu’s night in many directions. sometimes, he simply returns home and hops into bed after a long, scalding hot shower that removes the invisible layer of grime that lays heavy on his skin. other times — typically on fridays — he’ll stop by a bar and catch up with his friends, occasionally leaving with a woman hanging off of his arm if he drinks enough to lower his inhibitions. more often than not, however, his excursions at the underground bar that taehyun is partial to end in him stumbling home alone and waking up the next morning with a raging headache. nursing a hangover alone, eating breakfast alone, bathing alone…he has never really become acclimated to it. the monster that festers inside beomgyu’s chest craves for love, for connection, for somebody to hold when the nights are too dark and his thoughts match the shade of the sky. the lack of connection is slowly getting to him. is this what insanity feels like? he wouldn’t know, nor would he like to find out. he’s sane. he’s perfectly sane. 
beomgyu understands that his profession can be off-putting to potential lovers, but it’s not as if he had much of a choice in the matter — not when his one shot at the career of his dreams crumbled below his feet when the company filed bankruptcy, sending him tumbling back down to earth, to the reality that his college degree meant little to nothing to the vast majority of employers nowadays. though he applied to dozens of jobs, the only one he ever heard back from was from the listing titled “mortuary assistant,” and in desperation, he accepted the position without much thought. maybe if he had tried a little harder to find a different company where he could apply his skills, maybe if he had pushed himself to make connections in the industry when he had the resources to do so, maybe if he had pursued music production a little harder, had not given up so readily when things grew difficult…maybe things would be different. 
beomgyu often thinks about the maybes.
this particular night, he finds himself leaned over a bar counter, a glass of amber-hued beer in hand. he half-listens to yeonjun’s slurred account of his dance crew’s latest win while he stares down at the mahogany tabletop. some condensation has gathered on the wood, and he swipes a finger through it. a slap to his shoulder brings his focus back to his surroundings.
“gyu, dude, y’should totally try out,’’ yeonjun pitches as he sloppily swings an arm over beomgyu’s shoulders. “get out of that. that—” he stumbles over his words for a moment, expression warping into a confused grimace. “that gross ass dead people building.”
beomgyu exhales a laugh as yeonjun’s head lolls against his shoulder, quietly whining about how his head hurts. while yeonjun is substantially gone already, beomgyu is only on his second beer. scanning the spacious, dim-lit room, he shakes his head. it’s times like these where he does not feel the need to slip into people’s minds — being surrounded by his friends is enough. “nah, man. i don’t think i could keep up. it’s been a while.”
“sure y’could! you’re like th’second best dancer here!” yeonjun says as his torso slumps down against the table. the bartender eyes him from further down the bar top with concern, but beomgyu sates the employee with an apologetic smile, ensuring that he turns away before setting his attention back on his friend.
beomgyu scoffs. “and i’m assuming you’re the first best?”
“uh, obviously. i literally run th’thing,” yeonjun retorts as he glares at him with a single eye open, an ear now resting on top of his crossed arms on the counter.
“yeonjun’s right,” taehyun butts in from the other side of yeonjun’s collapsed body. though his glazed over eyes give away his inebriated state, taehyun’s tolerance tends to lean much higher than yeonjun’s; this fact is confirmed by the crystal clear enunciation of his words as he continues, “you’ve been acting differently ever since you started working there. it wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”
great, even his friends have noticed. exhaling deeply, beomgyu nods.
“yeah, i’ll think about it.” 
as the conversation meanders off into other topics, beomgyu sinks back into his own little world. curse taehyun and his acute perceptiveness. he knows that he’s been acting off, but maybe his friends are right; he once dreamed of being a choreographer, back when he was a teen, before he discovered his love for music production. perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to try.
unintentionally, he meets the gaze of a girl sitting at a booth with her friends. he quickly averts his gaze, and by the time he looks back up, she has been roped into what seems like a shot-taking contest. six other girls circle the table, one joining the first girl in taking rapid-fire shots, four others egging them on, and one laser-focused on her phone, occasionally sipping water through a straw. from what he can gather, she’s likely the group’s designated driver — though it seems her role has morphed into more of a babysitter. she’s pretty, he’ll admit. just his type. if he was on his third or fourth beer, he’d probably be over there trying to strike up a conversation with her, rather than any of her drunk friends. 
as she looks up and throws a cursory glance around the bar, she catches him staring, her kohl-lined eyes meeting his own. an eyebrow raises as her gloss-coated lips twist, as if to say “don’t even try it.”
oh, how terribly he wishes to slip into her mind and let her know that he has no intention to. 
the ear-piercing screech of yeonjun’s barstool to his right tears his gaze away from her. yeonjun now stands, one arm around taehyun and the other around soobin, the latter sporting a borderline disgusted grimace directed at the older boy hanging off of him while kai simply stands behind the trio of men. yeonjun’s head hangs low below his shoulders, chin nearly touching his chest, as he emits a pathetic groan. at least he’s not puking this time.
“we’re about to go grab some food. this one,” taehyun’s head nods to yeonjun’s sagging frame. “definitely needs it. you coming?”
unwilling to allow the night to end quite yet, beomgyu hums, quickly pays his tab, and allows the brief, silent encounter with the woman to fade away into the back of his mind.
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the rest of the weekend passes without fanfare, and monday returns to rear its ugly head once again. monday is beomgyu’s least favorite day of the week; it brings a raging headache from his 5 a.m. alarm, a bone-deep fatigue that lingers for the rest of the day. it brings grumpy commuters whose knees and elbows uncomfortably bump against his own. it brings people who think that he should give up his seat, and silently tell him so with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. how selfish, they all think whenever he actually bothers to read their thoughts. what a fucking dick, some of them even snarl within the so-called impenetrable walls of their minds, walls he so easily breaks down. he levels those ones with a half-awake glare, pupils gloomy and lifeless. internally, their uneasy reactions make him want to laugh, hysterically cackle in their faces because wow, is he really that scary? he shouldn’t be, but maybe the dark under eyes are doing something for him.
surprisingly, the subway car he frequents is less crowded than usual. not as many people stand in front of him, and he’s actually able to see directly across the car for the first time in a while. doors shut, and he’s left to look around at the regulars and the new patrons that often don’t show up again. they’re easily less interesting than the regulars. really, what can he say? the daily life updates satisfy his nosy tendencies. 
still, he hates mondays. mondays suck. mondays make him want to crawl into a hole and eventually join the bodies at his workplace. they bring out the worst in his mind. all they do is remind him of the neverending cycle that he has trapped himself in — wake up, work, go to sleep, and do it all over again the next day.
mondays bring a lot of things he fundamentally dislikes, but this particular monday also brings you. 
it’s split-second eye contact. nothing more, nothing less. your eyes grow wide, your lips parting just the slightest bit in surprise. though he has not invaded your mind (yet), he can already tell what you are thinking. fuck, he isn’t blind — he knows that he is handsome.
your eyes shoot downward, your head hanging low with your phone clenched between your fingers. one of his eyebrows raises while a small smirk plays on his lips — you’re new, and even better, you’re cute. his dark, seemingly bored gaze trails over to the earbuds nestled in your ears, then to your crossed legs. you glance up at him again, eyes blowing wide again as your thighs press together just enough for him to notice the movement. his own eyes narrow slightly, evaluating the sight. 
you seem...interesting. prim, proper, sitting in a modest-length skirt and a plain blouse and coat that paint you as an unassuming character, just another random person in this sardine can of a train car. yet there’s this glint in your eyes that tells him there is so, so much more to you than what meets the eye — that the innocent, put-together little front that you display to the world is a complete and utter lie. it’s intriguing. new patrons come and go from this particular subway car every day, but you and your fresh face have caught his interest — and so has your odd behavior. 
then, without warning, realization punches him square in the gut.
you were there the other night, with those girls at the bar. the one sitting at the end of the table with the small glass of water as you scrolled through your phone. the one who shot a piercing glare at him as you looked out for your inebriated friends. your current behavior is a far cry from the strong front he first encountered that night, small and oh-so meek and lacking the sharp, piercing edge to your gaze that initially piqued his interest in you. the change, for some reason, intrigues him more. what happened to that feisty glare, that confident air to your posture? he wants to know why you seem so meek, so he taps in to your mind and—
“you’re my dumb little slut, aren’t you? fuckin’ say it—”
beomgyu flinches in his seat, the door to your mind slamming shut as he sits there in shock. did he really just hear that? are you listening to fucking porn on the subway? what the fuck?
he’s never had this happen to him before. he’s accidentally stumbled upon the occasional horny thought before, sure, but listening to porn on the subway? that’s a new one. he decides to give you another glance; your lips are pressed together now, eyes pointed towards the floor as you further shrink into yourself. fuck, you’re so cute, but now he knows you’re also awfully perverted — and for some reason, he feels himself getting hard in his trousers at the thought of entering your mind again. 
he should do something about this little development, shouldn’t he?
yeah, he thinks that he should. a sick sort of curiosity wins over the more logical side of his brain, the side that tells him that he should feel guilty for even thinking about what he’s about to do. he can’t, can he? no, he can — he wants to, he really fucking wants to. opportunities like this don’t just present themselves on a silver platter like this on the regular. if he doesn’t take this chance, then he’d be an absolute fool. 
the subway slows to a stop, the weirdly cheery, robotic voice calling out another stop. not his, thank god. he takes this opportunity to open that pesky little door to your mind again, now fully expecting the depravity echoing in your brain — and rather than do anything drastic too quickly, he simply sits there and listens. he listens through an entire audio alongside you, ignoring the twitch of his cock as he listens to the woman be degraded and praised, in missionary and in doggy, her moans mixing with the man's in a cacophony of pleasure — he loves the way you jump when the sound of a hand striking flesh sounds through your mind. your fleeting sigh of “god, i wish that were me,” causes him to bite his lip. you like being treated like a slut, huh? like a stupid little whore only made to take cock? that’s music to his ears, really — because he likes treating girls like that too. 
as sick and disgusting as it is, he continues to listen as if mindlessly tuning in to a podcast, subtly adjusting himself in his pants as he fights off a raging boner. he wants to be the one to do those things to you. he wants to make you scream and sob and beg for mercy as he completely ravages your body, fuck you until you’re brainless, perfect little slut for him. you’d love that, according to the audios you consume for the remainder of his commute — to be fucked so hard you legs give out from under you, to be owned, fully and completely. he likes that sound of that as well.
a few minutes into the second audio, you take another glance at him, eyes squeezing shut right away once you catch his gaze — and suddenly, your thoughts are full of him. he’s encountered countless strangers who can perfectly visualize their streams of consciousness, and you seem to be yet another one of them. images of you on your knees between his thighs and sucking his cock in the middle of this subway car flood his own mind, switching to one of him fucking you from behind against the wall while everyone else watches, then to him finger fucking you with a hand around your throat…what the fuck. what the fuck? how do you just do that? how do you think of such terribly shameless things while looking so pretty and demure, as if you’re a shy little thing rather than some fucking whore? he shifts his briefcase over his lap again. fuck, he’s so hard it’s starting to hurt. shit, fuck. 
he should be appalled by you, but fiery, ardent lust is the sole emotion that floods his veins. would it be a bad idea to talk to you? no, you want it. you want it so fucking bad. just look at your mind — and he can make all your dirty little fantasies come true, if you would let him. 
just as he’s about to actually do something about you, the subway slows to a stop once again, the same cheery voice announcing his stop. god dammit. pushing himself up to his feet, he finds that you’re doing the same, wide eyes flitting around nervously as you move towards the door and stop nearly right next to him, those earbuds that hide your biggest secret in plain sight still stuck in your ears. he can still hear those degrading words and moans and slapping sounds that still echo through your mind, loud and clear as if those white earbuds are sitting snug in his own ears. 
the doors slide open, and soon enough, he loses sight of you in the surging crowd. stepping out of the subway, he looks around once, twice. you have completely disappeared; nowhere to be found, your mind has grown too far from his own for him to locate nor access, the tether between the two of you frayed to the point of snapping in half. with a brief purse of his lips, he sets off up the stairs. it’s fine, there’s always another day. it’s fine, he tells himself over and over again. there’s nothing he could have done in such a short time, anyway. 
the sun sits high in the sky today, but the bone-chilling air cuts through his puffy coat like tiny needles puncturing his skin, or millions of scalpels slicing open flesh nearly to the bone, cold and sterile and far from comforting. autumn shouldn’t be this cold, and his slightly soured mood isn’t helping his case right now. he should have done something back there, he should’ve opened up the channel between the two of you and taken the plunge. it wouldn’t have hurt to try, but no. no, he let that opportunity go like every other one he’s had in his life. with his jaw set, he promises himself that it won’t happen again. it won’t, because if he keeps living like this — allowing all these opportunities slip through his fingers like grains of sand — he’ll never be able to forgive himself.
and honestly, beomgyu is no clairvoyant, and he should brush off the tickle in his brain as a stupid, naive hunch…but he has a compelling feeling that he’ll be seeing you again tomorrow. 
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when beomgyu returns home, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon, he doesn’t unwind like he usually does. today’s shift was a slow one, with no bodies to preen and primp and no services to set up for, so most of his time was taken up with cleaning, filing documents, and sitting around aimlessly. no matter how much he tried to fend them off, thoughts of you bounced around in his brain for the entire eight hours he was on shift. fuck, he doesn’t even know your name, much less anything else about you, yet he wishes he could travel back in time and redo this morning all over again. he’s not sure how it would have panned out, exactly, but he has a few tricks up his sleeve that would’ve made it exciting.
he shakes his head. the current moment presents much more pressing matters than ruminating on this morning’s terrible decisions; the strain in his trousers proves to be a pertinent issue, a tent formed in the black fabric and aching to be touched. now that the public eye no longer holds his gaze, his apartment door locked shut behind him, he allows himself to give in to his most base instincts. a hand comes down to cup his hardness as he imagines his fingers as yours, you on your knees below him, those adorably wide eyes staring up at him in desperation. you’d wait for permission, right? you’d beg so prettily like a good little slut should? fuck yeah, you would. you’d be good, you’d take what he would give you — and you would love it. 
groaning, he crashes onto his couch, head throwing back against the back cushion as he gropes his cock harder. he’s forgone slipping off his dress shoes and has barely even slipped his coat off before he’s giving in to the pulsing ache in his groin that’s nearly unbearable, the white hot need swirling in his stomach that demands his immediate attention. his belt quickly unbuckled and his trousers pulled halfway down his thighs, he slips his cock from his boxers, gasping at how sensitive he has become. 
“oh fuck,” he breathes out into the quiet air, a shuddered sigh following when his thumb swipes over the angry red head, the bead of precum that has gathered there spreading across his skin. he brings his hand up to his lips, gathering some spit beneath his tongue before letting in loll into his palm. bringing it back down, he drags his hand up and down his shaft, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as pleasure rushes through his veins. he pumps his cock steadily, hips rolling up into his hand as if fucking your throat. eyes fluttering closed, his free hand grips the couch, fingernails digging into the worn leather and leaving half-moon indents in their wake. “fuck. god, fuck.”
would you be able to take him? he’s been told he’s big, most women barely able to take him even after extensive prep. he imagines how you’d keen as he enters you, your back arching so prettily and your walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. how you’d choke and gag on his cock if he decided to use your throat, tears streaming down your cheeks as you peer up at him pathetically, fingers digging into your thighs as you resist the urge to touch yourself. would you like to be slapped around a little, punished with spankings and little taps to your cheek? 
“focus,” he mumbles to no one. to you. “focus, slut. be good for me.” 
he’s delirious at this point, has dived so deep into his fantasies that he barely registers that he’s fucking his fist and not your mouth or sweet little cunt. that doesn’t stop his fingers from tightening their grip, squeezing the head before gliding back down again, then back up, the rhythm of his hips growing frenzied as his high inches closer. his free hand smooths up his stomach, taking his button-up with it as he clenches it with desperate fingers. he bites down on the fabric, pumping himself once, twice, three times before his high hits him, his cum spurting out in staccato ribbons. he’s making a mess, but he can’t bring himself to care when this is the best orgasm he’s had in months. the shirt falls from his mouth as he moans unabashedly. 
“take it,” he groans, his hips canting upward. “fuckin’— fuckin’ take it. shit. such a perfect little whore for me.”
he cums and he cums, spilling all over himself until he’s milked dry. eyes closed, his contracted muscles melt into the couch, hot pants replacing his moans and groans. a few minutes pass before he fully comes down from his headspace and returns back to earth, only for him to realize just how much he came, staining his clothes and coating his skin in creamy white. he blinks. 
reality crashes down on his head. 
he just…jerked off to you. he just came so hard he saw stars just from the mere thought of you. oh, he’s in deeper than he first thought. too deep, too quickly, he can barely breathe. 
“fuck,” beomgyu murmurs as he stares down at his cum-covered abdomen, his sticky hand. “fuck.”
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beomgyu was right: you do come back the next day. and the next. and the next.
over the remainder of the work week, he watches you — well, more so listens to you, but he can’t deny himself the little glimpses he allows himself to take, drinking in how you worry your bottom lip, how the muscles in your throat contract each time you gulp. the poker face that you don crumbles oh so easily whenever he meets your stray gaze. it’s exhilarating, knowing the power he, a complete stranger, has over you. your microscopic slips in expression remain undetected to the rest of the passengers, but he sees every single one. they’re a perfectly entertaining backdrop for your explicit musings. 
he knows he could approach you like a normal human being would, but where’s the fun in that? he’s not quite a normal person in his own right, anyway. instead, he’s decided to keep you in his sights, learning what exactly you enjoy, what you like to hear, preparing for the day where he again gathers the courage to toy with you within the walls of your mind. he’s in deep, and at this point, he’s accepted it if only to justify his sadistic obsession with you. actually, on second thought, he wouldn’t quite call it an obsession, perhaps a morbid curiosity more than anything. yeah, that’s all it can be.
it’s almost as if the universe has sent him a little present in the form of you, an apology for the trials and tribulations that whatever is above has rained down on him this past year or so. of course he’s going to savor it. who wouldn’t? so he sticks to his plan, and keeps watching you, listening to you, observing you, identifying your little quirks and deepest, darkest desires. they’ll be quite useful later, he’s sure. 
over his…research period, he’s found out a lot about you. you like to be bullied, to be called a slut, a whore, but you also enjoy a little praise mixed in: good slut, good whore, pretty girl is so obedient for sir, for daddy, for master. you’re also not too picky in what you listen to, as long as it contains a male dominant in some capacity. couple’s content, threesomes, gangbangs are all on the table, as are solo audios that usually have some sort of plot to them — coworkers to lovers' first date that ends in sex? check. hot librarian who fucks over a table you after closing? that too. he could go on about what he’s heard in just the solo audios you consume, but even that list would be exhaustive. 
by the time friday rolls around, he doesn’t even have to try to search for your mind; call him crazy, but it’s almost as if you, on some subconscious level, know that he wants in and are more than willing to let him. as if you keep the door cracked open just for him. 
at least, he likes to think that you do. 
staying close, but not too close, to you proves to be difficult today. fridays bring with them a surge of new faces that crowd the subway car, which is generally quite annoying, but at the moment, he also finds it to be frustrating. no seats are open when he boards, he can’t even see you through the dense crowd, but you’re there. your mind is there, open and waiting for him to enter.
though he won’t be able to see your cute little reactions, he steps through that mental threshold. 
“it’s okay, baby. shh, don’t cry, you can cum. cum for me, just let go,” a gentle voice coos. aw, you must be having a rough morning, how sad. the only other day you listened to these kinds of audios, you looked absolutely miserable, the corners of your lips pulled down and a deep, pathetic furrow to your brows — it was wednesday, that’s right. two days ago, when you seemed frazzled and completely out of it. a little digging resulted in him learning that you had spilled your coffee all over the concrete on the way here, you thought your hair didn’t look right (even though, to him, it did, it looked perfect — he wished he could’ve told you that), and worst of all, your boss emailed you late the previous night to admonish you for your performance, demanding a meeting first thing that morning. 
still, he wishes he could take care of your boss, eliminate that weight off of your shoulders. if it were up to him, your boss would be sitting in the morgue at his place of work, gray and comatose and unable to admonish you for things that beomgyu is sure you had no control over. because that’s how offices work, right? sink or swim, big fish eat the little ones, blaming those below them for everything they should be taking responsibility for. your boss has to be one of those. he was pig-nosed and donning a constant sneer when you pictured the verbal berating you’d be getting once you got to your workplace. 
that day, he found himself thinking about how he’s become pretty talented with a scalpel. 
“good girl. doing so well for me, pretty girl,” the same voice soothes, soft cries and sniffles from the submissive mixing with the gentle words. he could treat you all sweet too. he could be anything you want, if only you knew him. 
he wants you to know him — needs you to, really.
there’s no clear cut reason for your current sour mood, your thoughts too jumbled together for him to properly decipher. are you picking apart your appearance? did you wake up late? is this all because of your boss again? he might just kill the bastard if that’s the case…if only he could approach you, tell you that everything will be okay, but he doesn’t want to knock down the house of cards he’s spent such precious time building over the course of the week. you’re too special for that. it’s the very reason why he tries to blend into the crowd, why he tries to keep eye contact to a minimum. the last thing he needs is for you to run away from him when you’re one of the only things holding him together.
when the car slows to his and your stop, disappointment nips at the space between his eyebrows. he didn’t even get to see you today, and the end of the work week means that he won’t be seeing you for two entire days. sighing, he falls into his typical routine: move towards the doors, wait for them to open, and follow the other exiting passengers out. where could you be? you’re still here, he knows that much since he’s still connected to you, still hears those soft words and moans, but where the fuck are you? you, as in your body. that you.
with a single cursory glance around, he swears he catches a glimpse of your figure before the crowd swallows you whole. as he’s shoved towards the stairs by the crowd, his chest grows heavy.
friday has just begun, but monday couldn’t come any faster. 
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“so, are you gonna try out?”
yeonjun is far more sober compared to last friday night, his eyes lacking that fatigued droop they always get whenever he’s had too much. beomgyu tears his glazed-over gaze away from the television screen to look at the yeonjun, sinking further into the couch below him. he points to himself. “me?”
yeonjun rolls his eyes, a knee swinging over the arm of the armchair he sits in. “who the fuck else would i be talking to?”
scoffing, beomgyu shoots him a glare. “i don’t know, man. y’don’t have to be a dick about it.”
the open bottle of beer in beomgyu’s hand chills his fingertips, so he switches it to his other hand before taking another sip. meanwhile, soobin plops down next to him with an already open bag of chips, offering some to him. he shakes his head, and soobin shrugs, beginning to munch on them by himself. 
“i’m serious though,” yeonjun continues. “you should really try out. there’s not much to it, just dance to one song and you’re done. i’d probably pass you even if you sucked.”
“that’s nepotism,” taehyun chimes in from the floor, eyes trained on the screen as he shoots a player down in the game him and kai are currently obsessed with. the sound of gunfire fills the living room of soobin and yeonjun’s apartment, the murmurs of the two boys a low drone beneath it as they figure out their best strategy to win. 
he almost wishes he lived here with soobin and yeonjun, or with the other two. yeonjun and soobin, taehyun and kai — only beomgyu lives alone. alone doesn’t necessarily mean lonely, but in beomgyu’s case, it does. maybe that’s why he’s latched onto you so hard: to cure his loneliness. he swats that thought away like one would a pesky mosquito. he hasn’t latched onto you, he admonishes himself, he’s simply curious. yeah, curious. 
just a little innocent curiosity. 
disregarding taehyun’s comment, yeonjun raises an eyebrow towards beomgyu. “i know i was drunk when i said that shit last week, but you really have been acting weird since you started at that job. we’ve all noticed.”
“yeah, it’s like you’ve gotten more reserved, or something,” soobin says, words muffled by his chewing. beomgyu grimaces, shifting closer to the arm of the couch. 
“you’re the most introverted one here, you can’t say shit,” kai snorts. soobin throws a chip at his head.
“anyway,” yeonjun butts in with a scalding glare before an argument can begin. soobin and kai blanch, mouths closing. “we’re just…concerned about you.”
“is this some kind of intervention?” beomgyu laughs, disbelief apparent in his tone. he’s fine. he has you now.
“no, we just want you to know that there’s other things you could do that would make you happier than work at a fucking funeral home,” taehyun says, eyes still not straying from the tv. 
“like joining my dance crew,” yeonjun tacks on. 
beomgyu sighs. they’re kind of right, if he’s being honest with himself, but is he ready to put himself out there again? is he ready to face the potential of rejection, of failure? he’s had his life fall apart in front of his eyes once already, what if it happens again?
“...i guess.”
“c’mon.” yeonjun shifts around until he’s leaning on his elbows, focus solely on beomgyu. “tryouts are next saturday. i know how fast you can learn choreography. hell, you could probably learn something in a couple hours and be fine.”
“honestly, you’ll never know if you don’t try,” soobin chimes in. “it might end in something good.”
“yeah,” beomgyu says before taking another large swig of beer. “yeah, i know.”
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and so another weekend passes, and monday returns once again. 
soobin’s brief, sage advice plays through his mind again and again. although he understands that soobin meant for it to apply to his current career situation, beomgyu has adopted it for his situation with you instead. he should try, he’s going to try, eventually. 
it might end in something good, he tells himself over and over again. he has to try.
mondays are a bit less excruciating now that you’re around. he has only known you for a week, but it’s been long enough to know that you make his day-to-day routine bearable — hell, he’ll stay at his terrible job as long as you keep showing up each morning. the day that you don’t will be the nail in his coffin — he chuckles at his stupid joke. yeonjun is rubbing off on him too much.
the sky is overcast today, and endless expanse of gray that contrasts the warmth of the changing leaves that line the sidewalk. it might rain soon, he surmises, but he hopes that it won’t. he’s forgone an umbrella today. digging his hands further into his coat pockets, he ducks into the subway station, descending the stairs and weaving through the crowd until he finds his usual platform. when he gets there, you’ve already arrived, ears vacant of those white earbuds, but it’s not a foreign sight to him. you typically put them in once you sit down. the fact that you get on and get off at the same stop as him…he almost likes to think of all of this as fate. 
maybe the universe really is trying to apologize. 
the subway arrives at the platform a few minutes later — minutes in which he tries not to stare at you. he’s not a creep, he swears that he’s not. he’s not a creep, he’s not a creep — he repeats this to himself as he follows behind you into the subway car the two of you frequent, he finds a seat across from you a few feet to your left. he can’t be too obvious.
and most importantly, he’s not a creep. 
you dig around in your bag. ah, here come those infamous earbuds, he’s sure of it — but then they don’t, and then the digging through your bag grows a degree more frantic, your lips parting as you continue shoving whatever is in there aside in search of your most precious possession.
you feel like crying as panic surges through your veins. oh god, you forgot them. how could you have forgotten them? what are you going to do now? 
beomgyu decides to tap into your mind in that moment, finding you in an unbelievably frazzled state. his heart clenches in his chest, he wishes he could help somehow…
wait. he could…oh my god, he could. no, that’s sick, he’s not a creep — well, no, he could. he definitely fucking could, and you’d probably end up liking it…
he could be your temporary replacement for today — no, he could become your constant source, the one you need to get through the day. he could become your audios. he wants to. they’d be far more…interactive, if he did, after all. you’d love what he could do to your pretty fucking body just with access to your mind. reading thoughts isn’t the only thing he can do — and soobin’s right: he’ll never know if he doesn’t try. how could he sit here any longer and not give in to his burning desire to ravage you? you know what? fuck it. this is the perfect opportunity, served up once again on a silver platter, waiting for him to take. he’s not going to let it slip away again — and oh, you just look so devastated right now, how terrible would he be if he didn’t help you?
in a split-second moment, beomgyu decides that today is the day. deep breath. focus. okay, he can do this. one, two, three…
“hello, pretty girl.”
you flinch before you look up and around, only to find no one is looking at you — well, he is, but through his peripherals. wouldn’t want to get caught, would he? suppressing a smirk at your reaction, he shifts in his seat.
“was someone just talking to me?” you ask yourself, brows furrowing as your eyes continue to dart around. your hand comes up to your ear to see if you accidentally remembered your earbuds, your frown deepening when you register that they are, indeed, not in your ears. glancing around again, your eyes skirt over his form. he shivers at the thought of what’s to come, biting his lip as he avoids your gaze. “is this some sort of prank?”
“calm down, sweetheart, this isn’t a prank. now, stop looking around, you’re the only one who heard me.”
your brain flits from thought to thought so quick he can barely keep up, the volume of them rising as you panic. your fingers clench the strap of your purse as if to ground yourself. “am i hallucinating right now? what the fuck? this has to be a prank. should i go to the doctor’s? no, my boss would kill me if i called out, but fuck, i should really go if i’m hearing things—”
beomgyu chuckles, the sound echoing through your mind as well. freezing, your muscles lock up as you look around again. your distressed stream of consciousness stops for a moment, before resuming at a much more rapid pace. “what the fuck, i need to call out right now, where’s my phone—”
sighing, he leans back into his seat and closes his eyes. so cute, how easily you spiral. “quiet that pretty little head of yours, pretty girl. you’re not hallucinating, this is all real. very real.”
a few moments pass before your internal freakout quiets down. for once, silence fills your mind…and rather than him break it, it’s you: “someone’s…talking to me through my mind? this is real?”
“such a smart girl. you figured it out so quickly,” beomgyu taunts, resisting the urge to coo again. adrenaline rushes through his veins, urging him to continue. you need him. he can make you happy. he just needs to hear you say it.
your thighs press together at the praise, fingers digging into the trousers you had chosen to wear. you shouldn’t be feeling like this. this is strange, terribly strange, and even a little frightening, now that you are aware that someone — that a complete stranger, at that — has full reign over your conscious. yet, at the same time, you’re curious to see how this will play out.
“and you can speak to me, too, if you focus hard enough…” his voice trails off. okay, you can do that. allowing your eyelids to flutter shut, you begin to breathe deeply until even the mechanical noises of the subway and the murmurs of passengers vacate your senses. mind empty, you exhale a shaky breath. focus. stay focused. 
“hmm, impressive. you’re a natural at this.” god, he needs to quit praising you like that with his deep voice. by the way he laughs, you know he heard that too. fuck. 
“who are you and why the fuck are you in my brain?” you decide to ask. straight to the point, no fluff to it, it’s reminiscent of your attitude at the bar where he first laid eyes upon you. this is the wall you put up towards strangers and any other threat to your life, but little do you know, beomgyu’s breached that wall already. this is just a little front. “answer me, you fucking asshole—”
“woah, woah, watch the language. why would i tell you who i am? it’s much more exciting this way, don’t you think?” the smile in his voice is unmistakable, but he purses his lips to keep them from curling upward. 
you start to gnaw on your bottom lip, biting hard enough for pain to bloom across your nerve endings. this is stranger you’re talking to right now, a stranger who you’re talking to through your fucking thoughts. this is weird. you never signed up for this. “get the hell out of my mind before— before i—” 
“before you what? can’t kick me out, you don’t know how to do that, pretty girl.”
fuck, he’s right — wait, if he’s in your mind right now, can he also control it? is he going to hurt you? is he going to make you his puppet and go on a murder spree? is he in this car with you, or somewhere else? what if…what if…
beomgyu can almost feel your panic swelling in his own chest. fuck, he needs to put a stop to your spiraling before it gets out of control. if you freak out now, then all of his work over the past week will be for naught. after all, he’s not going to do anything without your permission. the last thing he wishes to do is scare you off completely before he can have his fun. with great urgency, he cuts off your ramblings, “hey, now, relax for me, princess. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m as human as you are, just a bit…different, i guess. and i am in the same car as you right now.”
rather than respond, you look around again, eyeing every single man around you with suspicion, even him. he stares at the floor, maintaining what he hopes to be a neutral, borderline bored, expression. he needs to keep it together. he’s gotten this far, he can’t ruin this. “looking around again, huh? if i were that easy to spot, then this game wouldn’t be very fun, would it?” 
“game? fucking with my mind is a game to you?” 
the corners of his lips twitch up before he’s forcing them back down. this is it, the moment he has been waiting oh so patiently for. keep it together.
“well, not really — i actually have a proposition for you, if you’d hear me out.”
scoffing, you urge him along. “just get on with it.”
“so impatient. that’s okay. i can work with that,” he smirks. “i know what you listen to every morning, you know.”
your heart drops to your stomach. he what? oh god, you think you’re going to be sick. your arms wrap around your stomach, squeezing hard. this is bad, this is really fucking bad. “do you want money, or something? are— are you trying to blackmail me right now? i’ll have you know, i’m actually kinda broke right now. i really don’t wanna end up homeless, can you just. pick someone else to fuck with? there’s like twelve different businessmen in this car, i’m sure they’re rich and corrupt—”
beomgyu’s brows raise imperceptibly. jesus, are you always this flighty? “woah, chill. i’m not here to judge you — or blackmail you, for that matter. i’m not evil. aw, don’t look all shameful now. i told you i’m not here to judge — i actually wanna help you, if you’d let me.”
“help me?” you dumbly echo. “help me how?”
“well,” he starts. “i noticed you forgot your earbuds today, and you just looked so sad and lost without them. how else are you going to get through your commute? and then i thought maybe i could do something about that. y’know, help you out, get you through the morning.”
“so you invaded my privacy just to tell me that you wanna dirty talk to me for the rest of my commute? is that what you mean? ‘cause if so, that’s pretty weird,” you reply, though your stray thoughts that dart around tell him that you’re actually considering his offer — it’s tempting, isn’t it? to give in, to let his deep voice get you all squirmy and needy, knowing he could be anyone in this subway car. still, your words make him laugh, because of course you’re deflecting right now. it’s okay, he hasn’t given you the full story quite yet.
“that’s only part of my offer, princess,” he starts. “i can read minds, yes, but i can also do…other things.”
oh, you’re really considering it now. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let him. his voice is nice, and maybe, just maybe, it’s kind of making you horny. after a deep, long breath, you gulp once, then, with curiosity dripping from your tone, you ask, “...like what?”
jackpot.
beomgyu’s high on a mix of adrenaline and dopamine, utterly giddy because he’s got you right where he wants you, where he needs you. he’s played his cards just right, shoved your worries to the side and drew out your curiosity enough that you’ve taken his bait. perfect, oh, this is perfect. he knew you’d be good for him.
“it would be much easier for me to show you.”
“then show me,” you immediately reply, heat flooding your cheeks at the sheer desperation in your voice. god, calm down. he hasn’t even done anything yet.
chuckling at your internal conflict, he decides not to comment. “tell me if you don’t like something. i’ll stop.” he watches as you slightly nod to yourself, a soft “okay,” echoing through your head and into his — thus, he sets his plan into action. 
something warm caresses your calf, but when you look down, there’s nothing there. your eyes widen — was that a hand? it definitely felt like one, the way it creeped up the back of your leg, calloused fingertips pressing into your skin. a shiver races down your spine. that had to have been him. 
“it was,” he confirms, then his voice is growing impossibly deeper, adopting that gruff edge that you love so much. “you want more, princess? i can give you more.”
another phantom hand skirts over your waist, dragging down over your hips to your right thigh, just to stop there. biting your bottom lip, you nod, hoping that whoever is in your head right now sees it, wherever he is. the hand moves to your inner thigh; despite how tightly pressed together they are, it skirts over your skin with ease, seemingly beneath your trousers. “i need words, pretty girl, or i might just stop right now. and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
no, you wouldn’t, not at this point. the unbearable ache currently building in your core makes you want to cry; you haven’t felt this level of desperation in a while, and you need to be touched. you need it so fucking bad. 
“please.” the single word comes out meek, quiet. shame flushes your face, a fiery heat that spreads up to your ears and down your neck. 
you hear the way his breath shudders, causing your own hitch. “fuck, you’re so cute, but i need more than that. beg. beg for me to touch you.”
his voice — fuck, his voice is so deep, so dark and wanton. you wonder what he sounds like when he’s moaning, how he would sound if he fucked you, pounded you into the mattress so hard you saw stars. the image of a faceless stranger fucking you from behind, your back arched behind you and your face buried in the sheets, as he holds your wrists behind your back flits across the big screen of your mind. you shake it away, but the man in your head is already tutting. “use your words, sweetheart, not pictures — though i’d love to do that to you too. you’ve got quite the imagination on you.” 
beomgyu’s cock twitches in his boxers as you whine, frantic pleas bubbling up from the deepest, darkest recesses of your mind once he takes the sensation of his hand away from your thigh. you sound halfway dumb already, begging for his hands, his cock, his tongue — anything. you’ll take anything just, “please, sir. please touch me. need you to touch me so bad.”
you don’t even know who he is, yet you’re being so obedient, calling him sir, begging so sweetly for him — it’s like you’re begging straight into his ear. his heart swells at the thought, as does his cock. you sound so pretty, but he finds himself wishing he could hear these words come from your lips instead. 
“yeah? my little slut needs more?” he prods, laughing meanly when you whimper out a yes. “aw, ‘course she does. desperate whores always need more, don’t they? so greedy.”
you have to swallow down a whimper at that, focusing so intently on keeping quiet that your nails have dug into your palms deep enough to almost break skin. the pain seems to help keep you grounded — that is, until you feel the sting of a palm against your backside. you flinch in your seat, gasping sharply. the man sitting next to you glances over, but you only hang your head and shrink into yourself. he looks away. 
“focus, whore. you’re drawing too much attention to yourself.”
two hands are touching you now. one cupping your pussy, the other wrapped around your throat, pressing into the sides of your neck so you start to grow dizzy. the hand on your throat releases its grip to slide down to your chest, circling around one of your nipples before a thumb swipes over the pebbled flesh. your back arches off of your seat when the sensation morphs into that of lips, plush warmth enveloping your tit before the sharp bite of teeth interrupts. you inhale a shaky breath from your nose as lips return to soothe the sting. despite the hard press of your thighs, the hand on your pussy drags up and down your folds, dipping down to your entrance before dragging up to your clit. a tiny squeak sneaks up your throat before you’re masking it with a cough. 
“aren’t you just a sensitive little thing? so wet too,” he coos, shifting his briefcase over his lap to gain some semblance of friction. his fingertips tingle as if your wetness coats them right now. fuck, he’s hard. if it were up to him, you’d be taking his cock right now, moaning so prettily as he presses you up against the wall and fucks up into you, your legs giving out from under you because he’s just making you feel so good, isn’t he? never mind that, he has a job to do. “how about i just…”
two lithe fingers breach your walls while a thumb continues to slowly circle your clit, barely brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves. you feel like you’re going insane, trying your best to hold still as his fingers begin to move inside you, curling up into your walls. searching, he’s searching for that spot inside you that will get you crying—
then he finds it. 
your knee jerks up, your legs falling open slightly before you’re pressing them closed again as he abuses it over and over again, crooking his fingers just right to find it with each thrust. your hips roll up into the sensation, stilling as soon as you realize that you’re squirming too much, being too obvious. people are starting to stare, calm down. calm the fuck down.
god, you don’t think you can. it’s too difficult to keep still with the way he’s finger-fucking you right now. with the way there’s lips suddenly circling your clit, sucking the pearl in so that his tongue can play with it. little kitten licks that make you want to scream and cry and beg for mercy because you don’t know if you can keep up this front of normalcy with the way he’s touching you.
it’s like he’s speaking directly into your ear right now, warm breath fanning over your earlobe, your cheek. “wanna see you fall apart, wanna see you lose it in front of all of these people, baby. bet you wanna cum right now, yeah? just wanna feel good, don’t even care if you quake and cry in public? you’re that fucking desperate for it?” 
you nod to yourself, eyes squeezing shut. you’re so close. oh god, you’re going to cum. you’re going to cum like a brainless whore in the middle of a fucking subway car. you’re sick. you’re fucking sick for enjoying this.
you’re just as bad as him, beomgyu decides. he knew you’d like what he could give you, he knew you needed him. it was just a matter of time before you realized that fact. that’s okay, because he needs you just as badly. it’s a carnal need, white hot in the center of his stomach — fuck, he’s obsessed with you. he wants you to be his forever. 
and beomgyu knows you’re close, but he’s not quite ready to give you what you want. 
“please, oh god. please let me cum. fuckfuckfuck— no, please don’t stop!” you cry as he slows the pace of his fingers. “please no, ‘m so close! no no no—”
“you drive me crazy, it’s only fair if i return the favor. makes it more fun.” ripping the sensation away from you completely, he watches you bottom lip tremble as you blink back tears, your body melting into your seat as the pleasure fades away. “now, now, don’t cry, sweetheart. i have something even better for you.”
a few seconds pass before something breaches your entrance, your walls stretching to their limit, yet the sting of pain never arrives. filled to the brim, you throw your head back against the window behind you. to others, you seem to just be resting your eyes, but the way your mouth falls open is not lost on beomgyu. he knows you can feel him everywhere, knows you can feel the way the head of his cock nearly touches your cervix, how it presses into every single sensitive spot inside you. he knows he’s big, but you take it like a champ, your hips grinding down into the seat, as if to bring him deeper inside you. what a little whore, his little whore. 
“y’feel that, pretty girl? feel my big fucking cock inside you?” he asks as your chest heaves, a feeble attempt in holding yourself together. “calm down, now. i’m gonna start moving, okay?”
he doesn’t wait for your response before he’s spoon-feeding you the sensation of his cock pulling out until nothing but his cockhead remains within your walls. a few seconds pass, then your begging returns. tearful, this time, fucking pathetic. he basks in the power that rushes through his entire being. you need him. you need him in order to feel good, and he loves that you do. he brings a hand down to adjust himself in his pants, hissing quietly at the ache that the action brings. he needs to fuck you right now. physically fuck you, none of this thought manipulation bullshit — but no, he has to be patient. he can be patient as long as it’s you. 
the subway is slowing down again, and he comes to the gross realization that he only has a few minutes before both of you must depart. dammit, he has to make this quick. 
meanwhile, you’re already halfway to your high just at the mere feeling of him inside you. as soon as his cock begins to move again, you’re choking back moans, head hanging low as your muscles tense and your hands press into your lap. you can feel him in your throat each time he thrusts back in, his thrusts growing faster and faster until he’s pounding into you. 
“fuck fuck fuckkkkk!” you wail, encouraging him to continue. in reality, your walls clench around nothing, but your mind paints a different picture. you almost beg for him to cum inside, but you cant find the words, too fucked out to think about anything else but the knot in your stomach that grows tighter with each passing second. “fuck, please. please, fuck i’m, nghh—”
imaginary fingers swipe across your clit, and you’re a goner. 
thighs quaking, your release coats your panties, walls fluttering, but the movement of his cock doesn’t stop until you’re begging for mercy. beomgyu almost cums in his pants at the depraved wails you emit, half-baked sentences pleading for him to “s-slow down, please. i can’t, no, i can’t — shit!”
finally — finally — he grants you reprieve from the onslaught of pleasure. your body slumps into your seat, your eyes shut as you begin to float back down to earth. the clack-clack-clack of the subway slows until it stops completely. the usual robotic voice announces his stop, but you seem so out of it that you don’t even register that you need to get off. 
“good job, baby. you put on quite the show for me,” he praises as he rises to his feet. luckily, he decided on wearing a longer coat today which he uses to cover up his raging hard-on. this has to be fate.
no response. with an excited gleam in his eye, he disconnects from your mind and moves towards you. looming above you, he drinks in the beads of sweat that have formed along your hairline, the wrinkles in your trousers where you gripped the fabric a wee bit too hard, your dreamy eyes and how they blink down at his black loafers before raising to meet his own. concern has painted itself across his features, his head tilting as he holds your bleary gaze.
“are you alright, miss? you look a bit ill.”
you blink once. twice. god, how are you so cute even after getting fucked so hard? he can barely control himself from blurting out who he is.
“what—what stop is this?” you ask him, eyes wide and red-rimmed from your earlier tears. he tells you, and he watches those same eyes widen. “oh shit, this is my stop!”
attempting to stand, you stumble straight into his chest. he catches you with gentle hands before he’s helping you steady yourself. your legs tremble like those of a newborn fawn, sexy yet terribly adorable. he gulps at the image of you unable to walk, legs so sore that you’re forced to let him dote on you, that forms inside his mind. later. that can come later, don’t get too hasty. 
“oh, you’re a bit shaky there,” he murmurs, a hand curling around you elbow when you stumble again. “are you sure you’re alright?”
“i’m f-fine, sorry for the trouble,” you reply with a polite, yet jittery, smile, stepping away from him. he wants to tell you to come closer again, he wants to smell your sweet perfume again, feel your warm skin beneath his fingertips. 
but good things come to those who wait.
“no worries.” with a charming smile, he shuffles beside you, until the two of you have exited with the rest of the crowd. he catches your wrist before you can get too far, and you turn to face him once more. afterglow looks wonderful on you. “it looks like we’re getting off at the same stop today, so would you like me to walk with you until you’re feeling a bit better? i’m sure some fresh air will do you good.”
you pause for a moment, hesitating. have you seen him somewhere before? you feel like you have. “i…that would be great, actually. thank you.”
“of course,” he nods, holding back a smirk. he can’t help the words that escape him next.
“lead the way, then…pretty girl.”
the way you look back at him with alarmed realization — even a hint of fear — causes a grin to split open his lips. you begin to sputter as you back away, but he merely follows with light, casual steps. “w-what, who—who are you—”
his smile grows knife-sharp. the door opens — it always does. 
“aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he coos inside your mind, biting his lip as he watches your knees buckle. “who else could it be?”
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© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 10 months
Text
Protector
Requested by @captaincvans
Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, a little bit of Sam Winchester x little sister!reader
Synopsis: your big brother Dean has always been your protector
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It started when you were four years old. Dean answered one of John’s phones, and was shocked to hear your tiny voice on the other end.
“Who is this? How did you get this number?”
“My mommy,” you were sobbing into the phone, and Dean’s heartbeat picked up. Had someone hurt the little girl on the other end? “My mommy said to call if-if bad things happened. She said it was my daddy’s number.”
To say Dean was shocked would be the understatement of the century, but he forced himself to remain calm, if only for the little girl who clearly needed help. John had gone out on a job, and Sam had walked to a nearby store to grab some supplies.
“Ok, well where’s your mommy?”
“The monster…he-he…” you broke down into sobs, and Dean didn’t need to hear anything else.
Dean was usually used to waiting for John’s orders before doing just about anything, but somehow now he knew just what to do. Every instinct inside him screamed to help you from the moment he heard your voice.
He didn’t know then, but that instinct would follow him for the rest of his life.
Dean’s relationship with you was different than his with Sam. Dean had practically raised Sam, but he literally raised you. The older the boys got, the more John left them for hunts. And there was the age difference; he was only four years older than Sam, but Dean had already grown up and started hunting by the time you came into his life. And after John died, the two of you became closer than ever, and he took on his role as caretaker even more seriously.
So, needless to say, hunting wasn’t in the cards for you. Of course Dean taught you how to defend yourself, but he knew that once you started hunting, you’d be stuck in that life forever, and that wasn’t a choice he was going to let you make as a teenager.
A part of you always wanted to fight him on it, not because you thought you’d love hunting, but because your big brothers risked their lives on an almost-daily basis, and you wanted to be there to help them. However, it didn’t take long for you to realize that being on a hunt would just put them in more danger; Dean would be so worried about you that he wouldn’t keep his head on straight. You weren’t going to be the reason he got distracted and killed on a hunt.
So you stayed behind.
But that didn’t mean that you were always safe.
“Crowley I swear, if you touch one hair on her head-“
“Let me guess, they’ll never find the body?”
“Oh no, they will,” Dean’s fists were clenched so hard, his palms were going numb. “They’ll find it, and they’ll keep finding it. Little bits, everywhere, maybe I’ll even drop you in a couple of different states. I’ll cut you up nice and slow, it’ll take weeks before you’re dead, and that’s if I’m feeling generous enough to let you die at all.”
“My my my, someone is very protective about his little pet. However, your mummy should’ve taught you some manners, because you see…” Dean flinched when he heard your screams over the phone. “I don’t like to be threatened, squirrel.”
“Ok, ok!” Dean relented. Your screams stopped.
“Good. Now, here’s my ultimatum,” Crowley’s voice rose in anger, “If you ever want to see this little runt again, the first thing you’re gonna do, is drop the attitude, and show some respect!” Crowley cleared his throat, and returned to his easygoing, neutral tone. “After all, I am the king of hell. And then, after that, you’re going to stop meddling in my affairs. That’s not so bad, is it?”
Dean was about to throw out a snarky response when your voice broke in.
“Don’t listen to him, Dean. He’s just a liar, he’ll betray y-“ your desperate, frightened voice cut off with a high-pitched scream, and Dean could swear he heard Crowley laughing.
“Now now, darling, that’s not very nice. Name-calling is for children. Oh that’s right,” Crowley’s laughter started up again. “You are a child.”
“Stop it!” Not seeing what was going on was driving Dean insane. He could only imagine what Crowley was doing to you. “Alright, Crowley, you get what you want. Just let her go!”
The screaming stopped again.
“Now, that’s sweet, Dean. But I’m afraid I don’t exactly trust your word. So, I’m going have to keep your little rugrat here for a little longer, just to make sure you make good on your promise. Deal?”
“No no no, Crowley you can’t just-“
“I think we’re done here.”
The click that followed might as well have been an atomic bomb.
“We got a location.”
Dean had never jumped up that fast in his entire life.
“Finally, let’s go.”
“Dean, hold on,” Sam placed his hand out, stopping Dean in his tracks. “We don’t know how many demons are guarding it.”
“You know what, Sam? I don’t really care. There could be a thousand demons in there for all I care. She’s in there, so I’m going.” Dean brushed past Sam, who reluctantly followed him into the Impala.
“I’m just saying, it would be nice to have a plan.”
“I have a plan.” Dean peeled out of the driveway and sped along the road.
“The plan is get her back.”
You heard them before you saw them. It would be impossible not to; the screaming of demons and the thud as bodies hit the floor wasn’t exactly quiet.
However, when the door burst open, it wasn’t your brothers who came in.
Crowley rushed toward you, his hand outstretched to grab you and teleport you with him. A split second before his hand reached your shoulder, the demon blade whizzed past his ear and struck his arm, throwing him off balance and onto the floor. Before he could get back up, Dean was on him, not even bothering with the knife as he pounded on Crowley’s face. Sam rushed in after him, grabbing Dean by the shoulder and pulling him off.
“That’s enough, Dean! Just use the kni-“
Before either brother could move towards the demon blade, Crowley had disappeared.
“No!” Dean slammed his fist against the wall, and was about to do it again when he heard it.
“Dean?”
Never, not even when you were little, had Dean ever heard you sound so small; so fragile. He turned, his gaze instantly softening, his fists relaxing as he rushed to your side. He quickly untied the ropes holding you to a metal chair, and as soon as you were free you collapsed into his waiting arms.
“You’re ok,” Dean’s eyes stung as he gripped you tightly to him. “You’re safe now, I’m here.”
“Is she ok?” Sam stepped up behind Dean, and Dean reluctantly pulled away to check you for injuries.
There was a gash along your cheek, and he saw several cuts on your arms and legs, but what really worried him was the blood covering the front of your shirt.
“Baby, can you…” Dean touched the pool of blood dripping down your stomach. You lifted your shirt a few inches, and he saw a deep cut running along your ribs. Blood was still gushing freely from the cut, and Dean quickly removed his top layer of flannel, pressing it against the wound.
Sam flinched when you cried out, and Dean winced.
“I know, I know it hurts honey. I need you to hold it there, though.” You took the shirt from him and he nodded, “Yeah, good, press it tight.” He glanced around one more time to be sure no demons were coming, before he scooped you into his arms. You cried out again when he jostled you, and he tried to ignore you as he turned to Sam.
“You gotta watch my back, I’ve got her, but I don’t know if there are any more demons still here.”
Sam nodded, taking the demon blade.
“Alright, I’ll drive.”
“Do we need to take her to a hospital?” Sam glanced to the back of the Impala, where your head was resting in Dean’s lap as he held his shirt against your cut.
“I’m ok,” your voice was quiet, almost sleepy.
“We should take her in,” Dean insisted.
“It doesn’t look like she’s lost that much blood,” Sam hesitantly argued.
“Dean, I’m ok,” you turned your gaze from your injury to your big brother. “Really, just stitch me up. I’ll be fine.”
Dean relented hesitantly, mostly because he didn’t put it past Crowley to try to alert local authorities to all the bodies he’d left in his wake saving you. The last thing you needed was to be stuck in a hospital while Sam and Dean got arrested.
“Alright, ok. But you gotta stay awake, understand?”
You were silent for a few seconds, and when your voice lifted he could hear the tears you were trying to hold back.
“He wouldn’t let me sleep.”
Dean felt the white-hot anger rising in him, but he forced it down.
“You…but you were gone for three days.”
“I know. But ev-every time I tried to sleep…” you picked at one of the cuts, and Dean got the picture. He glanced up to see Sam gripping the steering wheel with all his might, his knuckles turning snow-white.
“I’m sorry,” Dean’s soft voice was only beat by the softness in his eyes as he looked down at you. “I’m so sorry. But you gotta stay awake just a little bit longer, I’m sorry.”
You knew he wasn’t just apologizing for that.
“Dean, it’s not your fault.”
He turned to look out the window, and you knew he didn’t believe you.
“Dean,” you tried to raise your voice, but it just sent you into a fit of coughing. His head whipped back to look at you, and he squeezed his hand under your head, lifting you up a little so you could breathe.
“Honey, don’t talk, don’t talk. You’re ok, just breathe.”
“Dean,” you took a deep breath, “Dean it’s not. It’s not your fault-“
“Shh, shh,” he insisted, eyes flitting nervously over your face. “Kiddo please, don’t talk.”
“Then say it.”
Dean sighed, and you knew he wouldn’t mean it, but you wanted him to say it anyway.
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“I’m sorry,” Dean winced when you sucked in a breath, trying desperately to stay still as he sewed you up.
“I’m ok,” you insisted.
“Ok, I’m done,” Dean tied off the last stitch, and you hesitantly stood and headed to your bathroom to shower off the blood that was all but covering you.
Dean sat on your bed while you were gone, staring down at the blood on his hands, disgusted but somehow unable to get up to wash it off.
He stayed there until you returned, a clean shirt and your pajama pants on. You stepped up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again. You tugged on his arm without speaking, and he followed you mechanically as you pulled him into your bathroom.
You turned on the sink water and guided his hands under the flow, rubbing his hands until they were clean and your blood was running down the drain. You handed him a soft towel, and he slowly dried his hands.
The two of you stood there in silence, unsure of whether to move or not. Then suddenly, the two of you moved in sync. He opened his arms just as you moved towards him, and he wrapped you into his arms. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, while the other rested on the small of your back. You felt his chin rest on the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.
“I’m so sorry,” he choked.
You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but you knew that you could scream it til doomsday and Dean still wouldn’t believe it. So instead you said what he needed to hear.
“I’m ok.”
You weren’t the only one who hadn’t been able to sleep during your captivity, and you knew it. Dean looked horrible, his eyes dark and his hair greasy and sticking out in strange angles. You didn’t think you could convince him to eat or shower, not yet at least. He hadn’t left your side in the hour since you got back, and you figured he would want to watch over you while you slept.
So, if you couldn’t make him eat, you figured you at least knew a way to make him sleep.
You let him tuck you into your bed before grabbing onto his arm as he turned to go.
“Stay with me,” you insisted. He nodded and reached to grab a chair.
“No, with me,” you lifted a corner of the blanket. Dean didn’t speak, he just climbed in next to you and let you lean against his arm.
After a few minutes, Dean’s breathing evened out and you smiled.
He was your protector, always.
But maybe there was some ways that you could save him, too.
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bunnycobie · 1 year
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best friend's brother - choi san
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pairing: choi san x f!reader summary: when your night with your crush doesn't go to plan, you find comfort in the person you'd least expect genre: smut, some fluff, some angst word count: 3k content/tw: nonidol characters, college au, san has a sister named mina (not meant to be mina from twice), other random idol names are used, fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex (don’t do this in real life) a/n: this may be a cringefest bc it was my first fic
18+ minors dni (masterlist)
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you tap on jimin’s instagram story for an update on where he might be. he’s in a car with his friends, most likely on his way here. replaying the post over and over, you don’t realize how long you’ve been staring at his smile until you’re hit on the leg with a pillow, snapping you back into reality.
“are you even listening to me?” mina snaps. you grin and sit up against the pillows on her bed.
today is mina’s birthday, and she decided to throw a party at her house tonight. but even though she invited tons of people, she only cares about one guest. so much so, that she’s cycled through five different outfits just to look as good as possible.
“you look hot.” you say jokingly, grabbing and hugging the pillow she just threw at you. “jin is going to notice you, quit overthinking it.”
mina groans. “why aren’t they here yet?”
“they’re on their way right now, they’ll probably be here soon. can we please go now?” you whine. the party started almost an hour ago, but you’ve been waiting for your friend to finish getting ready.
“i just need a few more minutes. go ahead, i’ll find you later.” she says, looking in the mirror as she puts on a pair of earrings.
as you leave the room, your ears are instantly flooded with music despite the party only being downstairs. you head towards the bathroom and step inside to check your hair and makeup in the mirror.
you and mina invited jimin and jin to the party, and it’s the only thing you two have thought about all week. mina and jin are practically a thing at this point, but you can’t say the same for you and jimin. you’re always too nervous to hold a conversation with him. it’s nothing a little liquid courage can’t fix, though. you hope.
there’s a knock on the bathroom door. you open it expecting it to be mina. instead, you’re greeted by a large frame with silky black hair.
of course, it’s mina’s brother san.
despite being a player on campus, he’s really sweet and protective over you. presumably because you’re his sister’s friend. still, he’s always been respectful and never tried to make a move on you.
but you’ve definitely caught him staring once or twice, and youd be lying if you said you didn’t do the same.
“oh, hi y/n.” he examines your outfit, making you feel self-conscious. “i started to think i’d never see you guys come out of that room.”
“sorry,” you smile awkwardly, walking around him into the hallway. “she’s nervous about jin.”
“jin’s coming?”
“yeah, and jimin”. you reply.
san’s posture straightens. “so you actually like him?”
“i never said that.” you protest.
“i hear you guys all the time. you aren’t really discreet about it.” he smiles.
you can’t help but notice his dimples every time he does that. your relationship with him has only ever been platonic, but you’re almost always dumbfounded by his appearance.
“i mean, maybe. i can’t really tell if he feels the same way though.” you say, fidgeting with your hands.
san leans against the wall. “i wouldn’t waste my time on him,”.
“what? what do you mean?”
“i don’t like him. it doesn’t matter though; you can do better than him.”
who the hell does he think he is?
“you don’t even know him. why should i care what you think?” you say, furrowing your brows.
in reality, san knows jimin more than you’d thin. they’ve never been friends, but he’s spent enough time around him to know that he’s not worth dating.
san is well aware of his position in your life, but he still cares and doesn’t want to see you hurt. your words stung a little, but he wouldn’t let you know that.
san grins and lets out a soft chuckle that pisses you off a little.
mina’s bedroom door opens and she steps out in yet another outfit choice.
“it took you an hour to come up with that?” san says teasingly, gesturing to mina’s outfit.
mina’s eyes widen. “is it actually that bad?” she gaps.
“he’s joking.” you smile, despite the anger you felt a few seconds ago. “you look cute, can we go now?” you asked, grabbing mina’s hand and pulling her towards the stairs.
not only would she have actually changed her outfit again, but you would’ve done anything to get out of that situation. you’re an adult and can date whoever you want. why is san treating you like you’re his sister... or his girlfriend?
as you walk away with mina, you glance over your shoulder to see san still looking at you, except this time he’s more serious.
the party was open invitation, but you’re still surprised by the number of people that actually showed. you and mina grab two beers from the kitchen.
you feel a tug on your arm. “they’re over there!”. she points to jin and jimin sitting on a sofa with drinks and talking.
your stomach knots at the sight of jimin and you start to feel flustered. he looks so good you start to second guess your outfit just as much as mina did hers. you chug your drink, hoping the alcohol will set in soon.
mina laughs at your nervousness. “are you ready?”
“i think so –”
“hey guys!” mina yells over the music, interrupting you.
your heart drops even further than it already did.
jmin and jin look over as you and mina make your way to them. mina sits next to Jin, leaving you with no choice but to sit next to jimin on the opposite end. you were hoping Mina would be with you to ease the awkwardness, but that plan is instantly thrown out the window.
jimin turns his body towards you, and you start to wish you’d planned things to talk about.
“hey, you look nice.” he smiles.
“thank you.” you respond shyly. somehow you feel even more self-conscious despite the compliment.
“i haven’t seen you in class lately.” you mention, hoping your awkwardness doesn’t show.
“oh. i’ve been kind of focused on my music lately. i’m actually considering switching majors.” he says.
he continues speaking but as you glance around your attention is caught by san across the room.
he’s looking directly at you, while a girl is holding his arm and laughing. he’s pretending to listen, but he’s watching you and jimin. you can’t seem to break the eye contact, as if your eyes are glued to him.
you realize you’re mid conversation and shift your focus back on jimin, who’s still talking about himself.
“i think that’s great.” you smile at him, unknowing of what he spent the last 30 seconds talking about.
“y/n, can I borrow you for a sec?” mina leans forward into your gaze.
you nod. “sorry, one second.” you excuse yourself from the conversation and follow mina as she pulls you aside.
“jin and i are going to my room; are you gonna be fine on your own?” she asks lowly.
“what? you’re sleeping with jin already?” you exclaim.
mina shushes you and looks around the room as if anyone could’ve heard you over the music.
“i don’t know, probably.” she says, grinning like an idiot.
“i’ll be fine. be safe.” you smile.
she nods and waves over jin, and he follows her upstairs
you make your way over to where you previously were but realize jimin is gone. you scan the room for him but can’t find him. you start to regret letting mina go and feel awkward all over again. you look around for a familiar face and see san, still talking to the same girl and clearly uninterested. you find chaewon and yunjin and join them for a while.
almost two hours pass while you’re busy getting drunk and dancing.
mina comes back with jin, but you’ve been so caught up that you forgot about them and jimin.
“hey.” you almost cringe realizing what they might have just finished doing.
mina grins and rolls her eyes. “where’s jimin?”
you shrug. “he left after you guys did”
“that’s weird,” jin says.
“i’ll go look for him.”
you scan downstairs one more time, but he’s still nowhere to be seen. you realize the party extended to the patio and open the door to check outside.
you find him, but you’re practically frozen in place when you do. he’s sitting next to a pretty blonde girl, kissing and feeling her up. you start to feel sick. you know that the two of you weren’t exclusive, but you still had hope there would be something between you. you’ve been obsessed with him for months and the one night you decided to make a move, the universe betrays you. the embarrassment starts to set in when you realize practically everyone knew about your crush as well.
you can’t watch any longer, and head back inside. you don’t feel like looking for mina. you don’t want to ruin her birthday by forcing her to comfort you. you’re too ashamed to admit what happened, anyways. you’re too drunk to walk or drive home, so you go to mina’s bedroom to wait for the rest of the night.
you open the door to her bedroom but the unmade bed reminds you of what just happened in it. and as disgusting as you feel, you’d rather not fall asleep on a bed full of sweat and god knows what else.
standing in the hallway, you start to feel the frustration set in and tears begin to well in your eyes.
you hear heavy footsteps on the stairs and immediately wipe your tears.
you don’t know whether to be grateful or upset over the fact that it’s san. as soon as you see his face, you’re reminded of the situation from earlier. and the last thing you want is to hear an “i-told-you-so”.
“what’s wrong?” he says, noticing your expression.
“nothing.” you reply, trying to contain yourself.
“why were you crying then?” he approaches you, practically trapping you in between him and the wall.
“i’m just tired.” you lie, looking down hoping to avoid eye contact.
“don’t lie to me,” san says, lifting your chin.
“did he do something to you?” he’s more intimate this time, and you realize you won’t get anywhere by hiding the truth.
“you were right.” you admit, removing his hand from your face. you start to feel the shame overwhelm you again
san sighs and looks around the hallway to make sure you were alone.
“are you happy?” you continued.
“of course i’m not happy,” san says, offended by the accusation. “you’ve had too much to drink. let’s just get you to bed, okay?”
you know he didn’t do anything wrong. none of this was his fault. to be fair, he did warn you. you weren’t mad at san, but you were overwhelmed and didn’t know what else to do. so, you took it out on him.
“you’ve been watching me like a creep all night waiting for something to go wrong. now you want to pretend you feel bad and take care of me?” you snap.
san sucks his teeth and grabs your wrist. pulling you to his bedroom, he shuts the door behind him and leans against it.
“can you calm down?” he asks in annoyance, folding his arms.
you start pacing out of frustration, trying to keep yourself from breaking down.
“he’s not worth crying over, y/n. I told you that you could do better than him.” he says, pulling you back to him. he snakes one hand around your waist and starts wiping your tears with the other.
something about his presence makes you feel safe. he makes you feel like you could cry if you needed to, but how could you when you’re around him? the realization that your body is pressed against his starts to set in.
you always knew san was good-looking, but something about the way he’s letting you be vulnerable with him makes him so much more attractive. he looked unreal, yet somehow, he was standing right in front of you.
you must have been staring for a while because his expression darkens. his thumb that was just wiping your tears starts to brush softly over your lips. you feel like you’re going to pass out from the way he’s staring at your face, studying you.
san’s lips press against yours and his arms wrap around your waist. you reach over his wide shoulders and around his neck as he pulls your body closer to his. each kiss begins deepen, with small moans escaping your throat. and as passionate as they are, his lips are still so soft and careful with yours.
san’s lips move from yours to your neck, and he’s holding you as if you’d slip away once he lets go.
you can feel warmth pooling in between your legs, making your legs go numb. he sweeps you up and moves his focus back to your lips as he carries you to his bed. laying you on your back, he hovers over you between your legs, slipping his tongue into your mouth.
you let out a moan as reassurance for him to continue, so he slides his hand under your top. he squeezes and massages your breast, causing you to let out whines involuntarily.
“does that feel good?” he groans against your neck. you can feel him smiling against you, giving you chills in the best way possible.
you manage to let out a soft whiny “yes.”.
“i’m gonna make you feel so much better.” he promises. he plants a soft kiss against your collarbone before shifting his hand between your legs.
he circles his thumb against the outside of your panties, feeling the damp spots he caused. each feeling of him hitting your clit makes your breath hitch.
“fuck.” he groans. “my baby is so good and wet for me.” he moans, teasing you with his fingers.
you prop yourself up on your elbows, your forehead against his.
“could you please?” you plead softly.
“could I what? use your words, baby.” he teases, pushing more pressure onto your clit.
“fingers, please.” you babble, your head falling back from the sensitivity.
“you want me to fuck you with my fingers?” san smirks.
“mm-hmm.” you whine.
san pulls your panties to the side and pushes his thick finger in slowly, earning a whimper from you.
he can feel his cock growing feeling the warmth of you, wishing it was inside of you instead. the sound of his fingers slipping inside of you are audible from the wetness.
san can feel himself swelling up and leaking from the anticipation, but he wants to take his time with you. he loves the sight of you moaning and whining under his control with your head held back.
he pulls your head in by the back of your neck and snakes his tongue in your mouth while curling his fingers to reach your gspot. his tongue is warm and wet, and you feel yourself getting dizzy and falling apart.
“i’m gonna cum.” you manage to breathe out.
“wait a little longer for me,” san says, pulling his fingers out of your heat and kissing you before standing up.
he pulls his shirt off revealing his bare chest and smooth, toned skin. he’s practically sweating from the anticipation, making his abs and biceps look even more glossy. he looks like a greek god.
unzipping his pants and removing the rest of his clothes, his swollen cock reveals itself, already wet and leaking from the tip.
he pushes you back down and lets you wrap your legs around his waist.
rubbing his tip against your sensitive clit, he inserts himself, making you gasp. the feeling you felt from his finger was almost nothing compared to the size of him inside of you.
he groans at the feeling of you wrapped around and squeezing him and wastes no time before speeding up his pace. your moans can’t help but get louder, and he has to cover your mouth with his just in case someone may hear you whine.
he moves fast yet softly as if he doesn’t want to hurt you. still, the feeling of him inside of you is enough to make your eyes water. you feel your sensitivity from being edged earlier come back, and you’re close to your high all over again.
“i wish i could do this with you forever” he moans.
his pace starts to get sloppy, letting you know he’s close to finishing. you feel a wave of ecstasy take over your body as san releases inside of you, leaving you dripping. the two of you moan over the feeling of finishing on each other.
san collapses next to you as you both catch your breath. he gets up and slips on clothes to leave the room. you lay in confusion for a minute until he comes back with a warm towel.
he cleans you up and gives you one of his clean t-shirts to wear to sleep. you try to hide your smile from the thought of him being so sweet to you. when you put the shirt on, he falls in love at the sight of it being so big on you. he’s not super tall, but his muscles are enough to warrant his shirts being huge. san wraps his arms around you and gives you another kiss, but this time it feels more loving than the rest.
“do you feel better now?” he asks, embracing you.
you’d forgotten about what led to this in the first place. but you didn’t care enough to remember because you were in love with someone else now.
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h0rnyauth0r · 1 year
Text
ghost never noticed just how much you squirm when he talks until now :)
i apologize for my break but i needed it and i should be back for now! (also this was a requested work!)
word count: 3.3k
tws: blindfolding, voice kink, unprotected sex, reader with a vagina, pussy eating, fingering, rough sex, cumming inside
ghost would like to say that he’s an observant person. he kind of has to be with his career, but when it comes to you he feels like it’s impossible to understand anything. you seem so shy around him and he doesn’t know if it’s because he did something wrong or if you’re just shy.
he’s interested in you, to say the least. you’ve been a member in the force for several months now, only speaking to him on occasions where it’s absolutely necessary. it’s certainly different from soap, who doesn’t shut the hell up.
something is definitely off though. it’s the way that you react to him sometimes. most of the time there’s only professionalism, a firm stature that screams confidence and seriousness, but other times…
he just notices the way your body shudders when he’s speaking to you. is it fear? some sort of arousal? he can’t be certain at this point in time, but he has added this observation onto his list of things he wants to learn about you.
tonight you’ll be doing training with soap, and he’s decided that he’d like to join even if it means he’s just standing there doing nothing. he wants to test your reactions to try to understand you better.
you, on the other hand, have no idea about that. you’ve been more focused on trying to get your punches down after dislocating your thumb during a mission a few weeks ago. you almost died because you didn’t punch right, so soap offered to help teach you how to throw them without injuring yourself too bad.
as you’re on your way to the training room, you can overhear soap talking with someone. it intrigues you, how whispered and rushed his words are. so you decide to stop walking to avoid confusing him as you listen in.
“are you sure about joining us? you know, she’s quite shy around you. she might not be able to learn a lot if the man who makes her stutter is around!” his voice sounds frustrated, and you feel your whole body become flushed once you process his words.
so, ghost wants to join in on the training session? that doesn’t make sense, and the worst part of it is that soap somehow noticed that you have a crush on the older man. you avoided him so much, but you figure that’s probably what made it more obvious.
you suck it up and push forward, walking down the hallway and approaching the room. most of the usual training dummies have been put away, mats placed on the floor with only one of the larger dummies placed to the left of the mats.
soap is standing in there by the dummy, ghost standing a few feet away from him with his arms crossed. you won’t back down and shy away today, you’ve decided. you’re truly hoping he doesn’t say a single word though.
soap notices you as soon as you shut the doors, waving you over with a grin on his face. “i decided that you can use the dummy and we can practice using myself as well, i just want to test out the dummy first so we can get your formation down.”
you nod, looking over to ghost to see him staring at you already. “hi, lieutenant.” you say to him, turning back to soap and getting prepared for the training session.
“hello.”
after a little while, you’ve gotten the basics down better than before. your issue was mainly not throwing punches properly, which led to your thumb being in the line of your shots too. soap helps you adjust accordingly, finally landing punches that only affect your knuckles rather than your thumbs.
soap announces that he has to use the restroom and excuses himself, leaving you alone with ghost. you decide to not say anything, opting to focus on punching the dummy in front of you rather than focus on him.
“you’re doing good.” his voice comes from right next to you, startling you and causing you to jump slightly as you look over at him. 
“thank you.” you say, looking down at your now seemingly bruised knuckles and rubbing them gently with your other hand. they hurt pretty bad, but you know that soap will probably ask you to keep going for a little while longer so you’re more prepared.
you notice his shadow loom over you as he gets closer, a hand reaching out and grasping onto your bruised one. “you know, this will get a lot less intense over time. the more you train, the less it’ll hurt.” his voice is right in your ear, causing your eyes to shut as you try your best to not make anything obvious.
everything about his voice just gets you going. from his accent, to how it sounds when he’s calm versus yelling. no matter what he does, his voice makes you melt and turns your panties into a sopping mess within just seconds.
his hand drops yours, causing you to open your eyes as you look at him. he’s looking at you intensely, eyes filled with emotion you can’t read. your whole face feels hot, though, and you’re almost ashamed to even look at him.
he knows what he does to you, and he’s going to be doing it on purpose now.
you opt to ignore him, waiting impatiently until soap finally comes back into the room with a fresh bottle of water and a sheepish smile on his face. he senses the tension in the room, but doesn’t mention it at all since he knows it’d be awkward.
the three of you remain in the room for some time longer, before eventually an hour has passed and it’s time to leave and focus on other things. there’s an upcoming mission you’ll be going on, so you decide to spend some time with gaz to figure out the details.
your walk in the dark is mildly terrifying. the light heading towards the building where gaz stays is limited, several areas of shadows that cause your vision to be impaired. you don't feel right, an anxiety developing that normally isn't present.
several vehicles leave gaps in between certain spots, a feeling of someone following you causing you to stop in your tracks and take a look around. 
nothing.
you sigh in relief. it must be some sort of paranoia from how tired you are after training. you did break quite a sweat, which was made worse with ghost’s gleaming eyes on you for the majority of the time you had been in the room.
you decide to continue forward-
but something stops you, from the shadows. a small reflection of someone’s eyes, a large figure looming in between two large trucks. your heart begins to pound harshly, quickly trying to make a break towards the building so you can find some sort of defense against the figure.
but you’re stopped, large hand grabbing and pulling you back into the shadows. you let out a scream, adrenaline pumping as you kick and punch as hard as you can muster. a low grunt is all you hear, an ease in the way the figure carries you away.
something is put over your eyes, a blindfold perhaps? you’re shaking now, being led to who knows where in the darkness and you can’t even be sure if anyone will ever find you. you’re certain that death looms closely now, deciding to just give up because no amount of force is stopping this human wall from taking you.
you want to cry but stay strong, keeping a cold and stoic appearance (you think at least) as you’re finally let go of in what you think is a small building nearby. wouldn’t this person have locked you in a car or something? why here? you’re confused now, not understanding what’s going on.
“you don’t need to kick so hard.”
you feel embarrassed as the voice speaks. of course it’s him. but why you’re blindfolded, you still don’t understand. ghost is probably trying to prepare you for something, maybe a training on how to escape a kidnapper.
he keeps your arms pressed tightly against your back, though. not a single ounce of movement on his end, just the heat of his body near yours in the dark.
“where are we?” you ask, trying to move your arm with no luck present in him leaving you be. 
“nowhere that matters right now.”
you feel kind of nervous. this man has saved you many times before working together. you can’t help but feel in your gut that he may somehow be plotting your murder or disappearance with the way he’s acting.
not having any sights of what’s going on has led to the smallest of noises feeling so much louder, so you’re flustered when you can hear and feel his breath right at your ears.
“an annoying bird has told me that you’re interested in me. and my observations seem to have proven him right.” he whispers lowly, hotness of his breath brushing against your skin slightly.
you’d be lying if you said you weren’t turned on now. his voice makes you unbelievably wet, and you don’t understand how you’re not dreaming right now.
the heat that has developed between your thighs is almost burning, a desire bubbling up in your abdomen that has you almost shaking. “hmm, see? you’re not too great at hiding that, love.”
you clench your jaw, sucking in a deep breath. you have goosebumps along your whole body, the cool air around you making the feelings of his warmth so much more intense.
“now, i’m going to let your arms go. but if you even move a muscle i will leave you here alone and we won’t speak again. got it?” you nod hastily at his words, feeling his arms finally release the tight grip on you that makes your shoulders and arms crack lightly.
he shuffles around the room, and you can hear as he leans down and abruptly has your pants tugged down slightly. the cool air hits your panties, making you shiver. one of his hands grasps onto your thighs tightly, squeezing and slowly working its way up.
you realize he’s down on his knees in front of you when he easily slides your panties down too, now at your ankles with your pants. you’re absolutely dripping, feeling wetness leak down your thighs to where his hands are.
that’s when he lets out a soft, amused laugh. “so wet already and i haven’t even touched you? you’re desperate.” he says, a single finger pushing between your folds and gathering up wetness.
you can hear the way his fingers move, entering his mouth with a soft squelch. the way your face heats up when you realize he’s unmasked sends you reeling for more, wanting him to do anything to you now.
“you’re in luck, as i’m desperate as well.” he whispers, making you bite down on your bottom lip tightly. the heat of his words is close to your pussy now, a light blow of his breath against your clit.
you’re trying hard not to move, staying so completely still despite the shake in your bones. “please…” you whisper, wanting him to touch you or just something.
when his tongue laps right up your folds, you inhale sharply, eyes clenched shut despite the blindfold on your body. a small and quiet moan breaks through your lips when he pushes a finger in, curling it into you as he blows air onto your clit.
“please what? you want me to make you cum?” he asks, and you nod desperately as his finger stays still.
he smacks your clit with his other hand, making you cry out and tears sting at the corners of your eyes. you feel disgusting for finding that so pleasurable. “use. your. words.” his voice is quiet, and you inhale sharply.
“yes. please make me cum.” you mumble out quickly, words rushed and almost slurred. he hums in approval at that, finger moving in and out again and sending your mind straight to the gutter.
light squelching sounds turn louder once he adds two more fingers, stretching you out as his lips latch onto your clit. you’re almost in disbelief from how good it feels, eyes rolling back and legs shaking. you almost feel like you could fall over, but one of his hands remains on your hip to reassure you that you won’t.
your orgasm builds steadily, arms remaining tucked at your sides out of fear that his words were true. you can’t just let this end now, now when he’s eating you out like his life depends on it. he’s so skilled at what he’s doing that you can barely contain your composure.
you know you’re going to cum soon after he starts getting rougher, wetness becoming more and more until it’s almost so loud you can’t hear anything else. when his mouth leaves you and he starts talking again, that’s what sends you over the edge.
“such a pretty pussy. you’re so good for me, you know that?” he says quietly, thumb swiping at your clit and making your spine tingle.
“i can feel how close you are. go on. cum for me.” the raspiness in his tone has you moaning out, orgasm crashing through you as your walls clench around his fingers. you can’t think straight, mind becoming absolutely fried as he continues finger fucking you through your high.
your hips are shaking as his fingers slide out, a small dripping noise of your arousal hitting the floor below you. you hear him stand up, arms gripping your waist as he pushes your body into his.
his nose brushes up against your own, and you force the gap closed with urgency. you can’t keep away from him anymore, not now. his lips move against yours roughly, tongue forcing itself into your mouth.
you push your hips against his, feeling the rough fabric of his jeans and, more importantly, the feeling of his hard cock against you. you can even feel how big he is, and you know it’ll make you sore later. just the thought of that has you soaked again, lips leaving his for a moment for air as your heart rate picks up.
“i’m not done yet.” he whispers in your ear, pushing his lips onto yours again.
and just when you thought he couldn’t get any hotter.
as you kiss, he leads you to the wall. it’s cold, pressing into your ass hard as he leans further into you. his hips grind into your naked bottom half, the mild overstimulation making you mewl against his lips.
you’re basically heaving, barely able to breathe when his lips leave yours. “you ready?” he asks, and you mumble out ‘yes’ as he fumbles with his belt and eventually tugs his pants and boxers down.
you can’t see his cock, but you imagine it’d be nice and pretty. you can hear him stroke it a few times before it’s pressed against your folds, sliding up and down and making you bite your lip in anticipation. the tip feels big against you, just the right amount of stimulation to make you want him to fuck your brains out.
the tip presses into you, making your hips twitch from shock as your nails dig into your palms. as he slides in, your mouth falls open and you moan shakily. “fuck, you’re tighter than i thought you’d be. such a nice cunt.” he says, hips bumping into yours as he bottoms out.
tears stream down your face from the feeling of fullness, so overwhelming but you already can’t get enough of him. the tip just barely grazes your cervix, and when he slowly begins thrusting it slaps against it over and over again. it’s painful, but you love that.
he decides to lift you up by the back of your thighs, legs wrapping around him and the new angle feeling more pleasurable as he fucks you into the wall harshly. his hands are squeezing your ass, lips finding their way to your neck as he bites down on your skin roughly. 
he moves at a steady pace, cock hitting all the right places that send you closer and closer to your peak. his movements are hard, dick ramming into you in a manner that makes you finally move your hands and grip onto his hair.
“fuck.” he mutters, hips picking up speed as he kisses you again. small noises leave his mouth, muffled by your lips but still so hot to hear coming from him. he sounds so good to you, his grunts and groans causing your pussy to clench against him. 
he fucks into you harder and harder, the stimulation of his groin smacking into your clit making you feel as if you’re melting. the way your eyes have rolled back again, clit throbbing from the stimulation, you know you’ll probably cum soon.
“touch yourself for me.” he says, a small break between your kisses. you comply instantaneously, fingers reaching down and circling your clit and smacking harder against yourself from his thrusts hitting your hands.
his lips separate from yours, leaning towards your ear and biting down on your earlobe. the stimulation of that causes your fingers to start moving faster.
the feeling of your fingers is what sends you reeling, a loud moan escaping as you finally cum for a second time. “fuck, just like that. cum like the desperate slut you are.” he mumbles in your ear, making you cry out again.
his hips don’t falter for even a second as you hear him inhale sharply, small grunts leaning his mouth as his hands slap into the wall behind you. “gonna cum in you. i think you can take it.” he mutters, words making you feel like you could explode right now.
“please.” your voice cracks.
he finally cums afterwards, ropes of it warming your insides as his hips stutter into you. he rides out his high with a few more thrusts, gentle noises finally being let out again as he slowly comes to a stop.
he pulls out after a few moments, cum leaking out of you and streaming down your thighs. you stand still for a moment, not sure of what to do now.
"you can take the blindfold off now." he says, and you decide to do so.
you still can't see great once it's off, the room very dark with minimal lighting coming from the occasional light outside shining into the windows. but you glance over to ghost anyways, noticing that he still kept his mask off in front of you. while you can't see too well, you smile anyways in adoration.
"as handsome as soap always claims." you say to him, hearing him sigh out as he shakes his head. his hand smacks your ass and he pulls his pants back up, a grin forming on your face as you gather your clothes back onto yourself as well. your thighs and cunt are sore, but you feel almost floaty despite the pain.
"of course you'd think that." he mutters, noticing the way you're off balance as you pull your pants up and over your thighs. one of his arms reaches out for you to help balance you and you thank him quietly before standing upright and looking him up and down.
"so, an annoying bird?" you ask.
"quite annoying. certainly not wrong though."
as you go your separate ways that night, you can't contain your excitement. gaz can immediately tell what took you so long when he sees your messed up hair and crooked smile, but he doesn't bother to say anything. you've talked about ghost for months, he's just glad you finally got it over with.
-
taglist: @kovieky
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chaotic-mystery · 9 months
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (one shot)
Summary: Joel forgets date night and has guys night instead, which makes you act out. Joel isn’t too happy and has to punish you in the best way he knows how.
Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI! Mean!joel, swearing, arguing, brat tamer! If you squint, drinking, teasing Joel, a slight comment about cheating but would never, rough!joel, spanking,choking,spitting, manhandling, sir!kink, unprotected p in v, orgasm denial, pet names (little girl, little one, baby doll, Joel calls you a crazy bitch oNCE, etc) power dynamic, big girthy age gap (not specified but enough to where you call him old man) slight bullying of peepaw for forgetting stuff, rough sex. Let me know if I’m missing anything!
Word Count: 3K
This is 1000% based on this gif @worhols sent me 🖤 love u Becca
Even though your Saturday morning was filled with a shift at work, you couldn’t wait to get home to see your man and take all afternoon to get ready for your date at 7. Date night was far and in between now for you two, so some fun outside the house was what you were needing. Your key entered the lock on the front door and turned, pushing the door open to music echoing from the basement. 
The kitchen counter was covered in beer boxes and bottles of liquor, chips, and Joel’s case of poker. What the fuck?
“Joel, honey?” You called out and you could hear the thumping on the basement stairs from his boots getting louder as he got closer to the main floor. 
“Hey baby doll, what’s up? How was work?” The back of his hand wipes his forehead slowly, gathering all the sweat off of him. The look on your face was so telling that something was bothering you. 
“Work was fine, uh I’m wondering why there’s shit all over the counter like you’re going to have guys night in the basement?” You crossed your arms across your chest and met his eyes, his jaw slowing the gum chewing down as he thought carefully of what to say next. 
“Beeecause we’re playing poker tonight in the basement…” It came out more as like a question and then it became apparent to you he completely forgot about your date night. 
You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, “Joel…we were supposed to have a date tonight..did you not remember?”
For such a tan man, you didn’t think he could turn so pale with shock. His hands met his hips and he sighed, looking down at his boots. 
“Darlin’ listen I- I’m sorry I forgot we had plans. Tommy asked if we could do it here and it slipped my mind about date night tonight.” Those beautiful brown eyes found yours once more and made your body shiver with sadness and anger. “How did you forget when I’ve been reminding you all week? Jesus Christ, you don’t listen to me, old man.” You turned and started to take off your jacket, not wanting to say anymore than what you already have. 
“Watch your fuckin’ tone with me little girl. I already told you I was sorry, what more do you want me to do?”
“Nothing, Joel. I don’t want you to do anything except go down there and have a fun time with your friends and play your stupid fucking game. I should ask one of them to take me out because if you can’t remember a simple date, maybe they can show me a better time.” The smartass tone was dripping off your words and it only heated the situation more.
“What the hell did you just say?” His head cocked to the side to make sure he heard you correctly. The smirk on your face only made him more irritated and he was just about to ask you to repeat yourself when he was cut off by the doorbell ringing.
“Saved by the bell, go figure.” You muttered at him and went to open the door leaving Joel standing there in a mix of emotions. You’d never in a million years date his friends but you just wanted to get a rise from him. It was only fair he was in a shitty mood after putting you in one.
You greeted them all with small ‘hellos’ and smiles, Tommy engulfing you in a hug. 
“Are you playin’ poker with us tonight sweetheart?” He asks as he releases you from his arms, walking to Joel and hits his arm lightly. Joel is still clearly caught off guard from your snappy digs and doesn’t say anything to anyone. 
“Oh, no. No poker for me. Joel forgot to mention it to me, guess that age is starting to catch up to him, huh?” You joke, putting the clean dishes away that were still in the strainer. All the guys laugh and Tommy nudges Joel right in his side with a stupid grin on his face. 
“You just gonna take that from her? Man you’re soft now.” He says to Joel and laughs again. Joel looks up at you and burns imaginary holes into your back from staring so hard. “S’alright, she’s jus’ being a brat right now. Why don’t you guys grab the shit from the counter and we’ll start soon?” Joel asks and nods to the countertop in front of you as you stand against the cabinets and squint at him. They grab the stuff and start to head down, a few of them and Tommy hanging back to wait for Joel. 
He walks to you and grabs your wrist by your hip and squeezes it, whispering in your ear, “Knock it off. Now.” 
You snatch your wrist from him and he places a rough kiss on your cheek, barely pressing his lips to your skin. He was pissed off at you for even entertaining that stupid idea of you and his friends to him. 
“Yes, sir.” He clocked your sarcasm instantly and glared at you. Your eyes met his only for a moment as he turned around on his heel and headed to the basement. With a short moment he disappears down the stairs and you’re left sulking in your emotions. This wasn’t the first time he forgot date night, this was actually the fourth. If Joel thought he could start to get comfortable and not put in so much effort for taking you out anymore, boy did he have another thing coming. 
“Fuckin’ asshole.” you mumble to yourself and clean up the mess he left of grocery bags and receipts. 
After about an hour cleaning up the main floor and having to listen to Joel's laugh carry up the stairs and into your ears, you had enough. If he wanted to play, you could play too.
Going to your shared bedroom, you start going through his closet and grab one of his old white t-shirts he had made up for work years ago. Their logo on the back left more room in the front to see everything under it. Slipping on your shortest pajama shorts and hiking them up just under your ass, you giggled at yourself in the mirror and almost changed your mind when you noticed your dress hanging in your closet that you planned to wear tonight. With the sunset slowly turning blue for the night, that burning fire in you started to reignite. 
You make your way slowly down the steps with the laundry basket tucked into your side, clearly your excuse to even go down there. The men were circled around the table, music still blaring and the string lights glittering the ceiling. “No no no, so then I told her to stop usin’ her teeth, it-” You cleared your throat and Tommy shut up quickly, turning around to face you. Joel didn’t even bother to look up until they greeted you, much different than earlier now that you were half dressed. His eyes were zeroed on on your body, his nostrils flared and the cards being held in his hands slowly started to bend. 
“Don’t mind me, just here to do some laundry before I go to bed.” That was a bold face lie. Joel knew you weren’t going to sleep. He also knew you weren’t down here to do laundry, you hated doing laundry. 
“All good, girl. You’re no bother to us.” James said, the one who had been eyeing you since you tiptoed down here. 
You opened the dryer to empty it in the laundry basket, bending over more and more with each scoop inside to get clothes out. Joel coughed loudly when he noticed what you were doing and it made you jump, not expecting him to be so obnoxious with it. “You doin’ alright baby? Need another beer?” You ask a little too sweetly and he doesn’t blink once when you meet his gaze after standing up straight, a stupid smirk forming on your lips.
“Sure, f’you wanna get me one.” He grumbled. 
You wandered over to the small fridge in the corner with a piece of clothing tucked under your arm and grabbed a beer, walking over to him and cracking it open for him. He leaned to one side to really look at you, noticing that shitty grin plastered all over your face. 
“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t do nice things for you, baby?” You rhetorically asked and folded the pair of panties you shoved under your arm just a second ago. Everyone's eyes fell onto what little fabric there was of the bejeweled thong that said ‘Angel’ on the front.
Joel was shooting daggers at you and you knew how much you were getting under his skin at this point. You took a seat on his lap and looked at his cards, not once looking at him. “All in” James says as he pushes his chips to the middle and his eyes wander up your chest. James was older than Joel and not that good looking. It wasn’t surprising he took a liking to you since he’s cheated on his wife three times now. The other guys were out and it was just between Joel and James. Ironic. 
“You’re bluffin’ you sorry bastard.” Joel chuckles and lays down his cards, straight flush. 
James groaned and tossed his cards in the middle and you looked to see a full house. You jump off Joel's lap and bounce up and down cheering for him, genuinely happy he won. What you forgot about was your boobs were also bouncing up and down. “Alright, that’s it. Guys, I’ll be back in a second. Start over without me and don’t you fuckin’ steal any chips from me.” He states and grabs the laundry basket off the ground, your arm in his other hand and drags you up the stairs. Fuck. Too far.
He marches up all the way to your room and tosses you facedown on the bed, panting from anger. “What the fuck was that, little one? Hm?” You don’t move as he rips off your shorts to expose the white panties covering your ass. 
“What? I was just having fun, Joel.” You snap back and brush your hair from your face to look at him. His jaw clenched together as he nodded once, rubbing the stubble on his chin. 
“Ya know baby, somethin’ just tells me that isn’t the complete truth.“You wanted male attention so bad you were whorin’ yourself around down there in front of anyone who’d look at you for 5 fuckin’ seconds.” His belt was beginning to come undone and you knew what was going to happen. “Joel..baby, please I’m sorry I-”
“Shut your fuckin’ mouth. Stay still. Since I’m such an old man and can’t remember jack shit, count for me baby. If you fuck up, I’ll start over.” He straddles the back of your thighs and moves your panties up out of the way, smacking your ass hard. 
“O-one.” A grunt leaves his mouth after you start counting. His big hand comes down again, smacking the same spot, already red. You gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, whimpering at the pain.
“Two-o.” Your voice shutters. 
Joel’s hand collides with your ass cheek once more. “You’ll learn one of these times not to be a smart ass to me, baby doll.”
“Fuck, Joel- three.” You can feel the welt starting to form. 
You can hear him laughing behind you as he anchors you to the bed more, the pain making your ears ring. Joel spanks you again, the roughest he’s done it yet. 
Your mouth drops in agony and tears start to fall down your face. 
“F-fou-r.” The silent sobs slowly start to leave your lips. 
His other hand comes by your face and ever so gently wipes the tears spilling from your pretty eyes and down your cheeks.
“Cryin’ won’t get you out of this baby girl. You wanted to act like a badass, take the punishment that follows. Got it?”
You couldn’t muster up anything other than, “Y-yes.” 
“Yes, what? Say it.” 
You swallowed harshly and took a deep breath before answering.
“Yes, sir.” 
The hot sensation on your ass cheek was spreading all over your body, the sting from his hand cracking your flesh again made you wince, begging for him to stop. 
“Ahh-five.” You seemed to have been losing your voice, only able to squeak out the number rattling in your brain. 
Instead of cracking you again, Joel rubs where he’s been spanking you and groans. 
“Have you learned your lesson you fuckin’ brat? Gonna be a good girl for me now?” He leans down and whispers in your ear.
You lay there still and unable to speak, a small nod was the only way you could answer. Joel reaches in front of your face and clears your vision of your hair and kisses your cheek roughly. “I dunno princess, think I might have to punish you some more.” His evil chuckle vibrated against your cheek as he kissed it again. 
Without a single word more, Joel laid over the top of you with your arms pinned against your back and you began to wiggle. 
“Take this fuckin’ cock baby. You want attention so bad, so stupid for cock, well here it is. Stay still.” He yanks down your panties and spits on his fingers before shoving his hand between your thighs as you squirm, his fingers starting at your soaking wet cunt all the way back to your asshole. 
The pre-cum leaking from the slightly swollen red tip was spread around the head before Joel rammed his cock so far inside your aching entrance. You mule out and he covers your mouth roughly, yanking you against his chest. 
“Shut the fuck up, they don’t need to know how good I fuck you. Shut that pretty mouth up before I put it to use.” He growls and starts to thrust inside you, ramming into your cervix in no time. The rough hold on your mouth makes your cries and moans so muffled but just audible enough for Joel to hear. 
“So damn wet for me princess, knew you like when I spank ya like that. Such a nasty little thing f’me. Think those assholes downstairs could fuck you like I do?” A rough kiss against your neck makes your eyes roll back and whine out, needing him to split you open from the inside. His calloused hand still covers your mouth and you shake your head in disagreement. 
“Use your big girl words baby.” Joel grunts and uncovers your mouth, grabbing your waist roughly and thrusts into you harder. 
You whimper and bite your lip and tilt your head back, looking deep into his dark brown eyes that were hungry for you. “No, sir. I don’t think they could ever fuck me the way you do. Your big fucking dick ramming into me and making me scream while you try to fit the whole thing inside me.” You could see your words were getting him somewhere, a small smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth. 
He digs his fingers into the skin on your hip more and pounds into you, his skin smacking against yours. Joel was a grunter and wow did it turn you on. His teeth clenched, he moans your name and cusses at the end of it, tossing his head back to keep himself together. 
“I would’ve taken you right on that damn poker table and made you suck my cock in front of them if you woulda kept it up baby. You wanna act like a whore in front of ‘em, I’ll treat you like one. Would you’ve wanted to suck my cock with them watchin’?” He asks, pinching your nipple under his work shirt that was stuck to your body. 
“I would’ve done whatever you wanted, sir. I promise, sir I will do anything for you.”
He growls and bites your earlobe teasingly before licking it and the shell of your ear.
“You’re a crazy little bitch for me aren’t ya?”
“I-I’m so close sir, fuck don’t stop.” You whine and he shoves your head down into the bed, groaning loudly. 
“No baby, bad girls don’t get to cum. You better not or I’ll spank you harder than before. D’you want me to spank you much harder than the last time, angel?” Your body was aching to cum, the mascara you applied hours ago now smeared and running down your cheeks. 
“No, sir.” The tears pricking your eyes as you could feel your orgasm just sitting in your stomach wanting to be released all over Joel’s cock. 
He groans louder and pushes your head down to keep still while he drives his cock balls deep in you, slowing up as he’s bracing himself for the end of his fun. 
Joel gives your ass a few more good smacks and you have to squeeze your legs shut to keep yourself from cumming. He wasn’t fair for making you hold it, he liked seeing you helpless. 
“Gonna fill this little pussy full so you don’t forget who you belong to, you got that?” His hand wraps around your throat as he engulfs you in his arms, fucking you sloppy until he’s panting like a dog in your ear. “Fuck baby doll-fuck- I’m gonna-a cum-ah-fuc-” Joel’s hot stream shoots inside you as he grunts loudly, grabbing a handful of your hair in the midst of fucking his load deep in your hole. 
Your pussy squelches and you can feel your clit just screaming to get some attention, some relief. Joel's breaths regulate once more and he lays there behind you kissing your shoulder and back softly. “Maybe next time you won’t be a brat huh?” He chuckles and gets up to go to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth for you. He cleans you up and your eyes get heavy, sleep creeping up on you. Joel kisses your forehead, whispering in your ear, “Get some rest baby. I’ll be back up soon. Maybe I’ll let you cum then.” 
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luveline · 4 months
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Please.... I beg of you... any KBD
<3<3<3 dad!steve x mom!reader, 1k
“I love you,” you say, bending down to give Steve a quick kiss. “But I’m going to spend fifteen minutes by myself in the bathroom. Cool?” 
Steve laughs. With the babies asleep and Avery not far from it in his lap, you’ve earned that and more. “Don’t get lost.” 
“Yes,” you say, slouched and tired as you limp away. “I won’t.” 
Avery rests her head on Steve’s arm. “Is she okay?” 
“Just tired. Someone’s always tired in this house, right?” 
“Not me.” She yawns.
Steve laughs and wraps his arm around her shoulders carefully. “Not you, you’re my trooper.”
“I’m the state trooper. That’s what Chief Hopper says.” 
She’s talked about Chief Hopper nonstop for the last week since he visited her class as school. He apparently wasn’t half as much of a hard ass as he was when Steve was in school. He brought candy. 
“You are?” he asks.
“Yeah!” she says, unaware of the stunt Steve is about to pull. She snuggles into his arms as he begins rubbing her back. 
Steve looks at her and all he sees is himself. It’s so fucking weird —he’d love to show teenage Steve, hell, even Steve at twenty, how his daughter will come out a carbon copy. He might as well be looking in a mirror, though her head is a little less square, her lips ever so slightly fuller. She’s all brown eyes and a silly giddy smile as she tells him her story again, her soft lashes drooping, and drooping as he hums uh-huhs, the side of his pinky running down her spine. 
She falls asleep in his lap. He knows how nice it feels to be held closely by someone you love as you sleep, so for a while he just holds her. They aren’t kidding about kids. You don’t have a clue in the world how much you can love another person, how badly you want to look after them, until you have your own. 
And Steve wouldn’t have his without you, so he owes you everything. He always has, regardless. 
Which reminds him. 
Steve carries Avery upstairs to her room, still small enough for a princess carry. He’s careful not to hit her head on the door jam (a marker of past experience), toeing open her door and yanking back the sheets on her bed. 
“There,” he whispers with a smug smile, laying her down, and tucking her in snug. “Love you, Ave.” He kisses her forehead and the line of her nose, rubbing her little chubby cheek in goodnight. 
He stands on the landing listening for you. You’re sniffing in the bathroom, forcing a rough bumping of his chest —he thought you were kidding about being upset. 
He knocks the door with one knuckle. “Honey? Can I come in?” 
“Depends on how eager you are to see me naked.” 
He rattles the door handle aggressively. You laugh from the other side. “No, but can I?” he asks.
“Stop being weird and come in.”
He opens the door. You’re in pyjama pants and a bra, your shirt on the radiator and water shining on your neck and collar. A vigorous face washing has occurred, hence your sniffing. “I thought you were crying,” he says, relieved. 
You hold your hands out to him and let him grab you by the waist, holding you up, your tacky face immediately dropping down into one of your shoulders. “Just got water in my nose.” 
He pulls you stomach to stomach, hand behind your shoulder and working up to your neck. You breathe out funny at his touch, maybe like you’ve missed it, your eyelids fluttering closed. 
“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he implores. 
You shake your head. “I’m not tired. I think I missed you today.” 
You spent the entire day together, but with the girls acting as hectic as they’d been he understands what you mean. It’s not like you got much time together. It was a good day, he just wishes there were more moments of you like this, in arms reach, under his hands, and totally at ease. 
“Who wouldn’t miss me?” he asks. 
You nod, as if to say, yeah, I forgot you’re a dick. Your eyes don’t open and yet he can see them rolling. 
“I missed you too,” he amends honestly, encouraging your face to his to kiss you while you’re unsuspecting. 
You sigh softly and kiss back, before working your way into the curve of his neck, where you also kiss. Your lips are soft as velvet. 
He covers as much of your naked back as he can with his arms. “Today feels a hundred days long. I’m so excited to go to bed, I’m like, thinking about it. Is that pathetic?”
“Très pathétique.”
He rubs the curve of your side quickly in agreement. “Super pathetic.” 
“Where’s my Avery?” 
“Sleeping in bed. Just you and me, honey.” 
“I’m too tired to brush my teeth.” 
Steve chuckles at your aggrieved moaning and stands you up properly. I can fix that, he thinks. 
First, he helps you into your shirt. You’re a grown woman who doesn’t necessarily need help getting dressed, but you’ve been his to look after for so long that you don’t question him when he holds the neck and arms out for you and pulls it over your head, down onto your torso. You’re smiling as he skirts around you for your toothbrush. You hold your hand out. He doesn’t give it, squirting toothpaste onto the bristles. 
“Show me those pearly whites,” he jokes, murmuring now so as not to disturb the quiet that’s descended in the house. 
He can see you thinking it through. “You wanna brush my teeth for me?” 
He takes your cheek into your hand. “Too weird?” 
“No,” you say, smiling at him with a generous, ridiculous amount of devotion, “not weird. I’ll probably laugh though, but if you don’t mind then sure, you can brush my teeth. I’d love that. I’ll just close my eyes and let you do the hard work.”
Steve ducks in for a careful, doting kiss, the smell of spearmint between you. 
“I’ll even floss for you,” he promises against your lips. 
“No, I don’t think so.” 
745 notes · View notes
lecl3rcw · 9 months
Text
JUST LIKE YOU | LECLERC FAMILY
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pairings: Charles Leclerc x sister!reader, Arthur Leclerc x sister!reader, Lorenzo Leclerc x sister!reader
warnings: mean words exchanged, threats.
author’s note: part 2 to this, hope everyone enjoys💗
____________________________________________
It had been a few weeks since her and Arthur’s huge fight, despite apologizing the tensions were still high between the two youngest Leclercs, a tension that left everyone wondering what the hell had happened.
“Hey is it just me? Or have Y/N and Arthur been distant from each other?” Lorenzo questioned Charles.
“I’ve noticed that too, almost like they’re avoiding each other” Charles replies thinking of the last time he saw two Interact.
“Y/N has been really focused on her studies, and Arthur’s spending time with Carla, I don’t think there’s anything fishy going on boys” Pascale says washing the last of the dishes.
“I mean yeah I get Y/N but Arthur? He could bring Carla here? It’s not like I don’t bring Alexandra or Lorenzo dosent bring Charlotte? Plus Arthur always used to bring Carla here, so they are definitely avoiding something” Charles says squinting his eyes.
“Maman i agree with Charles, the last time I saw Y/N interact with Arthur was when we were leaving for grocery shopping, and then they stopped” Lorenzo recalls, “Is Arthur home right now?” Charles asks, Pascale nods. The two brothers looked at each other and nodded.
“Arthur, you gotta pick Y/N up from school, we gotta umm go somewhere” Charles says, “I cant, I have to drop Carla off at the airport” Arthur says, lying straight through his teeth. Lorenzo and Charles look at each other. “Ok. Enough is Enough, What the hell happened between you two?” Lorenzo asks raising his eyebrows.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, me and Y/N are fine” he says nonchalantly, “Carla’s flight dosent leave till tomorrow, she told Maman that herself, so that means you just don’t want to pick Y/N up from school and we wanna know why” Charles says.
“Fine, you wanna know why? Because she makes me feel like a failure, she’s always comparing me to you Charles, and I’m tired of it. That day she crossed the line ok? And we talked it out but I’m still mad about it so that’s why I’m not talking to her” Arthur huffs before grabbing his car keys and leaving.
“That seems really out of character for Y/N, there has to be more to the story” Charles mutters as Lorenzo sighs, “alright I’m going to talk to Y/N then” he says grabbing his keys as well.
Enzo pulls up to Y/N’s school as he spots her talking to a friend of hers, a bright smile adorning her face. As soon as the girl spots her brother, she bids them goodbye.
“Hey Chérie, how was your day?” He asks her, “it was great! How was yours Enzo?” She says, “it was great, but umm listen did you and Arthur get Into a fight when we all were gone” he asks, the girl sighs out.
“We did yes, he didn’t want to take me to Starbucks so I told him Charles would and he took it to heart I guess” she rambled on making sure to not include the part where he called her a failure. “Chérie, you know Arthur dosent like it when you do that, so please apologize and make up” he sighs out, “look Enzo, I apologized I don’t know what else you want me to do?” The Girl says putting her hands on her face.
“Don’t worry about it, we’ll figure something out” he says ruffling her hair. The drive home was silent, guilt was over taking her senses as she anxiously fiddled with her fingers. Her intentions weren’t bad but she was starting to realize the impact of her words. She was so hurt when he called her a failure yet she did the same thing.
Tears started streaming down her face, Enzo stops the car immediately, his face turning to hers in concern, “what’s wrong Chérie? Why are you crying” he says, his arm rubbing her shoulder.
“I fucked up Enzo” she says, a sob escaping her mouth. Her hands now covering her face, “I’m sorry” she says as he pulls her into her arms, “Shh don’t cry, what’s going on?” He asks her In the most gentle tone ever, “I compared him to Charles, and then he called me a failure, I was so hurt that I never realized the hurt I probably inflicted on him, I’m such a bad sister Enzo, his whole life people have told him that and I just make a joke out of it.” she mutters out, “Y/N you made a mistake that’s it, what matters is that you realized that what you said was wrong as well” he says, his hand on her head.
“You’re Right, I’ve got to make this right” she sniffles, “do you think we could stop by the store? I have an idea” she says and her brother nods.
When the two get home, Arthur and Charles can be seen having a normal conversation but as soon as the younger brother spots his sister, he gets up to leave only to be stopped by her.
“Tur wait” she says, he sighs out as he sits back down, Charles and Enzo take this as their cue to leave (eavesdrop)
“What Y/N?” He says looking straight at her, She hands him a bag, the bag was filled with all of Arthur’s favorite snacks and drinks. She takes a seat next to him.
“I’m sorry Arthur, what I said was mean and I should’ve realized that, instead of making a joke about it” she says, “No I’m sorry, I’m older than you and I called you a failure, you’re not by the way, you’re smarter than a Charles and I combined” he says pulling the younger girl into his embrace, her eyes start to tear up and she clutches onto him.
“I love you Tur Tur, you’re my favorite person in the world, my best friend and the best big brother I could ask for, you’re not second to Charles, you’re just as good as him, and if anyone ever says otherwise, screw them” she says as she cries into his shoulder, Arthur gives her a soft smile rubbing her back up and down, a smile that she was oblivious too.
“Yeah yeah I love you too, now can you please get off me? You’re kind of choking me” He mutters, “oh sorry” she says pulling away, wiping her nose and eyes. They look at each other and let out a laugh.
“So he’s your favorite now?🤨” a voice Interrupts their laughter.
900 notes · View notes
cryptidghostgirl · 4 months
Text
Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)
Pairing: Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Wife!Reader
Description: Y/n has been using the exterminations as a way to try and search for the soul of her earthly husband for years. What happens when she actually succeeds in finding him?
Warnings: Cannon typical violence and angst. Also uh,, not healthy. (The end is kinda fucked up)
Word Count: 2,411
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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Y/n slid the dark mask over her face, jiggling it slightly to make sure it had clicked properly into place. She had never wanted to be an exorcist, hated the very thought. When she had been alive, she was the type of human who felt bad about accidentally stepping on bugs. If she had had any other choice, she would’ve taken it but she didn’t and so Y/n tried her best to detach herself from the experience.
Exorcists were a handpicked group by Adam. If you weren’t one, you didn’t know about them and if you knew about them, you were fucked. Y/n’s entire existence in the peaceful afterlife had been turned on its head when she’d been chosen. Pulled out of normal day to day and pushed into harsh, year round training. There was nothing nice about it and nothing she could do. No one listened to a thing she said, not even Sera. Sometimes, Y/n caught herself wishing she’d just been sent to Hell instead.
There was, however, one small benefit to these yearly trips. While it was a pain to act like she was being more violent than she was on the field, a constant terror in her life that Adam and Lute would find out she’d been letting demons go, it also gave her the opportunity to search.
Y/n had been married in life. Her husband had been a criminal, one of the worst, something she hadn’t learned until after his death. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from loving him. Every day on earth she’d lived without him by her side had been abysmal. No other love was quite like his love.
When she had first arrived in Heaven, Y/n had searched everywhere for him. There had been no luck. It had been a foolish hope, she knew: looking for a serial killer among the blessed but, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to hear him explain, wanted to understand. Most of all, though she tried not to think about this part, she wanted to give him a kiss. To throw her arms around his neck with abandon the way she did when they were young. She wanted to hear his voice, have him tell her he still loved her too and mean it. She wanted to know she hadn’t wasted her life, her one chance at a living love.
The gates opened and Y/n dove through with the hundreds of other exorcists. Their game was underfoot, their cat and mouse sadistic chase. For Y/n? The search was on.
----
Alastor watched as the exorcist descended upon him. He was feeling brave and stupid, empowered after his near win against Vox just a few weeks before. Cracking his knuckles, he wondered what the exorcist’s voice would sound like if added to his broadcast.
A wicked grin on his face, she hovered before him. Her wings flapped with great strength, sending gusts of wind Alastor’s way as she kept herself vertically in the air. Alastor simply looked down, pointedly away from the exorcist, and straightened his lapel with his hand that wasn’t holding his microphone. He was trying to make her angry. As she inched closer to him, Alastor assumed it had worked.
“Don’t see many of your lot around these parts this time of year.” he mused, checking his nail beds, “What can I help you with?”
There was a silence. Alastor looked up towards the angel, confused. Normally a blasé statement like that would have gotten a rise out of anyone intent on killing him. Instead, the lights of her eyes on the mask just stared at him. Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground.
“Say that again.”
Her voice came out muffled and harsh through the mask, clearly altered by some equipment within. He laughed, taking a menacing step forward. Leaning down condescendingly, he conceded to her demand.
“How may I be of use?”
The exorcist was silent again. After a moment, Alastor shrugged. He straightened himself up again, his hands on top of his microphone as if it were a cane. He summoned his shadows.
“Well you’re certainly making this easy.”
His horns began to grow, throwing strange and menacing shadows across the walls of the ally way. Still, the angel stood there.
“It… it can’t be.” she mumbled under her breath.
Alastor raised his eyebrows.
“Can’t be who, darling?” he asked, feigning innocence, “The Radio Demon can’t be such a big name you folks up in Heaven hear my shows, can it?”
Alastor let out a laugh, taking a step forward as the exorcist tentatively took a step back.
“Oh who am I kidding, of course it is!” he exclaimed.
The exorcist took another step back as Alastor threw his microphone into the air, catching the center of its stand neatly in his outstretched hand. Her back hit the shadows he had put up to block the ally way and she frantically turned her head to the side, checking what it was she’d run into.
Alastor tsked her, walking up so they were just a few feet apart. Harshly, he used his microphone to turn his face to hers again.
“Don’t look away from me, dear. I might get jealous.”
“Were you married?” the exorcist asked suddenly.
Alastor froze in his tracks, his brow furrowed the slightest bit.
“Sorry if that’s weird.” she stuttered out, rubbing her arm holding the spear uncomfortably, “I just, well, I’ve been looking for my husband? He died in the early 1930s and well, he sounded a lot like you.”
Alastor’s heart dropped, crashing into his diaphragm. The angel watched him nervously as he removed his microphone from the side of her head. She let out a breath she’d been holding, something that was quickly taken in again as he used the end of his microphone to life her mask from her face.
It clattered harshly against the concrete as it fell from her face. Alastor’s eyes went wide. There was no doubt about it. Sure, she had a soft ethereal glow about her now, but hadn’t she always in a way? Sure, her hair was cropped around her ears and she was in armor. It didn’t matter, in an instant he knew. The shadows fell from around them, his horns shrunk back to their normal size.
“Y/n?”
“Alastor?” she asked back, just as breathless.
Slowly, she reached a hand out to his face and cupped his cheek. He leaned into it on instinct. Y/n’s spear clattered to the floor, her other hand finding his other cheek as she looked up at him in simple amazement.
“You…” gingerly, Alastor reached his free hand up, laying it on top of one of Y/n’s, “Of course you’ve been in Heaven this whole time. You were always so good, much too good for me.”
“Oh hush, Alastor.” Y/n scolded lightly, her eyes filling with tears, “You know I don’t like it when you put yourself down like that.”
“No, Y/n.” he let his microphone disappear, taking both her hands off his face and holding them intently in his own, “You don’t understand. I did terrible things when I was alive, I still do them now. There is a reason I am down here.”
“I know.” she responded almost immediately.
“No, y-”
“I don’t mean to interrupt but Al, I do know.” Y/n cut him off, “You were killed hurrying a body hun, hard not to. Plus, when the police searched the house they told me what they’d, um, found in the basement freezer.”
Y/n chose her words carefully, her eyes averted. When she looked back at Alastor, he was still smiling yes but, there was something confused about him too. They had grown up together. She had always known exactly what was going on in that head of his. Well, most of the time anyways.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
“You have?” Alastor asked, “After everything, after… God, how long did I leave you up there alone?”
“About thirty years.” Y/n shrugged.
There was a moment of silence. A question tugged at Alastor’s tongue, one he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer to. Still, time was running out. The screams of demons being attacked were becoming more and more infrequent. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance.
“Did your new husband make it up to heaven with you?”
Y/n’s eyes went wide.
“New husba- Alastor, I never remarried.”
“Why not? You deserved to be treated well, Y/n. To have had a good life. Why waste it all on me?”
“I loved you. I still do.”
Y/n knew it was a bad idea, knew the risks if any other exorcist in the area heard her. Still, she couldn’t help but feel it would be worth it to die, knowing she’d found Alastor and that he knew she still loved him.
“You find anyone down here yourself?” Y/n asked awkwardly after a moment, looking around the ally.
Alastor took a step forward, closing what little space had been left between them. Like he had done it a thousand times before, because he had done it a thousand times before, he raised a hand to Y/n’s cheek and turned her face to his. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, she stared up at him.
“No one.” Alastor shook his head, “There’s no one but you.”
A horn sounded from a ways away and Y/n turned up to the sky. Waves of exorcists were flying over head, going back to the portal, back to heaven. Y/n took a step back, Alastor’s hand falling from her cheek.
“Al, I have to go.”
“Please, Y/n. Stay with me here. I can’t get to you up there, I don’t want to lose you again.”
“I have to go, Al. I don’t want to cause any more trouble for you and everyone else down here.” she insisted, turning to where her mask lay on the ground, “I’ll be back in twelve months, I promise.”
As Y/n leaned over to grab her called disguise, her wings splayed out behind her. Light hit the tip of her spear just right in that moment, catching Alastor’s eye. A wicked idea filtered into his mind. Something he never could have done, would have ever even imagined when he’d been alive. But now? Hell had hardened him, taught Alastor sometimes you had to be cruel to get what you want and not just when it came to killing creeps. He had tried life without Y/n before, tried nearly sixty years of it. Alastor didn’t like it one bit.
“We will get to see one another then,” Y/n was saying as her trembling fingers fumbled for the edge of her mask in the dim light, “and I promise I’ll find a way we can end up together for good, I really d-”
A searing pain shot through her, causing her words to catch in her throat. It was worse than anything Y/n had ever felt before, emanating from the center of her back. Panting in pain, she reached a hand behind her back. It came away wet with sticky, golden blood. Her vision blurring, Y/n looked up at Alastor. Clutched in his right fist was the head of her spear. From the other hand, he dropped her left wing to the floor.
“Alastor…” she panted, her breath weak, “what…”
He took a step forward and an arrow of fright shot through Y/n. She tried to take one back but the pain was starting to really get to her now and she stumbled, falling to the ground. Alastor stood over her, smiling menacingly down as she scooted back from him. Y/n was full on hyperventilating now.”
“Al, what are you doing? What… how… I don’t understand.”
Alastor hushed her gently, the way he used to when they were little kids and he found her crying. Tears began to drip from Y/n’s eyes and she jolted violently with fear as his clawed hand grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to twist around and giving him access to her other wing. He grabbed it, pulling it out to its fullest extent.
“Alastor please.” Y/n begged, tears rolling hotly down her face, “Please don’t. Please.”
“My, these sure are pretty.” Alastor hummed, admiring the weft of the feathers as he held Y/n’s remaining wing.
“Why would you do this!?” Y/n screamed, her voice echoing in the empty ally.
Alastor fell to his knees behind her, still holding her wing out, still immobilizing her in pain.
“I’ve already lost you once.” he said softly, leaning into Y/n’s ear. She whimpered, trying to scoot away from him but unable to due to the hold he had on her appendage, “I won’t do it again. If Satan, or God, or the fucking universe think they can keep us apart, then not a single goddamn one of them has been paying attention because you are mine. You are mine and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep things that way.”
As the final words left Alastor’s lips, he cut through Y/n’s remaining wing in a single motion. She let out an earsplitting scream before passing out in a steadily growing puddle of her own golden blood.
“There, there my love.” Alastor hummed gently, dropping the spear to the ground and smoothing her her wild hair down around her face as he pulled himself to his feet.
Straightening his jacket, Alastor leaned down and picked her limp body up off the sidewalk. The injuries were bad, but nothing he couldn’t help her handle.
“I just can’t explain to you how happy I am to have you back in my arms.” he said to Y/n’s sleeping form, looking down at her tired and tearstained face with nothing short of adoration, “You might be mad for a while, but I can handle that. At the end of the day, we will both know that you’re not going anywhere.”
Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss on Y/n’s forehead. For a moment, his smile went hollow. He hadn’t meant to go this far, to hurt her this bad. Alastor had just been so scared, so utterly terrified at the prospect of losing her again.
“She will understand.” he reassured himself, “She has to understand.”
——
Part Two → Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)
956 notes · View notes
macsimagines · 6 months
Note
Izana, Kisaki + Mikey finding their girlfriend sleeping in one of their shirts, like willingly? 🧡
TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR, NEGLECT, MENTION OF KIDNAPPING
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Yandere!Izana Kurokawa
It started off with him kind of... not letting you leave his place. You came over for a late night booty call, and instead of demanding you get out of his face he wouldn't let you go that night.
Come the next morning and you wake up before him and you decide to dip before he can wake up and tell you to fuck off. Izana has never been overtly affectionate with you and you don't want to push him too far afterall.
But then you get a call later that day and he sounds...off.
"Hello-," "Just where the fuck are you, Y/N?" "O-oh? I woke up and left?" You tell him and you're so caught off guard by the slight annoyance in his voice what could you have done wrong?
"Why?"
And that throws you completely off. "Wasn't I supposed to?"
He doesn't answer. Just hangs up and you're left wondering what the hell happened, but you just shrug it off as maybe him not liking that one of his possessions left without permission...
The next time you two hookup, its the same thing. He's not trying to let you leave, and so you sleep over naked and just plan on wearing the same clothes you came in tomorrow. Except...
"I want you here when I get back, Y/N." He tells you before he leaves the next morning. And for whatever reason that look in his eyes means not to test him so you just sit around and wait for him all day.
But your clothes are kind of uncomfortable and its getting so laaaate. Izana wouldn't mind you borrowing one of his shirts right?
He really doesn't come back until 1am, and he's very happy you listened like a good girl, and even happier to see you dressed in one of his shirts while you sleep.
Izana thinks that he probably won't have to get your clothes from your old place. You could just use his. Ya. That'll be fine. Its his gift to you, for finally moving in with him where you belong.
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Yandere!Kisaki Tetta
You're a true fucking brat. No really, you've somehow become the single biggest pain in the ass he's ever had to deal with. You throw out everything he buys you, you scream and demand your freedom at every turn, you're constantly trying to escape him...
But he loves you, really and truly adores you, and you're not going anywhere now that he's got you locked in his penthouse. He won't make the same mistake, he's going to keep this one alive. You'll just have to learn to love him.
Oh but your latest tantrum has him rethinking it all. You set fire to the apartment, burning all the clothes he bought you in the bathtub and almost getting the cops called.
But he was smart, smoothed over the situation and had you sedated before you could throw an even bigger fit. Honestly, some small part of him doesn't think you're worth the trouble but he comes home the next day and those thoughts are all dashed.
You're laying in one of his silk shirts, bundled into the sheets so sweetly he thinks he can feel his heart actually ache at the sight of you.
You're so precious, and perfect to him. "That was expensive," he'll try to say dismissively, he doesn't want you to think he's forgiven you for your little fit just yet, "I burned all the other ugly stuff you got me. At least your clothes are comfortable." "..."
He won't say anything after that, but he does make a mental note that perhaps the Gucci and the Balenciaga are probably not to your tastes. He should just get you things in the same style as him. Couples matching outfits could be nice.
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Yandere!Manjiro Sano
Douchebag does not let you wear clothes he does not approve of. You belong to him and every aspect of your life belongs to him too, even what you wear.
And sometimes it's fine. Sometimes he's not around and you don't have to wear the skimpy dresses and designer shoes that hurt, sometimes you get to be comfortable and just chill out in your pajamas.
But you got too comfortable. He'd been gone for weeks again, because Micky comes and goes as he pleases, so you thought your usual fits would be fine.
Then he returns and for some reason he's pissed. It could be because the cops are on his ass, something didn't go his way or maybe his underlings were pissing him off, but for whatever reason for his rage he's decided he's going to take it out on you.
"What, Y/N? All the money I spend on nice clothes not good enough? You don't like the pretty thing I buy you?" "M-Mikey please-," "Too fuckin' good for the shit I give you?"
You're stripped bare and naked. For days. If you won't wear what he so graciously and lovingly gives you then you don't get to wear anything. And you're just shivering cold for a week straight trying to curl in yourself for any kind of warmth and comfort.
But after seven days of this hell you can't take it anymore. He doesn't even let you have sheets or blankets in your room anymore how the hell are you supposed to survive.
Thankfully, you find one of his discarded sweaters near the bed you two share and through it on without a second thought. You're nauseated because it still smells like him, but you can't bring yourself to take it off and be cold again.
You just snuggle into the fabric and finally find enough warmth and comfort to sleep that night. When Mikey comes home and sees you he realizes he's no longer angry. In fact, he's more than pleased.
"You just wanted to wear my clothes this whole time? That's fine. We'll share a wardrobe."
636 notes · View notes
cranberrv · 1 month
Text
enchanted
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ in which dallas winston falls for the new girl
( a/n : i love this request sm!! reader is fem by the way, also not proofread also ooc! still cute tho! )
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not many people wanted to move to tulsa, but for some people, it was their only option. that was the first similarity spotted between you and dallas.
of course, you and dallas were on different sides of the track, different chapters in a novel. you moved to tulsa for your fathers work, you were perfectly happy back at your old city, but you didn’t have a choice. dallas moved to tulsa to escape from the new york police.
you thought tulsa was bland. it was only your first week here, your first week emerced with all the other teenagers at school, but everyone here was grey. especially the east-side kids, the greasers. they were all broke and it looked like all the life was sucked out of them.
you, on the other hand, were fresh from los angeles, with a feminine flare to yourself and a genuine kindness that was rare in tulsa. even the rich kids were rude, but you were anything but.
it was the start of your second week of school, and your least favourite class was science. not because of the subject, it was just that the people in your class gave you dirty looks and the teacher had a voice that could put you to sleep. and your lab partner in the seat next to you had been away the entire time, leaving you to do projects alone.
today was supposed to be the exact same as usual. at the start of class, you walk in and sit down alone. the teacher does the attendance, and marks your mystery lab partner absent. today is independent work, finishing up a lab report and then doing a worksheet on protons and electrons. you want to fall asleep, it’s so boring. you’re listening to every silent conversation and looking out the window for a source of entertainment. you got your wish soon enough, as the door creaks open.
“hello,” your teacher greets to the boy that enters the room. “you are?”
“dallas winston,” he answers, throwing his burnt-out cigarette in the trash.
your teacher nods her head. “ah, you’re dallas winston,” the voice is slow as she pieces it together. you wonder why the words are said in such distaste.
you’ve given up on your work, watching dallas winston. he looks like an east-side kid, his hair is a bit messy and he radiates confidence. he certainly puts out an energy unlike anyone in this school.
they talk for a bit longer, the teacher obviously telling him it’s not okay to skip class. dallas tries to argue back for a little bit, but eventually gives up and holds his hands up in mock-surrender. the teacher takes a breath then points to you, giving him a worksheet and telling him to go sit next to you. he follows the teachers finger, and he tilts his head when he looks at you, trying to figure out if he knows you or not. his eyes light up a bit when you make eye contact with him. you like the way he looks at you.
dallas walks over, and sits next to you. there’s a few moments of silence as he gets himself settled. spitting out his gum, taking off his leather jacket, and finally landing his eyes on his sheet. he reads over the questions, and realizes has no idea how to do any of this. “you got a pencil?” he asks you.
“yeah, in my pencil case, help yourself,” you answer, and he grabs your pencil case and sifts through it to find one.
he takes one out and hands it back. you say thank you, and he thinks it was unnecessary to be polite about a simple thing but doesn’t say anything. “mechanical, huh?” he says about the pencil, pushing on the bottom to get the lead out. “expensive. what, you a soc or somethin’?”
you look from your worksheet up at him. he has a nice jawline, you notice. “a what?” you ask. an innocent question in your eyes, but one that has a lot more meaning for dallas.
who the hell doesn’t know what a soc is? he stares at you for a second, eyebrows furrowing. not out of annoyance, but out of genuine confusion about why you don’t know about the class-status that built up the entire reputation of tulsa. you know what a greaser is, but not a soc. and you barely know what a greaser is, anyway. you’ve just been told to stay away.
��you know, a rich-kid. a west-side kid.” you still look confused, and he comes to the conclusion that you’re not from here. so when he notices the confused look in your eye, he changes the subject. “where ya from, sugar?”
“i just moved from los angeles,” you tell him. his eyes drift down to your cute lace pink top. he thinks it’s totally something that someone from LA would wear. there’s a speck of silence as he analyzes you, and you feel the need to break it.
“i shoulda guessed,” he says with a raise of his eyebrows. you don’t know if he’s being mean or not. you hope he’s not mean.
“what do you mean?”
“i mean you look like you’re from hollywood or somethin’, with all the lace and the flashy bows and shit..” he’s poking at the lace lining your top. you can see him thinking about something while he’s looking at your lace. “christ, your lingerie collection must be insane, huh?”
there’s a blink of silence and a look of slight disbelief on your face. “what?”
“i’m messin’ with ya, sweetheart,” he chuckles.
“oh,” you say softly, cheeks going a bit hot.
“so,” he starts, switching the topic to a different note. “why’d ya move to fuckin’ tulsa?”
“my dad got a job here,” you explain, fiddling with your pencil in your hands. “why?”
“just curious,” he shrugs. “you know, most people don’t move to this hellhole.”
“you did,” you say, and he tilts his head. you think he’s looking at you because you’re just assuming things, and you’re probably wrong, so he’s judging you. “did you not?”
he cracks a smile. he wasn’t judging you, simply curious as to how you guessed he wasn’t from here. “yeah, i did, sugar,” he nods, leaning back in his seat. “how’d ya know?”
“your accent,” you explain. “very new yorker.”
“yeah? you like it?”
you mirror his smile. “yeah, i do.”
the class falls silent as the teacher insists everyone quiets down and focuses. dally's voice drops to a whisper when he responds, playfully pushing you away. “alright, miss hollywood, go do your work,” he teases. “gonna tell the teacher you’re distracting me,” he threatens, obviously playing around because he knows that he’s the one distracting you.
you smile and turn your head back to your sheet to finish it up. you begin peacefully working. dallas can’t help but stare at you as you do so. nibbling at your pencil while you’re thinking, constantly adjusting your top, brushing your hair out of your face every now and then, he notices it all. he can’t help it, he thinks you’re the sweetest person he’s ever seen.
you look up at him, feeling his intense gaze on you. you make eye contact and instantly turn away again, cheeks going pink like a tulip. why is he looking at you? do you have something on your face? you don’t know. you subconsiously wipe your cheek to make sure, and adjust your top again.
dallas finally looks away, and you take a breath and relax your shoulders. as much as he was acting sweet towards you, you could tell he had this rough edge that you should be worried about. but what truly worried you is the fact that his edge didn’t worry you. if anything, it lured you in. you wanted to learn everything about him. he was like the ocean, he was calm and beautiful but you had to swim out far and dive deep down to find out everything about him. and it felt like no one had, yet. he was a mystery. you liked that.
as you’re working, you hear the rip of lined paper beside you, then the scratch of a pencil. a few moments later, dallas hands you a piece of paper with a note on it.
“how do you do question 1?“ it reads.
you read the note and look up at him, smiling. you write down your answer, saying that he needs a calculator. you hand him yours, assuming correctly that he doesn’t own one.
he slides you another note a few seconds later. “it keeps saying weird shit on the calculator”
“what does it say?” you write back.
he takes longer than usual to write. you wait in anticipation. after what feels like forever (but was probably 15 seconds) he hands you another note. you read the numbers. you don’t understand how he got that answer. you read over it again, and then it clicks. it’s his phone number.
he’s looking at you as you read it. you look up at him and gently nod, putting his number in your pocket. you rip another piece of paper and write down, “i’ll call you.”
he reads it and writes back, and is about to hand it to you, until he quickly takes it back and adds something. then he hands it to you.
“good. (p.s. your little lace top is kinda cute)”
you read his little p.s. and smile to yourself, then to him. you mouth thank you to him. he mouths “anytime” back.
you have a feeling this won’t be the last time you and dallas winston say hello to each other in science class.
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