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#the time hasn't passed for him since he entered
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Tainted Past
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Reader Description: he/they, masculine titles, early 20s.
Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Masculine!Reader
A/n: So this was inspired while I was playing around in Character.ai (I was being delulu as usual), so I guess shoutout to the creator of Mature!Wanda ai for kickstarting my brain again. I haven't write in a while guys pls be nice :')
Warnings: No warnings for now actually, maybe sadge Wanda, Wanda lowkey being bullied.
Summary: Years have passed since Westview and Wanda finally has the chance to settle down and live the normal she had always yearned for. However, that comes with a challenge as many were still wary of her. Along the way she met a young man in his early 20s, whom took pity on the witch despite all odds.
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It was a huge deal when rumors spread about the infamous Scarlet Witch moving into their town. The same witch that brought upon destructions and chaos, the one who enslaved a whole town. The one that the Dracula from Hotel Transylvania would describe as,
"-Nutsy Cuckoo!" Y/n snorted at their friend's description of the witch, "She's a total nutjob, I'm telling you. She went berserk for kids she DIDN'T even have."
"And afterwards went after a child, no, a literal CHILD!" Their other friend added, "Who happens to be America Chavez, who ended up teaming up with her as well. Hence why she's able to even live freely back into society."
"That's crazy..." Y/n said while shaking his head. The were all sitting their usual cafe, gossiping about their latest neighbor.
"I heard she lives across the street from you. Hey, at least she's a hot MILF right?" Their friend Magdalena joked, which made her receive a cookie thrown at her face.
"Shut up, Lena." She only snorted. As both of his friends were snickering, the two of them stopped and their eyes trailed something behind him.
"What?"
"Speak of the devil..." Victor said as he had a little bit of a disgusted look.
Y/n turned around, and there she was. The Scarlet Witch. She hasn't been seen on any media for the past few years, the last time she was seen, she had a long auburn hair, and was wearing her suit. The look she had right now was a striking contrast to her last appearance on the media.
She had cut her hair, it was now dyed blonde, and she was wearing a casual civilian clothes. Y/n felt shivers running down their spine as painful memories flooded his mind.
"She really wants to be normal, huh?" Victor said under his breath.
"I mean... she's kinda-" Victor elbowed Magdalena on her ribs before she could finish her sentence. Giving her a look that says 'don't'.
The whole cafe went silent when she entered the shop, she awkwardly said 'hi' before making her way to the queue. Everything else was a little bit of a blur for Y/n, as for some reason their heart started beating rapidly. Their fist clenched to the point his friend had to snap him out of his thoughts.
"I'm fine." Y/n responded with a faux smile before focusing his attention outside the window. He couldn't help but to focus on Wanda's voice when she ordered.
"I would like something to drink please." He heard Wanda speak, there was a beat of silence.
"Coffee? Tea?" The barista responded, soundingly uninterested and rude. Seems like the Barista wasn't a huge fan of Wanda, as normally the Barista was always so kind to Y/n and his friends.
"O-oh! Coffee, please." Another silence, "Cappucino, hot."
"That'll be $4.50." She could be heard rummaging through her purse and took out a some money to pay.
"I'm assuming you would need my name-"
"We know." The barista said rather coldly. Wanda could be heard clearing her throat nervously and waited for her order. It didn't take long before they called out, "Cappucino for Scarlet Witch."
Y/n glances at the bar, they noticed how tense she was upon hearing her title. The title she wishes everyone would forget. She gave a forced smile before turning and walking back to the exit. Seems like she was nervous, and then the worst possible thing could happen to someone happened to her...
Her purse got stuck on the door handle as she was about to walk out, causing her to spill her beverage. "Shit!" She cursed.
Y/n's two friends couldn't handle their snort upon seeing the tragedy. Wanda glances at them and awkwardly laughs, "Silly me." She says before hastily walking away from the shop.
"She is just adapting well to us mere mortals." Victor said sarcastically.
As much as Y/n wasn't exactly fond of the witch (for personal reasons), they did felt... a hint of sympathy towards her. He looked outside and saw her seemingly cursing at herself for the embarrassing encounter at the cafe.
Oh she's going to take a while to adapt...
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Y/n looked down at the notes their sister sent them and walked down the aisle to find the item. What seem to be a simple errand turned into a full blown grocery shopping, that bitch.
I just wanted to buy some ramen...
He picked up a bunch of items his sisters needed, and picked a pack of ramen for himself. While he was on the cereal section he heard that familiar voice again.
"Hi, ma'am, do you know where I could- O-oh, yes, that's alright have a good day!" He turns his attention to her direction, from the customers to the staff, they were all ignoring her existence. She visibly sighed and gave up on asking people. That's... what she deserves I guess.
He only saw her again as he was about to pay, they were queued just behind her. Crap.
"Sorry ma'am, we take cash only, the machine is broken at the moment." The cashier told her.
"I... I don't have any cash on me right now." She nervously laughs, "Are you sure? Because the customer before-"
"Look if you don't have cash you can pay with apple pay." Seems like the cashier just wanted to torment her, which she did as Wanda sighed in frustration.
"I don't- I don't have that set up on my phone yet." The cashier only shrugged their shoulders. "Fine. How much was-"
"$27.60" Wanda started rummaging through her purse again, desperately trying to find some cash left. She found... $5, ok that's a start. $10, ok we're getting there.
"Hey come on, lady! You're holding up the line!" The guy behind Y/n yelled, making Wanda panic slightly. Y/n closed his eyes, ugh fuckin-
They opened their eyes again, and Wanda was still hastily searching her bag as people got increasingly annoyed at her. They closed their eyes, agh Jesus fucking christ I better go to heaven for this-
"Ok, is there any-" Wanda's sentence was cut off when hand puts down a $50 dollar bill to pay for her checkout.
"You can just pay me back later." Wanda wanted to refuse, but she internally sighed in relief. The cashier gave Y/n the change and Wanda thanked them with the brightest smile. "Don't mention it." They said giving her a polite smile.
As Wanda walked out of the store, she took another glance at the young boy and smiled to herself. She made a mental note to find the youth later on.
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They didn't understand why they had to be so sympathetic to the psycho witch, especially after everything she had put them through. Everyone was doing just fine ignoring her presence, in fact, Y/n had the biggest right out of them all to ignore that crazy, wacko, mentally unstable-
"There you are!"
A familiar voice made Y/n whipped their head to the direction. Oh no... Don't tell me she thinks we're basically friends now. Wanda walked up to him with a smile, Y/n had a natural instinct to tense up. Just the sight of her, made him clenched his jaw.
"I just wanted to properly say thank you." She said, rubbing her hand nervously. She wore a simple red t-shirt, and jeans. Wanda looked like any normal civilian. If you had lived in a cave, unaware of the outside world, the idea that Wanda is capable of such chaos and destruction wouldn't cross your mind. "And uh... for your trouble."
Wanda then handed him cash of what she owes him. He looked at the money and then her. "This is.... $30"
"Oh you can keep it all." The witch said with a slight shake in her voice, she then cleared her throat. "U-unless you prefer it to be precise I can-" She pulled out her phone from her pocket. "I can use that uh... that app, Vimeo?"
Y/n couldn't help but to let out a chuckle, "Venmo. Vimeo is a like a... it's like Youtube." Am I really talking with this lady?
"Ah... Right, right, I... I knew that." She looked at her phone with confused look on her face. Wanda then let out a soft laugh. "Well imagine my confusion."
"Well, thank you. I could definitely use the extra $2." Y/n said with a smile.
"I should be thanking you." Wanda responded, she bit her lip slightly, wanting to continue the conversation with what it seems like the only person who sees her as a human. "I'm Wanda, by the way, Wanda Maximoff." She hold out her hand awkwardly.
"I uhm- I'm your new neighbor, but I- I'm sure you knew that already." She let out a nervous laugh.
Y/n didn't want to talk to the witch any longer than needed, sharing name would mean they were on first name basis. But if there's anything Y/n hated more... Being left hanging when you hold out your had.
"Y/n, nice to meet you, Wanda."
Wanda noticeably beamed at the fact that they didn't just brushed her off.
"Well I should be heading back. I live just across from you." Shit! Why did I say that??
"Oh then I hope to see more of you!" Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity-
"Yeah, see you around, Mrs. Maximoff." He said politely, giving her a smile and crossed the street to his house. He internally cursed at himself. Idiot!
Wanda turned around smiling to herself. I made a friend...
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For the next few weeks, Wanda never fails to greet them whenever she happens to see Y/n pass. She did that to everyone, of course, but no one ever really bothers to respond. Y/n desperately wanted to avoid her, but it was difficult as she continuously try to interact with everyone. Which... to be honest was quite sad.
He doesn't know why he felt bad, but seeing the woman trying so desperately to join society and no one giving her a chance was such a depressing sight to see. Not that Y/n should care, she shouldn't have done what she did. But...
Ugh... It doesn't take much for him to be polite at least.
So Y/n started to return her polite greetings. Whenever he sees her watering her flowers, she greet him with a wave and a smile. And Y/n does the same. They had to admit, seeing her so happy that someone responded was... kind of cute.
Eugh...
It went on for a while, so you could say they were on a friendly term. And Y/n had no plans on furthering that relationship. At least by choice.
"Hi there, Y/n!" She greeted with her usual smile and wave. It had been about 2 months since she lived here. "How's your morning jog?"
"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff. Uh... It was alright, nice weather today."
"I agree. Say, you fancy joining a party? I'm having a housewarming party this evening, you should come. There will be plenty of food." She asked with hopeful eyes.
"Uh..." Say no, say no, what the fuck are you- SAY NO. "I'll have to see, ma'am. I have a pretty packed schedule today."
Wanda tried to hide her disappointment as much as she could. She had heard tons of those excuses for days now, at least he was polite about his rejection. "That's alright, darling! I'm just across the road if you change your mind. And feel free to bring some friends!"
"I'll keep that in mind, Mrs. Maximoff. See you around!" Y/n said before going back to their house. They leaned on the closed door and sighed. Their sister looked at them expectantly.
"She invited you as well?" She said with a raised eyebrow.
Y/n sighed before answering, "Yeah..."
"I don't know why she even bothers. Not like anyone would take her up for it." His sister said dismissively as she went back to the living room, settling on the couch.
Y/n joins her and grabs the remote, "Maybe she has change."
"You've got to be one mentally ill fucker to say that, especially coming from you." She added, waiting for him to pick a movie. "Did she hex you or something-"
"I'm perfectly fine." Y/n sighed. "I just... Look she does seems like some woman who's trying to live a normal life."
"But she's not a woman, Y/n. She's a monster." She rubs her temple. "A lot of people gone mad in Westview, I'm sure you remember."
"How could I forget..."
"She could try all she wants, but I won't give her the benefit of the doubt. And I won't stop you if you decide too..." They looked at their sister who smiles at him gently. "The beauty of it is that you have a choice now, none of her victims did."
He looked at the floor, his sister could see the gears in his head moving.
"Though I have to say you are one mad son of a bitch if you did."
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I am one mad son of a bitch.
They thought to themselves as they rang her doorbell. I could still change my mind right? I can run-
"I'll be right there!"
Fuck!
Wanda opens the door, delighted to greet her guest. "Y/n! So glad you could make it."
"Hi, Mrs. Maximoff." They took in her dress, well she does look good. "You look stunning."
Wanda gave him a smile, "Thank you. Please, come in!"
They entered the house, it was cozy, small, homey, there were very little pictures hung up. They did notice one family picture, and what it looks like and old frame of her and her late brother. Her informations was easy to find on the internet, yes Y/n did their research.
The house was decorated for party mode. There was some snack on the table, fruit punch, and a few other things. However, it was missing a key ingredient...
"Sorry, am I early?" He turned to Wanda.
Wanda sighed, "Early is uh... one way to put it. You're the first one here the others must've been late. They said they'll stop by." She puts on a reassuring smile, but Y/n had a feeling she must've felt devastated.
And in fact, Wanda was. This housewarming party was her attempt to prove herself to the neighborhood that she was in fact not a threat, maybe make some friends... But no matter, she had one guest now.
"Take a seat!" She said enthusiastically, "Would you like something to drink?"
"Yeah sure, I'll get some fruit punch, looks really refreshing." The two settled down on the couch, there was a moment of awkward silent between them.
If there's one thing Y/n couldn't take, it was that.
"Here." They passed her the gift bag they had brought for her. "It's an old record player I had lying around, I don't ever use it anymore and I thought it would go with uh..." He searched for the right words, "Someone of your generation?"
Wanda took the gift with a smile and gave him a funny look, "You make it sounds like I'm old." She said jokingly. "But thank you. You didn't have too, but I appreciate it."
It was a red colored Crosley turntable. It was portable, and had a built in speaker. Her heart swelled at their gesture. "There's some vinyls in there as well, I hope you like the Beatles."
"I love the Beatles."
"I'll help you set it up." He said with a kind smile. Wanda decided to put the record player in her living room, perhaps some tune would help set up the mood. They plugged it in and Y/n made her choose the album. Wanda scanned the various albums, looking at the front cover and the back with a smile on her face.
She puts on one album and the song 'Twist and Shout' started to play. "Now this is a party." Wanda said, earning a chuckle from the youth. She then lightly bop her head into the song, twisting her legs like one of those old style dance. For a second she seems to lost her self into the music.
Y/n had always seen Wanda in... sort of a negative light. But seeing her smiling, dancing, just interacting with her on a more personal level... They were starting to see Wanda in an entirely new light.
The woman then turns to face the youth, she had a bright smile on her face as she made a 'come here' motion to him. "Not much of a dancer?"
They let out a laugh and joined Wanda. "I'll have you know I'm an incredible dancer."
Music was the exact ice breaker that they needed, they wen't from keeping their distance to even occasionally twirling each other playfully. Y/n had to admit, he was having fun with the witch. Wanda had a contagious laugh, an intoxicating energy, a smile that could light up a whole room, and she was so so... beautiful-
Why am I thinking about her like this?
"So Y/n, tell something about yourself. I'd like to get to know my neighbors better." Wanda asked once the music ended and it started playing a much slower song in the albums. They sat on the couch with a snack dividing their space.
"Oh I'm just your typical fresh graduate, ma'am. Still trying to find where I'm gonna belong here in the workforce." Y/n responded with a dry chuckle.
"I'm sure you'll find your place." She look down at her drink with a small smile. "Friend of mine always said there's a place for everyone in the world."
The way she said it so softly, made tugged something inside Y/n's heart. She really is just trying to fit in the world like the rest of us.
"And you, ma'am? Who is Wanda Maximoff?" He asked teasingly, getting more comfortable with her each minute. He popped some chips in his mouth, anticipating her answer.
"Me? Oh you know... I'm a retired old psycho witch." She said jokingly.
Y/n couldn't help the snort that came out of them, "Sorry-" Ok. She's got humor.
Wanda laughs and waved him off, "Don't be." She thought for a second before answering properly. "Well... I'm sure my informations are out there. Former Avenger turned villain, was... a threat to humanity once, served my time of redemption and here I am."
"Those are old news." Y/n said. "I'm asking along the lines of, who is Wanda Maximoff. What does she do for fun?"
Wanda tilted her head at his question, tiny smile creeped onto her face. No one... ever really asked her that question before. Wanda took a drink of her fruit punch before answering.
"I..." She cleared her throat, "I enjoy reading in my spare time, I love gardening as you can tell." Y/n listen intently with a soft smile on their face. "I like board games, I have a few collection of those, and... cooking."
She finishes with a smile. "Not the answers you were expecting?"
"Yeah... I honestly expected potions brewing." Wanda bursted out laughing at his response. A genuine hearty laugh. "With cauldrons and everything." He said jokingly, trying to get more amusement out of her.
She's so cute when she laughs.
"Don't tell me you think witches do potions brewing do you?"
"They don't?!" He asked in an exaggerate tone, which amuses Wanda further as she shook her head still with a smile on her face.
She then leaned against the her seat. "Maybe some do."
"Did you also had a wand like Harry Potter?"
The two shared another laugh, and they fell into an easy conversation from there. Wanda learned that Y/n lives with their sister, his parents were retired in Vancouver, Canada. She made a mental note to travel there as it seems like a wonderful place to live. Y/n just recently graduated from University and had planned on moving to New York once they had saved enough money.
Y/n learned that Wanda was also fond of drawing, painting, anything art related. She drew flowers that she grew in her garden mostly, but she occasionally draws a portrait of people. And she was actually pretty good.
Wanda gave him a tour of the house, her kitchen was surprisingly well equipped. Her living room had a 4K flat screen TV. She shyly admits that she enjoys watching movies and shows so she wanted put a little more money on investing in a decent screen. Y/n couldn't judge, they binge watch Netflix all the time too.
The clock soon hits 11 o'clock and Y/n remains the only guest at her party. He felt pity on her, as he could see from all the drinks and food, she really went out of her way only for no one to show up. They would assumed that Wanda felt sad and depressed, but to quite honest, Wanda was so happy that even one person attend her party.
Y/n was kind and polite, they treated Wanda like she was their neighbor instead of some witch. She couldn't be more grateful.
They were playing a game of Jenga when she noticed how late it was. "It's getting late." She told him as he was pulling out a block of wood from the tower with pure concentration, he was even sticking out his tongue.
"Mhmmm... I just need to-" The tower then falls and he groaned in frustration. Wanda laughs at his adorable nature. "You did that on purpose, you just wanted to kick me out!" He jokingly accused her.
"I did not!" She playfully shoved his shoulder. Y/n helped her cleaned up the block of woods before being escorted to the front door by Wanda. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Maximoff. I had a really great time."
"Please, just Wanda." She smiled at him. "And I should be thank you. This is the most fun I've had in a long time."
"So did I." He smiled at her while stepping outside. "If you need anything, I'm just across the road. Don't hesitate to stop by."
"I will, thank you." She smiled sweetly at him. Y/n walked backwards while waving goodbye at her.
"And I want a rematch!" He said before finally turning around to walk back to his house. Wanda laughs saying 'Of course' under her breath and closed the door.
She leaned against the door and let out a happy sighed. I really made a friend!
Smut next chapter homie? 👀
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nyrasproblm · 11 hours
Text
Ignorance
part 1/?
Joel Miller x fem!reader
Summary: You confess to Joel and are rejected.
Word Count: 2K
Warning: angst, rejection, mention of the Apocalypse (don't tell me), mention of deaths.
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Ignoring the bad part of things was your favorite thing to do. It made you less sad and gave a false sense of normality in the destroyed and rotten reality you lived in. Not that Jackson was destroyed and rotten, but the world outside the gates was. So that's why you ignored everything, the spores, the cordyceps, the clickers, runners, lurkers, all of them. You did everything to escape being put on patrol, you wouldn't leave Jackson unless it was a matter of life and death. His tasks in the community were taking care of the gardens, the stables and cleaning the community cafeteria.
It seems like a lot, but it's good for not looking idle and useless, it takes up your entire day and gives you a feeling of work accomplished and satisfaction at the end of the day, when you climb the few old wooden steps to the porch of your house. Those steps really need replacing, actually. If you stood still for more than a few minutes on top of them you ran the risk of falling. But you left that aside, you had something else in mind. In fact, you had one person in mind.
That almost completely gray-haired man, with a grey beard, robust, deep and serious voice, strong Texan accent. Joel Miller. You couldn't stand being around him for more than a few minutes, your heart was beating very quickly and you felt butterflies in your stomach. The man was Ellie's father, a girl a few years younger than you, she was a bit foul-mouthed but nice, you had already spoken to her a few times.
You held your breath from the first time you saw him in the community a year ago, and it's never been the same since. Whenever you passed him on the streets you held an idiotic sigh, you felt like a teenager for acting like that, but you couldn't help it. The man had your heart in his hands and you couldn't do anything to get it back.
Some people in Jackson spoke badly about Joel behind his back, saying he was a surly, violent man who had a lot of mood swings. One of your few friends, Emily, said the same thing when you mentioned Joel to her, but you ignored it. It wasn't like he was that bad, it should just be that the hard years he lived outside the gates were taking a toll on him, but you were sure he was a good person.
You said this to Emily, but she reiterated that Joel was an extremely violent and bad-tempered man who had done terrible things in the outside world. You chuckled and said 'and who hasn't done terrible things out there?'. Emily sighed and the conversation ended there
Holidays in Jackson were celebrated without fail, especially the most famous ones, like Christmas and New Year, but Maria began to innovate and encourage other things, like spring food festivals, Mother's Day, and Valentine's Day. It seemed strange to celebrate Valentine's Day at the end of the world, but the young people in the community seemed to get excited, you included, so hearts and pink things were hung on the doors of the houses and some lights were painted pink too, in the community bar.
Oh, one thing that wasn't mentioned: his house was almost opposite Joel's house. A coincidence. You took advantage of the Valentine's Day arrangements and picked up some decorations to hang in your house, a medium pink paper heart was glued, and next to it two small red hearts. You pulled away and smiled widely as you looked at the minimal decorations that gave some life to the almost colorless landscape.
You heard heavy footsteps trampling the snow and turned to see the man himself, shotgun slung over his shoulders, backpack on his back and a tired expression on his face. Joel looked directly at your door, then looked at you and shook his head and turned to enter his own without saying anything.
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You let out an excited squeal along with other women whenever someone confessed to their loved one or handed over a hastily made card. The number of these events had been increasing since the community was dressed up for the holiday. You couldn't wait to do the same, you had already planned everything, you had handmade a card for Joel, it wasn't pink or red, he didn't seem to like those things very much. It was a nice card that could be used to decorate his room, or something like that, if he didn't actually have a room.
You wouldn't do that in front of everyone, you knew Joel was an older and reserved man, he didn't seem to like attention. You didn't know his schedule, you only saw him occasionally passing home at dusk, so that's what you did: you sat on your sofa below the window and waited until Joel passed by. As soon as he appeared in your field of vision with the same thick beige jacket, the same shotgun slung over his shoulder, the same worn brown backpack and the same heavy boots you stood up and took a deep breath. She watched until he entered the house and closed the door, then took the card from the coffee table and put on his coat, opened the door and took the few steps it took until he arrived at Joel's house.
The card you had prepared was made of yellow paper, folded in half, it had a bee drawn with your best artistic gifts and right below it there was the phrase 'Bee mine?' in large black letters. You let out a giggle through your nose and walked up the few steps to Joel's house, knocked on the door softly and waited.
You didn't notice, but the window curtain moved to open a tiny crack, where Joel peeked out. A few seconds later the door opened and you caught your breath. There he was, he looked tired and you felt bad for going to talk to him at this time. Shaking your head slightly, you were about to start speaking, but before you could open your mouth, Joel spoke:
"May I help you?" the hoarse voice spoke.
"Oh, good night." you said shyly after a few minutes. "I... I wanted to, uhm–"
"Listen, young lady, I don't mean to be rude, but I just got here and I'm tired." he continued.
You swallowed hard and took the card from behind your back, holding it towards him.
"I-I was hoping to talk, but you're tired, so... here it is, I made it for you." you waved the card but he didn't move to take it. "It's for Valentine's Day."
Your stomach was churning, his expression didn't look very good, he looked very seriously at you, then looked at the card.
"You can take it, it’s for you–” you tried to extend the card to him again.
"I'm sorry, but, did you really think this was a good idea, girl?" the tone of voice was rude now. "Coming over to my house like that and handing me a piece of paper?"
"I– uhm, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you." you swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I just wanted to give the card I made."
"And why do you want to give me this bullshit so much?"
You had your face lowered but you looked up, slightly wide-eyed at his aggressive sentence, consumed by a wave of angry courage you blurted out:
"I really like you."
"What?" he said mockingly after a few seconds. "Do you really like me?"
"Yes." you answered bravely, still feeling the lump in your throat. "I– I really like you, I mean… I mean I'm in love with you."
Joel stared at your face for a few seconds, as if studying you, then let out a light nasal laugh and said:
"I'm old enough to be your father, girl. Go home and don't bother me again, you seem like the pushy type."
"Listen, please, I've loved you for a long time–"
"What are you talking about, stupid girl?" he looked very angry now, his brow was furrowed and his nostrils were flared. "Love? You don't know what you're talking about."
"If you give me a chance to–"
"Go home, I told you." he said. "There's no chance of that, or anything else, I don't want anything to do with someone like you, understand? Don't bother me anymore."
Then he went back inside and slammed the door in your face.
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You knew very early and came home very late to avoid laying eyes on Joel. Maybe she shouldn't have ignored the warnings about him after all, but he was still present in your heart. You shoved the card deep into your dresser, you were embarrassed to look at it now.
Ironically, now that you wanted to be more busy you had less work, winter had arrived and the ground was frozen, so the garden was at a standstill. So you dedicated yourself to the horses and cleaning the mess hall, returning home at almost the same time as always.
You hadn't told Emily what you were going to do and you hadn't told her about the rejection either, she was going to throw it in your face that she had warned you. You felt so stupid now, how could you have thought you had a chance? So much self-esteem.
The days passed quickly and you were thankful for that, but it wasn't like you forgot what happened. Your first interaction with Joel since the incident was when you were cleaning the cafeteria to close, it was already dark and it was practically empty. Mopping the floor repeatedly and sighing every now and then, you didn't see him walk through the large doors.
"Are you guys finishing early?" the thick Texan accent spoke from behind you and you froze momentarily, then turned to him with an effort of blank expression.
"This week, yes, we are down one person." you replied and went back to mopping the floor.
"Okay, thanks." he seemed to hesitate for a moment before walking outside again, and you let out a sharp breath.
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The universe seemed to make fun of you and a few days later you had your next interaction with Joel.
Someone covered you in cleaning the cafeteria, so you used the free time to try to fix the rotten steps on your porch. As you repeatedly hammered the nails into place, you felt a poke on your shoulder and stopped your movements, feeling your stomach turn in knots when you saw Joel behind you.
"Can I help you?" you asked, standing up and brushing the snow and dirt off your knees.
"Do you realize it's already night? I need to go out on patrol tomorrow and you're making too much noise." he said rudely.
"Right. I'm sorry." You turned around and started picking up the tools you used, holding them against your chest and seeing the best way to climb without falling.
You had only fixed one of the steps, the one closest to the ground, so you climbed up on it and stretched your leg to try to climb over the others, but the new step wasn't securely fastened and you slipped, letting out a pathetic little scream.
You heard footsteps approaching and his arms lifting you off the ground quickly.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Joel's deep voice asked and you glanced at him sideways.
"I'm fine, thank you." you replied and saw him come closer to rest his hand on the small of your back. "Don't touch me." you exclaimed.
"I just wanted to see if you were hurt." he took a few steps back, looking embarrassed.
"I am well, thank you." you responded quickly and walked away from him, picking up the materials you used earlier again.
You balanced yourself and took a little jump to the porch, entered and closed the door.
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nelkcats · 10 months
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The Return of the Speedster
Years had passed since Wally's death. Years since the Young Justice team had split up because of it, none of them could move on, as much as they liked to pretend about it, Nightwing was the one who had taken it the worst.
While the years passed on the hero's dimension, Danny was exploring Clockwork's haunt in the Infinite Realms, something that took him a long time as his mentor was hard to convince; while he was at it he found something strange. Clocky had told him it was the "Speedforce" although the halfa had no idea what that meant. He frowned wanting to explore it but his mentor stopped him every time, telling him it wasn't safe.
Unfortunately that wasn't enough to stop the teenager, who slipped into the crack in time. Danny was quite lucky, as the watch that had merged with him long ago from the "Dark Dan" incident had left him somewhat immune to the effects the site had, not that he knew it.
When he stepped inside, all he saw was an incomprehensible place. Since he wasn't seeing something interesting he was about to leave when he noticed a boy in a weird suit running. He raised an eyebrow in confusion, didn't Clocky tell him the place was off limits?
The boy noticed him too and explained in panic that the place was dangerous and could kill him. To which Danny rolled his eyes.
"I don't think you can kill something dead" he scoffed showing his ghostly tail. The boy didn't take that revelation very well, as he started muttering about being dead and in the afterlife. Danny, seeing that the boy had gotten distracted and stopped running, pulled him out of the place and guided him towards Clockwork's haunt. He had to ask his mentor about the weird kid and the best way was well, kidnap him from the strange place.
Both ghosts watched the speedster (Wally?) continue to mumble about having passed into the afterlife while having an existential crisis on the couch. Danny was tempted to tell him he was alive and everything was a misunderstanding but he had to get information first. And maybe get him back home if it was all a mistake.
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 2 months
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Playing with his nerves
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader (y/n)
Warnings: once again..SMUT!!!
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The door closes behind you as you enter the apartment carrying the PR package that the delivery man just brought to you. You pass through the living room with it where Charles was casually lying on the couch watching TV and enjoying his time off.
"What's that?" He asks stopping you.
"Oh, just some PR package that I got." You nonchalantly say hoping he won't drop the subject.
"For promotion?"
"Mhm." You mutter nodding your head.
"Well, what's in there?"
"Just some lingerie" You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling before you quickly disappear into your bedroom.
"What-? Some what?" It's like your words jolt him and he immediately gets up from the couch and follows after you. "Y/n?" But by the time he reaches the bedroom, you already locked yourself in the bathroom stripping the clothes you were in down and putting on the new set.
"Y/n, open the door" He says banging on the bathroom door.
"In a minute!" Putting your hand over your mouth so that he doesn't hear you laughing, it takes everything in you to pull yourself together and to proceed with the plan you came up with.
Although it was true, they really sent you a two-piece set of red lace lingerie. You didn't really mean to show yourself in that to the whole world, but you wanted play with Charles for a bit and to spice things up knowing that he would go crazy over it.
"You're going to promote lingerie? Take pictures of yourself in it? I hope I got it wrong, y/n." You can already feel the anger building up in his voice, and he hasn't even seen you yet.
Charles sits on the armchair nervously tapping his foot up and down impatiently waiting for you. Minutes later you unlock the door showing yourself in a two piece red sheer set leaning against the door frame and arching your back.
"Oh fuck me.." He sighs under his breath running his fingers through his curls. His brows were furrowed and lips slightly parted at the sight of you.
"What do you think? Looks good? You think it fits me?" You ask provocatively moving closer to him swaying your hips, his gaze never leaving your body. That red sheer lace bra and panties fit you perfectly, hugging your body in all the right places it looked like it was custom made for you.
"I think it looks pretty good. You can help me take the pictures in it if you want to." You slowly straddled him sitting in his lap. He laid back into the armchair admiring you up and down as you positioned yourself on his crotch that was growing by the second. You wrap your arms around his neck and teasingly slow start to rock back and forth against him.
"I think everyone's jaws will drop when they see me in this, no?" He was speechless, all you could hear from him was his heavy breathing. You had all the control over him, but that didn't last for long.
"Ahh" You hiss as his hands find your waist, his fingertips leaving white prints on your skin from how tightly he gripped it.
You could feel his temperature rising with every word that left your mouth. His gaze was angry, but full of lust for you. You knew exactly what you were doing. Getting him mad hard, you knew how to do it best.
"You don't know what you just got yourself into. You better stop talking now." It feels like forever since he said anything. He makes you wrap your legs around him as he stands up with you and walks you over to the bed roughly throwing you down.
"You really think I'd let you post a picture of yourself wearing this?" He asked as he took off his t-shirt and pants tossing them to the side before hovering over you. "Cause if you do, fuck baby, then you're even crazier than I am." He attaches his lips to your neck sucking on it, then slowly starts making his way down your body leaving sloppy wet kisses all the way down to your panties.
"You think you can forbid me things?" You dare to ask.
And he could. You knew he could, there was no arguing about that. You just wanted to push his buttons.
"Oh, just watch me." He chuckles pushing the sheer material aside gliding his fingers over your wet pussy. You grip the sheets as his long fingers enter you pumping in and out making you buck your hips up begging for more.
"Charles.."
"Look at you. Already clenching around my fingers, and I haven't even fucked you yet." The pace of his fingers quickened while his other hand grabbed your butt. You were a whimpering mess beneath him. You loved it when he took control, it turned you on, he could make you cum just by his words.
You felt yourself getting closer and just when you wanted to cum all over his fingers, of course, he pulled them out you bringing them closer to his lips and licking them clean.
"So sweet"
"No.." You cry out squinting your eyes. He doesn't give you time to complain but quickly turns you over so that your butt is on full display for him. He collects your hair into a ponytail pulling on it and grinding his hard cock against your butt as you arch your back for him.
"I can't wait to shove my dick inside you. It's so fucking hard. You feel it? I'm gonna ruin you for being such a brat." He groans into your ear. You try to grind your hips against the mattress to get any kind of the friction to your throbbing clit.
"Please, Charles, please" You sounded pathetic. You don't remember the last time you needed him as much as you do now. You don't know what you just got yourself into. You remember the words.
He did warn you tho.
" I'm sorry I can't hear you over all the noise you're making. You want me to fuck you? Hm?" You don't even have to turn around to know that he had a smug smirk on his face watching you struggle like this.
"Oh fuck" You wince at harsh spanks across your ass that echoed through the room.
"Red prints of my hand on your ass look too good with this set. They match the shade you know? You wanna show them how you're taking me like a big girl?" He growls. He was getting impatient to bury himself deep inside you.
The sight of you lying so helpless and moaning his name was driving him crazy so he turned you over on your back again and without any hesitation he thrust into you. You were drenching him, he could literally hear how wet you were from slapping of your skin. Gasping into each others mouth both of you drunk off of pleasure, he wrapped his hand around your neck.
"You look so good like this. When you're struggling to breathe underneath me, fuck, it makes me go wild. You like it when I fuck you hard don't you?" He asks and you nod digging your nails into the skin on his back.
"You could've just asked me then, you don't have to play with my nerves every damn time" He says through gritted teeth, clenching his jaw. The smirk on your face outrages him.
"Oh you think that's funny?" He asks slamming into you as hard and as far as it goes hitting your deepest spot making you wince in pain.
"Fuck Charles, it hurts" You cry out and regret provoking him in a heartbeat.
"Then better start behaving." His movements were slowly starting to get sloppier, holding back and waiting for you was getting too difficult. Both of you were panting, moans escaping your lips, beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. "I'd love to finish inside you like every night, fuck, but since you wanna promote this, I'll just have to cum all over that red bra and panties you know?"
Your breath was hitching with his every thrust, your walls starting to clench as you creamed all around him. Him hearing you scream out his name and seeing your eyes roll back sent him over the edge and he quickly pulled out of you cumming all over you just like he promised to.
"Fuuuckk ahh.." He was growling out loud while jerking himself off watching his cum spray all over. "You can take pictures now before you hand that set over to me."
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lovelyhan · 2 months
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— melting point ⟢
rumor has it that icy department head of pledis insurance has something going on with her loyal secretary, wonwoo. well, she does—it's just not the kind of behind-closed-doors business one would expect for them to partake in.
★ FEATURING; secretary!wonwoo x afab!oc
★ WORD COUNT; 12.3k words
★ TAGS; coworkers to lovers, revenge fic, angst, smut
★ WARNINGS; blackmailing, manipulation, mentions of past bullying, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)
★ NOTES; hi... it's been forever, hasn't it? i missed tumblr a lot, and have decided to grace the tags with this fic after months of radio silence heheh ! this was a commissioned piece on twt which i tweaked to fit my tumblr audience better! cheers to 5k followers even in my absence t__t you guys are the best!
★ PS; i'm sorry i can't be bothered to dig up my taglist and tag those who filled it up T T
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There’s a saying in PLEDIS Insurance that goes: enjoy your coffee early because once the Ice Queen is in, it’ll turn just as cold as she is. 
Of course, the words were merely thrown around in jest. Something that bored employees come up with in the break room whenever they’re careless enough to think their little jokes won’t reach said ice queen’s ears. But still—they’re just jokes. As long as they worked enough to satisfy their salaries’ worth, Emma the Ice Queen would always turn a blind eye. She might be cold, but she isn’t completely heartless.
Most of the time.
“Good morning, ma’am,” her secretary, Wonwoo, greeted with a curt nod as she entered her office. 
Emma scoffed before setting her things down on her work desk, the frown on her face only worsening when she sees the elegantly wrapped gift box in front of her. “What's this?” 
Wonwoo swallowed thickly, like he was nervous. Wonwoo never gets nervous.
“We have an...unforeseen circumstance,” he prefaced before tapping away on the iPad in his arms. “Sir Leo from the Choi group wants to pursue you.”
“Unforeseen?” Emma repeated. “Wonwoo, this is completely foreseen. Isn't it our from the start is to make them fall in love, only for us to expose their dirty secrets in the end?”
He looked as if he wanted to agree. But after turning the screen of his iPad so Emma could see the article written on some shoddy newsletter, her brows furrowed together in confusion.
A Race for the Inheritance: How the Choi Group’s Next Generation of Ambitious Youngbloods Will Do Everything to Get Their Fill of Old Money. 
The title itself didn’t give Emma much context of what exactly was making Wonwoo—her ever-composed secretary—lose his composure. It’s natural to see the sons and daughters of a powerful business conglomerate fight each other for their rights to the family inheritance. But after reading through what the rest of the article had to offer, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly started to fit.
“They're seeing who gets to get married first?” Emma laughed incredulously before handing the iPad back to Wonwoo. “Does Leo really think he can get me to become his lover—even more so his wife—after everything he did to me in high school?”
Wonwoo breathed in deeply. “Miss Emma, we both know the answer to that. If it were all up to you, you could easily put him to shame and reject him. But his interests somewhat align with the director’s interests as well…”
Ah. Her father’s interests.
“No,” she answered sharply. “Even if he kicks me out of my position, I’m not going to be wed to that prick.”
“Are you sure about that?” Wonwoo sighed before adjusting his glasses. “Miss Emma, we both know you love your work more than anything. And you're chronically attached to this company even if you despise the executives. Sir Leo has good leverage over you, sad to say.”
There was something irritating about hearing Wonwoo call his ex-best friend Sir, as if he was underneath some scumbag of a human being like Leo. But then again, years have passed since then. Lots of things have changed. 
But Emma’s grudges hold steadfast, still.
“Hmph, whatever.” She dismissed the matter with a nonchalant wave before unwrapping the gift box in front of her. “Was this from Leo, too? Is he on a deadline or something?”
“Hmm, first one that gets married before December gets the rights to the inheritance,” Wonwoo informed her as he picked the clutter of ribbons off Emma’s desk and pocketed them in his coat for later disposal. “Do you want me to look up the progress of his siblings and cousins? We can sabotage him while it's still early.”
Emma didn’t respond right away—preoccupied with unwrapping Leo's so-called gift. But when she sees a red velvet box with an engagement ring and a folded letter inside, she begrudgingly realized that Leo wouldn’t be as easy a target as her other high school bullies.
No, this man really was rotten to the core.
By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you already heard the news. You know what to do, right, Emma?
Or should I say, wifey? ;)
“Send this back to him. Now.”
Wonwoo nodded obediently as Emma pushed Leo's cursed gift box away from her. “Alright. Anything else I can do for you? Like…have someone plant a snake in his bedroom or something?”
Despite the sour mood that Leo undoubtedly put her in this morning, Wonwoo's little idea of a joke made the corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile. The offer was tempting, but in the end, she shook her head and booted up the PC on her desk instead.
“As much as I want his death by a snake bite to headline the news, Leo doesn’t deserve to get out of this the easy way.” Emma muttered as she started browsing through the hard-drive she’d hooked up onto the computer. “And lucky for us, I finally got the evidence to send his suspiciously prosperous career down into a spiral.”
Wonwoo raised an eyebrow before taking a peek behind her. “What's that? Money laundering records? Tax fraud?” 
No. It was really something as simple as—
“Footage of a mass orgy he participated in,” Emma casually told her secretary as she clicked on the only video on the hard drive. “Might not look like a big deal compared to what we had to go through with Ezra, but Leo belongs to a family of devout Catholics. Good thing your contact from Leo's favorite bar had some use. All I did was ask around and he quickly spilled all the details with the right amount of money.”
Wonwoo chuckled as he flashed her an impressed look. “As far as I know, I’m the one who’s supposed to do the dirty work for you. Why are you directly involving yourself in matters you can leave to me?” 
The lewd video continued to play on her screen—muted, of course—and one could easily make out Leo Choi's face amongst the crowd of sex-depraved freaks. Once they sent this over anonymously to each and every person who might think that scumbag deserved to inherit his family’s wealth, it would be all over for him.
“‘Cause we’re a team, Wonwoo,” she chuckled. “You’ve done your fair share of work when we took down Gavin and Ezra. But admittedly…I've got more bones to pick with Leo. I think it’s only fair for me to orchestrate his downfall with my own two hands.”
“Right…” Wonwoo agreed with a hint of fondness in his tone that completely went over Emma’s head—far too triumphant with her newfound ammunition. 
“We’re a team.”
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But it wasn’t always that way.
Wonwoo was actually more deeply involved in Emma’s mission to exact revenge on the people who’ve wronged her years ago than one would otherwise expect. He’d been best friends with Leo since they were kids, and when they eventually met Gavin and Ezra in their high school basketball team, the four of them were quite inseparable. 
But despite being his best friend, Wonwoo knew that Leo could be quite…off-putting with his behavior sometimes.
“Hey, look at that,” Sixteen year-old Leo scoffed before gesturing towards the loud girl earning amused stares in the cafeteria. “She's so fucking loud. Is she the new transfer student?”
Gavin snickered as he took a bite out of his lunch. “How'd she even get in here? Our tuition isn't a joke, and she doesn't really look like she can afford it. The kid of a maid, maybe?”
“Or she could be one of those financial scholarship kids,” Ezra pitched in with a shrug. “Though she doesn't look very bright if we're being honest.”
Wonwoo didn’t offer anything to the conversation, merely eating his food quietly as his friends talked smack about the new transfer student in their class. Emma Rodriguez was like a piece of meat thrown into a pit of vipers. Some might like her—like the classmates who were howling with laughter because of her antics—but others looked at her with disdain. 
She didn’t belong to any wealthy well-known families like every other kid in their grade. The girl simply popped out of nowhere like an eyesore, according to Leo. Wonwoo didn’t really mind her presence though. She made the boring monotone of his school days a bit more bearable with her energy.
But what Wonwoo thought was just his friends’ surface-level dislike for a girl who behaved differently from the others in their grade turned out to be something else.
Something worse.
He wasn’t stupid. He knew what bullying was, and was well-aware that what his friends constantly did to Emma wasn’t something that normal high schoolers did. Leo was the most vicious about it, and Wonwoo never really got to know his reasons for doing all those horrible things. 
But whenever they spotted Emma horsing around in the hallways, Leo would always be the first one to come up to her—calling her names like fraud, gold digger, and the like. Gavin and Ezra followed each and every time, and they were usually the ones who pushed her around for no real reason.
And Wonwoo? Wonwoo was the one who always stood a few feet away every time his friends decided they were in the mood to pick on the transfer student. The one who always stayed quiet and pretended nothing unsightly was happening in front of him.
The one whose gaze Emma always tried to silently catch, hoping he’d be the one to stop his friends from harassing her. 
But he never did.
That cycle of three boys bullying a once bright and bubbly transfer student became commonplace. Before their third year in high school came to a close, Emma suddenly vanished off the radar. She didn’t attend their classes, nor was she there in the completion ceremonies at the end of every school year. 
Most of the kids around Wonwoo didn’t really give two shits about her sudden disappearance. Word around the street was that she transferred out because of the heavy harassment she was getting, not just from his friends, but also the rest of the students from their grade. They didn’t think Emma was funny because of her silly antics and loud jokes anymore.
Everyone started to collectively think of her as a nuisance, and the fact that she had no familial connections to protect herself with only fed into the senseless yet oh-so popular trend of crushing Emma Rodriguez’s hopes and dreams into the ground.
It was almost like Wonwoo was the only person in their entire grade who felt the tiniest bit of pity for her. But he told himself long ago that someone like him had no right to feel sorry for someone he never bothered trying to help. 
The years passed by in a flash. After Emma’s disappearance, Wonwoo quit the basketball team and  completely cut off his friends and everyone else who actively hurt her. He didn’t really know why either—all he knew was that he couldn’t stomach the idea of keeping those connections despite what they drove Emma to do. 
Of course, he knew he wasn’t completely innocent either. But it wasn’t too late to be a decent person, right?
Wonwoo simply went through the motions of graduating high school, then college, before pursuing a career in the vicious world of the corporate hierarchy. But instead of gunning for executive positions like his fellow fresh grads dared to dream, he worked his way up without using his family’s prestige to his own advantage. 
In fact, Wonwoo realized he liked working closely with his bosses. That’s why he became the designated secretary to all the finance department heads who walked through the doors of PLEDIS Insurance. He was content with being a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy who’s at the beck and call of someone else—a tool who worked on the sidelines. He never really wanted to be the face of any company anyway.
But then, in his fifth year on the job, he was told that there were a couple of changes in PLEDIS’ executive board. The boss he’d been working under was set to retire and he’d be replaced with a new one—someone younger and full of promise, as the head of human resources dramatically explained to him. 
It wasn’t really a deal breaker or anything. As long as Wonwoo got paid, he’d gladly work for even the most terrible of people in this industry.
But on the day his new boss was set to start, he was haunted by a ghost from the past instead.
Wonwoo hasn’t spared a single thought for Emma Rodriguez in God knows how long. Yet the moment she stepped into the office, he recognized her almost immediately. There was no trace of that girl people called gold digger and other derogatory names because of her appearance. This was a woman with her head held high—someone who oozed confidence in every stride with a gaze sharper than her winged eyeliner. 
Yet Wonwoo couldn’t be mistaken. This really was Emma Rodriguez.
He wondered if she remembered him, too. The boy who kept quiet about those who bullied her in those few crucial years of her life. Wonwoo even considered apologizing for not doing anything to help her when he should have. 
“Ah, Wonwoo Jeon?” Emma repeated his name with a dismissive air, almost like she was wholly uninterested in him. “The one who just watched when Gavin Kim pushed me in the muddy courtyard at school? The one who pretended not to see when Leo Choi splashed paint all over my uniform? Of course I remember you.”
God. Was this her exacting retribution?
For the next few days since she came into the office, Wonwoo helped Emma get used to the feel of things in the Finance Department. At least, that was his intention. 
From the looks of it, Emma already knew the ins-and-outs of managing a company’s cash inflow and outflow, as well as the other gritty, more technical details that came with accounting for each and every cent. She managed to prepare and present several sets of data that his previous boss had trouble organizing to the current board of directors within two days’ time. 
Her work ethic was admirable—she got the job done quickly and efficiently, and that made her earn the respect of her subordinates faster than Wonwoo had seen them warm up to their previous bosses. It would have been the perfect relationship between the new department head and her employees, if it weren’t for Emma’s stone cold behavior towards other people. 
Not only did she look different from the Emma he knew in high school, but she acted differently too. Wonwoo couldn’t picture this Emma purposely making a fool out of herself just to make the people around her laugh. This Emma wanted the entire team to get the work handed to them done as soon as possible, and if they did, the most they’d receive in return is a mere nod in approval and nothing else.
It was for that reason that employees would start calling her the Ice Queen. Though she wasn’t some tyrant that gave people an unreasonable workload—she was actually very lenient and fair about the division of tasks—her people skills needed a little work. 
That or Emma was purposely shutting everyone out with her chilly attitude. 
Wonwoo had a few clues as to why she’d want to do that, but he’s a secretary, not a therapist. The only thing he could do about it was to keep his silence.
But then came a day when Emma asked him to come into her office to do something he completely expected from her but didn’t at the same time.
“Are you still in touch with Leo, Gavin, and Ezra?” she asked him, not even bothering to look up from the report she’s reading off her PC.
The question caught Wonwoo off-guard and it was obvious Emma caught on to his reaction if the tiny smirk that curved across her lips was anything to go by. Still, he took it in stride—breathing in through his nose as he thought about his answer.
He hasn’t been in touch with any of them since his high school graduation. All their attempts at reaching out to Wonwoo to invite him for a quick game of ball or a round of drinks somewhere in the city were all ignored. Not even turned down—ignored. 
Leo was the most persistent about it. After all, they were best friends. But after several years of Wonwoo not even bothering to give their invites a single glance, Leo stopped reaching out altogether. Wonwoo's life became a lot more peaceful since he cut ties with them, and he never really regretted the decision to do so. 
But perhaps the universe really was telling him to pay the price for his past inaction now that Emma was bringing up the past on a regular Wednesday afternoon. 
“No, ma’am,” he told her honestly. “Do you want me to reach out to them? Their contact details are pretty easy to get our hands on.”
Emma sighed quietly before meeting his gaze, an unreadable look hovering across her face. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d like that. But aren't you going to ask why I want to contact them again?”
He wanted to, but Wonwoo learned that in his line of work, the last thing he should do was ask questions. It made him wonder if Emma was purposely setting him up on some sort of conversational bear trap, but seeing as he didn’t really have anything to lose by giving, he chose to relent. 
“...Why?”
The silence of her office rang in his ears as Emma typed away on her keyboard. It was a mechanical one with tactile switches that matched the color of her desktop wallpaper. He didn’t take her to be someone who cared enough about aesthetics to that degree, but then again, Wonwoo never really got a chance to get to know her back then. 
He was too much of a coward to do so.
Once she was done, Emma got up from her ergonomic chair (which also matched her desktop setup), leveling her gaze with Wonwoo's even if the latter was easily a head taller than she was. Something about the glint in her eyes made him swallow the lump in his throat. Not to mention that sweet yet chilly smile that graced her bright red lips.
“It’s really simple, Wonwoo,” she told him with a laugh. 
“I want revenge.” 
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And that’s how their little team was formed.
It was a two-person job. Emma entrusted Wonwoo with digging up the information she needed about the three men she wanted to bring down, all while she was in charge of putting their plans into motion by heading over to the front lines. 
Gavin was an easy target. Unlike the other two, he’s the only one who pursued professional basketball and for a while, he amassed quite the number of fans and admirers because of his outstanding plays. What’s more was that he managed to wife up a beauty queen who’s already conquered the international stage a few years back. Now with their first baby on the way, one would think that Gavin Kim has a picture perfect life.
But further down the road, talk about how he’s actually a womanizing wife beater started to seep out of the cracks and crevices of the athletic industry. The allegations were serious, but no one really bothered batting an eye. It’s normal. Lots of athletes are like that. We can't do anything about it.
It was easy to get a hold of which gym Gavin frequents to maintain his physique. He preferred working out in public facilities instead of the one provided for his team because it gave him all the freedom to ogle and flirt with other women who just happened to be hitting the gym on days he was on the prowl. 
Wonwoo even added a little footnote in the file he prepared that said likes to engage in post-workout coitus in the shower rooms. Emma rolled her eyes in disgust when she read it, but made sure to keep it in mind.
The day finally came when she’d collect enough evidence to ruin Gavin’s career. Emma hasn’t dropped by the gym in a while—work having sapped her energy too much to let her psych herself back into working out. But she realized she didn’t have to act out too much because the moment she started operating the treadmill right next to Gavin’s, he was already checking her out.
He didn’t seem to recognize who she was, unlike Wonwoo. But then again Gavin was easily the stupidest out of her trio of high school bullies. This man was all brawn and no brains, which was why it was all too easy for Emma to seduce him in the showers of this shoddy gym not thirty minutes since she’d arrived.
It wasn’t the most pleasant experience. The last thing Emma wanted was to have this idiotic man inside of her so she offered to go on her knees and blow him instead—something that Gavin was all too happy to relent to. 
He didn’t even boast a cock of considerable size. It probably wasn’t any longer than her middle finger, and for a split second, she wondered why his beauty queen wife stayed with him despite having a cock that didn’t back up his cocky attitude. It was probably the money.
Emma didn’t waste much time though. Wonwoo visited this gym only a few hours prior to plant a bug somewhere inside the specific shower stall they were currently occupying. She just had to hope she and Gavin were positioned well enough so the camera would get a full view of what they were doing. 
It was the longest twenty minutes of Emma’s life, and she had to go home right away to disinfect her mouth about ten times, but hey. All in the name of vengeance, right?
At around eight in the evening on that same Saturday, her phone lit up with an email notification from Wonwoo. 
From: Wonwoo Jeon  Subject: CLASSIFIED Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well. I retrieved our bug from the gym earlier today and extracted the videos taken before properly disposing of it. Attached to this email is the MP4 file of our evidence against Mr. Gavin Kim. Around the time this message arrives to you, I have simultaneously sent said evidence to Mr. Kim’s managers, sponsors, teammates, other colleagues, and of course, his wife.  The only difference between their emails and yours is that this is a self-destructing message. Once you’ve closed this window, it will be deleted from your inbox without a trace. So if you are interested in watching the video below, best save it to your device of choice for better perusal. If you have any further questions and concerns, I am merely a text message away.  Regards,  Wonwoo Jeon Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department PLEDIS Insurance 
Like hell she was going to watch it.
The moment Emma finished reading through Wonwoo's overly formal email, she quickly exited the window and, true to his word, the message itself had disappeared. Despite being a fairly new player to the game, she had to commend all the precautions Wonwoo was setting to make sure her plans were a success. 
It made her wonder if his previous bosses have also asked him to do shady things under the company’s nose in the past. Whether or not that's true, she was reaping the benefits of his expertise, so she had no room for complaints. 
As long as she had Wonwoo, she’d get to punish everyone who wronged her without fail.
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Gavin’s downfall followed soon after. 
Tabloids were their best friend in that scenario. The thumbnail of the video that Wonwoo spread around like some virus that wouldn’t stop replicating headlined every single paper, talking about how one of the most promising basketball stars of their generation had fallen prey to his own vices.
It was a good thing that not only was Wonwoo careful enough to not leave digital footprints as he sent out those emails, but he also edited the video to keep Emma’s identity a secret. As Gavin’s world started to crumble before his eyes—him being kicked off the starting roster of the team, his wife leaving him behind, and the public execution of his reputation—Emma simply shared a bottle of aged wine from Tuscany with the man who helped her pull off a wonderful performance.
“You’re not too bad,” she mused as she took a small sip, crossing her legs from where she’s seated unceremoniously on the edge of her desk. “You're surprisingly more on-board with this plan than I thought. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were never friends with Gavin in the first place.” 
Wonwoo retained his stoic demeanor, not having touched the glass Emma offered him simply because it was against company regulations to intoxicate himself on the job. “If my boss tells me to ruin someone's life, I'm mandated to do it. I’m just doing what’s written on my job description, ma’am.”
Emma’s lips stretched into a grin as she threw her head back with a laugh. She leaned in closer to Wonwoo, who seemed wholly unfazed by the fact that the gesture granted him an ample view of her cleavage through her blouse. 
“Does your job description cover watching and editing your boss' sex scandal so you can mass send it to hundreds of people?” She giggled before leaning back to take another sip of her drink. “You’re in the green for now, Wonwoo. Keep it up and I might just have a pay raise arranged for you with HR if our next escapade is a success.”
He hummed in understanding. “Who’s next?”
In usual Emma fashion, she didn’t give him a straight answer right away. Instead, she hopped back to the carpeted floor of her office—not even wobbling in those thin heels she’s wearing—before rounding her desk to access her computer. 
“Have you been watching TV lately? Primetime soap operas?” she asked him as she clicked away on her screen. 
Wonwoo shook his head. “They don’t really interest me, ma’am.”
“I figured they wouldn’t. But this might.”
Emma gestured for him to peer at her monitor and Wonwoo wordlessly followed suit, getting up from his seat and standing behind her. Flashed on the screen was an article from a more reputable news outlet that featured two co-stars who played the main couple in a popular network’s newest drama. 
“Ezra Lee and Alaina Park…” Wonwoo muttered under his breath before his eyes flickered to Emma. “You have any leads I can work with?”
His boss chuckled before looking up at him with an expectant smile. “Someone's determined. I never thought I’d get to see someone so eager to do the dirty work for me.”
Wonwoo shrugged. “Miss Emma, I'm not sure if you're aware but desk work gets boring sometimes. You’re right. This is a lot more interesting.”
“Alright, then,” Emma chuckled before retrieving both of their wine glasses and handing Wonwoo's back to him. “Unlike Gavin, I don't have a lot of surface-level leads with Ezra. He’s a celebrity—their reputation needs to be squeaky clean, so it makes sense why I can’t dig up anything about him through regular means. But this should be a piece of cake for you, right?”
Wonwoo stared at the bright red liquor inside the expensive glass, gaze darting to the wicked smile playing on Emma’s lips. If he looked a little closer, he would be able to tell that the shade of her lipstick matches the color of the liquor in her hands. 
He took it from her grasp with a sigh, clinking the edges of their glasses together before downing the entire thing in one fell swoop. The wine was aged well, and had somewhat of a sweet aftertaste, but despite the appealing flavor, Wonwoo reminded himself to never drink on the job ever again. 
“I’ll get back to you once I have the information you need.”
Wonwoo swiftly left Emma’s office after that little victory party. Even with his new sideline of being his boss’s lead henchman, he still had a lot of work to do for PLEDIS Insurance. And that included telling the other employees to quit horsing around in the break room when their designated lunch break ended hours ago.
“Sir Wonwoo,” one of said employees, Soonyoung, snickered before throwing an arm over Wonwoo's shoulders. “You've been hanging out in Miss Emma's office pretty frequently. Is there something going on? You became close real quickly.”
“Yeah” said one Seokmin, who’s still snacking on a wafer despite Wonwoo's scolding. “Boss, we know you're not the fuck-your-way-up kind of guy, but who knows, right? But with your position right now, do you really need it?”
Seungkwan, the last member of their unruly trio, slapped Seokmin’s arm with a scowl. “Hey! Do you really have to say it to his face? Oh, boss, if you make a report about these two, please know I have nothing to do with whatever they're saying.”
Soonyoung snickered. “Are you sure about that? Weren't you the one who first noticed that Sir Wonwoo was stepping inside Miss Emma's office more frequently—”
“Hey! Boss told us to scram, didn't he?! Let's go.”
Seungkwan quickly ushered his two friends out of the break room, scolding them in a hushed tone before they all went back to their respective cubicles. Wonwoo shook his head with a sigh, muttering something about inevitable rumors as he made himself a cup of coffee.
Was that how they perceived Wonwoo’s sudden closeness with the department head? That he was fucking Emma in the solitude of her office? Well, the idea of a boss having illicit relations with their secretary wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s heard about how the head of the Advertising Department gets frisky with his secretary through the corporate grapevine. But just because it was a popular trope among the employees’ strange fantasies, it didn’t mean it applied to himself and Emma as well.
They were strictly professional: he did the dirty work and she paid him in full. That was all there was to it.
(But what people don’t know was that editing Gavin’s scandal wasn’t exactly the walk in the park Emma thought it was.
Despite being one of the most indifferent people in the company, Wonwoo was still a man. Seeing his boss, whose body would be coveted by anyone who dared to want her, in such a compromising position excited an…unexpected physiological reaction out of him.
His resolve was as sturdy as steel, however. Instead of taking care of the obvious problem in his pants as he edited the scandalous video, Wonwoo dealt with it by taking a long, cold shower until all the blood that rushed down south started circulating properly again.
He told himself not to think about it come morning.)
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“A drug den?”
Even Emma was baffled by the news that Wonwoo brought her the following week—a scowl of disbelief permanently etched on her face as she scanned the file her secretary prepared for her. Wonwoo merely stood at her side, waiting for her to finish going through the data he’s gathered. 
And he sure hoped she understood every single word printed on it. He practically risked his life trying to investigate Ezra’s secret business. No wonder it was so hard to dig up any dirt on him—dead men tell no tales after all.
“This is…” Emma swallowed thickly before continuing, “way above my expectations. If he was just getting faded on his own with a private dealer, I'd understand. Lots of celebrities do recreational drugs. But for him to head an entire operation? Where'd he find the time on top of his taping schedules?” 
Wonwoo sighed. “I would’ve been able to investigate further if his men weren't so meticulous. They're fiercely loyal to Ezra. Couldn’t bribe him like we did with Gavin’s gym coach.” 
“And you made sure to keep your identity under lockdown?”
“Positive.”
Emma drummed her fingers across the smooth surface of her work desk—brows furrowed as she stared into nothingness. Though they’ve only been working together for roughly six months at most, Wonwoo knew her well enough to realize she hit a wall.
It made him wonder if this was where she would draw the line. Their success with Gavin gave them both an unexpected high, sure, but Wonwoo recognized that this game they were playing was a dangerous one. The people they were trying to take down had more money and connections than the two of them could ever hope to get their hands on. 
But one thing that he failed to recognize right away about Emma was that she’s always been grossly ambitious. 
“The file you gave me also mentioned na he was hoping to insure his new house in Incheon,” she pointed out. “Care to tell me why you decided to include that?”
“I know you told me not to involve the company in this as much as we can, but I couldn’t think of any other way to penetrate into his circle.” Wonwoo adjusted his necktie, suddenly feeling like he’s being watched by the hawk that was his boss. “I’ve been told that he’s wary of people. Side effects of the cocaine, probably. Though the info broker sounded like he was joking, it’s best to be wary of him. If he can hide behind the protection of his management and his family, we need to play our cards right and protect ourselves, too.”
Emma took a moment to process what her secretary just told her, nodding slowly before closing the folder containing Ezra’s file and locking it inside a hidden drawer beneath her desk. 
“Oh, Wonwoo. If only all men were as intelligent as you are,” she sighed, getting up from her seat before pinching his face. “Good work. Let's go out for drinks later. My treat.”
Wonwoo's face twisted with confusion. “For what? Doing my job?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “For going above and beyond every single time. You think you're only good at doing dirty work? At being my errand boy? You never fall behind your quotas here in the office either, you know. I think that in itself is a cause for celebration.”
Now that she’s reasoned it out, Wonwoo was even more weirded out by this strange turn of events. In the six months that Emma Rodriguez has spent as the head of PLEDIS Insurance’s Finance head, she never failed to uphold that arctic cold façade. She treated both executives and regular employees with the same degree of cut-throat harshness. 
And that’s when Wonwoo realized that she didn’t really treat him the way she treated them.
Huh. Did the Ice Queen have a melting point after all?
Despite his extensive protests, however, Wonwoo let Emma rope him into grabbing dinner and drinks at a food hub several districts away from their office. The fewer people who could recognize them outside, the better. Of course, he pleaded and reminded her several times that she was his boss and she really didn’t have to—
“Hey! Keep drinking!” Emma slurred with a huff, face red from the alcohol as she pushed another pint of beer into Wonwoo's face. “Why aren't you drunk yet, huh, Wonwoo Jeon? Are you God? Maybe that's why you're so good at obtaining information for me. Ah! No! Maybe you're the devil! Right, what we're doing isn't exactly good nor is it legal…”
Wonwoo exhaled long and hard as his boss continued blabbering nonsense across from him at their shared table. One glance at the smartwatch on his wrist told him that it was near midnight and that he should probably bring Emma home before she could make a scene. 
But…maybe they could stay for a few minutes more.
“Miss Emma? Are you sleepy?”
“Hm? Why would I be sleepy? We're drinking, aren't we?” 
“You're half-asleep on the table, so.”
At the prospect of being called out, Emma quickly shot into an upright position—looking around to see if anyone caught her drooling. When she realized she was in the clear, she narrowed her eyes at Wonwoo.
“Not a word about this in the office,” she warned, using one of the finished barbecue sticks on their empty plates to threaten him. “But...yeah. Alcohol makes me sleepy. Drive me home.”
Not even a please. This woman was really shameless even when drunk.
Not a peep of complaint was heard from Wonwoo when he drove Emma all the way to her condo unit in uptown Poblacion. Though he had to practically carry her inside and even help her out of her clothes and into her pajamas (at her request, not his own initiative), he simply told himself this was all part of his job. 
When his boss was safely tucked in bed, he was ready to bid her farewell and head back to his own place to catch up on some sleep. But for someone who was intoxicated beyond belief, Emma was still quite aware of her surroundings. The moment Wonwoo took a step away from her bed, her hand shot out to grab ahold of his wrist, making Wonwoo look back at her with an eyebrow raised.
“Wonwoo,” she murmured, face still smothered in her pillows despite her tight grip. “Can you stay?” 
“There's nowhere for me to sleep,” he chuckled. “I should go.”
“Then sleep next to me.”
The furrow on his brow merely deepened. He’d ask her to repeat what she said, but Wonwoo could recognize that Emma wasn’t really in the headspace to be reasonable right now. So instead of refuting her wish, Wonwoo carefully pried her fingers off his wrist so he could take off his work coat and fold it neatly on top of her vanity table.
This is all part of the job, he told himself.
Wonwoo laid on his boss’ duvet perfectly still. He didn’t want to make the mistake of touching her when he didn’t have explicit permission to do so. He was merely told to sleep next to her after all—nothing else.
But about fifteen minutes after he lied next to her, Emma shifted on her side of the bed—turning to him with a sleepy look in her eyes.
“You know,” she whispered, so softly, he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t as observant as he was. “I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.”
Emma probably won’t remember what she mumbled in her drunken stupor in the morning. But the sadness and honesty that underlined her words sent him back about ten years into the past. To a time when he was a much greater evil than those who directly wronged her.
An apology sizzled across the tip of his tongue—something that’s a decade overdue. But before Wonwoo could hope to let her hear his piece, Emma’s breathing had become even and shallow. 
She was already fast asleep.
He sighed, staring up at the dainty ceiling of her bedroom as he chuckled helplessly to himself.
“That’s why I’m making up for it now.”
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If Gavin’s case was a walk in the park, Ezra’s was an Olympic-level marathon.
Wonwoo didn’t want to dwell on the details anymore. To cut it short: he was going to cross out ‘exposing a notorious drug lord’ off his bucket list without thinking of doing it again ever. While he managed to get out unscathed during his investigation, it just so happened that their final altercation with Ezra ended up putting Wonwoo in the hospital. 
But so what if he fractured a couple of ribs trying to save Emma from being killed by that drug-addicted lunatic? As long as their goal to bring Emma’s enemies down was achieved, he’d gladly sustain any life-threatening injuries.
Which was, admittedly…strange. 
Long before Emma came into the picture as his boss, Wonwoo never would’ve pictured himself risking his neck for the benefit of someone else. Though he had an entire arsenal of skills and knowledge at his disposal, it would take more than just his generous salary to get him to put them to good use.
But with Emma, he found himself utilizing whatever means to help her exact her revenge—on people he once called his friends, much less.
He must be going insane. 
“Wonwoo…?”
Funnily enough, he ended up recalling everything that happened over the past two weeks first before recognizing that he was just regaining consciousness in the intensive care unit. Wonwoo's eyes hurt because of how bright the fluorescent lights were overhead, but for some reason, he didn’t flinch away from her relieved smile when it was a million watts brighter than the hospital’s indoor lighting.
“Good…day, ma’am,” he croaked out awkwardly, belatedly realizing that he didn’t know what time it was. “What day is it? Did someone fix your schedule for today? Did someone go over your meal plans in my stead? Were you—”
His endless stream of questions was interrupted by hacking fit—making Emma scramble for a glass of water on the table by his hospital bed, a concerned look lining her gaze.
“Don't talk too much,” she scolded him as he finished his drink. “You’ve been out for two days, idiot.”
Two days? 
Needless to say, he couldn’t do a thing about it once his boss started fussing over him. She called over doctors she personally knew and handpicked only the most competent of nurses to look after Wonwoo. How Emma could be the judge of that, Wonwoo wasn’t very sure, but he gladly let her take care of him for a change. 
After all, they successfully concluded another chapter in Emma’s little revenge story.
“When are we going to start with Leo?”
Wonwoo brought the matter up about three days after he woke up, right in the middle of eating the stale hospital food served to him for dinner. Emma, who was snacking on some takeout fast food, hummed before tossing a french fry into her mouth.
“You're not even healed yet, and you're thinking about work?” she sighed before pointing a fry in his direction. “I’m still paying you your regular wage even if you're stuck here. You don’t have to worry about making ends meet so much, Wonwoo. You just need to rest—”
“But I don’t want to rest, I want to be useful to you,” he interrupted her gruffly, which was strange of him because he never interrupted his employers. 
For a moment, Wonwoo thought he’d be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing even if he was still recovering. Emma never let other people talk back to her without consequences. But instead, his boss threw her head back with a laugh that bordered on a snort. It’s a look that Wonwoo had seen on her time and time again—a look that he noticed Emma only showed to him. 
Back then, he didn’t really think of her smile all that much. But now…
“You’re being useful enough just by being alive, Jeon,” she reassured him, that grin of hers unwavering. “Enough questions about Leo. I'm not even thinking about him yet because compared to the previous two? He’s a lot easier to track down.”
Wonwoo shot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“Same approach lang with Ezra.” She flashed him a toothy smile. “We’re going to get him to insure some of his properties under PLEDIS. But instead of us going to him, he'll be going to us instead.”
“I…? Sorry, ma’am. I don’t follow.”
Emma stifled a soft laugh behind her palm, unwrapping the burger included in her takeout meal before taking a bite of considerable size. “The Choi Corporation is expanding a chain of shopping malls somewhere in Jeju. Leo Choi personally contacted our CEO and there we have it: another big shot client.”
Another person to drag down to hell.
“Is that good enough for you?” 
Wonwoo was still processing the news as they both finished up their respective meals. He should probably be glad that Emma didn’t decide to put their secret operation on hold just because he was out of commission. But something about how smoothly they’re progressing into the next phase of Emma’s big revenge plan that made him wary of treading any further. 
He felt like he was being paranoid—probably the aftermath of almost crossing to the other side because of what happened with the Ezra incident. Wonwoo couldn’t help but be wary of any and all threats to both his life and Emma’s, and it was for a good reason.
“Okay,” Wonwoo breathed, wincing a little when he felt the spot where his ribs broke ache at how fast he inhaled. “What do you want me to do for now? Investigate? Trace his whereabouts?”
Emma’s smile suddenly turned ice cold. “I want you to rest, Wonwoo. Do I have to keep repeating myself?”
“But—”
“No buts. Boss’ orders—I'm your boss, right?” 
Ah, there’s the Ice Queen they all knew and loved. 
Fine. Maybe he could use a break from all that quote-unquote field work he just did. But one thing about his entire hospitalization still remained unanswered.
“What did you tell HR? About…this?” Wonwoo gestured towards his battered but healing body. “You’ve got the charisma, but I’m pretty sure it’s difficult even for you to go into cahoots with the other employees of PLEDIS. Much more, our human resources head.”
Emma waved away his concerns with a shake of her head. “You're so persistent, aren't you? Don’t think about HR. Or Leo. Or the rest of our plans. Can’t you be a normal salaryman and be happy that you have a break from all the things I make you do?”
“I told you, Miss Emma. I just want to make myself useful.”
“And I told you that you're the least useful in your current state. So give. It. A. Rest,” she threatened, putting emphasis on every syllable. 
But behind her intimidating façade was someone who actually cared for him. The details were still a bit muddled in Wonwoo's head, but he remembered being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. Remembered how Emma never let go of his hand as they made the trip all the way. And how he heard her pray for him to make it out alive despite being a well-known agnostic.
Once their conversation had mellowed down, he laid back against the steady elevation of his bed, watching the scenic city lights glimmer outside the window of his hospital room—just behind the woman who made his life a lot more interesting.
He couldn’t wait to be useful to her again.
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“I hate this. I fucking hate this so much.”
Wonwoo spared his employer a quick glance as she practically glared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. He’d been browsing through a sports car catalog tucked underneath the hotel’s coffee table, but watching Emma have a furious meltdown about her wedding was more worth his time. 
“You're the one who said that there'll more benefits if you accepted the marriage proposal,” her secretary reminded, crossing his legs as he leaned back on the couch he was sitting on. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Of course I was just…gaslighting myself about this entire fucked up situation!” Emma growled as she stomped over to him with a scowl. “Can’t fucking believe my dad agreed to marry me off just like that, too. After all his talk that I needed to love whoever I'm supposed to marry...”
Wonwoo shrugged. “Anyone can be blinded by money—especially if it's from the Chois.”
“Even you?”
It’s a question that sunk into the room with a rhetorical implication. Emma was quick to exchange the earrings her stylist chose for her with something more suited to her taste—a pair that didn’t sparkle all that much but was worth more than six months of Wonwoo's salary. In her reflection on the vanity mirror, he could clearly see the way her red lips parted in concentration as she clipped the earrings in place. 
“No,” Wonwoo responded even if he knew she wasn’t looking for an answer. “I’m more easily blinded by other things, ma’am.”
Emma glanced behind her with a puzzled look, not getting his drift. “Like what?” 
Wonwoo didn’t dare think twice. 
He got up from his once comfortable position on the couch, closing the distance that sat between him and Emma in long, calculated strides. She didn’t seem fazed by his sudden need to walk over, but the moment Wonwoo was behind her, she stiffened when he reached a hand in front of her face. Then, with a firm yet featherlight touch, her secretary wiped off the lipstick that stained past her lip line with his fingers—not once breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. 
“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you, now would it?” He smiled before pulling his hand back. “I need to keep you on your toes sometimes, too, Miss Emma.”
He half-expected her to scoff and brush off his attempt at being smart with her. Emma was a no-nonsense kind of person, and with the wedding happening soon, Wonwoo understood why she’d be more high-strung than usual. 
But instead of acting the way she always did with him, Emma took Wonwoo by surprise when she fisted his silken necktie in her manicured nails, tugging him down so that their eyes were leveled with each other. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to wrestle Wonwoo into complete submission, but this was his boss they were talking about.
There’s a glint in those sharp eyes of hers that had his heart beating off the charts. This wasn’t the gaze of someone entitled the Ice Queen of their office. No, there’s something warm in there—borderline sensual. And before Wonwoo could even hope to figure out what it was, Emma was already closing her eyes and sealing their lips together like some unspoken pact. 
It’s an inconsequential kiss. Wonwoo has made out with both men and women alike—all desperate gasps and lust-fueled passion—but somehow, none of those experiences could hold a candle to the way Emma Rodriguez pecked his lips for a fraction of a second before pulling away. 
“You're getting more and more insufferable,” she muttered, resting her forehead against his. “You were never this cheeky before. What happened?”
You, he wanted to tell her. You happened.
At that point, Wonwoo's brain was merely operating on carnal instinct alone. He lunged forward to capture her lips again, making her gasp in surprise as he snaked a strong arm around her waist. Thank fucking god Emma’s wedding dress had a simple design—no pretentious frills to obstruct his movements. 
Despite the fact that this woman—his boss—was getting married in less than two hours, Wonwoo couldn’t even give a damn. He swiped all the makeup boxes and accessories off the vanity table, propping Emma up on the horizontal surface as he kissed her until she saw stars. 
“Wonwoo,” she sighed against his lips, thighs inching apart as he bunched the long hem of her gown up to her waist. He wondered distantly if Emma was going to ask him to stop—to see reason. But the glazed look in her eyes told him otherwise.
“More.”
Wonwoo wanted nothing more than to give her more. He’d do everything she could ever dream of asking him. Never mind the fact that it was more than a little messed up for him to consider fucking his boss right before she’s married off to the man who tormented her endlessly at sixteen. 
Nobody else mattered—not Leo, not the director, not even Emma’s intricate revenge plot that was years in the making. At that moment, only the two of them existed, only separated by a few layers of clothing before they could finally become one. 
But Wonwoo was abruptly reminded why he always chose reason before ambition long before he met Emma. Dreams and delusions were bound to end when you least expected them to. Reality, on the other hand, would always remind you of life’s harshest truths.
“Miss Emma?” They both could hear the voice of Leo's personal assistant outside the door to the hotel room, preceded by a few short knocks. “It’s time for your prenup shoot. Director Rodriguez is also looking for Sir Wonwoo. Is he in there with you?”
Whatever dream the two of them have fabricated only minutes ago had been erased from existence—all that was left was a bride-to-be with her dress ruffled in all the wrong places, and a pitiful secretary with red lipstick stains adorning his face.
“Yeah, he’s here with me,” Emma yelled over to the doorway, eyes refusing to part from Wonwoo's. “We’ll be down soon. Thanks, Christina.”
“Okay, ma’am. I'll just wait for you in the lobby.”
Wonwoo counted to ten before peeling himself away from Emma, quickly striding towards the bathroom to get some tissues both for himself and his employer. But while he was wiping off the lipstick on the corners of his mouth, Wonwoo immediately noticed the shift in the atmosphere.
Emma was already busy straightening herself out—smoothing down the creases in her gown and retouching her makeup as best as she could without her stylists. Wonwoo wouldn’t have minded the silence, it’s exactly the kind of setting he preferred working in. 
But just when he thought he’d managed to melt the Ice Queen’s heart over the past year, she turned arctic cold all over again. 
“After the wedding, tell my driver to accompany me to Leo's penthouse. Though I despise the idea, we have to go home together to keep up the act for everyone to see.” She gave her orders the same way she used to tell Wonwoo to sort the company’s financial reports—straight to business with little room for playing around. “Other than that, I don't have any more orders. You can rest easy for the day, Wonwoo.”
He felt like he should say something to address what just happened between them five minutes ago. To ask why she was pretending as if they weren’t breathing each other in like all the oxygen on the planet had gone in a flash. But Wonwoo wasn’t some desperate fool that overestimated his place in Emma’s life. 
“Duly noted, ma’am,” he muttered with the same degree of aloofness she’d just given him before tossing the soiled tissues in the trash. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”
Emma didn’t even break face as Wonwoo's footsteps resounded on the carpeted floor. She didn’t even spare him a second glance. But then again…
He was her secretary, and she was his employer. 
That was all there was to it.
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Much to Wonwoo's surprise, Leo's case was closed much sooner than he thought it would be.
Before Emma could even make it to the cathedral, the commotion had already started. Wonwoo had arrived earlier in the venue with Emma’s father, the director of PLEDIS Insurance, and were just about to take their seats among the other principal sponsors when the television screens mounted all over the church suddenly started playing a video.
A video that Wonwoo has already seen before.
He didn’t have to glance at Leo to know that he was sporting the most horrified look he could muster upon seeing one of your many sex scandals having an impromptu screening at the cathedral. Collective gasps and disgusted remarks were heard in a chorus of murmurs that reached all the way up to the high ceilings. 
Wonwoo could hear Leo's assistant, Christina—who turned out to be part of the sex parties her boss secretly indulged in—barking orders for the church staff to cut the feed. But it was too late. Those who needed to see the truth have already gotten their fill.
Recognizing that his daughter couldn’t possibly be wed to a man with a reputation that’s been tarnished in a church, of all places, Director Rodriguez ordered Wonwoo to contact the bridal car driver and tell him to send Emma straight home instead. It’s a job that Wonwoo got done fairly quickly, and despite the numerous text messages that Emma sent him demanding answers about what happened, he didn’t respond to any of them right away. 
After a few hours of digging around, Wonwoo eventually found out that one of Leo's cousins was behind the public exposé. Apparently, said cousin was able to obtain the same footage that Emma acquired and was able to sabotage Leo's attempt at seizing their family riches before Emma could even put her plans into motion. 
Well, at least someone else already did the dirty work for them.
As usual, Wonwoo collated all the information he’s gathered in a concise email. This was how he kept Emma up to speed about their progress—through self-destructing emails. He informed her about the involvement of Leo's cousin and how the trash had taken itself out, ensuring that Leo Choi had fallen from the false pedestal he’s clung onto for years.  
Their behind-the-scenes mission has been fulfilled.
While he didn’t expect Emma to respond enthusiastically, receiving radio silence in return wasn’t something Wonwoo had anticipated either. But he opted not to read into it much. She must’ve been royally pissed that Leo's demise wasn’t brought about by her own hand, and Wonwoo respected that.
The following Monday after the canceled wedding, however, he ended up finding out the reason behind her silence. 
“Boss,” sobbed Seokmin when Wonwoo timed in at the office. “Please don't leave!”
Immediately backing him up was Soonyoung, who didn’t hesitate to hug Wonwoo, even giving him a few pats on the shoulder as if they were old drinking buddies. “It's okay, Sir Wonwoo. You've been here long enough. Maybe it's about time you found your path elsewhere.”
…Huh?
“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo voiced out his confusion. “You’re speaking like I got fired.”
As if on cue, the third member of their trio walked in on the conversation as he sipped on his usual iced americano. Seungkwan stared at Wonwoo with a puzzled expression before saying:
“But weren't you fired, sir? Miss Emma announced it this morning, but I think she left right away after, too.”
Not privy to the way the pieces started to click in his head, Seokmin and Soonyoung kept consoling Wonwoo as he made his way to his (old) cubicle. Emma had been one step ahead too—someone already having packed away most of his belongings in storage boxes. Not to mention the notice of contract termination sitting on his desk. Effective immediately, it says.
“I really don't get it though” Seungkwan droned behind him. “You? The best secretary in the city? Fired just like that?”
Seokmin nodded. “I don't understand it either. You two were business-as-usual after the wedding. Miss Emma must've been so pissed that she didn't get married that she laid off the boss here.”
“True,” Soonyoung agreed with a snicker. “Boss, maybe Miss Emma's just being unreasonable. I bet she'll be begging for you to come back in a few days' time.”
Yeah. That’s what the situation would seem like to an outsider. But Wonwoo knew perfectly well that Emma wasn’t bluffing about this. She fired him for a reason that’s been stewing for more than a decade. Even if Gavin, Ezra, and Leo have had their taste of justice, Emma’s revenge plot wasn’t finished like Wonwoo thought it was.
Because Wonwoo was one of her targets all along, too.
I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.
“Where is she?” 
Seungkwan perked up. “Uh, maybe she went home? She told us something about feeling a bit under the weather?”
Seokmin nodded. “She's probably in her penthouse or something. If i were you, I'd start making it up to her.”
“Hey, you're talking like they're actually dating,” Soonyoung scolded with a laugh.
Not even bothering to thank them, Wonwoo turned on his heel and made a beeline for the office entrance—dead set on doing exactly what Seokmin jokingly suggested.
This is why I'm making it up to you, he mused with an exasperated air as he buckled up in his car. 
Can’t you just let me in?
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Emma spent her first Monday after the entire wedding disaster with Leo holed up in her unit—stuffing herself full of ice cream. The only reason she bothered going to the office today was to formally announce that her secretary Wonwoo Jeon was fired—just like she’d been planning since the moment she met him again as her secretary after all these goddamn years.
Her high school bullies have been put in their place. Her fifteen-year revenge plot was finally over.
But why did she feel so fucking depressed about it?
She sighed pitifully when she realized she’d already emptied her tub of double dutch ice cream, finally deigning to get up from the couch to deposit it in the kitchen for later disposal. But just when she was about to continue moping in her living room, the doorbell to her unit buzzed from the entrance, making her glance that way curiously.
It could be her next-door neighbor. A kind, elderly woman who lived with her daughter. She borrowed Emma’s rosemary spices yesterday—something that she barely used because she often opted to go for food deliveries instead of whipping up her own meals. 
With that reasoning in mind, she didn’t bother checking who was at the door through the peephole. She simply undid the locks before opening the door—only to come face-to-face with—
“Hey,” Wonwoo sighed as he jammed his foot between the door and the doorframe. “Ma’am, please talk to me first. Did you think I wouldn't catch onto what you were trying to do?”
“Why do I have to explain myself to you? You’re fired, right?” Emma growled as she pushed the door with her back, but sadly, Wonwoo easily overpowered her. At least he was decent enough to not let himself in—he simply lingered out in the hallway with a placid look on his face. “What?”
“Emma,” her ex-secretary addressed her for the first time without any formalities. “If you fired me as vengeance for not helping you all those years ago, I get it. I deserve it, even. But after what happened sa hotel…
“You can’t convince me there’s nothing between us anymore.”
Her breath hitched, face growing warm at the reminder of that intimate moment they shared hours before she was supposed to get married. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could still feel Wonwoo's mouth on hers. But that wasn’t a thought that was healthy to entertain at the moment.
“What are you saying? That was all part of the plan, you know?” She bluffed with a mirthless laugh, fully turning to face him as she crossed her arms. “Make you smitten enough with me to let your guard down. Look, you didn't expect me to fire you, did you?”
“No, but you can’t fool me, Emma,” Wonwoo chuckled with a self-satisfied smirk. “You wanted me too—that was real. If I’m mistaken, then make me leave. Call security on me. If I’m the nuisance you so desperately want me to be, then get rid of me here and now.”
The silence was thick between them. Emma was practically shaking with frustration as Wonwoo stared down at her with that overconfident look on his face. She wanted nothing but to punch him, hit him, slap him—
Kiss him.
Maybe Wonwoo was right. Maybe Emma did want him more than she led herself to believe. 
Because why the hell did she fist the front of Wonwoo's work shirt before pulling him inside her penthouse? Why did she slam him against the door, earning a sexy groan from him as she crushed their lips together?
Was this a healthy way to deal with your current predicament? No—definitely not. But it felt too fucking good to pass up on.
Wonwoo, however, was all too quick to regain control—hooking one of Emma’s thighs around his waist as she gasped into his mouth. She could practically feel him smirk against her lips, and though she’s loath to admit, it only made her want him even more.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he chuckled before peppering her neck with love bites. “You might need to kill me first before I stop pursuing you.”
Emma spared him a breathless laugh that quickly melted into a moan when Wonwoo's hand found itself inside her oversized sleep shirt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were obsessed with me, Jeon.”
His fingers were warm against her skin, and Emma couldn’t help the full-on shudder that racked her body when Wonwoo grazed her bare nipples. The smile on his face was wicked—dangerous, even. 
“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, his breath fanning against her flushed face.
“What would you do if I was obsessed with you, Ma’am?”
Emma was well aware that Wonwoo knew the answer to his own question. It was obvious in the way he quickly picked her up from the floor, fully wrapping both her legs around his waist as he carried her towards her bedroom. But despite the carnal urgency in his grip, Wonwoo was awfully gentle as he laid her down on the mattress.
“Last chance to kick me out,” he murmured against her ear as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “You could exact your revenge on me even better, ‘no? I’m giving you the leeway to frame me for forced entry…among other things.”
God. She knew Wonwoo was a little crazy when he accepted Emma’s orders to help her make his old best friends suffer. But the way he looked at her with such crazed desire further confirmed her suspicions.
And she didn’t want her men any other way.
“Fuck me, Wonwoo,” she told him clearly before stripping her own clothes and laying herself bare for him to feast on—eyes lidded, desiring him just as much as he did her. “That’s an order.”
He shook his head with a chuckle, and Emma had to force herself not to drool over his perfectly built torso. If she had more patience, she would’ve taken her time worshiping every inch of Wonwoo's body, but he’d already set a fire in the pit of her stomach. One that she fully expected him to deal with sooner than later.
“So wet for me,” he observed with a lopsided smirk, pressing their foreheads together as he lathered his fingers with her slick. “Have you always wanted me this way? Do you touch yourself to the thought of me, Miss Emma?”
Yes. Fuck, yes. 
“That’s none of your business, Jeon,” Emma stubbornly insisted, keeping herself from moaning when his lips descended onto one of her hardened nipples. 
Wonwoo made good on the opportunity, using the fingers he’d used to feel up her slick cunt to rub her essence across the other bud he wasn’t suckling on. The effect was near immediate—Emma throwing her head back with a pretty little whimper as Wonwoo started to massage her breasts. 
Fuck. He’d always dreamed of getting to smother his face between them.
“Wonwoo,” she gasped out loud, hips bucking desperately when he bit down on her sensitive flesh. “F-Fuck me. Now.” 
“Demanding.” He pulled away from her sensitive nipples with a pop, staring up at her with a lustful gaze. “You enjoy ordering me around too much, you know?”
“You enjoy being ordered around, too,” Emma pointed out with a scoff, trying her best not to moan too loudly when Wonwoo's fingers started to toy with her leaking cunt again. “Just—I need you. Please.”
Ah, he never thought the day would come when he’d hear Emma Rodriguez begging for his cock.
“Okay, Ice Queen,” he relented with a playful laugh, kicking his underwear and trousers off as he pumped his already hard length. “Since you're so eager for me to fuck you, I’m not going to prep you anymore. You better not cry when my cock splits you open, okay?”
Hearing him talk so lewdly to her made her pussy gush with excitement. What’s more was that, not only was her secretary blessed with a face and body that gods would covet, but his cock was something she was afraid she’d keep looking for even when he was done with her.
He was awfully careful when he first pushed inside of her, sharp eyes riveted on her face as it twisted with both pain and pleasure alike. His size was something that one needed getting used to, and he wasn’t about to make his first time with Emma uncomfortable for her.
No, he wanted her to keep thinking about him even after they’ve had their fill of each other.
“Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he rasped against her neck, licking a long stripe along the column of her throat to make her shiver. “Too bad you already fired me. I always wondered what it would feel like to bend you over and fuck you in your office.” 
He could feel her pussy squeeze his cock even tighter at the shameless image she put in her head, making Wonwoo smirk with pride as he started to move. Emma mewled his name, grabbing his face as he chased his lips. He was all too willing to give her what she wanted, meeting her with an open-mouthed kiss as their tongues clashed together in time with his thrusts.
“W-Wonwoo,” she moaned into his mouth, hips eagerly meeting his. “Deeper. Fuck me deeper.”
And fuck her deeper, he did—Emma’s got him wrapped around her pretty manicured fingers, after all. 
Wonwoo was relentless with the way he pounded her into the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing much too loudly in his ears. But he didn’t fucking care. The feel of Emma’s velvet pussy walls pulsing around his cock sent his mind into a frenzy—fucking her until the bedframe creaked, until Emma was begging him to give her more, more, more—
All of a sudden, she gasped, “Coming, coming—!” 
If being inside her was life-changing, feeling her cum around his cock sent Wonwoo straight to heaven. Her cunt spasmed deliciously as Wonwoo helped her ride out her high—lips locked together as they breathed each other in. 
“Cum inside me,” she murmured deliriously into his mouth, practically rubbing her breasts—sensitive and littered with all the marks Wonwoo left on them—against his toned chest. “Make me yours, Jeon.”
He didn’t have to be told twice.
“God, I love you,” he sighed a little mindlessly, and those carelessly uttered words made Emma’s eyes widen with surprise before losing herself to the feeling of delirium. 
Wonwoo spilled his load inside her quivering cunt with a long-winded moan, feeling like he’d been shot through the head and was experiencing a level of euphoria that bordered on illegal. Emma moaned at the feel of his warm cum filling her to the brim, bringing him down for another sloppy kiss as the heat of the moment started to dissipate in the quiet atmosphere of their bedroom.
As their breaths started to settle, Emma was the first to glance at him—to meet his eyes. Wonwoo couldn’t find any trace of the arctic cold Ice Queen that practically told him to scram the other day at the hotel.
No, it was just Emma. 
His Emma.
“Can I still take back my verdict?” she muttered softly, inching closer to bury her face in his chest. Wonwoo instinctively pulled her in for a tender embrace, kissing the crown of her head with a smile.
“You mean the contract termination?” Wonwoo chuckled. “Take it up to HR, Miss Emma. I’m just a lowly secretary.”
All of a sudden, Emma rolled over so that she was seated upright on the bed. Wonwoo had to keep himself from groaning at the sight of her—hair disheveled and body sporting all his marks. Seeing her freshly fucked by him was doing things to his libido. 
“You’re not just my secretary, Wonwoo,” she sighed, twiddling with her fingers awkwardly. “I…I wasn’t going to fire you anymore. I got used to your company. I…
“I fell in love with you.” 
The words floated between them like a cloud that couldn’t easily be swept up by the wind. Wonwoo offered her a comforting smile before pulling her into a firm kiss.
“Yet you fired me anyway,” he pointed out with a laugh. “Why? You couldn’t deal with the fact that you fell in love with one of your high school bullies?”
That earned him a punch in the shoulder. “You’re not one of them. You’re different.”
“And you’re in love with me too, no? You said it yourself. Since when?”
Shaking his head, Wonwoo then pressed a soft, featherlight kiss on her nose—one that had Emma’s heart fluttering like she was a schoolgirl.
Gosh, this man. He’s fifteen years too late.
“Maybe I’ve always been a little in love with you. Who knows?” Wonwoo spared her a Cheshire cat smile. “There’s more where that came from though.”
Emma punched him in the chest this time—a bit too close to the spot where he broke a few ribs months prior. But he didn’t care.
She could send him to hell and back and he’d do it for her in a heartbeat.
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From: Wonwoo Jeon 
Subject: NOT-SO CLASSIFIED
Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well.
I heard that you dealt with quite a stressful client today. I’m very sorry that I wasn’t here to help you with the matter as I was given tasks to do elsewhere. In order to make up for this lapse on my part, I am cordially inviting you to dinner at 7PM tonight after work. 
Rest assured, the expenses shall be shouldered by me and your only job is to sit and look gorgeous as I wine and dine you for the evening. Sincerely hoping for your most favorable response.
Regards, 
Wonwoo Jeon
Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department
PLEDIS Insurance 
Your boyfriend :)
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end notes: this wasnt thoroughly proofread so if you spot some strange errors (aka sentences in a different language bc this fic was partly in filipino) here and there, pretend you didn't see em! as always, ur feedback means everything to me so scream in the tags or my ask as much as you want ^__^
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bunnysbrainrot · 6 months
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He Wants to Watch
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Kinktober Prompt: Doggy Style
Relationship: Sam Winchester x f!Reader, Dean
Content: Explicit sexual scenes, rough sex, dirty talk, creampie, unprotected sex, (lowkey) breeding kink, degrading, voyeurism/exhibitionism, Sam is a little greedy
Summary: It's time for round two, and the younger Winchester hasn't had his fill. Dean is generous enough to let Sammy have a turn, but not without watching exactly how his brother pleases his girl.
** Guessing Game is part 1 - For full context, and more smut, go ahead and read it! I apologize that this is shorter than usual, I’m working on some bigger pieces, and transferring everything to AO3!
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Thirty minutes have passed since you collapsed into Dean's mattress, totally sated and limp from pleasure. The two brothers lay on either side of your lax form, caressing your skin with peppered kisses along the way.
Sam locks eyes with his brother, a devilishly curious look glinting within them. Dean's look darkens - a silent agreement.
"How you feeling, sweetheart?" asks Dean, tucking loose hairs away from your cheeks. During the last round, you'd built up a decent sweat that stuck your hair around your temples.
You shift your legs, assessing your soreness. To your surprise, it's not as intense as you'd thought it would be - and paired with the careful massage from the brothers, your recovery time was hurried.
"I'm wonderful," you sigh. Movement comes from behind and a thick warmth presses against your ass.
Sam snakes his arms around your middle and tugs you toward him, away from Dean. There isn't a hint of jealousy on your boyfriend's features. In fact, it seems like he could actually be enjoying this. Sam grips gently at your jaw and cranes your head to face him. That same overwhelming darkness still pools in his eyes; it was a type of shadow that could melt your insides before they're ravaged again.
The blackness of Sam's eyes is not an invitation, or a flirtation. No..
It’s a warning.
Not a word is said as Sam hitches your leg up. You're splayed wide on your side, now with your messy pussy in full view for the brothers. Dean's gaze settles on your displayed cunt, and its proximity to Sam's cock, throbbing and leaking from your past round.
Minutes before, Sam demanded to have you to himself, his words less of a request than a warning. Watching his brother fuck you thoroughly, all the while flaunting what he couldn't have, sent a rush of jealousy through Sam. His cock ached for your dripping cunt - longing to bury itself inside of your walls. It was his right to do so, just as much as his brother.
Sam grips the base of his cock and guides it between your thighs, lining his shaft between your slick folds. He gives a few steady thrusts to lead the head of his cock across your clit, still sensitive from earlier. You whine, looking to Dean.
Darkened eyes greet you. Dean wears a wide, pleased smile on his face, as if watching his brother fuck his own girlfriend could be a source of pride.
"Sammy wants his turn."
A moan escapes you when Sam’s cock brushes against your clit. He slides through your slick folds with a sharp gasp - your warmth kisses the sensitive head, tensing his back from the brush of pleasure. You look to Dean with a confused expression, but your furrowed brows relax when Sam’s cock fixes at your wet hole, eager for his own opportunity.
Your hips relax at his touch and allow Sam to ease his way inside. Sam enters you with a hiss through his teeth. Warmth envelops his cock with every inch, stretching you slowly.
You cry out, whipping your head to look at Sam as he pushes himself inside. His face is contorted in ecstasy, and he lets out a low moan when you clench down onto his length. It’s Dean’s voice that helps encourage you to take more of his brother.
“There you go, baby, just relax. Let Sammy take care of you,” he murmurs, lowering his hand to his groin, taking hold of his own length, pumping himself slowly.
Sam, to his credit, is a bit more endowed than your boyfriend, and he feels absolutely glorious. He has more length to stretch you out, as opposed to Dean’s gift of girth. Regardless, by the time he’s bottomed out, you’re satisfyingly full, mewling into the sheets. He needs to move. You need to feel him.
You buck your hips onto his cock, sinking him into your fluttering walls. A low groan escapes from his chest, thrumming against your back.
“Fuuuck, she’s tight,” he moans, throwing his head against your shoulder.
Dean hums in agreement, still stroking himself next to you. His eyes rove over your form - shaking, moaning, and clenching around Sam’s dick.
After a moment, your slick coats Sam’s length enough to let him in fully, bottoming out in your pussy with a soft groan.
You steady your breathing. You can feel how nicely your pussy is stretching to his size - he’s in your stomach, your lungs, everywhere. He’s far bigger than how he felt down your throat. Apparently your mouth can accommodate him perfectly, but your tight cunt is another matter.
He moves, ever so slightly, dragging his heavy cock through your tight walls to the tip. Sam plunges in with earnest. You cry out at the deeper strike.
Sam’s hand whips around your front to your throat, placing a finger on either side of your windpipe, squeezing down. Dullness throbs through your head as you struggle for a proper breath. His hand eases it’s grip, and the blood rushes heavily back through your head, gifting you a dull ache in your temples, and a thundering rush of adrenaline.
“S-Sam, faster, please,” you whisper. He groans in response, snapping his hips into yours.
The pace becomes relentless. Sam takes no time easing you into it like his brother does - he takes your request and sprints ahead with it, delivering blow after blow to your ravaged pussy.
Dean watches his brother’s cock work itself inside of your entrance, glossy when it leaves with your slick.
“Rougher, Sam.”
Dean’s command shudders through him, and Sam reaches for your waist, shoving you onto your stomach. From this angle surely he can strike deeper. Harder.
With a grunt, Sam hauls your hips upward, slipping from your pussy and giving you a cold kiss of the air. A whimper escapes you, pleading with him to return his heat.
You squirm to brace yourself on your elbows. A warmth prods at your stretched hole - Sam’s cock teases your needy pussy with the thick head of his length. The silence in the room is not one of awkwardness; instead, it happens to add a new erotic element of being watched. Observed by Dean.
Craning your head you can see Dean’s lazy smile as he fucks his hand. His eyes are glued to your expressions, waiting anxiously for it to warp as Sam enters you again.
He does so in one swift thrust. You’re thrust into the sheets again, falling limp into the mattress with the overwhelming pleasure.
Sam’s name slurs around your tongue. Whether it was in protest or pleading, you couldn’t tell. The force of his snapping hips set your nerves on high alert, every inch of you surges as he moves. Your name tumbles past his lips, drawn out like a song. His voice has your back arching - with the deep rumble of the utterance, like a prayer and curse all in one.
His hips sharply snap against your ass. All cohesive thought vanishes as his cock pounds against your cervix, sending a full throb through your cunt. If you weren’t sore with Dean from before, surely you’d have trouble moving now.
“Letting me use you right after my brother,” Sam growls, “you’re such a dirty slut.”
The abrasive words ignite you, leaving you to moan softly into the blanket.
“And I’d bet you want my cum, too, huh?” his voice is laced with venom, as filthy as your body feels, “I saw how badly you wanted Dean’s, I could tell you wanted more. Just a dumb cumslut, aren’t you?”
You manage a nod. Sam’s fingers card through your hair and gain purchase, jerking your head back, angling you to look at him. He braces himself into a kneel and crouches over you, angling himself to thrust deeper, crashing his cock into your sweet spot.
Sam’s voice brushes over your ear amidst the wet slaps of his balls hitting your drenched cunt. Each strike lands on your swollen clit, with small spurts of pleasure following behind.
“Dean,” he begins. Sam tilts his head to his brother, now more fervently pleasuring himself. His strokes are rougher with each passing second. Darkness blows out Sam’s eyes as he asks, “Can I finish inside of her?”
Dean’s brows twitch with annoyance, but his expression shifts. He gives a simple nod.
Go ahead.
“Oh, fuck, yes,” he groans. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll give you plenty.”
You can feel Sam’s smile against your ear before me takes the lobe between his teeth. He talks lowly to drive himself closer. While his brother may take his time to please you, it’s not Sam’s job to prioritize that. This is his once chance, and he’s not patient under the pressure.
“Pretty little cum dumpster,” his words strain, “Two brothers in the same night - fucking filthy. You’re one depraved bitch.”
The words strain the tightness welling in your abdomen. You’re about the snap, but based on Sam’s faltering thrusts, he may beat you to it.
“Please-“ you choke.
“Quiet,” he orders, “you take what I give you, when I give it to you.”
Having no control in it doesn’t upset you in the slightest. After all, you were the girl turned whore when you decided to fuck your boyfriends brother.
His jutting hips lose their rhythm as his orgasm approaches. Sam hisses at the tension in his abdomen before his release spills into your abused cunt, coating your walls with white.
“Shiiit,” he exhales. Sam unsheathes from your used hole, staring pridefully at his cum leaking from your pulsing pussy. It flows downward, covering your gleaming folds and stiff clit in a white sheer. Underneath him, you whine into the bed, clenching your cunt onto nothing, keeping his seed inside.
You pry your eyes open to look for Dean. You find him with his hips slacked and cock leaking into his hand. His own cum stains his stomach in a white gloss. He flutters his eyes closed, completely sated.
Sam helps ease your hips back down onto the bed; he steps away after muttering something about ‘cleaning up’. A moment later he returns with a lukewarm washcloth, tending to your messiest areas, and then working on himself.
He lounges on the bed to your side. You pant softly to come down from the high. Sam’s cum still seeps between your slick folds, reminding you of the filthy deed you two did.
Perhaps out of respect for Dean, Sam doesn’t kiss you afterward. His comfort to you is to stroke a hand through your hair idly as Dean recovers. Your boyfriend grumbles your name before reaching for you.
You give him a once-over, seeing as he hasn’t cleaned up his own ‘aftermath’. You arch an eyebrow at him.
“Clean yourself up, and then we’ll talk.”
You hear Sam’s breathy laugh from behind. Dean rolls his eyes and reaches for the discarded washcloth, doing as you requested.
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Hi y’all, I hope you enjoyed! If you did, it would be a huge support if you reblog! Happy Kinktober!
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awrkive · 7 months
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[DRABBLE] COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK.
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you were used to jungkook making the first move every single time but this particular night, you couldn't help but change things up a little bit.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (minors dni pls)
WORD COUNT 4.1k (this is def not a drabble anymore but its like 70% smut anyway saur 🤷🏼‍♀️)
WARNINGS/MISC jk in grey tracksuit 😢 oc is not a procrastinator everybody booed. kinda domestic vibes everyone wants to have what they have including ms delusional me !! this is my literally me fic kinda (this is literally just oc thirsting over jungkook OEBDIDHSJEB) also imagine 3D jungkook guys.... 🙏🏼 smut warnings: oral s*x (m&f receiving, 69 position), penetrative s*x, multiple positions, overst*mulation, creampies, unprotected s*x (dont fls 🙏🏼)
NOTES heyyy so i reread cnbl last night and scrolled thru unanswered messages on my inbox and found these 2 (amongst many IEBDIDHSHD) drabble reqs for cnbl and decided to write it bcs i love and miss them!! unfortunately i lost my ao3 password and i have nowhere to post this so whatever im gonna start posting here again LMFAOOOO. anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this 💗 this is most esp dedicated to the second anon i hate college as well i hope this drabble brings you joy ☺️
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‼️CN&BL FULL FIC CAN BE READ HERE
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You missed who you were thirty minutes ago.
Before Jungkook arrived, you were extremely focused on the essay you've been stalling to get done since last week.
You were set on finishing the paper tonight, determined to submit it a day prior to the deadline – which is two days from now. You've never been a procrastinator and you wouldn't dare start now. But ever since Jungkook called, arriving a little over five minutes after your conversation on the phone and entering your dorm room, you have never been the same. Gone was your will to finish your essay; it yeeted out the window the moment he came in.
It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, per se. He wasn't pestering you or doing anything to distract you from doing whatever it was you were doing. During the phone call, Jungkook told you he just wanted to hang around and you were in on it. "As long as I finish this essay without you doing anything funny" – that, was what you said. Joking, a little pointed, when he came barging in your door, socks on and hair still slightly wet from the shower he most probably had at his own apartment.
When you said those words, the goof just wiggled his brows, smirking with a look of mischief written all over his face, and then kissed you in such an unnecessarily passionate way that had you internally keening when he broke away. That gave you an initial idea that he would, indeed, do some funny business. If you were honest to yourself, you wouldn't have really minded that at all.
That was thirty minutes ago. Jungkook surprisingly hasn't tried to touch you at all for the past thirty minutes. In the present, he is just sprawled on your bed watching something on your stupid iPad, airpods plugged in both ears, letting you work in peace on your laptop.
Thirty minutes ago, that would've been fine. Because ultimately, you could focus on your essay and finish it then pass it way before the deadline but no, your problem right this moment does not lie on phonology, it lies on why does Jungkook have to lean his back on the headboard, thick eyebrows meeting each other every now and then as he watched his movies, and put that white t-shirt and grey sweatpants on himself?
You've been having an internal battle with yourself trying to fight the urge to look over your shoulders for him every three damn minutes, groaning quietly as you thought about how Jungkook looked so ridiculously hot doing the bare minimum. Literally nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. And he was making you feel weird in your belly!
Wait. Is it your period? It ended two weeks ago, though, so that is definitely not that. Maybe you are ovulating? You'd have to check your flow app.
Absent-mindedly, you let out the begrudging moan you've been trying to hide.
"God."
As if alarmed, Jungkook suddenly shoots up and speaks after what felt like centuries.
"You okay? Am I bothering you here?" He said, voice dripping with honey and face full of concern. You got even hornier.
Oh my god. You wanted to cry.
You send him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine. And uh, no. You're good."
Jungkook doesn't pry further and goes back to his binge. Meanwhile, you force yourself to think of something.
Another long five minutes later, and you are still halfway done with your essay. The unfinished document only seems to taunt you. So, you let out another sigh, quite quiet this time so you don't make Jungkook think he was being an inconvenience. You made up your mind and just decided to give in to your urges.
You shut your laptop down instead of pressing sleep as you are sure there is no way you can do any more work tonight.
Standing up from your seat, you approach Jungkook on your bed.
He looks up at you the moment you hovered over him, taking his eyes off the iPad. When the mattress dips from your weight, Jungkook's lips stretch into a cute smile.
Your horniness dissipates a little over his adorable face.
"Done?" He asks, lifting a hand over your face to tuck a strand of hair away that you didn't even notice. You shake your head. Jungkook leans down to kiss your cheek. "So, tired?"
You scrunch your nose. "Kinda."
He kisses your mouth when a pout forms there.
"Eaten anything yet?" Jungkook scoots over to the side to make room on the bed for you. You fit yourself in the space, albeit tight (this was a dorm room, alright), and Jungkook is quick to slide his arm under your neck while he still holds the iPad on the other.
"Just reheated some leftover pasta from last night." You cringe over your last meal. It didn't taste good at all but you were way too hungry and delivery took forever to your dorm.
Jungkook seems to know that that pasta was shit, but he doesn't comment on that. Just hums and kisses the side of your head.
Ugh.
"Wanna order something in? Thai?" He suggests, looking at you.
But right now, eating Thai or whatever is the last thing on your mind. Though you would like to eat something else.
You tell him so. Except the last part, of course. Please. You have decorum.
"Uhm, no. I think I'll pass on that. Unless you haven't eaten." you say, playfully pointing a finger to his chest.
"Nah, Taehyung cooked dinner. I'm pretty full." Jungkook says, chuckling.
You had a smart remark on your tongue, something along the lines of, "Then why'd you offer to eat if you already have, weirdo" but to be honest with yourself, you already knew why. Jungkook liked seeing you eat. Dude practically buys most of your meals, now that you think about it.
But your still horny-adled brain went to go and tell your hand to search for his bare stomach under his shirt. And so it did. Forget about having decorum, shame is out the door when you press your palm to the flat surface of his stomach.
"Doesn't feel full at all." You commented, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. You hate them right now. But you would also really, really, like to see them.
Jungkook only chuckles at that. Before he can say anything, you ask him, "Hey, quick question."
"Hm?"
"Can I suck your dick?"
"Huh?" Jungkook, ever the man he is, put the iPad away for the first time since he's been here. Confused, but still, you could not have mistaken the look of pure interest in his face the moment you asked him that.
"I want to suck your dick, if you let me." You say, clearing yourself up. You are putting on a brave face, but internally, you are screaming.
So what if this thing between you has been happening for like… ten months now, almost a year? Jungkook was usually the one to always initiate sex and blowjobs were almost a rare occurrence in your sex life because you told him it hurt your knees but the real reason was because you didn't think you were very good at it. Jungkook never asks for it either, and sometimes you feel bad for only reciprocating handjobs during oral sex quickies but! He never says anything about it so maybe that was fine? Anyway, it's not like this is gonna be your first time sucking him. It's just the first time you initiated with your own words.
"Oh, you're serious?" Jungkook scoots over to his side and lays sideways to prop himself up. "Really?" He has an excited smile on, and you know that because of the way his eyes crinkle.
"Don't make me repeat it." You say pointedly, pushing him a little bit. Jungkook doesn't even budge at the slight attack, only holds your hands in his.
"No, I just… I thought you said no fooling around tonight." He says.
You shrug. "Yeah, well."
You don't expect him to tug you closer to him using his hold on you, and you were thankful you managed to suppress a loud squeal when he laid on his back and caught your whole body on top of his.
"I guess you can't resist my charm, after all." Jungkook says, grabbing a handful of your ass.
"Jungkook, please, you're scaring my lady boner off." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on top of him to get more comfortable.
"Take care of my gentleman boner then, baby." He counters and just because of that you avoid the kiss he was about to give you.
"Don't ever say gentleman boner ever again." You pinch his nipple and he let out a laugh at your petty retort. You knew he was sensitive there. But even then, you were starting to feel the growing need concealed under his sweats, and you were set on giving him the blowjob of his life tonight for some reason.
"I have a suggestion to make," Jungkook says suddenly, stopping you from crawling down to his body. You arch your brow at him, he continues, "I don't think we've ever tried sixty-nine, yet, haven't we? Because I also really want to eat you out right now."
"Oh, well, yeah…" you nod. You find yourself heating up at the way he casually tells you the last part.
"So…?"
You haven't really tried that either, and not just with him, but also with your other sex partners that only really summed up to less than four people, and that's including Jungkook. Anyway, the sixty-nine position sounded interesting.
"Okay, sure." You shrug.
"Fuck, you're the best."
This time, you give in to the kiss he gives you and pretty much after that it turns into a heavy make-out session with Jungkook fondling your boobs underneath your overused highschool PE shirt while you ground down against his erection that only kept growing harder as seconds passed.
You are panting when you break away, a string of saliva in between your lips, breathing for some air. Jungkook kisses his way down your neck, suckling on your skin and soothing it with his tongue.
"Take your shirt off," you say, already impatiently tugging at the hem of his clothing.
Without a word, Jungkook frees himself from the fabric. "You too, and your panties. Please."
You chuckle at the "please" but nonetheless straddle him to take your shirt off. Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes, massaging the bare skin of your waist as you wriggle your hair out of the neckline. He grips your waist as you lift your bum off his stomach, pulling your panties and shorts down in one go one leg to another.
"Shit," Jungkook hissed at the sight of your glistening pussy that has gotten wet overtime, hands roaming all over your body like he doesn't really know where to touch. Always fascinated and in awe with what you show him, always so eager, so touchy. And you always love his undivided attention. Makes you feel like a princess for some reason. Doesn't help that he calls you that sometimes, too.
"Oh, fuuck," he groaned when you sat on his stomach. You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, too, feeling his hot skin and your cold pussy touching together. "Angel, fuck, come here, let me kiss you."
You lean down to kiss him and he quickly reciprocates, his tongue entering your parted mouth, swirling and licking inside, taking your breath away. You could feel yourself smearing your wet mess on his abs but you couldn't really care less, not when Jungkook looked like he couldn't, too, squeezing every inch of you he could get his hands on. And they were everywhere, alright. Your breasts, your waist, hips, ass, his thumb on the inside of your thighs, all the while kissing you like he was hungry for it.
Jungkook jostles you a little when he lifts himself up a little to slide down the grey sweatpants you have a love and hate relationship with, his dick shooting up his abdomen and touching your ass as a result.
He stops kissing you.
"Alright, one more minute of you grinding against me will make me nut. Sit on my face now, baby."
Blood shoots up your cheeks, making you feel hot. A little funny, given what you are doing right now. But he can't just be so casual about it! He was asking you to sit on his face like he was telling you the grass is green. Regardless, you kiss him one last time.
"Don't suffocate." You warned him, already reversing your position as easily as you can so that your back is facing him.
You hear Jungkook chuckling from behind. "Please, I'll die happily suffocating in this pussy."
"Please don't talk about dying." You deflect, already feeling so shy about the whole thing. Indeed it was your first time to try this position, and you quite didn't know how to act. You wonder if he's done this already in the past, but found yourself irritated at the thought of him doing this with anybody else. You'd have to assess what that feeling of irritation means later.
"Hmm," Jungkook hums, grabbing the globes of your ass and fondling them before you could even properly place your knees on both sides of his head. With his hold on the flesh, he pulls you closer to him until you feel his breath on your core. "Ah, shit, will never get tired of this pussy, baby. Fuck, you're so wet."
You try to focus your attention on his hard dick against his stomach, veiny and rigid, red at the tip and shining with pre-cum. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you lean down a little more so that you can begin teasing him.
But Jungkook beats you down to it as he licks a long stripe across your pussy. It has you keening and stumbling a little over, feeling so good at the contact of his tongue against your sex. You hear him hiss before he says, "Come on, pretty, sit on my face, don't hover."
You hesitate before giving in, and Jungkook is quick to continue the ministrations of his tongue on your pussy. The position was so new to you but you couldn't help but think it was so good, feeling him this way, albeit still a little conscious about cutting off his air supply. But as Jungkook starts licking and sucking, you remember his cock in your hand and it prompts you to stroke him up and down; slow, because your mind is cloudy from the way you could hear the slick of your pussy from Jungkook's licking.
Leaning down, you kiss the head of his cock, licking his pre-cum off the top. There was Jungkook's groan again, and you thought that was a good sign, then continued to suck his tip a little just to see it getting even redder.
Jungkook suddenly gets more aggressive in the ministrations of his tongue, from his slow yet precise strokes, he starts increasing speed, fingers getting tighter on your asscheeks, the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance giving you a taste of being full.
It prompted you to whimper, Jungkook only humming, seemingly pleased with himself. Letting out a shaky breath, you resume stroking his cock, twisting your fingers around the base. Soon, you lean even closer so that you can wrap your lips around the head.
Jungkook's groan was a pure sinful sound of pleasure as you did so. Nevermind that he was having his own feast on your pussy, you were determined to make him cum. And to do that was to suck on the tip gently at first, swirling your tongue on the cum that's building up on it. You joined the motion of it with your hand stroking the shaft up and down, cheeks hollowed and sucking the air in your mouth to create a suction that has Jungkook slightly jolting in his position.
"Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that's it, you're so good at this… shit," He says behind you, moving his mouth off your pussy and replacing it with two fingers. Jungkook slides them in easily, the squelching sound so apparent it cannot be mistaken for anything else if there was anybody but you two in the room. "You like this, baby? Hm? You're taking my fingers and my cock so well."
You moaned around his cock, heat starting to spread all over your body as Jungkook began to join his digits with his own mouth, devouring your pussy like he always does when he goes down. You start losing your rhythm on his cock, choking on it a third time now as you haven't really managed to fit it all in your mouth. You've always tried to, but he's always been a little too big for you. If it was a skill issue, you didn't care, Jungkook enjoys it just as much as you do.
When Jungkook rubs your clit, that's when you start shaking on your knees, threatening to crumble down.
As if he knew what was coming, Jungkook suddenly says, "Don't come yet, baby, not now." and you swear you would have actually cried.
What you didn't expect is Jungkook suddenly sitting up, his hands gripping your hips so that you don't jostle on top of him. You let go of his dick as he slides you off his body, and you let him manhandle you into sitting on his cock that slides in too easily like your pussy was fine silk. You now sit on top of him in what seems to be like a reverse cowgirl position, except that you aren't the one in control of your own movements.
"Oh, K-kook – Jungkook!" you yelped as he bounced you on his rigid dick, your body melting against his.
"Shh, take my cock, angel. You can do that for me, right? You're so pretty right now, I wish you could see yourself." Jungkook whispers against your hair, and you pathetically nod, craning your neck up at him to seek for his mouth. He smiles at you, the gentle nature of it so contrasting to the way he was controlling your hips, bouncing you in and out of his cock. "My pretty little angel."
He kisses you passionately, and as seconds passed his hands began to travel upwards to cup your breast, fondling it in his hand and pinching your nipple. You also started to initiate your pwn movements, meeting Jungkook's thrusts from below you, all the whole moaning in his mouth at the pleasure of his cock touching every crevice of your pussy.
The feeling of this never gets old even if you've done it exclusively and quite constantly with each other for the past ten months. Sex with Jungkook is always just so intense it always keeps you on your toes.
"K-kook, I'm cumming," you gasped in his mouth, feeling that build up in your belly
"Hm," Jungkook leaves your boob in favor of your pussy. Kissing you one last time on the mouth, he leans against your shoulder to watch as he spreads your nether lips. You look down to his hand there, fingers spreading the lips apart witnessing your own hole getting split open by his engorged cock. The sight was so lewd and obscene you couldn't help your moan. Then, Jungkook begins rubbing your clit again, fast and with a purpose, this time to make you finish. And he finally gives you the green light to do so. "You can cum now, baby."
And as if prompted by his simple words, you came, feeling a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy. You watch the way Jungkook kept his fingers in there, massaging your hole and kissing your neck.
"Jungkook…" you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high, pussy throbbing and spasming from the intense feeling of cumming. He did edge you from when he ate you out.
"Good girl."
And again, Jungkook changes your position. From sitting up, you are now laid against the bed again, with him switching your positions so now he's the one hovering and you underneath him. He grabs your hips up and enters your pussy once again, sliding his cock in and out to chase his own orgasm. Your moans only encourage him to go faster, his grunts filling the room.
"Oh, that's it, Kook, you come for me too." You say, reaching for his stomach with one hand and fondling your own boob with other for his own consumption. Jungkook always liked seeing you play with them.
"Yeah, you're so sexy like that," he says, even picking up his speed higher.
Soon, he was cumming with a pained groan, and you didn't expect to cum a second time the same time he did.
Another gush of slickness slides down your pussy while Jungkook pulled out completely. But he was putting it in again a second later, rubbing his dick against your core. You sigh, partly at the sensitivity but also how pleasurable it all still felt even though you've come twice now in the span of almost what? – thirty minutes? Maybe an hour?
"Pretty fucking pussy you've got here, baby," Jungkook says before pushing his cum back into you, making you cry out. "Never gonna get enough of this. Of you."
You whimpered, clinging to his forearms as he continued his actions.
"Cum for me one more time?" He asks, staring deeply into your eyes.
And you couldn't possibly do that. Coming twice was not at all what you envisioned your night to be, thrice was a heart attack. But at the same time, you couldn't really resist his pleading eyes and his deep voice and his still hard cock pushing his creampie deeper into you.
So you nod your head, and Jungkook leans down to swipe the strand of hairs that sprouted all over your face overtime, wet on the hairline from your sweat, just before he slides his cock all the way in again, repeating that in and out routine, the slamming and the bottoming out, the quickening oh his pace and your toes curling once again that impeded your orgasm for the third time that night.
When you finished, exhausted and spent the fuck out, Jungkook laid on your boobs and kissed all over, playing with one of your nipples in his other hand. You were flat on the bed, dead weight, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes to cool yourself from what had just happened.
"Okay, that's enough, Kook, we gotta clean up." You say, massaging the soft curls on the top of his head.
He only let out a non-committal hum.
"Jungkook."
"Yes, baby?"
"Enough sex. I'm fried." You say, pulling his hair slightly to make him look up at you. But that was a bad decision of course 'cause he only seemed to enjoy the teasing.
"Just saying hello to these amazing boobs of yours." You rolled your eyes at his retort, nonetheless accepting it.
"Thanks, I guess."
Eventually, Jungkook stopped being clingy and finally found the will to fetch a wet rag from the bathroom. He cleaned you up and and you didn't bother dressing up except the panties you asked him to get for you. Soon after that, you cuddle together in bed.
"Hey," Jungkook suddenly whispers behind you, fingers massaging your hip, mouth press to your head. You hum. "I think we should do that more."
You try to look over your shoulder. "What? The sex?" you say, chuckling.
Jungkook pinches your hip. "Yeah, I told you we should have sex everyday. But that's not the point, I meant the sixty-nine."
"Well, first of all, having sex everyday is physically not possible," you roll your eyes though he couldn't see. "Second, I enjoyed that position, too. A little bit distracting, but definitely really enjoyable."
Jungkook agrees. "I think you just gave me the best blowjob of my life, if you wanna know."
"Really?" you confirmed, smiling up at him.
"Almost nutted when you sucked my head."
You chuckle, slapping his chest and roll your eyes again for how many times now?
"No but seriously…" Jungkook suddenly turns, indeed, serious. But he's still smiling, though, just a little less playful with his tone. "What was with you tonight? Did you finish that essay?"
Oh god, your essay. Right.
You feel your cheeks heat up a little remembering how you were basically thirsting over him him a while ago. And for no reason too.
Despite cringing internally, you shrug. "No, not really, but submission's two days from now and I just wanted to kiss you, I guess."
That made Jungkook's smile even bigger. He doesn't say anything more but only scoots even closer to your neck, kissing your hair.
"Hm, I always wanna kiss you too, and I do. But I love it when you ask for it."
You think you'll start doing it more, too.
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llamagoddessofficial · 2 months
Note
As a scuba diver I can confirm how quickly a peaceful dive can turn scary; on a sea dive I was so caught up in the moment that I completely forgot to watch my oxygen gauge. Thankfully my buddy was there to let me use his air supply and take me to the surface.
What would the siren boys do if MC got into danger while diving, such as very low oxygen? Maybe MC was pulled by the current and drifted away from other divers? Would they help her or take advantage of the situation?
Sans: Her life entirely depends how serious the 'trouble' in question is.
He'll save her if it's a very easy problem for him to solve. Like... if she's near the surface but runs out of air, he can rush her up the last couple of metres. If she drifts away from her friends and is struggling hard against the current, he can loop her arms around his neck and swim her back to them. Things that are emergencies to her, but slight inconveniences to him, he'll help with - especially since saving her life is a very easy way to get a LOT of favour with her. He likes the way she looks at him after he saves her. Beautiful, breathless, exhausted, staring like for a moment she adores him as much as he adores her.
However... a more complex issue? He'd let her drown. Maybe she's too far away from the surface and taking her straight upward wouldn't be safe. Maybe she's entered a state of panic and is making things worse for herself and he can't convince her to hold onto him. Maybe, even, she's in trouble but she simply hasn't seen him. If she never knew he was there she wouldn't be upset he didn't help.
He'll watch. It's just a little bit of discomfort. Then? They can be together forever.
Red: Come on. It's our boy. Our respect women juice chugging world champ - of course he'll rescue her, no matter what.
Her dive buddies definitely recount the story to her. Red was goofing off like he always does, nipping and shoving people he doesn't like, making it clear he's the 'alpha' around here. But suddenly, something about him flips... something in his disposition instantly changes. He becomes completely serious, and beelines into the near distance.
... And it's only once he's with her that everyone else notices she's silently struggling. They wouldn't have known to help if Red hadn't drawn attention to her.
He acts silly and stupid. But he's always paying attention to his mate, even when far away, using his incredible senses to keep tabs. He can sense her heartbeat with his electroreception, hear her breathing in the regulator, smell her blood in her veins. He's much smarter than he acts, and if the situation gets messy, there's not much better help underwater than a massive aggressive shark who'll move mountains to keep her safe.
Skull: Surprisingly, he'll do his absolute best to save her.
You'd expect the big lug to be the one actively pulling her down. But Skull doesn't really have a plan, so to speak, with his beloved little diver, he isn't plotting her death like Sans. He just wants to be around her; he wants to court her, show her what a good mate he'll be, show her pretty rocks and gifts, win her love and pull her back no matter how many times she tries to swim away from him. So it doesn't really matter what's happening - if Skull sees her struggling, he just sees his mate in distress, and he wants to rescue her. He doesn't like seeing her in visible pain or terror.
He might be delayed in helping if she's under the effects of nitrogen narcosis, because that just makes you act silly and drunk, so he wouldn't actually know anything was wrong. But as soon as he notices something off (she takes out her regulator, passes out, etc) he'll do everything he can to save her. He's a good boy underneath all those scars and deadly tentacles.
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astralstarlight · 3 months
Text
it would be nice to sit somewhere quiet with you
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pairing: wriothesley x reader
summary: wriothesley is getting used to having you in his life (fluff)
word count: 1.9k+
a/n: i just assumed he lives in the fortress of meropide + he has a voiceline about how his handcuffs are built differently and can't be unlocked by any old master key, which prompted this ! i love him sm and i want to treat him so kindly
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"What's this?"
The question leaves your lips before Wriothesley has completely let go of the small, metallic item in his fist. It's rare for him to invite you out for lunch, especially when it's an offer to meet you in the heart of Fontaine's main city. His invitation arrived at your desk in the form of a handwritten note, stating the time and place.
It's where you find yourself sitting opposite him now -- in a small cafe within a hidden corner of the city. A mostly empty area, but serving a delicious choice of tea and sweets. His words, not yours.
A beat of silence passes between the two of you.
It's broken when you gasp in surprise, cupping the key with one of your hands and dropping it onto the other hand as though expecting it to disappear between your motions. "Oh, I didn't realise this was a special occasion."
"It's so you don't always have to ask when you come down to visit me." He explains plainly, as though his actions haven't caused a complete rewiring in your brain of what you can expect from Wriothesley. He brings out his own room key to compare with yours.
A look of delight crosses your face when you see that they look completely identical. Clearing his throat, he drops his key back into his pocket, leaning his chin onto the palm of his hand. If he lets down his guard anymore, he's certain he'll blush at the adorable way you're acting right now. An odd, panicked thud hits within his chest when he realises you're not even looking at him, too busy gazing down at the key he's given you fondly. His nervousness changes to a pleasant warmth when you look up at him with a smile on your face.
"Thank you."
Wriothesley shrugs, crossing his arms in what he hopes is a nonchalant motion. "If it's for you..." The words trail off quietly as a different train of thought crosses his mind. "I'm glad you liked it." He says instead.
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In the fourth months since then, you've visited him exactly six times and stayed over once. Although he's starting to think that it doesn't count, considering you left before he'd woken up. Not that he can recall the note that you left behind for him clearly in his mind. Not that he's counting your visits or memorising your excuses for coming this far his way. And he's definitely not got an eye out for you, knowing when you step into the Fortress of Meropide and the times of your exits.
So, as he stands, eyeing the dark and empty room which should hold you in some corner but doesn't seem to, he gets a little panicky. He knows you entered the Fortress of Meropide a little over an hour ago, although he hasn't kept track of your whereabouts since then. It takes a second for the panicked flutter in his heart to register as worry. But it's rendered him slightly useless. All he's doing is staring at the mattress covered in the soft sheets you'd brought with you on one of your visits in a stupid way.
There's a click from the bathroom door and he just manages to get a glimpse of your silhouette before you've barrelled into his chest. Wriothesley lets out a sigh of relief, letting his hands tangle into your hair. The bathroom, of course.
He hadn't even thought to check whether there was a light peeking out from underneath the door of the bathroom.
"Hi." You mumble, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing lightly. Screw his dislike of surprises apparently. "Did I scare you?"
The subtle teasing tone in your voice has the corners of his lips twitching.
"Obviously." He replies. "Who doesn't turn on the light when they enter the room in complete darkness? Even if they're going to the bathroom to shower first." He interrupts you as he notices you open your mouth to retort back to his question. Without waiting another moment, his hand slides from your hair to your cheeks, using a thumb to stroke your skin gently. His other hand reaches to flick on the light switch, revealing your flushed cheeks from the warm shower.
"I missed you." You say quietly.
He returns your sappiness with a roll of his eyes and a grin. "Can't even go without me for a couple of days, huh?"
"Mhm." You twirl a piece of your hair around your finger in thought. His eyes catch the motion, deciding whether to intertwine his free hand with yours. "When did you get the body wash I liked?"
Without answering, he buries his head into the crook of your neck and breathes deeply. It's warm. You feel yourself squirm at the ticklish sensation, only relaxing once his hand comes up to the back of your neck and massages it. An image sprouts in your mind of a hand holding a kitten by the scruff of its neck and you laugh.
It's always been like this; feeling a little like a give-and-take, except he keeps giving and so do you. A mumbled 'what?' brushes over your shoulder. Something seems to bloom in his chest when he notices you've left things behind in his room again. You don't apologise for it anymore. He wonders exactly when that happened.
Maybe somewhere between the third and fourth time you came over just to sit on his bed with him.
"Nothing." You pull away from the hug to look him over. His hair is tousled a bit more than it usually is, as though he ran all the way here from one side of the fortress to the other. A smile threatens to spread over your face and you bite your lip to stop it from appearing.
Wriothesley raises an eyebrow. You look all warm and cozy after your shower, and he honestly just wants to bundle you up and fall asleep with you in his arms. As though you can see the thought crossing his mind, you untangle yourself from his arms immediately, flopping back onto the bed with your arms spread wide.
Your eyes are closed lazily and you let out a contented sigh. "Ahh, it's so nice that I can curl up in bed since I'm all showered and clean."
Wriothesley gives a throaty laugh at the sight of you. His hands rest on his hips now as he rakes his eyes over your form. "Fine, fine. Want to help?"
You shoot up in bed instantly, eyes wide. "Yes."
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"C'mon! Let me see how many layers you're actually wearing."
"Don't dissect me like some kind of insect--"
Wriothesley isn't stopping any of your movements though. Maybe he had something a little more dirty in mind when he made the offer, but it seemed that all you wanted to do was undress him and curl back into bed. He can live with that.
The cape comes off his shoulders first, and surprisingly, it's heavy. A quiet settles over the both of you once you actually move to undress him, and you can feel his eyes scanning your every move. Every movement of your hands against his bare skin or every notice of your intense gaze at his layers of clothing sends a jolt of electricity through him.
It's difficult to tell what he's thinking when he gets like this. You fold his cape neatly in half and place it to the side. You'll start a pile, you decide. As you get to work on pulling off his tie, you realise too late that he'll probably want to hang it up.
Your eyes don't leave his exposed collarbones as you toss his tie over to the side. A guilty feeling weighs you down, and you look up at him, only to find him still watching you with a curious look on his face.
"What? You're pretty," You state, only slightly embarrassed that you've been caught. Before he can retort with anything, you give him a kiss just above his collarbone. Wriothesley takes in a visible sharp breath, and you feel like you've won something. The waistcoat slides off his arms with ease as he lets you nudge him wherever you want.
It's self-consciousness instead of guilt that creeps up onto your next as he still doesn't say a word, merely watching your movements with an intense gaze. You feel a heat burn across your cheeks. You don't even realise you're clenching your fists until one of his hands envelops yours and swipes a thumb over your knuckles.
"You wear so many layers." You're throwing the waistcoat to the side now, shaky hands unbuttoning his shirt.
"It's cold down here." He pauses, tilting his head to think. "And it looks professional."
You snort. "Mm, yes, your loose tie is very professional."
"It adds personality and it makes me look good."
"Not going to argue with that last part." You mumble as your fingers fiddle with his shirt buttons clumsily. Finally, you’re able to get everything off, leaving him shirtless. It’s easier to see his breathing this way. It’s mesmerising. You brush over the scars on his chest absentmindedly. The way his even breathing stutters as you do so brings you back to focus on what you're doing. “Ah, sorry.” 
Before you can move away, he grabs your wrist, holding your splayed, apologetic hand in place. “It’s okay.” His voice is softer when he says that, almost shy. When he’s sure you’re not going to stop touching him, he lets go of your wrist. There are scars accumulated over years of fights and whatever else he hasn’t told you yet. Using just one finger, you trace the outline of a few of them on his chest and his stomach. The whole time, he keeps his breathing even, watching the thoughtful look on your face. As you slowly drop your hand back to your side, he asks a lingering question in his mind. “Can I touch you?” 
“I just showered.” You pout, shoulders slumping slightly at his suggestion. 
“Nothing else, I promise.” 
Wriothesley takes his time. His hand nudges at the top of your loose, bedtime shirt until he can kiss you on your shoulder. Soft pecks trail up to your jawline and his hand tilts your head slightly so he can bite you gently. A tentative hand travels up to the bare skin under your shirt and squeezes the side of your waist. When you don’t object, he pulls the shirt off of you, returning to wrap his arms around you as soon as he does and pulling you close to him. Another kiss, on your cheek this time. Again, on the corner of your lips. And the last one, a yearning press of his lips against yours as his hand strokes your jaw. 
He leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. “Just one more minute like this, and then I will be getting into the shower.” 
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It’s warm in bed next to you. He’s curled up behind you, still placing kisses against your neck and brushing your hair aside as you squirm in his hold. With his arm slung over your waist, there’s not very much you can do. Maybe he’s addicted to kissing your skin. 
“I think I want to follow you around tomorrow.” You suggest hesitantly. There’s a small moment where you think he might actually say no to you, but he just nods and goes back to kissing your neck, brushing his lips down to your shoulder. 
“It’s pretty boring though. All paperwork and other things that I probably should be doing but I’ll ignore for a bit. Until I can't."
You’ve known him a bit too long, you realise. There’s a distinct lilt to his voice that tells you he’s smiling as he’s saying it, even though he’s got you facing the other way so that you can’t see him. 
“Don’t care.” A sigh leaves your lips as he gives you one more long kiss against your shoulder before pulling away. “I want to hang out with you.” 
You thread your fingers with the hand wrapped around your midriff, fiddling with them as you drift off to sleep. Wriothesley watches the silhouette of you breathing before deciding to leave you be and pull you closer to him instead. 
I think I’m afraid of losing you, he thinks. But maybe it’s still a bit too early to tell you that. 
436 notes · View notes
lvlyghost · 3 months
Text
pairings: simon riley x f!reader
summary: reader suffers from a chronic illness and ghost finds out.
wc: 1.1k
tw: chronic pain, chronic illness, slight angst i think, comfort. not edited and not proofread. that's it.
a/n: sorry y'all i'm struggling a lot with writer's block lately so i'm writing these silly little things to help me out of it so don't mind me!
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By the moment Ghost enters his shared office he's frowning so hard that he fears it might leave a permanent mark on his forehead. The first day wasn't unusual as it was normal for soldiers, technicians and federal agents to come and go. Gaz is humming under his breath and greets him with a slight nod when he spots him but he barely returns the gesture. His desk is full of reports waiting to be filled some labeled 'Urgent' in big red letters.
Sitting down he manages to get done the first stack of papers but his mind was lost elsewhere barely paying attention to the work he never had trouble getting done in no time. Part of him wonders if Kyle will tease him if he asked about her. But better asking him than Johnny. As he leans back in his chair, fidgeting with the pen in his hands. Gaz barely pays attention, too enraptured by whatever he's watching on his own computer.
"Where's the girl?"
The Sergeant startles at the sudden sound of his deep voice. Hard and demanding.
"Sir?" He half chuckles when brown eyes meet each other.
"Have you seen her? She's supposed to report back to me and she hasn't." It was only half a truth. She did have to report to him every progress made for future missions, give him the intel so he can report to the Captain. The thing was, there were no missions taking place soon. No black ops, nothing. But Kyle didn't know that.
Gaz lifts his brows, trying to figure out who his Lieutenant was talking about, until it hits him.
"Oh." He murmurs. "The tech girl, Lt?" He shrugs. "Haven't seen her in a few days, have you tried calling her or you know... going to the women's barracks?"
Ghost scoffs as if the mere idea was ridiculous.
"No. Guess she'll show up."
She has to.
Standing up he exits the office under Gaz's questioning look. The hallways feel endless the more he walks to the tech wing, he knows if he passes down that specific hallway he'd be able to see through the glass that serves as walls if she's there or not.
Much to his already building annoyance she's not there.
-
Rolling onto your back you squeeze your eyes shut once more. An unyielding pain throbbing in the back of your skull shoots yet another wave of nausea making you feel more miserable than ever.
It's been two days since the whole ordeal started. It began with a subtle pain that couldn't recognize the symptoms at first, merely blinking away the black dors that started to blurred your vision one afternoon when you were trying to fill the reports for Ghost, pages and pages of new intel recovered from long lost contacts online.
Saying it was hard to dig in all those dark places was an understatement. You had tried to push the symptoms of uneasiness to the back of your mind, typing and decoding algorithms for what could be days. Days without sleep or proper and much needed rest.
So, when the first wave hit you had ran to the bathroom, throwing up what little you had eaten that day. Oh how you hated it. Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes and the terror began, everything went down hill from there.
Shutting the computer off you gathered your belongings. The corridors were in complete silence, abandoned hours ago when everyone went to their dorms.
You remembered picking up some of your things from the women's barracks and retreating to your personal dorm where no one would bother you. As a member of the task force you had a place for you alone —just as the rest of the team— and you're grateful because the next days were a nightmare.
The curtains were tightly closed. Not the tiniest bit of light could pass even if the sun burned brighter. The earplugs helped but they didn't do much to alleviate the external noises. Fuck why were the soldiers so loud? You asked to yourself, jaw tight in an effort to soothe the pulsing on your forehead.
After laying in the same position for another hour you decide to get up, dragging your feet in an enormous attempt to get to the bathroom. With the lights turned off you undress as quickly as you can; standing on your feet is hard enough already but you wait nonetheless for the bath to fill with cool water.
With numb extremities you step in and lower yourself, it's almost soothing and calming the way the water swallows your body and then your head. Ever since these headaches —these migraines— started to interfere, you learned that cool water could help to ease the symptoms. Time passes by and when you emerge your teeth chatter, lips turned purple but it was worth it. God was it worth it.
You're exhausted, this has taken a toll on you. Fitting your pajamas feels like an impossible task. Your head throbs with the slightest of movement. And then the door opens just a tad, reveling the dark shadow of the man you'd recognize anywhere.
"Ghost," you murmur acknowledging his presence, half shocked half embarrassed that he's right here in your bedroom. Your bathroom.
"Why is everything dark?" His voice is too loud and it makes you flinch; he's quick to notice even in the sheer darkness. He notices the whimper in your voice when he speaks too loud. He notices the way your body sags, and when he takes a step close you lean on him. Forehead pressing down on his broad chest. "Hey." He calls you, voice lowering this time. "Let me take you to the bed."
And you almost want to say something it. Make a comment about it being inappropriate but you're too sick to even do it so you let him guide you. You let him lay you down and surprises you when he follows.
Bodies curling against the other. You rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes so hard until the pain soothes. "You never told me about it."
"Never had the chance. Thought you hated me, remember?"
Ghost sighs. He had never intended for you to feel like that around him, he just wasn't accustomed to having such a nice person around him. You were so different from everything he knew.
"Forgive me, love." He mutters. "They're gonna start asking questions."
"What do you mean?" You grab him by the shirt when a sudden wave of nausea hits you. He caresses your hair in a calming manner.
"I asked Garrick about you." Before you can fight it a smile spreads on your face.
"Johnny..." you snort, regretting it the moment the laugh rattles in your brain. The Scot is about to have a field day when he finds out. "Ow..."
"Will never hear the end of it." His thumb presses down on your temple massaging the spot. "Better?"
"Yeah." There's a moment of brief silence where all you can hear is the sound of feet outside your dorm. People carrying on with their lives. "Would you stay with me tonight Lt.?"
"Thought you'd never ask."
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maeby-cursed · 6 months
Text
KISS ME, TRY TO FIX IT…
𓂃 COULD YOU JUST TRY TO LISTEN ?
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a/n: starting a new series of songfics ! this one is very obviously inspired by sad, beautiful, tragic, so you can see where this might be going. enjoy the results of my brainrot ♡ (also, i’ve never written for gojo before, please have mercy)
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✧ synopsis: you’ve been waiting for satoru gojo for ten years, but there’s no trace of the man you fell in love with when you were sixteen years old. it’s time to let go, but he might not want to.
✧ pairings: satoru gojo x fem!reader
✧ wc: 2k
✧ rating: angst. so much of it, angst to drown in. might get suggestive at some points.
✧ cw: mentions of drinking, of the great jjk tragedy of 2006 and its aftermath, implied cheating, gojo may be ooc, toxic relationship ??
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An ice-cold wind blows through the window as you wait.
It’s not even December yet but it’s already snowing.
Soft snowflakes the size of stars, far away in their firmament, enter your living room. When they land on the sofa, they dissolve, leaving in their wake thousands of specks of water that look disturbingly like tears.
It doesn't matter. You don't think he's going to notice anyway.
It's been ten long years of waiting. Ten long years of fighting, of fixing what's broken and denying that it's ever been broken.
It's over. Let winter freeze everything in its path.
When Satoru walks in through the door, you hesitate for a moment. A moment of madness when you see his hair, as white as the snowfall that has invaded your home. Just a moment when you see him in his burgundy turtleneck sweater, his tight-fitting coat. One single moment when you recognize the cold in his pink cheeks.
But it's all over when you meet his crystalline eyes. The fault is theirs.
"Is the window broken again?" he asks, dropping his keys on the entryway’s table.
The window has been broken since September.
You nod and he grunts, running a hand over his face.
"I'll call someone tomorrow, although you could have said something," he says. This is your fault. Of course.
You keep your eyes fixed on the snow. From the living room you can see the sidewalk across the street, covered in a blanket of white that sparkles under the street lamps. It's so painfully beautiful it makes you nostalgic.
You and Satoru moved into this house three years ago, when he got his teaching position, and you can't quite get over the fact that it's time to say goodbye.
You've spent three years of solstices here. You've seen the sidewalks covered with dead leaves, with thousands of little flowers that broke the pavement in their wake. But it’s never snowed. 
It’s not fair, not one bit.
Satoru says no more. He goes to your room and undresses; he replaces his street clothes with a black outfit that seems very appropriate for the occasion. Since you’ve known him, he always takes off his glasses when he crosses the hall of your building, but for once, you wish he'd put them back on. 
When he returns, his hair is dripping over his forehead. You hadn't even noticed that he was taking a shower. 
But he hasn't noticed that your bedside table is empty, either; that your slippers are missing, that there's a seeping coldness in the hearth of your house, and it's not coming from the window.
"What's for dinner?" he asks, plopping down on the couch with his cell phone in his hand.
You get up.
9:26 p.m., November 8. This is where it ends.
"I don't know. I'm going out to dinner," you say.
He doesn’t even bother to look up.
"Hmm, where are you going? Are you bringing something back or should I order myself a pizza?"
It's painful to watch as nothing seems to touch him. He’s infinite — always infinite.
"I'm going to a work friend's house."
"The one with the lovely curly hair and those pretty hazel eyes?"
Christ.
"No. I'm moving in with Rhea. Dark-eyed, blonde, leggy."
"Hmm, how nice."
A moment passes where he just keeps staring at the screen, and you despair.
"Satoru."
"What's up, baby?"
"I'm moving."
At last – at last – he looks up. In his eyes you see nothing; two blue marbles that have sworn you two to an unjust fate.
"You're moving out? Why?"
Where to begin? Because you have been loving a man destined to save everything and everyone for a decade, because you have been trying to fill a void that is not your size for eight years, because the windows are broken and the bed is cold and Satoru arrives several nights smelling of anisette and the perfume of another, because you don't want to live looking at the Strongest, the possessor of the Six Eyes. Because you thought that in some hidden corner Satoru Gojo was still there, and he isn’t.
"Because it's killing me to live like this.” You settle for that as your explanation and try to keep your stare unwavering.
"Like this how?" he questions, suddenly irritated. "In a luxurious house?" He gestures around him with the cell phone in his hand. "Comfortably, with your dream job? Knowing you'll never have to worry about money?"
"No, Satoru. Like this, without you loving me."
That chills him to the bone.
"Of course I love you."
"Do you? Do you want me for anything other than to warm your bed and your cock? Do you want me here, as your partner? Do you need me for anything at all?"
You don’t gesticulate, you barely move from your spot in the middle of the room. Everything in this fucking place is white and uncannily clean; the sofas, the coffee table, the walls, even the snow; but you and Satoru. He’s in all black, you’re in all red. It’s almost dreamlike, and you struggle to stay grounded. 
The only thing you could remove from this house that would grab his attention would be you.
"Yesterday you weren't complaining about any of this, what the fuck is the matter with you today?"
And you can't stand it anymore. The winter current lifts your hair, soaks the back of your neck and disguises your tears.
"THE MATTER IS THAT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR TEN YEARS. WAITING FOR YOU. WAITING FOR THE MAN I MET AT SIXTEEN TO COME BACK, SLEEPING WITH A MAN OF ABSENT GAZE WHO STAGGERS INTO MY BED WHEN HE'S TIRED OF BEING IN EVERYONE ELSE'S. I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR DOG, SATORU. I DON'T WANT YOU TO COME HOME AND FEEL OBLIGATED TO GIVE ME A WALK, A PETTING."
The words come spilling out of you without remedy, every wound bursting open through the stitches. He just looks at you.
"You think I don't love you?"
It hurts to hear him say it, it fucking hurts. You were prepared for the yelling and the coldness, even for a quick vulnerable stare. But never for his trembling voice and soft frown.
You inhale deeply.
"I don't think your love is of any use to me any longer."
Satoru stands up at that.
He's tall, tall and beautiful like Michelangelo's David. All your life, you've been feeling like you had no right to touch him. His infinity assured you that was the case. 
He takes a step in your direction and whispers:
"Then what should I do now?"
Your eyes, fixed on the ground, rise to meet his. There's something in the void and you're not sure if it's just your reflection.
"What?" you mutter. 
"How do I fix it? What do you need that I can't give you? Do you want me to quit work, for us to leave, for me to come home and kiss your temple, to cook for you, to listen to you, to cherish you in bed?” A heartbeat. “I will."
There’s something about the desperation in his tone, you aren’t sure of what to say next.
Satoru knows how to lie, but you don't know how to tell the difference.
"I don't want anything, Satoru. I'm tired," you whisper back, eyes full of water. "I want it to end. I want you to let it end."
He shakes his head, frowning, and through the mist of your tears you recognize that he is crying too.
"There has to be something. Anything. Something I can do, I can do it all."
It's partly true. He's Satoru Gojo; all-powerful, all-knowing. Eternal and young and beautiful and tragic as a poem.
You are just another person. You cried when Suguru left, when Haibara died, when Kento gave up the Jujutsu world and when Ieri locked herself in her office. You clung to Satoru, who resembled an empty seashell more than a person. 
You remember those nights back in 2007. You remember blindfolding him so he wouldn't activate infinity by accident, by reflex, out of overstimulation. You remember cutting his hair when he couldn’t and looking for him in his old antics. You remember taking care of Megumi – always reluctant – and Tsumiki – who you felt was too mature for her age. You remember the burden of being eighteen and having lost a world.
And, above all else, you remember Satoru under the rain. Under the pressure of the world you had lost, the one that he was trying to put back together. There was a month where he seemed catatonic; no smiles, drinking anisette as if it were his one source of life. A thirty-day period followed by the rebirth of a person who looked like the one that stood before, but who seemed cold and alien to you.
"Don't you love me, my darling?" he seeks for you, reaching out a hand to brush against your cheek.
Of course you love him. You love him even like this, like you have loved each and every one of his versions.
"I adore you, Satoru. But I can't stay; you can't fix it."
"Of course I can," he reaches out to you, holding your face between his fingers, "Of course I can."
His lips connect with yours — one last attempt, you don't know by whom.
Snow fills the room and it's cold, but you drink from his mouth, from his everlasting warmth; everything in him lasts forever.
Between kisses, you show him everything you have been for years. Ten years of kisses, of hands looking for hands and flesh searching for flesh.
He moves backwards, keeping you between his hands and guiding you towards the hallway and from the hallway to your shared bed.
This is where it ends.
"Satoru..." you whisper.
"I'm here. I'm here, beautiful, my favorite girl. Talk to me."
A sob escapes you as he utters those words. My favorite girl. That’s what he used to call you. Talk to me, he used to plead, that year at sixteen, when everything was about to start.
Isn't it beautiful that it ends the exact same way?
"Satoru, I'm leaving," you press a farewell kiss to his jaw.
"No, you're not leaving," he murmurs, smiling against your mouth, searching for your lips.
You back away and look at him one more time. And you smile, because there's nothing left.
"I'm already gone. Just let go of me, please."
"But..." he starts, his smile hesitant, "But I'm going to fix it."
You take one of his hands between yours and kiss it as it presses against your cheek, before lowering it to your lap.
"Satoru..." You pronounce each syllable of his name carefully and he stifles a cry. "I'm not going to go any further. I've already made the move and Rhea's expecting me at her house in an hour. I love you, I’ll love you until I run out of kisses, but it does me no good to love you. It is of no use to me, this love. I wanted to tell you. I wanted you one last time. Wasn’t it my turn to be the selfish one for once?"
He watches you, and his mouth shuts close. You've never seen Satoru lose. 
No, that's not true. There was a time, one time, where you saw him lose everything.
His eyes fill up with you one second and empty the next.
This is his second time.
He lifts his chin with an arrogance that no longer means anything and lets go of your hands.
"Go then, if you want. I'm not going to do anything to stop you,” he drags the words with feign disinterest. “I can't do anything."
That's the last gift he can give you. An honesty unbecoming of him, a truth that will never belong to Satoru Gojo ever again. 
From god to human in three kisses and a goodbye.
"Thank you," you say to him. Then you get up, heading for the living room, where your coat and your escape door await you.
He stays in the bedroom – with himself as he always is – after you leave. 
And he hides you where he always hides the things he breaks, in the back of his eyes, where no one can reach to see anything.
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© 2023, MAEBY-CURSED — do not copy/repost/edit.
(reblogs are appreciated !!)
637 notes · View notes
st4rfckerz · 5 months
Text
home alone | stepbro!anakin x reader (pt 2)
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word count: 3k
warnings: MDNI 18+, stepcest, dubcon, mild masturbation, choking, fingering, slight praise, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare, ending is super rushed, dead dove do not eat
summary: a week has passed since anakin snuck into your room and it hasn't left your mind since.
pt. 1 here
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it's been a week since your late night encounter with anakin, and the memory of it lingers in your mind, evoking a mix of emotions each time you think about it. the space between you and anakin feels different now, a subtle tension that hangs in the air, unspoken yet palpable.
as you and anakin sit together on the couch, the atmosphere in the room becomes increasingly stifled by the uncomfortable silence that hangs between you. the weight of unspoken emotions and desires lingers in the air, making it difficult to focus on the show playing on the television screen.
just as the silence reaches its peak, the sound of your parents' voices breaks through, signaling their arrival in the living room.
"alright, we're gonna go to the grocery store. we'll be back in an hour." your stepmother spoke with a small smile. you both nodded in response and she grabbed her car keys and purse, your dad following closely behind her.
time seemingly stood still, the silence almost deafening. you and anakin both just sat there in silence, not knowing what to say. you couldn't help but take a glance at the way that anakin was positioned on the couch. his legs spread apart as he leaned back and propped his arm up against the back of the couch. the other arm rested on his stomach, his eyes glued to the television. he was making it clear he wasn't moving any time soon but he was still staring at the television. just looking at him made you all hot and bothered. you couldn't help but stare, your eyes glued on him. anakin caught your attention and he just gave you a little smile, as if he knew exactly what you were looking at.
you couldn't help but remember that night anakin entered your room. your mind flowed with thoughts about him and how good he made you feel. the memories of anakin's lips on your neck, the way his breath tickled your neck everytime he spoke and his big hands gripping your hips as he rocked your needy pussy against his pulsing cock. the memory of it was electrifying, yet somehow it made you nervous as you thought of your boyfriend and what you had done. you still felt a little guilty regarding the whole thing.
you were pulled back into reality by anakin's voice.
"hey," his voice was calm, yet firm. "i said 'pass the remote.' " anakin's hand reaches towards you and he began to flex his fingers, as if he was impatient to get the remote. you mumble a meek "sorry" as you slowly passed him the remote, your fingers accidentally brushed against his.
"what were you thinking about?" anakin asks, the light from the tv casting a faint blue glow onto his face.
"nothing." you respond. anakin tilted his head at you and smirked. he didn't believe you and he had already begun to wonder about what you and he had done. he was starting to piece things together in his head.
"are you sure? you've been very tense lately." he raised an eyebrow at you. his eyes darted up and down your body and you could see him taking in every detail of you.
"i'm fine." you felt a wave of anxiety wash over you as you tried to act normal around anakin.
"ok," he mumbles as he turns his attention back to the tv. "i'm sure it has nothing to do with last week, right?" his voice was filled with a taunting tone. without missing a beat, you shoot up from the couch and head towards the stairs.
"i'm gonna shower."
anakin just sat there and watched you run away from the situation. his eyes were filled with amusement at your reaction. he continued to lounge, seemingly not minding the fact that you didn't answer his question.
you rushed up the stairs and into your bathroom, shutting the door behind you. you took in a deep breath, closing your eyes and releasing the tension in your body. you let the water run and began removing your clothes. the sound of rushing water fills the bathroom as you turn on the shower, its steamy embrace enveloping the space. you felt the need to cleanse yourself, getting rid of the feeling that was slowly eating away at you. as the steam begins to fill the space, you strip away each item of clothing, your wet underwear clinging to your skin like a second skin. the sensation of the damp fabric against your heated flesh only heightens the arousal pulsating through your veins.
you reach down with a single finger and trail it through your sensitive folds. the touch of your own slickness against your skin sends a jolt of pleasure through your body. the soft moan that escapes your lips is drowned out by the sound of the running water as you continue to tease yourself, letting your finger dance along your wet, puffy lips.
carefully, you step into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over your naked body. with one hand pressed against the tiled wall for support, your other hand ventures below, delving into the depths of desire. fingers glide over your slick folds, exploring every curve and crevice with painstaking precision.
the comforting hiss of the shower carries away your soft, unrestrained moan as you slide a finger inside of yourself. lost in your own world of ecstasy, you're completely unaware of the delicate sound of the bathroom door opening and closing.
anakin entered the bathroom, his eyes instantly locked on you. he couldn't help but take in the scene in front of him. you squeezed your eyes shut and opened your mouth slightly to let out a few soft whimpers. you were completely oblivious to his presence.
anakin slowly began to remove his clothes. he steps into the shower silently and leans in close to your ear.
"having fun?"
you quickly turned to the sound of anakin's voice and your eyes fell on him standing behind you in the shower. before your mind had the chance to think, anakin pushes you up against the cold, tile wall.
"w-what are you doing." your breath hitches slightly as you stutter out your question, the vulnerability in your tone evident.
"what am i doing?" anakin whispers, his voice low and husky. "what were you doing?" he tilts his head as he speaks.
you leave anakin's question unanswered, a charged silence lingers between you. without breaking eye contact, anakin reaches out and delicately takes your finger into his mouth. the warmth and wetness of his mouth envelop you, sending an electric current coursing through your veins. anakin's tongue glides against your skin, his gentle sucking causing your breath to hitch. his eyes never leave yours, his gaze both intense and inviting, as if daring you to give in to the overwhelming sensuality of the moment.
anakin releases your finger from his mouth, a soft pop resonating in the air, and his lips curve into a knowing smile.
"if you needed help you could've just asked." he purrs, his voice lowered to a sinful whisper.
"no, ani," you assert firmly, your voice laced with a touch of frustration. "i need you to leave. we can't keep doing this." despite the conflicted feelings stirring within your core, you stand your ground.
"oh, spare me the act," he retorts, his voice taking on a sharp edge. "don't act like you don't want it."
"i'm serious, anakin. this needs to stop," you assert, looking him straight in the eye, your voice carrying a harshness that belies the turmoil within.
"you wanna be like that, hm?" anakin's expression darkens as frustration turns to anger. his hand jumps up, fingers wrapping firmly around your throat, exerting just enough pressure to convey his control. he doesn't squeeze too tightly, but the firmness of his grip sends a jolt of unsuspected arousal coursing through your body.
"stop being such a prude," he murmurs, his voice a seductive growl. anakin sees the small glint of fear in your eyes and loosens his grip on your throat, but a possessive hold remains. his other hand, no longer an aggressive force, moves with a deceptive gentleness, sneaking down your body.
"we both remember what happened last week." anakin's hand lingers at your bare cunt, feeling the dampness that has pooled between your parted thighs. he finds your clit, giving it a playful swipe. a wicked smile tugs at the corners of his lips as you let out a small whimper, a clear indication of the effect he's having on you. he grows bolder, his fingers dipping lower. then, he finds it, and a moan escapes your lips as he slips a finger into your soaking pussy. the wetness envelops him, a tight and heated embrace that sends shivers coursing through your body.
"fuck, you're already squeezin' me," his fingers curl inside you, stroking your sweet spot with precision, eliciting endless moans and gasps from your parted lips.
your head hangs low, a sign of submission to the intoxicating pleasure that anakin evokes in you.
"look at me," he demands pressing your jaw upright with a cupped hand. "there she is." anakin coos, his voice a husky whisper. his lips curl up into a slick, cocky smile.
his thumb finds your throbbing clit again, circling it with calculated precision, the added stimulation pushing you closer to the edge. to your surprise, anakin abruptly withdraws his fingers from your trembling cunt, denying you the release you were so desperately seeking. anakin's teasing nature takes hold as he watches the confusion paint across your features.
"ah ah, not yet." he tuts, his eyes glistening with wicked amusement. anakin's strong hands grasp your arms and guide them to wrap around his neck. the action is firm yet gentle, asserting his control over your body while also allowing you to participate in the intimate embrace.
as your arms clutch onto him, you feel the warmth of his skin against your fingertips, the contours of his muscles beneath your touch. anakin guides the velvety tip of his member to the entrance of your wetness. he teases you, grazing the sensitive folds with just the slightest pressure, making your body jolt against his.
"ani please." your plea escapes your lips as a desperate whisper.
"is that all you can say sweet girl? is that the only line you know?" anakin says in a teasing manner, your reaction only fueling his ego. he continued to kiss your neck, his lips gently pressing down on your soft skin. you were feeling overwhelmed by his touch, but you were too embarrassed to ask him to stop. you couldn't help but bite your lip and think about how wrong this was, yet also how right it felt.
anakin grabs your leg and wraps it around his waist, bringing you even closer to him. with a powerful thrust of his hips, anakin plunges deep inside you, filling you completely. he pauses, allowing you a moment to adjust to the feeling of him stretching you so deliciously. he begins to move, starting with slow, shallow thrusts. with each thrust, he pushes a little deeper, filling you with his length, until he's buried to the hilt once again.
anakin holds you tightly, reveling in the sweet sounds of your moans. each delicate sound that escapes your lips only serves to fuel his hunger, intensifying the movements of his hips.
"you feel so good angel, so so good." he murmurs, his voice thick with husky delight.
the sound of the front door opening and closing abruptly fills the air, snapping both of you out of the post-coital haze. anakin's mother's voice echoes through the house, calling out for both of you.
as your eyes widen with surprise, anakin quickly notices your reaction. the sound of your stepmom's footsteps draw closer, her voice echoing through the hall. she approaches the bathroom door, her knocks resounding with a sense of urgency.
"hey, where's your sister? we need help with the groceries." anakin reaches over and covers your mouth gently but firmly, ensuring that no sound escapes.
anakin continues to move inside you despite his mother being just outside the door. his breath hitches as his thrusts become more deliberate, his tip brushing harshly against your sweet spot with each deep stroke.
"i think she went out with some friends, i'm sure she'll be back soon." anakin works to keep his voice steady, though his efforts to conceal his shallow moans become increasingly challenging. his grip on your waist tightens, a silent affirmation of his desire to hold both you and this secret close.
"alright, well make sure she doesn't stay out too long." the sound of your stepmom's footsteps fade into the distance. anakin lets out a sigh of relief and the tension drains from his body, leaving a sense of calm in its wake. he keeps his grip on your waist, holding it firmly as if to anchor himself in the here and now.
"such a good girl staying quiet for me," anakin rasps, his lips leave a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. "can't have anyone hear you making a mess on your big brother's cock." anakin's lips curl into a lazy, lopsided smile as he stared at you with his cold, hooded eyes. his fingers expertly find their way to your left tit, gently kneading it as if molding them to his liking. each touch and caress from anakin's skilled hands pushes you further, intensifying the burn that swirls within you.
"does your dumb boyfriend make you feel like this? hm?" anakin's gaze flickers with a hint of possessiveness as he brings up your boyfriend.
you quickly shake your head and mutter a few hushed 'no's'. a dark chuckle falls from anakin's lips. "that's right, only i can make you feel good. he doesn't deserve such a pretty pussy, fuck - almost like it was made for me." anakin rambles, he lets his head tilt back, and his jaw slacks open ever so slightly.
"a-ani, i'm gonna cum," you pant, the sounds of your labored breathing blending with your speech. your body was moving in sync with anakin's, you were both so close to one another. his hand began to venture to the front of you, rubbing your puffy clit vigorously. a gasp escapes your lips as the intensity shoots through you. your body responds instinctively, arching towards anakin's touch, begging for more.
"yeah? gonna cum on my cock?" anakin's voice staggered. you nod quickly, catching your bottom lip in your teeth to suppress your sweet whimpers.
"give it to me, cum for me baby." he grits through his teeth. anakin's grip on your thigh tighten as he drills into you. your entire body tenses as you let out a cry, you tightly clench around his cock. anakin hastily covers your mouth with his own, attempting to suppress your moans and prevent you from being heard by your parents. your legs momentarily lose their strength, threatening to give out beneath you.
"m'almost done." anakin mumbles as he continues to drill into you to chase his own orgasm. soon his hips stutter against yours, his movements desperate and fueled by an uncontrollable need to release. the friction between your bodies intensifies, and a raw moan escapes anakin's lips as he fills you up, his slick coated cock twitching deep inside you.
anakin's grip on your leg loosens as he pulls out gently, pressing his forehead against yours. his breath comes out in short, uneven gasps, evidence of his own overwhelming release.
"shit...are you ok?" his slightly shaky hand comes up to wipe away your damp hair from your forehead. you reassure anakin, a softness to your voice as you reply.
"mhm." you look up at him and give him a small smile. your mind was still all fuzzy, rendering all verbal expression impossible for you.
anakin returns your dopey smile before leaning in to give you a quick, tender peck on the lips. he reaches for a nearby hanging washcloth and wets it with the warm shower water. his touch is gentle as he takes his time, slowly and attentively cleaning you up. the warm, damp cloth glides across your skin, wiping away any traces of your shared fluids. every stroke is deliberate, a subtle caress that brings both comfort and a renewed sense of closeness.
"there you go." anakin coos, his voice conveys warmth and tenderness. the sound of the water's steady flow stops abruptly as anakin leans over to turn it off. the steam slowly dissipates, revealing a bathroom filled with a hazy fog. grabbing a towel from nearby, he exits the shower with you. he holds the towel open, silently inviting you to step into his personal space, a shared invitation to dry you off as well. with a whisper-soft touch, anakin sweeps the towel across your body. the soft fabric of the towel absorbs the moisture from your skin, leaving behind a warm, tingling sensation. there's a raw vulnerability in that moment, a vulnerability that leaves you feeling exposed and yet completely safe in his presence.
after drying you off, he secures the towel around his waist, its fabric clinging snugly to his lean body. the towel hangs low on his hips, teasingly revealing the beginnings of a trail of dark hair that leads towards his pelvis.
you collect your clothes and begin to dress yourself. anakin's gaze was fixated on you, as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world. anakin's gaze then shifted momentarily when a loud thump erupted from downstairs.
"stay in here until i say." he spoke firmly but quietly. anakin grabbed your clothes, shoved them in your hand and shut the door behind him, leaving you to get dressed in the bathroom.
as you sat in the bathroom, your mind was filled with a range of emotions. you felt a little odd and confused, but at the same time you felt a sense of peace and acceptance. anakin's touch and affection was like a comforting rush, and you felt as if you two had crossed a barrier that you could never go back from. anakin was just as much in shock as you were, and you both knew that things would never be the same again. however, in that moment, as you patiently wait in the warm, humid bathroom, you felt a sense of calmness and acceptance. you felt at ease.
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sugarlywhispers · 4 months
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ex!b.katsuki x reader ; m.izuku x reader — bakugou cheats on his gf, with midoriya's girlfriend.
☆– warnings; ANGST. mention and description of panic attacks, swear words, cheating (bakugou to reader; uraraka to midoriya), description of a fight. But it ends in fluff~ c;
☆–a.n; honestly, i don't know if i'm going to add another chapter... i still have a bit more of ideas for this, but i don't know ._.
in the meantime, i hope you liked this new part! <3
also, i hope ya'll have a wonderful beggining of 2024!!! may this new year bring lots of good thing for everyone, lots of love and adventures, new amazing things and wonderful people to your lives!
love ya'll so much, wish you all ALL the good things life can bring; no more tears, except happy ones. <3
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A few weeks go by, and Midoriya and you keep in touch, texting almost everyday. Talking about random stuff, important stuff, whatever the mood is. But it's mostly cute, random stuff, getting to know each other kind of feeling. It's funny how you both have been around each other for so long and did not actually know one another. 
The texting was cute. Like a picture he sends one afternoon, when his shift is calm and almost finished, when the sun is setting, taken from up high in a building. A beautiful sunset picture that you use as a lock screen wallpaper on your phone. Or that one selfie he sent when he shared patrols with Hero Shoto; you remember thinking how cute he looked posing next to the hot and cold Hero, with two fingers of one of his hands pulled up on a peace sign. Or a picture of a little puppy Hero Deku found on a rainy morning shift. He took it to the closest vet so they could help the little animal, and you find that so fucking heroic it makes your heart jump from the cuteness.
"I wonder… who has you smiling like that? Oh , I know… Mister Greeny," Mineta mocks, his eyebrows shaking up and down suggestively.
"Shut up," you bark and hit him on the upper arm strongly. He simply laughs.
Three months pass faster than you actually realize. You're better, you feel better. You haven't had a single panic attack since Midoriya Izuku entered your life. Which is good… it means good.
He is good.
Since that first Friday you grabbed coffee together, you both decided to make it your day. Each and every Friday morning, Izuku and you would go to grab coffee at that same shop you went to the first time; then he would walk you home as the gentleman he is.
It's Friday and you're waiting for him, it's a bit late already, but you know he is coming. He had a night patrol but he insisted to not break the new tradition - his words. You found it cute, so you didn't protest.
But now you're worried, because it's almost 30 minutes since you have been waiting and he hasn't come yet. Then it becomes 40, 45, 50 minutes. You feel your neck itchy, but you try to ignore it, looking at your phone. Waiting for a notification, waiting for Mid‐ Izuku to contact you. But nothing.
It's already been 1.10 hours long and no sign of him. You sigh and decide to go home, it's been more than an hour already. Probably he had something coming up at the last minute, or he simply forgot. He probably had a rough night and he didn't have time to meet you. You're not as important as his job, obviously.
You grab your things and exit the place, the kind girl behind the counter smiles sadly at you and waves her hand as goodbye. You smile, or at least try, in her direction and leave the coffee shop.
You feel itchy all over. This… This is… weird . Why are you feeling like this? You have no right to feel… disappointed, hurt . He's a Hero. He's freaking Number One, pro hero Deku. His job will always come first. But you can't help it. It's like…
You're not my priority, Y/N. Understand that you'll never be. I have to concentrate in my job if want to fucking be Number one.
You haven't heard his voice in your head for a long time now. And hearing it again is… painful. Hurting. Choking .
Every sound around you feels a hundred times louder as you walk, every light blinds you and you don't realize you're bumping into almost everyone around. The pressure on your neck is getting stronger and you can't breathe. You can't think. Your vision is turning black, like that night at the ramen shop with Mineta. A panic attack . You're having one in the middle of the street. How embarrassing . How pathetic . 
You want the blackness to finally evolve you, and don't let go.
And then you see it, you feel it. Green eyes and strong hands grabbing your shoulders. You know those green eyes, you have seen them before. He's moving his mouth but you can't hear his voice. He looks worried; why is he worried? You feel rough hands that grab your face as softly as he can, and they are cold. You aren't used to the cold, but you like it. It's refreshing.
"...hear me? Y/N, please breathe, okay? Breathe with me," his voice is comforting, so you follow him, you breathe with him. "That's it… You're okay. We are okay."
The sight around you starts to clear, the blackness dissipates and you see clearly. His face is the first thing your eyes find. You know him. "Izuku?"
" Yes! Yes, it's me… Hi, love," he smiles relieved. You look around realizing you're in the middle of a circle, with him. People are watching, some worried, some annoyed. Embarrassing .
You realize then that Izuku's hands are around your face, holding you with no intention of letting go. "Izuku…"
He blinks, realizing then probably your surroundings and nods. "Yes, come one, let's go…"
Izuku helps you stand, his arm surrounding your waist pulling your weight on him so he helps you walk. Everyone starts clapping, clearly recognizing hero Deku even in his civilian clothes.
He walks you to your apartment in silence. Until you walk into the building, "There's no elevator?"
"No, it's been broken since before I got here," you know your voice sounds throaty, and the expression on his face says it worries him.
He sighs looking at the long stairs ahead. He knows you live on the fourth floor. "Okay, then," he says before picking you up, bridal style.
"Izuku! I can walk!"
"No, you can't. You have been putting your weight on me the whole way here."
"Still, I…"
"Shut up. Let me help," his tone it's so authoritative you have no other option than to do that. Shut up and let him help, because you know you wouldn't be able to climb those stairs up on your own even if you tried.
On the way up, you can't avoid watching him. He looks… angry . You have never seen him like that, or better said, you have never experienced his anger, you have seen him angry on the TV, fighting villains.
"I'm sorry," you say, and he stops midway, his eyes traveling to your face.
"You're apologizing for having a panic attack?" He's frowning, his tone incredulous, but serious. It makes tingles run your body.
"I'm… Yes, it's embarrassing ," you feel your voice crack a bit, and you hate that.
"Y/N, it's not embarrassing. It's a trauma response. And it's okay to go through it. But you need to heal…"
You look away from his face, tears already burning your eyes. You can't help but hear his voice again.
Having panic attacks in public is embarrassing, Y/N. You have to control them. Don't be fucking weak.
" He said… he said they were embarrassing."
You know you shouldn't be saying this to Izuku, but you said it even before you could actually think it.
" Who said-…" Izuku stops mid sentence. Takes a deep, deep breath, and continues climbing the stairs in silence. You don't dare look up. He's so tense and angry, you don't really have the courage to witness that right now.
When you arrive at the fourth floor you signal him which one is your apartment. And even when you are in front of the door, he doesn't put you on the ground. He stands there, waiting patiently, as you search for the key card on your bag and when the door is open he enters with you in his arms. He of course takes his shoes off at the entrance and walks inside.
He doesn't say anything as he sits you over the small couch and sits next to you, his arm touching yours and taking almost all the space around you. His smell is around and you like it.
His face is even closer to yours when he asks, worried, "When were you going to tell me you have panic attacks?"
"I… I don't want to bother anyone with them." You tell the truth. You can't lie to him.
"That's what he told you? That they are a bother?" You simply shrug, not really wanting to answer. "Y/N, I'm not angry or feel like this is a bother. I'm worried, you need help."
"I am going to therapy. I've been going since I'm five, Izuku. I had a handle on them, they weren't recurrent until…"
"Until he left you," he finishes for you, slightly shaking his head and you nod.
Izuku sighs, standing up and you watch him. Is he going away? Is he embarrassed and going away, deciding not to involve or do anything with your broken self?
"Do you mind if I make us both tea?"
You shake your head rapidly in answer. He smiles and walks towards the kitchen. You follow his every move, being a small apartment it's easy to do it.
Izuku is… staying . For tea. He's not leaving. He's not leaving you alone after a panic attack. Like Mineta. But he's your best friend, Mineta has always been there; like you have been there for him even after the war he had to be part of at such a young age and he tried to push you away. Izuku doesn't have that obligation. Izuku… is your friend? Well, that's how you like to think of him since you got to know him this past months. But the category of best friend was not there for him yet. You were just getting to know each other. So, why is he here? Why does he stay?
"It's ready," he suddenly says, sitting back next to you with the two mugs of tea. He gives you one and you accept it a bit startled.
The sudden smell of lemon with honey tea that invades your nose as you bring it closer to drink immediately relaxes you. You smile after taking a sip.
You look back at him and he's watching intently at you, like he's waiting for your reaction.
"You remembered," you say and you really want to cry now.
He smiles, a hand flying to the back of his head to scratch it nervously, "You said it was your favorite."
You did. On a text message, when the topic was favorite drinks . But the fact that he remembered that you said it, it is… overwhelming.
Silence again. On your part it's more relaxed, but you can feel him a bit anxious. You decide to give him space, time to say whatever it is that it's inside his mind.
Until he does.
"You're not the only one… struggling still… with all that happened." He says as he sets his mug on the little coffee table in front of you. It's very small, mostly for decoration. Only space for the two mugs you're using at the moment. Izuku then lays his elbows over his knees, fingers fidgeting in the middle clearly showing his nervousness. "I have nightmares. Very bad ones, since the war. Uraraka used to help a lot, she was always there for me when I needed her."
This is the first time he talks about her this willingly, so you just keep silent and give him the space he needs to say whatever he wants.
"I was finally getting better… and then… she wasn't there anymore…"
"The nightmares came back?" He simply nods. You can't help yourself but to direct your hand towards his shoulder in a form of comfort, which he accepts with a small smile.
"I guess… we are two broken people, trying to pick up the pieces left. Aren't we?"
His eyes shine with tears he refuses to set free, probably also what your own looked like. He smiles sadly at you, before patting your hand that still holds his shoulder.
You both stay in silence for a little while before Izuku breaks the silence again.
"I'm sorry about today. I had…" He sighs. "I had a discussion with a partner."
Partner? You know Izuku doesn't have many partners. One is Hero Shoto, who also is his best friend. You doubt he had a discussion with him, you couldn't actually see Shoto in a heated discussion at all. And the other one is… Oh .
"What did he do now?" You don't even have to mention his name. You and Izuku know who you're talking about.
The green-haired man rolls his eyes. "We have been civil. For the sake of everybody around us. And if I'm being honest, we work well together. In fights, we understand each other perfectly. So we decided to just be professional and not bring up anything that happened."
You know this. Izuku had already told you this once, when he called you on his lunch break to talk to you about a cute little butterfly that he would send you the picture of when he was less busy and you heard Bakugou's voice on the back calling for Izuku. They had been on a mission together.
"Until…" Izuku continues, "Until this morning, when he decided to bring up our Friday morning's coffee."
" What?! " You frown. How did he know? Nobody knew, besides Mineta and probably Shoto on Izuku's side. Nobody else knew… unless…
"Paparazzis discovered us. I don't know how. I'm always careful when meeting you. I take a lot of turns and I disguise myself the best I can so they don't recognize me. But they found out." He sighs, a hand sliding his green and black curls back. "They released an article yesterday. About us."
Izuku takes out his phone, searching for something before showing it to you.
NEWLY BACHELOR, NUMBER ONE PRO HERO DEKU, FOUNDS NEW SWEETHEART?
Yes, my readers, this is apparently what it looks like. A young, pretty lady like this caught the attention of the Symbol of Hope quite fast, if you ask for my humble opinion.
We don't have much information about her, sadly. Only that this lady has our favorite Pro Hero on her clutches... Look at the way he looks at her in the following pictures!
Isn't it cute? Let me be honest, as a fan of Deku myself, I can't avoid feeling a bit heartbroken, but I also think that this man deserves all the happiness anyone can give him. Don't you agree? And after that sudden break up with Pro Hero Uravity that caught everyone by surprise, makes me think… Does this lady have anything to do with it? Did she catch Pro Hero Deku's heart from before, causing the break up? Mmm, so many questions, readers, that we don't have the answers yet! But no mind, we will try our best to find them! Be patient, and in the meantime, show a bit of support for our favorite Number One Hero.
You feel like vomiting. Your picture, clear as day, has never been on the front page of a magazine. Bakugou has always protected his privacy so meticulously, and that included you. The media and his fans knew he had a relationship, but he never let anyone get a glimpse of it.
And here you are now, on the front page of Go-zzip Hero magazine, the picture showing you sitting in front of Izuku in that coffee shop, talking so close to his face it practically looks like you're kissing. Oh, shit . You do that? You actually speak that close to him??
You swallow thickly, looking back up at Izuku.
"I am so sorry, Izuku, I didn't know."
"Of course you didn't know. None of us did. But I'm sorry I wasn't more careful…"
"Don't be silly. This is not your fault."
"Yours either."
You both smile shyly at each other. This is… chaotic. Being involved with him is… OH, SHIT.
"What? What is it?" He asks as he sees your eyes open wide in fear.
"Your fans are gonna kill me..."
"No, they aren't…"
"Yes, they are! Oh my God!" You stand, after putting your mug over the table next to his, a bit wobbly on the legs which makes him react fast to hold you if you fall, but you don't. You start walking one way to the other of your small living room. "I'm so food for the fishes… they are going to kill me!"
Izuku chuckles. "No, they aren't, Y/N…"
"Don't laugh! Yes, they are! Especially after what that journalist said! They even hinted that probably I was the reason you broke up with Uraraka!"
"Which is not true. I'll call my manager and PR team and ask for an interview with the magazine and clarify this. You don't have anything to worry about. Neither does Mineta. I'll clarify that we are just friends…"
That makes you freeze in place, frowning. "Mineta? What does he have to do with this?"
Izuku frowns too, looking confused at you. "Aren't you… Isn't he… Aren't you dating ?"
"WHAT?!" By Izuku's flinching, you realize you raised your tone a bit louder than you intended. "Sorry…Mineta is my best friend, Izuku. He's like a brother to me."
Izuku looks so confused, "But… But you always speak about him. He cooks for you, he is… he is here almost everyday for you, and he did all that stuff to piss off Bakugou for you, like a…"
"Like a brother would." You smile. "I do think that somehow our souls are connected, because I know I could leave apart from anyone, except him . He's that annoying sticky thing you get used to living with and don't want to unstick, because if you do something will miss. Because he's my brother. I wouldn't be able to live without his annoying ass." Izuku laughs with you. You walk back to sitting next to him as silence comes back. Then, you keep talking, "Mineta has been there when I had no one. Even when we were five years old and my parents died in a car accident, provoked by a hero-villain fight." Deku tenses, but keeps his attention on you. "We used to play heroes when we were kids and fantasize about how we were going to be Number One. Both of us, together. And then the accident happened. I was left alone. I didn't have much family around, only my old great-grandma that was barely suitable to raise a child. So I was given to the state. I went to an orphanage."
You don't know why you're baring your soul to Izuku like this. This was a painful, very intimate part of your history nobody knew but Mineta. Not even Bakugou knew. He never insisted for you to tell him. He simply accepted that you were Mineta's best friend, end of sentence. He never questioned anything. Now you wonder if that was a good or a bad thing.
"That's when your panic attacks began?" He asks a bit timidly. You nod.
"It happened that same day, when I was given the news about their deaths. A kind lady had been there with me, explaining what it all meant. She was kind, but she didn't have much experience. Imagine walking into a room as a kid where your parents are lying dead in two stretchers and being told these are your parents and you're not gonna see them anymore ." Izuku flinches again, a chill clearly running down his back. "A few hours later, I had my first panic attack. I lost consciousness for almost an hour. It was the longest one I ever had and doctors were worried not enough oxygen had gone to my brain, considering that even when I woke up I wasn't talking to anyone."
"Until Mineta and Auntie Asiki came to see me at the hospital. The second Mineta lay down next to me in the hospital bed, I started crying, and he held me. We were kids, not knowing anything about life, and he still understood that I needed him. Auntie Asiki offered to bring me home with her and Mineta, but the forms to the orphanage had already been filled and accepted. It would take a lot of money, lawyers and procedures to let her, a single mother, take my custody. And while her heart and intentions were hugely appreciated for even thinking about it, it was impossible."
"I didn't know Mineta's mom was a single mother." Izuku frowns, probably guilting himself about it, because of everything they, as class A, had been through their years at UA.
"He doesn't like speaking about it. He really has to trust you to tell you about it."
Izuku nods, instantly respecting that decision. He then scratches his neck again. 
"So, you and him are not…"
You chuckle. "Not even if he was the last man on Earth." Izuku laughs too.
" Ouch , that wounds me so deep, bun," Mineta's voice is heard from the entrance as he walks inside your apartment.
Shit , you haven't heard him at all. The worry on your face is visible, because you have been talking about him, about his private life, and you hadn't consulted him before. You feel so bad, so worried he'll get mad at you.  
Mineta sees you and simply shrugs, "It's okay, bun, I trust Midoriya." He then winks at you and you feel the worry disappear completely.
"Thank you, Mineta. I promise I won't speak about it to anyone."
"It's okay," Mineta answers Izuku, pulling his thumb up in his direction. You smile watching their interaction. "I'm not here though to have this conversation." Your best friend gets closer to where you are, a worried expression on his face. "I was told you had another one, in the middle of the street.." You sigh, looking down at your hands that lay in your lap. "Was it because of him again?"
You nod and Mineta is the one who sighs this time.
"About Bakugou?" Izuku asks then, frowning.
You nod again. "My therapist is helping, but yes, they appear after I remember something, random things he once had said to me."
"Why it doesn't fucking surprise me…" Izuku barks as he stands from the couch and walks, just like you had moments ago. Mineta opens his eyes wide, watching amused at Izuku's reaction.
"He's such a fucking jerk… But we already knew that, didn't we?" 
Izuku immediately agrees with Mineta.
"I should have punched him harder," Izuku's comment makes you choke on the tea you were about to swallow.
"You what?!" Both you and Mineta speak at the same time. You look worried about the whole situation, the discussion clearly hadn't been a simple one if there had been fists involved. Mineta looks like a kid given the awaited present on his birthday.
"What really happened, Izuku?" You ask, worry clear on your tone.
"He saw the article, clearly. I came back from night patrol and was changing in the locker rooms, the whole night shift was there preparing to go home at the same time the morning shift was getting ready to start their patrols. And he started making comments about you and me, about how I apparently like his leftovers, about how you are a gold digger and now went for me."
"He did not fucking say that!" Mineta stands up, ready to beat some ass, Bakugou's, specifically.
"He did! I couldn't not do anything. I tried to be civil and only told him to stop talking about us, that he didn't know anything. And I told him to stop playing the victim, because he was none. The only victims in this story are you and me," Izuku looks at you like he's assuring you, "They don't have the right to even comment on this." 
"Hell yeah, Midoriya!" Mineta cheers, raising his hand for Izuku to high five him, and the green-haired does, animated. You shake your head trying to hold your smile back. "What did corn-head say then?"
Izuku laughs at Mineta's nickname for Bakugou, bumping his fist again with the man in agreement.
You roll your eyes. Jesus , men are such idiots with nicknames. 
"He then said that… I don't know if I should repeat it…" Izuku and Mineta both look at you, Mineta already intuitively knows.
"He talked… he talked about our sex life, didn't he?" You ask after a minute of silence.
Izuku nods.
"Tell me you did punch him hard though…" Mineta is fuming, you can see the smoke coming out his ears, metaphorically. 
"Of course I did. Twice, before someone pushed me away."
"Well done, man." Mineta high fives Izuku again.
"You shouldn't… you didn't have to…"
"I won't let him or anybody speak about you that way, Y/N. Now that I know all you've been through, I won't even give them a chance to."
You move before you think, again. One second you're seated on the couch, and the next you're hugging Izuku. Arms around his neck strongly, as your face hides in your arm and his shoulder. It takes him a second, but he reacts by hugging back, strong arms surrounding your waist as delicately as he can, but also firm and securely.
You heard Mineta walk out of the living room towards the kitchen to entertain himself with anything.
And you feel… safe . You feel so safe in Izuku's arms, it's so comforting and nice.
You feel him take a deep breath over your head, as if your smell was comforting to him. You like that idea. That at least in something so insignificant like your smell, he finds comfort and peace. Relax and ease.
"Thank you, Izuku," you whisper only for him to listen.
He shakes his head, "You have nothing to thank me for."
"I do, though. Not only for those punches," you say backing away just a bit so you can see his face. He smiles proudly at the mention of the punches. "But because you helped me with my panic attacks… Twice."
"Twice?" He asks confusedly, but you nod.
"The first Friday we went to have a coffee, remember?" He nods, "I was waiting, and because it was my first time out of my apartment without Mineta I was feeling overwhelmed and… and then you appeared at the door. And all I felt was relief… I felt safe with you there, so it stopped even before it began."
You are looking at his eyes, and you can see the emotion in them as you speak. He then rests his forehead on yours and takes a deep breath, clearly pushing his emotion back in so he can speak.
"I'll be there for you… I want to be there for you, if you want me…"
"I want you," you immediately answer, "I want you to be here."
"Then I will."
"I also want to be there for you," you scratch the back of his head softly, as he bites his bottom lip, taking a deep breath. He looks like he's trying to control himself from doing something then and there, and that makes you smile.
"I want you . I want you to be there too." He repeats your exact same words, making you feel tingles all over your body as you feel his fingertips caress lightly, timidly, the bit of skin showing at your waist.
"Then I will."
You feel him moving, his nose caressing yours in a cute manner. Slowly getting closer, lips barely touching and…
"Sorry to be a cockblock, but your phone is ringing, Midoriya."
The bubble is popped , so you both back away, clearing your throats and fixing your clothes out of nervousness.
"Oh, yeah, ummm…" Izuku walks back towards the kitchen to search for his phone. "It's Shoto. He's probably heard already about the fight this morning. I should pick this." You nod, signaling to your room for his privacy and he thanks you as he walks there.
Your eyes follow him until the door is closed, and then they go towards the kitchen, where Mineta is standing, hip against the counter and a bowl of snacks in his hands he found somewhere, eating them slowly as he looks at you accusatory. A knowing smirk in his face.
"Shut up."
"I didn't say anything… yet."
You roll your eyes. "Spit it out." You walk towards him, picking some of the snacks on the bowl and eating.
"I have nothing to say, Y/N."
That's impossible, he always has something to say. 
"Or should I call you Ms. Midoriya from now on?" 
Ah, there it is.
You punch him in the arm and he laughs out loud.
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PART I - PART II - PART III
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star-suh · 5 months
Text
Enemies to Fuckers
Park Sunghoon x Male Reader 
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cw: enemies to lovers friends trope, university au, anonymous sex at first, gloryhole, implied musk kink, implied sweat kink, drunk sex, bathroom sex, hair pulling, creampie, dirty talk, fluff-ish end.
another year of studying at the university it's coming to an end and as always one of the brotherhoods will be in charge of organizing a party. This time it's the turn of the one that sunghoon belongs to. 
y/n was sitting on the grass listening to music while drinking some cold coffee. when he turned his head he saw that sunghoon was coming towards him handing out the invitations “fuck he's coming” he tried to gather his things as fast as posible and run away from there but two pairs of black boots stopped him from doing so. “do you hear that?” asked sunghoon to his companion “it's like a fuckass rabious dog it's around here” both laughed. “yeah and there's a bitch too. i'm looking at it right now” y/n mocked making eye contact with sunghoon. “son of a bitch” sunghoon was ready to punch y/n but his companion stopped him “what happened pretty boy? if you like throwing “jokes” at someone you gotta learn to take them as well” he winked and then made a disgusted face getting ready to go. “see you tonight at the party fucking pussy” sunghoon threw his invitation to the floor and went on with his day.
the rivalry between them began with that pathetic cliché that one was smarter than the other. every day the competition was growing, the tension as well and in the end it exploded with sunghoon ruining y/n's project ending in a fist fight where they both got bruises, cuts and a two-weeks suspension. since that day they cannot see each other and if they do they will say all the possible insults at each other and if they don't remember any more they will make new ones.
y/n was standing in front of the door that separated him from the party, the boy was hesitating whether to enter or not and just when he was going to leave he saw his crush, jay park, enter the party "maybe it's a good opportunity to talk to him..." y/n murmured as he crossed the door. 
hours have passed and he hasn't found jay. "he's probably fucking a lucky bitch" he pouted gulping the remaining liquid on his cup. he was getting dizzy and walked towards the bathroom holding onto the walls to not trip and die of embarrasment in front of the whole university. he sat on the toilet and closed the door. when he was about to fall asleep he noticed a hole in one of the sides of the bathroom stall “the fuck is this” he wondered watching how it had tape surrounding the edges.
he was getting ready to get out of the bathroom when suddenly a big veiny cock appeared from the other side of the hole.
y/n's jaw dropped and he finally connected the dots “this is a fucking gloryhole!! what the actual fu–”. “are you gonna suck it or what?” a kinda familiar voice asked. y/n's face and neck were red as a tomato it was the first time he had seen such a beautiful and appetizing cock, his mouth was watering.
“if you're not going to do something move out and let others do i–hngh…” moaned the other male. y/n kissed the tip licking the pre-cum and then swallowed all the shaft “hmpgh soo goodd~” the cock's smell sending him into a dizzier state. “you're deepthroathing skills are fucking amazing” growled the male on the other side “no other bitch has sucked me as good as you” he added thrusting his cock at an animalistic pace chasing that feeling, seconds later cumming inside the other's throat. on the other side y/n came as well painting the bathroom's floor in white. drool mixed with cum spilling out of his mouth while the cock keeps fucking him.
then the cock suddenly disappeared leaving a pouting y/n that wanted more of it. suddenly the bathroom's door is opened and both males make eye contact, mouths wide open. it's as if the drunkenness of both of them has dissipated. an awkward silence between them as they look at each other with disgust. “i can't believe i just sucked fuckass sunghoon… so disgusting” y/n broke the silence “that's not what you were saying before tho. you were moaning like a bitch in heat” sunghoon pointed his finger touching y/n's chest.
“don't fucking touch me asshole” snarled y/n. “or what?” sunghoon's face inches away from y/n's. they stare at each other's lips… it's a desperate kiss, finally the tension between them broke again but this time in a more pleasant way.
“your sucking skills are so damn good. i want to see how you handle it down there” a hand sliding down y/n's underwear and a finger started rubbing his hole. with his hands locked around sunghoon's neck while the latter kissed his neck y/n asked “i thought you liked pussies”. “but you're a pussy… fucking coward” he snickers. “that doesn't make sens–” sunghoon hand covered his mouth “shut the fuck up and let's just fuck, i'm so bricked”..
sunghoon sat on the toilet while y/n rode him taking all the cock inside him. “hngh shit” he growled “who would've thought that I was fucking my enemy... the worst of all is that he has such a tight and delicious fuckhole” y/n just trying to contain his laugh after hearing that focusing on squeezing hard sunghoon's cock “come on cream this fucking hole. m-motherfucker”. “what's the hurry whore? we have all the night. and i have a lot of cum to cream your fuckhole so many times” whispering that last part.
the sound of skin slapping being muffled by the loud music, sunghoon pulling y/n's hair so he can thrust hard “gonna break you and make you come asking for more” sunghoon's tongue licking a strip from y/n's neck till his upper back tasting the sweat “salty” he murmured pushing down y/n's head so he can fuck him harder.
y/n's velvety walls clenching on sunghoon's fuckmeat as if his life depends on it “ready to get your used hole creampied, slut?”, “hng.. yeah bastard be-be fast i want to go home now” he fucked himself on the thick piece of meat. the cock tip brushed that sweet spot on y/n making him see stars and cumming hands free, splurts of sticky cum covering the toilet's lid “oh my god… hngh.. that felt so– good..”. “i know, everyone always told me that” a cocky sunghoon proud kf his fucking skills pull out his dick, jerking it off and spilling his seeds around and on top of the gaping hole of y/n. then uses his cock to scoop it and introduce it again to ride his high, thrusting some times more.
the party organizer helped y/n to clean up and get dressed, then he put him in the car and drove to his house.  “you know.. kinda like it what happened tonight” sunghoon commented “wanna repeat it.. another time when we are sober?” … there was silence but this time it wasn’t awkward … “yeah.. i like it too…” y/n's blushing face being noticed by the driver “friends?” he asks … “friends” sunghoon shook his hand. “then as an act to celebrate this fucking friendship and because you shouldn't be driving while drunk.. umm why don't you sleep in my house” y/n offered to sunghoon who's eyebrows raised in surprise “..unm ‘kay but i'm not sharing a bed with you”. “of course no dumbass you're sleeping on the carpet like the filthy dog you are” a gentle punch landing on sunghoon's arm who just smiled.. ‘cute’ he thought.
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motherlvr · 10 months
Note
I just found your blog but I love your fics omg. I don’t know if you’ve received a request like this, so forgive me if you have. But do you think you could do a sickfic with the reader taking care of Miles?
i havent gotten this req yet, tysm for requesting!
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wc: 1k
Pairing: Earth-42! Miles Morales x f! reader (could possibly be read for 1610! Miles as well)
Summary: Miles has been acting off, so you decide to pay him a visit.
Warnings: established relationship, sick fic, cursing, fluff
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Staring at your phone's messages, you awaited a response from Miles. But he hasn't been responding to you all afternoon. He never does that. So, it's only natural that this raised suspicion within you.
Miles made the mistake of granting you a spare key to his dorm a while ago. Since you lived on the same campus, you decided to pay him a little visit. It's not like this was the first time you've shown up unannounced, anyway.
Walking down the hallways of your school, you successfully found his dorm. You knocked on his door, "Miles, it's me. I'm coming in." Putting in the key to his door, you unlocked it. Miles was seemingly unfazed as he stood in front of you. "Hola, princesa. ¿Qué tal?" (what’s up?) He said with nonchalance.
But there were a couple of indications that made you realize what his deal was. For one, he didn't greet you with a kiss. Matter of fact, he was standing a few feet further from you than usual. Even before you started dating, Miles would always leave a small kiss on your forehead or temple. And secondly, there were dark circles on his under-eyes that don't usually adorn his face. He was still indubitably charming, however. There was no denying that.
You raised an accusatory eyebrow at him, and he immediately knew you saw straight through him. "You're sick. Aren't you, Miles?"
He almost rolled his eyes at how well you could read him. "I'm fine. It's nothin', ma." He shrugged, but his voice was laced with a subtle rasp. Still enough for you to pick up on, however.
"C'mon, even big tough douches get sick sometimes." You hit him lightly on the chest and grinned at him. Entering his dorm, you asked him, "Have you even eaten anything?" He brushed off your question. Instead, he said,
"You're lookin' pretty-" trying to change the subject, but you cut him off. "Good try, Miles. Wait here, I'll be back!" You promptly ran out the door, Miles stood there dumbfounded.
Within less than ten minutes, you returned to his dorm as promised. With a whole bundle of supplies. "Alright babe, sit." You grabbed him by his arm and sat him on his bed. "Estoy bien, mami. Really. You don't gotta do all this." He told you. But you didn't buy it. Holding up the back of your hand to his forehead, you winced. "Miles, you're burning hot. Temperature-wise." You winked at him.
Unpacking all the supplies you brought, you gave him medicine to take. "This stuff is magic, it'll help you feel better in no time." You said as you handed him the bottle. Glancing at the bottle in skepticism, he told you, “I ain't that sick.” His voice came out atypically groggy.
Much to his dismay, you whipped out a thermometer and put it in his mouth. He didn't even see where it came from. Within a few seconds, it read an unusually high temperature. As you suspected. Putting your hands on your hips, you told him, "Miles. You’re 101 degrees. Take the damn medicine or else I'll feed it to you."
Miles always put on a front. A facade that he didn't need anyone, a 'tough guy' front. But you knew better.
He finally gave in and took the medicine, your eyes trailing to his adam's apple that bobbed as he downed it. Shaking off your wandering gaze, you handed him a bowl and told him, "I brought you some soup as well." Staring up at you, he accepted it. He looked at you with adoration in his eyes. As long as you were here with him, he'd look forward to waking up in the morning.
A few moments passed by and he said, “...Gracias, mami.” “Of course, Miles.” You replied, gently placing a kiss on his forehead. He backed away slightly and concernedly said, "You're going to get sick, ma."
"It'd be worth it." You carelessly grinned at him, and he was sure you could singlehandedly cure him with your smile.
The sun was already starting to set, so you decided to stay at his dorm for the night to make sure he was taking care of himself. Behind closed doors, there was no doubt in his mind that he'd stand outside in the cold rain for hours if it meant you'd stay here with him.
The next morning, you somehow ended up with his arms wrapped around your waist, your back snuggled against his torso. At least you attempted to keep a safe distance the night before. Can't say you didn't try. Stirring awake, you noticed Miles was already up.
But unbeknownst to you, he's been up longer than you'd think, silently listening to the soothing thump of your heart. Glancing up at him, he pressed his lips to your temple.
"¿Cómo te sientes?" (how do you feel?) He said, the rasp in his voice almost undetectable. You let out a small chuckle at the irony, "I feel like I should be asking you that." You replied. Waking up from your trance, you remembered that it was a school day. Looking for your phone, you asked him frantically,
"What time is it? We're going to be late for class, Miles." He shook off your fears, reassuring you. "Cálmate, princesa. We got time."
Letting out a sigh of relief, you relished in his embrace, not wanting to ruin this rare moment of quietude. Maybe you should've been more careful around him, but how could you when he was holding you like this?
It was almost a perfect way to wake up in the morning. You silently hoped you could stay like this a while longer with him. And little did you know that your wish would be granted. Just not in the way you initially hoped.
An abrupt sneeze interrupted the comfortable silence that fell between the two of you. You slapped your face with your hand. Groaning at how warm it felt, you exclaimed,
"Oh, fuck."
Needless to say, both of you were in this together. Whether you liked it or not.
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estoy bien - i'm good
cálmate - calm down
princesa - princess
gracias - thank you
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lazycats-stuff · 4 months
Note
I’ve been sitting on this a while but I requested a fic where male batbro reader wasn’t very emotional when it comes to death but could I request a second part?
The readers friend stops being friends with him and is rude to him because of him not being able to understand those feelings of others griefs and is makes the reader feel like a terrible person because that’s what the friend said, the reader trying to act like a completely different person to make up for it.
I’ve just had this happen to me before and it has made me feel like a freak for the longest time ):
I can make a part 2 and I'm sorry you were treated like that. You shouldn't be considered a freak just because you see death differently. Everyone griefs differently and that's okay.
Batfamily & male!reader - part 1
Summary: (Y/N) feels like a freak when he has a fight with his friend.
Warnings: mentions and talks about death, (Y/N) is hurt, Bruce being a good dad
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After the incident with Damian's animal dying, (Y/N) has been trying to be more sensitive about death, but it hasn't been easy. He didn't understand why he would have to change his opinions for someone's comfort. Sure, he could comfort you, but he won't be changing his personality.
But that attitude soon came crushing down.
(Y/N)'s friend had a death in the family and (Y/N) tried to be a good friend to him. He really did. But his friend didn't see it that way. He called him a freak and then kicked him out of his apartment.
(Y/N) was shocked when his friend did it. He stood outside in the hall for a few minutes, trying to process it all. Is he really a freak? Just because he can't tap into those feelings of grief? Just because of it.
(Y/N) called Alfred to pick him up, trying not to tear up during the call. He left the building, wiping the tears from his eyes, not wanting anybody to question him and make him talk about it.
He will break down in the privacy of his room, when there wouldn't be anyone. And he will lock the door too, just that so nobody enters the room while he cries. He doesn't understand why somebody would be mad if he knew how he would react.
He already knew he was different, ever since the incident with Damian's animal who passed away. Even before that, his relationship and view with death was aloof and not even serious. Death is natural. Every day we are closer and closer to our death. Sometimes, death comes quicker.
Death doesn't really choose when it comes.
Death just comes.
Alfred picked him up and (Y/N) was quiet in the car ride. Alfred was confused as to why (Y/N) was so quiet, but didn't really question it. He only started worrying when (Y/N) just made a beeline for his room and that was something that made Alfred worry slightly.
Once (Y/N) was inside his room, he broke down crying. Was he really a freak? Was he really that... (Y/N) cried softly into his pillow, hugging it tightly. Why?
He stopped crying once he saw the phone's screen lit up with a message. (Y/N) shakily reached for the phone and cried even more when he saw what his friend wrote to him. He threw the phone, not caring about what has happened to the phone.
He sobbed into the pillow. Why is he considered a freak? He is just different in that aspect, why is that so wrong? WHY? (Y/N) just curled into himself, crying himself to sleep.
But that sleep was short and (Y/N) was awake during the night, eyes burning from the crying he did. He swallowed with more difficulty and turned on his side. Should he change? Should he really be what others are?
Should he try to fit in?
Should he be someone he isn't just because he the society wants him too? Why? And for what?
Was that really his friend if he didn't accept him the way he is? And was he really that insensitive?
He tried to sleep more, but couldn't. He slowly made his way down to the kitchen where Alfred was serving breakfast and everyone was already there. He didn't look anybody in the eyes and was quiet during the breakfast.
Bruce noticed it and wondered what has happened, but has decided to leave (Y/N) alone, waiting for him to come to Bruce on his own. He would observe his son, making sure he is going to be okay. He wouldn't push his son, but he would observe.
And observe he did.
He watched how (Y/N) was slowly changing before his eyes. His behavior was different and Bruce didn't like it. It was far too sudden for Bruce.
He didn't know what has brought the sudden change. (Y/N)'s brothers also voiced their concerns to Bruce, seeing that (Y/N) was behaving differently and they didn't really like it too. It was too sudden for them to pinpoint when it has happened.
Worst of all, (Y/N) outrighted denied it. That either meant he was blind to it or he was fully aware of what's going on. There is nothing in between with (Y/N).
Bruce promised himself that he would talk, but how to breach this to (Y/N)? (Y/N) is probably going to blow up at him and then close more into himself. But if he doesn't talk to (Y/N), whatever that has been bothering him, will only eat him further and it would cause a big problem in the future.
And so Bruce manned up and despite his emotional constipation he is going to see what has happened with (Y/N). He won't push, but he has to see what the hell is going. Bruce knocked on the door, entering when he has heard a faint come in.
" Hey (Y/N). How are you doing? " Bruce asked as he closed the door behind himself. (Y/N) was in bed, curled up in a ball, just tired from all of problems and evil thoughts plaguing his mind.
" I'm good. "
Bruce knew that he needs to thread carefully now.
" (Y/N), we are all worried about you. You have changed and you are not yourself anymore. What happened? " Bruce asked as he sat down on the bed next to his curled up son.
" Am I freak? " (Y/N) asked and Bruce frowned at the question. What the hell?
" Who said that? " Bruce wondered as he put his hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder, squeezing it in comfort.
" You know that my friend recently had a death in the family? " (Y/N) said and Bruce knew exactly who it was.
" Okay? " Bruce prompted and (Y/N) took a shaky breath.
" He called me a freak and sent me mean texts. Why can't I be normal?! " (Y/N) started crying once more and Bruce leaned down to hug his son.
" You are not a freak (Y/N). You just can't tap into those feelings and you know, that's okay. Not everyone can tap into that part of themselves and you shouldn't feel sad or hurt." Bruce said, giving (Y/N) a kiss on the head and (Y/N) cried softly now.
" I think that your friend was just overwhelmed with grief and other emotions and I'm not excusing your friend and his words, but I think he got emotional and didn't think about what he has said. " Bruce finished up his thought and (Y/N) nodded into his pillow.
" Is there anything more that is bothering you? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) shook his head in no.
" Okay. Now, if you want, I can ask Alfred to make you something. You didn't eat much during these days and that's not good. " Bruce said and (Y/N) nodded.
" Anything specific? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) shook his head.
" A surprise then? Okay. You can take a nap if you want. " Bruce said with a smile and gave him another kiss to the head, tucking his son in as if he was a child.
When he stepped out, his four sons were clearly listening in. Dick and Jason tried to explain themselves, more accurately trying to make excuses to get themselves out of trouble.
" Don't. (Y/N) is taking a nap and don't bother him now. "
" What happened father? " Damian asked and Bruce ushered them away from (Y/N)'s room. (Y/N) needed to sleep more than listen to his brothers now.
" His friend called him a freak because he couldn't tap into those feelings of grief. " Bruce explained quickly and Jason and Damian became pissed at the friend, but Bruce told them that his friend is probably going from the place of grief.
Now, that was something that they could understand. Dick just wanted to cuddle his brother to death, but sure, he needs his sleep. Tim wanted to talk to the friend, but grief is a tricky emotion.
Damian and Jason were ready to kill the friend, but (Y/N) would kill them in return. So that was off the table.
" Okay, so how do we help (Y/N)? " Tim asked.
" If he wants to talk, support him. If he doesn't, don't push. He told me everything so he got it off of his shoulders. " Bruce said and everyone nodded.
Okay. That sounds like a good plan. As long as (Y/N) got something off of his shoulders, they are going to be happy. "
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