#Anyway I do hope you find some enjoyment out of this

[icewindandboringhorror]

recent lounging babey images

[arolesbianism]

Alright boys pack it up no more rain world posting new oni dlc is coming out in less than a week

[skywalkerslvt]

Rough Ride (so rough)

❥Pairing: RE2!Leon x AFAB!Reader

❥Summary: What happens when you have to sit on Leon's lap for a very long and bumpy car ride? Leon's pants get soaked 😍

❥CW: 18+, smut, sub!leon, dry humping, cumming in pants, overstimulation, crying kink, semi-public sex, sorta non-con at first? but both parties are consenting, 1.6k words

❥a/n: can you guys tell how much I like dry humping from the amount of times it shows up in all my fics? anyways RE2 Leon is so subby i need to make him cry so I wrote this. Also my requests are open if any of u leon sluts wanna request something 👀 Hope you guys enjoy! <3

Leon Kennedy was utterly fucked. Both literally and figuratively. He was approximately one hour into the grand camping trip that your shared group of friends had planned, and it was already off to a bumpy start.

It started with the excessive amount of luggage you and Claire had decided to pack. The trunk was bursting at the seams, and the backseat was already crammed with more than it could reasonably hold, leaving the driver seat, the passenger seat, and a single seat in the back free for its intended use.

With Chris driving and Claire staking her claim on the passenger seat, that left you and Leon with the single seat to share.

And when you whispered a seductive “I guess we’ll have to make do,” with a mischievous glint in your eye, Leon knew he was done for.

Before he could respond, he was shoved into the car, barely even registering that you were manoeuvring yourself into his lap, carefully trying to find a comfortable position.

At first, Leon was awkward. It wasn’t every day that the girl he had a massive crush on was situated on his lap, and especially not for a 2 hour long drive like this one. But as you leaned against him and whispered a soft “Relax,” he eventually settled in, wrapping his arms around your waist and propping his chin on your shoulder.

The first hour was fine, enjoyable even. Leon had managed to stave off a massive boner, and everyone had been happy despite the luggage situation. But issues started to arise as Chris turned the car onto a bumpy gravel path in the woods.

“We’re gonna be on this trail for about an hour and then we'll be at our camping spot. It might get a bit bumpy,” Chris muttered quietly, not wanting to wake up his sister who had dozed off against the window.

As the car drove deeper into the forest, the road became more uneven, causing you to bounce slightly in Leon’s lap. His cock started to twitch, the boner he managed to avoid coming to as all his attention was focused on that single point where your ass was softly bouncing on his cock.

Leon was flushed head to toe, his teeth worrying his lower lip as the rate of his breathing increased. His cock was now fully hard and leaking pre-cum in his boxers, and by some miracle, you hadn't noticed. Needing to feel more friction, he pushed his hips up slightly, softly grinding his hard dick against your ass, playing it off as shifting to a more comfortable position. He felt like such a pervert, getting off against your ass while you were completely oblivious, but the weight of you on top of him felt too good to stop.

He had managed not to make a sound, harshly biting down against his surely bruised lip any time he felt like moaning, but when Chris hit a particularly hard bump, causing you to bounce harshly back into his cock, he let out a barely audible whimper, right against your neck.

Leon stiffened, panicking as he was sure he got caught. You were going to realize what he had been doing, and you'd think he was a disgusting pervert, never wanting to see him again.

But as you turned your head slightly, concern etched on your features, and asked him if he was okay, Leon went lax with relief. You didn’t know.

“Y-yeah- Sorry I was just startled by the bump,” he stammered out.

You smiled softly, seemingly unaware of the turmoil raging inside him. “It's okay. These roads are pretty rough. Just hold onto me if you need to, okay?”

Leon swallowed hard, nodding. “Sure, thanks.” You leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, then turned back around and shifted your hips, moving in a more comfortable position. Leon’s hold around your waist tightened and his dick twitched at the feeling of you moving against him.

The car continued to jostle along the uneven path, each bump sending another wave of sensation through Leon’s body. He tried to focus on anything else–the trees whipping past outside, the sound of Chris humming along to the radio, the soft snores of Claire asleep in the front–but his mind kept coming back to the warmth and pressure of you against his twitching cock.

Desperate to maintain some semblance of control, Leon shifted slightly, trying to find a position that would ease his arousal. It was useless. Every movement, every slight adjustment only heightened the friction, the pressing of your body against him his own personal torture.

Minutes felt like hours as the car bumped along the trail, each jolt a reminder of the situation Leon found himself in. To make matters worse, you began shifting, unknowingly pushing your ass against his cock continuously, and Leon couldn't help himself. He just had to cum, so he began grinding against you again, timing his thrusts with your shifting.

He closed his eyes as his thrusts got sloppier, the building heat in his gut reaching its peak. He knew he couldn't hold out for much longer, and he was careless with his sounds, his heavy breathing against your neck becoming louder and louder.

Leon's body tensed, and with a muffled groan, he came, his cock twitching as he spilled into his pants. Relief washed over him, but it was short-lived as the car continued to jostle along the path, your ass still bouncing in his lap, overstimulating his already sensitive cock.

His breathing grew ragged, and tears began to well up in his eyes. He couldn't take it anymore, the friction becoming unbearable, and he bit his lip hard, trying to stifle his whimpers.

Despite the overstimulation, the continued friction of your ass bouncing against him caused his cock to twitch and harden once more, much to his confusion and frustration. The sensations were too much to handle; his body was a mess of sensitivity and arousal, and he couldn't stop the tears that began to spill down his cheeks.

Leon's mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, the overstimulation blending into a desperate need for more. His hips involuntarily thrust upward, seeking more friction, even though it was torturous. Each bounce of your ass pushed him closer to the edge again, and he couldn't understand how he could be this turned on despite having just cum.

Minutes felt like hours, and Leon's body was on the brink of collapse. The continued friction, combined with his heightened sensitivity, pushed him to the edge once more. He tried to stay silent, but soft whimpers escaped his lips, tears streaming down his face as he clung to you, desperate and needy.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, you turned your head slightly, a smirk playing on your lips.

The realization hit him like a freight train—you knew. You had known all along. Your smirk widened as you watched him, your eyes dark with arousal.

You leaned in, your breath hot against his ear as you whispered, "You've been such a good boy, Leon."

Leon's breath hitched, his body trembling as your words sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock. He was overwhelmed, his senses on overdrive as you licked the tears from his face, your tongue tracing a path along his cheek.

Without warning, you began grinding against him, your hips moving in slow, deliberate circles. The friction was maddening, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his overstimulated cock. Leon's hands tightened around your waist, his nails digging into your skin as he fought to hold on.

"You like this, don't you?" you murmured, your voice dripping with teasing amusement. "Getting hard again so soon after cumming. Such a needy boy."

Leon could only nod, his voice failing him as you continued to grind against him, each movement sending him spiraling further into a state of desperate arousal. He was completely at your mercy, and he loved every second of it.

Your pace quickened, and Leon's breath came in short, ragged gasps. Each grind of your hips sent jolts of pleasure through his overstimulated body, and he clung to you as if you were his lifeline. His tears mingled with sweat, his entire world narrowing down to the intoxicating friction and your teasing whispers in his ear.

With a final, deliberate roll of your hips, you sent him over the edge again. Leon's body convulsed, his cries muffled against your shoulder as he came for the second time, his cock throbbing and spilling more cum into his already-soaked pants. His tears of overstimulation turned to tears of overwhelming pleasure, his entire being consumed by the raw, intense sensations. You held him tightly, a satisfied smirk on your lips as you licked away his tears, savoring the sweet taste of his submission.

As the last waves of his orgasm subsided, you continued to move gently, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from his exhausted body.

Leaning in close, you kissed him tenderly, a silent promise of many more games to come. In that moment, Leon knew he was utterly and completely yours, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

When they finally pulled up to the cabin, Chris hadn't even fully parked before Leon threw you off his lap and bolted for the door. His face was a deep shade of crimson, and he mumbled a halfhearted excuse about needing to use the washroom, doing his best to conceal the completely soaked front of his pants. As he disappeared inside, you couldn't help but laugh softly, the image of his flustered expression etched in your mind. You exchanged a knowing glance with Claire, who raised an eyebrow in silent question. Smiling innocently, you shrugged, already anticipating the next opportunity to tease Leon further.

[purple-plum-petals]

Hello!! I see your requests for Homicipher are open and I got giddy :D (starving for more content) May I request fluff drabble for Mr Silviar? Maybe his s/o teaching him how to say "I love you" in human language? Thank you!

⊱ Those Three Words ⊰ || Mr. Silvair X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮   Character(s): Mr. Silvair (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (specifically Route End: Mr. Silver Hair 1), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and Horror-Elements), Cultural Barriers (Mr. Silvair Doesn’t Fully Comprehend Certain Emotions). Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Slight Angst, Pre-Established Romantic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~3,280 Request: “Hello!! I see your requests for Homicipher are open and I got giddy :D (starving for more content) May I request fluff drabble for Mr Silviar? Maybe his s/o teaching him how to say "I love you" in human language? Thank you!” Author’s Note: Mr. Silvair!!! He’s genuinely so pretty, y’all – it’s not fair. 😔 I find his overall character to be quite fascinating, and a part of me is really hoping the game gets a DLC or something to further expand on each of the character’s lore (and more moments with the MC, of course). Like game, what do you mean that some of the monsters may have been humans while others probably never were?? I desperately need more food… I headcanon that Mr. Silvair was either 1. never human, or 2. has been in the other world for a very long time, resulting in the loss of his memory as a human which could be why he’s so interested in researching them/maintaining the MC’s humanity. 🤔 But that’s just a theory – a game theory! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

Even after everything that had happened between you and this world’s resident human-enjoyer, you surprisingly still felt at ease with Mr. Silvair. That comfortability, though, made you think hard about your sanity. After all, it probably wasn’t normal to be comfortable around someone who enjoyed taking you apart and watching your body put itself back together over and over again. Yet, you did, and you didn’t mind your current arrangement as much as you probably would have in the past. 

Mr. Silvair’s home was destroyed in a fiery explosion (courtesy of himself), so you had offered to help him find a new one. You managed to locate a large room, one that he deemed satisfactory enough to call his base, and you had been staying with him indefinitely since then. As long as you had a comfy bed to lay in and someone else to keep you company, you were happy. 

Your other friends(?) frequently stopped by as well to say hello, the most common ones being Mr. Crawling and Mr. Chopped. While you were occasionally hit with a feeling of loneliness, it was hard to feel that way with so many friendly faces around. Well… maybe their faces weren’t that friendly, but they were kind and gentle with you, and that’s what truly mattered. 

You hear the sound of Mr. Silvair moving around in the room adjacent to the one you typically stayed in, and you wonder to yourself what his plans for today are. The tall, long-haired man spent most of his time engaged in research. You didn’t see him as frequently as one would expect despite the fact you two were practically roommates. All you could do was hope he wasn’t messing around with and subsequently angering any more terrifying, violent ghosts. You enjoyed your current home, and going out to look for another one wasn’t very high on your list of things to do. 

The Rubik’s Cube in your hand was still as scattered as ever, and it seemed like, no matter how long you spent trying to solve it, you were only able to successfully complete one side. Mr. Masque was kind enough to give it to you (he apparently had a whole stash of the things somewhere), and his gift was something you were immensely grateful for. Attempting to figure out the puzzle helped you pass the time wherever you were alone (and it most likely helped you keep your head on straight). 

You’re currently lying flat on your back atop the plush bed in the relatively empty living space, looking up at the gray concrete ceiling with a blank stare. Once you decide you’ve loafed around for long enough, you stand up slowly from the bed, placing the cube gently on the covers of the cot. You stretch your arms above your head, a strangled noise coming from your throat at the movement of your stiff muscles, and you begin to make your way to the other room where your… 

What even was Mr. Silvair to you? While yes, you were fond of him – hell, you’d go as far as to say you loved him – you knew he didn’t feel the same. You remember the moment he told you “I not understand like”, and that he didn’t want to save you from your condition, no… he found you entertaining to keep around, and that’s why he did what he did. 

It was complicated, you thought, trying to have a relationship with a being who didn’t grasp what the concept of love was. Deep down, though, you knew you wouldn’t change it for the world. He enjoyed your presence, and that was all you could ask for. 

You walk over to the metal door and knock, waiting for a response. After a moment, you hear Mr. Silvair’s voice echo, “Enter.”

The door opens with a slight creak as you twist the knob, peeking your head inside the somewhat grimy space. The room, still fairly new, didn’t have as much blood or gore as his old one did. There were fresh stains on the floor and wall, you noted, and you couldn’t help but wonder who or what they were from exactly. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, though, so you didn’t bother asking. 

You grin up at the taller man and give him a small wave, saying softly, “Hello. I not bother?”

He returns your smile, placing the scalpel in his hand on the stainless steel tray that held a variety of medical tools. It looked like he was in the process of cleaning the many, typically blood-stained, pieces of equipment. Mr. Silvair turns to face you and replies gently, “Hello. You not bother. Enter.”

Tilting his head to one side, his long, silver locks move when he does, cascading down his head and slipping off his shoulder at the movement. His smile drops slightly before he asks, “Feeling unwell? Injured? Need cure?”

“No, no cure.” You quickly say, not quite in the mood to be dissected or taken apart right now (honestly, though, you never really were, even if you did understand why it needed to be done). You pause by the door before finally shutting it behind you, the both of you now alone in the private and secluded space. 

Ugh – why was it so hard to say what was on your mind??

After taking a moment to build up your confidence, you tell Mr. Silvair while fidgeting with the rubber of the clear raincoat you wore, “I want see you. Communicate.”

He hums and smiles at your admission, walking over to you before placing a calloused hand on your face. Your eyes close on instinct, and your breathing shutters when he rubs his thumb across your cheek. A part of you wanted to be annoyed with him since he had to be aware of the effect he had on you, yet you didn’t want to run the risk of him removing his cool palm from your skin, so you kept your mouth shut. 

It had taken quite some time for Mr. Silvair to get to this point of physical affection with you (something he began doing more often after he saw how much you enjoyed getting head-pats from Mr. Crawling), so you didn’t want to ruin any progress you two had made in your complicated and unconventional relationship. 

“Okay,” Mr. Silvar starts, removing his hand from your face as he gestures to one of the two chairs in the room. He smiles down at you before saying, “Sit. We communicate.”

You do as you’re told without speaking another word, your hands folded in your lap after you sit down, watching Mr. Silvair take a seat on the chair across from you. You talk with him for quite some time, doing your best to update him on your current progress with the puzzle since that was pretty much the only thing you had going on in your life. While it wasn’t satisfying to speak in the other world’s language because it tended to miss most of the nuances of speech, it was the only way the two of you could communicate. 

Mr. Silvair seemed to pick up on your frustration, seeing you were growing annoyed at the lack of words in your arsenal – the term you were looking for wasn't coming to mind. In response, he tilts his head to the side and asks you, “You upset. Why?”

“Not right words.” You reply, brows furrowed when you look up at him, your gaze landing on the bloody bandages wrapped around his eyes. You turn your head to look down at the floor, the somewhat fresh pool of blood perfectly matching the color of the Rubik’s Cube. You point to the puddle and turn to ask Mr. Silvair, “What’s this called in your language? Can you tell me how to say this color?”

“Blood.” Mr. Silvair responds, not understanding what you wanted him to explain. 

“No, no.” You quickly reply, shaking your head. You continue to glance between him and the blood, enunciating your words even though he didn’t understand your language the same way you were able to understand his. You didn’t back down or give up, though, saying again, “The color – I want to know what color blood is.”

He pauses, one hand under his chin as he seemingly takes a moment to figure out what you are asking him. After a few beats, Mr. Silvair replies with a word you haven’t heard anyone speak before, “???”

You visibly brighten at the new word, and the expression on your face causes Mr. Silvair to let out a light chuckle before he crosses one of his legs over the other. You take a breath before telling him, “Okay. Thank you.” 

After another pause, you continue to speak, “So… One part object done, red part. Other parts hard – not finish.”

Mr. Silvair had been leaning forward in his chair, his elbow digging into his knee while his hand rested under his chin, holding his head up as he stared at you with an unwavering gaze. He always listened to you with rapt interest, and you would be lying if you said the constant attention didn’t make your heart stutter in your chest. However, he suddenly speaks, pointing to the pool of blood you had been gesturing toward moments before, “What you call that?”

“Huh?” You ask, pausing your story to look at him. Mr. Silvair doesn’t say anything else, though, giving you a moment to comprehend what he has asked you. You perk up when your brain finally registers what Mr. Silvair had said, replying to him happily, “Oh, that’s the color red. So, blood is typically red – blood red.” 

“R-ehd?” He echos, and the sound of his voice speaking a word that you were able to understand without having to flip through your mental dictionary had your breath hitching. It sounded so strange but so nice coming from his lips. 

“Yeah, red! Blood is red!” You say, sounding excited and oh-so happy. Mr. Silvair would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t find the look on your face and the tone of your voice endearing. Then, your expression shifts slightly as you lean forward in your chair, saying enthusiastically, “Oh my god – I just got an idea! Me teach you me language!”

“...You language?” Mr. Silvair asks after a moment, shifting in his seat slightly. 

“Yes! Me teach you!” You reply, gesturing to both him and you with your hands. Your mind remembers the way Mr. Silvair and Mr. Chopped helped you shortly after you first arrived, teaching you directions to walk, facial expressions, and more. They had helped you expand your knowledge of this world’s language, and they were probably responsible for your survival in so many of those early interactions. So, you smile at him as you say, “We same.”

He returns a smile, nodding his head and replying with a simple, “Okay.”

“Alright, so, let me think here…” You hum to yourself, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes while you consider what you should start with. Body parts seemed to be the first thing that popped into your head, so that’s eventually what you decided to start with. Sitting up in the chair, you point toward your hand with the other, tapping a finger to your palm as you speak, “Okay, so, this is my hand – hand. Can you say hand?”

It was kind of cute, strangely enough, seeing Mr. Slivair take the time to repeat the word you spoke over and over in his mind, trying to match the movement of your mouth with his own. Your languages were quite different in sounds, syllables, and the like, so he was practicing what to say before actually speaking. After a few moments of contemplation, he replies, “...H-ah-nd.”

“Hey, that was pretty good! Not bad for your first try, Mr. Silvair, even if the pronunciation is a bit off.” You say with a wide smile, clapping your hands together as you applaud him on his efforts. He chuckles again, finding your way of teaching to be… sweet. 

Then, you speak again, once again grabbing his attention. You tap the pad of your finger under the skin of your eye, asking him, “Do you remember what this is called? I think I’ve told you before.”

Mr. Silvair is quicker in his response this time, having heard you ask him about his own eyes before as he smoothly says, “Eye.” 

“Yes! Good job!” You praise once more, giving him a thumbs up in response. Then, he stands up from his seat, walking over to you while his once-white lab coat flows behind him. You crane your head back to look up at him from where you were still sitting, a simple and stupid, “...Huh?” leaving your mouth. 

Mr. Silvair reaches a hand to your face, cupping your chin gently in his hand. You feel his thumb resting on your bottom lip, and he begins to move his finger back and forth along the slightly chapped flesh, tugging at it slightly. He tilts his head to the side, asking you seriously, “What this called?”

“Oh, uh…” You know your face is probably flushed beyond belief at this point if the heat cascading through your head is anything to go by, and your mind and heart are completely caught off-guard by his sudden touch and question. You avert your gaze to the side, swallowing harshly before you finally reply, “They’re my lips – they’re, umm… similar to mouth. Lips, mouth, same.”

“...Lips?” Mr. Silvair asks again for clarification, his voice having an almost husky tone to it that has a shiver travel down your spine. 

You nod in response, muttering a barely audible, “Yes…” 

Mr. Silvair hums at your response, a small smile gracing his lips. He leans down, face so close to yours, before he inquires with an almost teasing tone to his voice, “You want touch?”

“Y-Yes.” You answer at an almost embarrassingly fast speed. 

The man who you had grown so fond of chuckles at your enthusiasm before leaning forward, pressing his lips softly to yours while he holds your face between his palms. Kisses weren’t a common thing between the two of you, and they were really only something Mr. Silvair initiated when he felt like it. You could feel the intensity at which your heart was beasting due to his sudden affections, and there was a part of you that was worried it would burst out of your chest right then and there. 

Your eyes flutter shut and you tilt your head to the side, your hands coming up to rest atop his – his hands that were holding your cheeks so, so gently. It was almost sickening the way he was holding you like you could break at any moment. 

Then, almost as quickly as it began, the kiss ended before you even realized it did. Mr. Silvair’s forehead was now pressed against yours, and he doesn’t make any move to remove his hands from your face. Your lips were no longer touching, and yet he still lingered.  

Mr. Silvair didn’t play fair, you thought, yet you couldn’t help but wonder why he wanted to kiss you so suddenly, so randomly. You close your eyes and your brows furrow at the tightening in your throat, an aching sensation slowly spreading throughout your chest like a disease before you whisper, “...I love you.”

There’s a silence, a stretch of nothingness before Mr. Silvair suddenly asks you, his voice just as soft as yours had been, “Repeat?”

“...No,” Your response is nearly immediate, and you shake your head before repeating once more, “Nothing.”

“...I love you.” The sound of those three words leaving his lips nearly causes your mind to implode. It sounded so sweet, yet it also felt worse than any suffering you had experienced before. The searing and excruciating pain, the feeling of a blade digging itself into the flesh of your torso couldn’t compare to the deep-seated torment you felt right now.

Mr. Silvair hums, tilting his head to the side as his thumbs continue to caress your cheeks, “What mean?”

You knew there was no point, no reason to try and explain your feelings again, but you do. You still do, even though you know it’s pointless to try. You can’t bring yourself to look at him as you speak, finding the concrete floor more interesting, “Mean… mean me like you. Lot like.”

There’s a pause, a moment of contemplation before Mr. Silvair says, “...Not understand.”

“I know.” You reply, nodding your head once in response. 

“You know?” He asks you, sounding somewhat confused, a tone you very rarely heard from the man. Had he forgotten that moment that you couldn’t seem to forget, the memory that you continuously found replaying in your mind like a broken record? It wasn’t fair, you thought, that only you were forced to hold onto such a painful memory. 

“You communicate before.” You clarify, finally willing yourself to look at his face. Mr. Silvair’s expression was tight, his lips drawn into a flat line. 

You needed to get away, to just run from this moment in the hopes he would forget the whole exchange just as he apparently did the last one. You take your hands and grab his wrists, removing his palms from your face before you stand up from the chair. You refuse to look at him as you turn, heading to the door as you utter, “...I’m going to go for a walk, so I’ll be back later. Goodbye.”

Then, you feel something tug at the sleeve of your raincoat. It wasn’t strong, nothing that would actually stop you from moving, but your legs proceeded to hault at the small action. Mr. Silvair says, his tone not demanding in the slightest – if anything, it sounded like a plea as he speaks, “No exit.”

You take a deep breath and turn around to face him, asking in such a small voice that it even caught yourself off-guard, “...Why?”

“I want you here.” Mr. Silvair responds quickly, so quickly it seems to have taken both of you by surprise. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he asks, finally releasing the material of your jacket from in between his fingers, “Stay… Will you stay?”

You once again find yourself wondering if Mr. Silvair was aware of the effect he had on you as a sigh leaves your mouth. You nod your head lightly and reply, “I will stay.”

“Good.” He says in response, a gentle smile on his face as he says for the second time, “I love you.”

You frown at him and shake your head, saying with a slight edge of frustration in your voice, “No speak. Not true.” 

“True… Believe true.” He says quickly, reaching out to once again place a hand against your cheek. You don’t move, don’t flinch away from his touch – you still relish the way he’s holding you like a fragile piece of glass. Mr. Silvair’s brows are furrowed ever so slightly as he mutters, “Confused.”

“You’re telling me… How do you think I feel?” You say with a huff, your hand holding into his as you find yourself nuzzling your nose into his palm. The painful feeling in your chest was still present, but it wasn’t nearly as excruciating as it had been now. You find it in yourself to smile, gazing up at him as you speak, “...but we’ll get through it together – we together. Right?”

“To-geh-ther…” He repeats, leaning down to press his forehead to yours once more as he says softly, “Yes.”

[darkbluekies]

Dr kry x nurse reader

Like imagine nurse reader was college student wanted to be a nurse to learn some medicine or help people sick and taking care old people

Sea sick

Doctor!yandere OC x nurse!reader

Summary: being the only one to be granted as Dr Kry’s apprentice on board a hospital ship ends in tragedy

Warning: yandere, sinking ships (fictional ship and incident), poisoning, indirect killing, mentions of dead bodies and autopsies, blood, sharp objects

Word count: 8k

A/N: a lot of people hav wanted a story where darling is a nurse and I have tried writing it so many times over a year, but haven't been able yo. So I tried changing location and it seemed to work, so it is not exactly what was asked, but I hope that it is enjoyable anyway!

He stands on the promenade deck, watching out over the harbor, breathing in the fresh air. People carried on stretchers catch his eyes. 

He used to get sea sick during his first weeks out at sea. There was something about how the ship rocked back and forth during the stormy days that made his stomach turn inside out and want to eject the food he had eaten. But now that he's been here for three months, it's barely noticeable. He hasn't thrown up for three weeks. A new record. 

He has grown to like the rocking motion of the sea, but doesn’t care much for the people he shares the ship with. The female nurses try to invite him into their cabins, the male nurses fight over who will be his apprentice and the doctors either watch him with jealousy or ignore him. It’s only for a few more months, until he has saved up enough money. Until everything is over. 

They’ve just picked up a town hall full amount of wounded soldiers and new nurses. Doctor Kry has heard that his new trainee will be among them. He scans the crowd of people walking towards the gangway, trying to guess which one will be his to deal with. He hopes that they are obedient — he has no interest in scolding them — and that they aren’t stupid. 

“Watching the fresh blood?” a voice asks. 

He turns to the side to see one of the other doctors coming out to look at the new herd. Doctor Hart is an asshole, always in everyone’s business. One could almost think that he was getting paid for it. 

“You could say that”, Doctor Kry replies shortly. 

“How many dead, do you think?”

Doctor Kry let his eyes wander over the crowd below. 

“Fifty, maybe”, he says. 

It’s a cruel game, he knows that, to guess how many won’t survive the trip to the mainland. But he doesn’t know how to converse with the other doctors unless he joins in on their sad games. 

Sometimes, he plays with the nurses out on deck. There’s all sorts of games tucked away in boxes, ready to be taken out whenever.

“I heard that your trainee will be among those”, Doctor Hart says and nods down at the group of waiting people. “Who’s the lucky one?”

“I don’t know”, Doctor Kry replies shortly and stops leaning on the railing. “I should go find out.”

He doesn’t wait to hear the reply. He’s not sure where to go for his trainee to find him, but he decides to go to his cabin — if not to be at a static place, then to get away from everyone. Him getting a trainee must be the only hot topic they have. 

He navigates the white naked steel corridors to get to his cabin. It’s hard to believe that this naked ship should be covered with polished oak panels, golden details and expensive paintings. None of that can be afforded to be lost, in case the ship is sunk. 

They have lifeboat drills every morning to make sure that everyone on board knows what to do. Since they rotate staff often, those drills need to be done. They’re boring, but handy. 

The ship is nothing more than an empty shell of what she’s supposed to be, stripped of anything that gives her personality. All that’s left is bare necessities, nothing for pleasure.

He opens his door and walks in. The room is small and only contains a bed and a desk, the walls bare steel. It has a rectangular window overlooking the forecastle and he can’t help but think that he has gotten one of the best cabins on the ship. He knows that doctors, officers — both military and ship — and a handful of passengers, get better cabins than  the wounded or nurses. 

Doctor Kry sits down by the table and opens his notebook to write. He has time to finish two pages before there is a knock on the door. It’s a drastic knock, as if the person on the other side of the door is either nervous or eagerly excited. He stands up, not knowing what to expect as he opens the door. Outside stands a young thing, with their hands clasped in front of them. You take him by surprise. You’re not what he expected — but then again, what had he been expecting?

“Are you Doctor Kry?” you ask. 

“Yes, I am”, he replies. 

“I’m told that I am your apprentice.”

He lets his eyes wander over you. You seem so … small? You’re younger than he had thought, and there’s something naive about you. He can’t help but wonder what events has led you to end up here. 

He realizes that he can’t have you standing out in the corridor forever and steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You walk past him into the small room and look around. 

“You have a better cabin than I do”, you say with a small — nervous — laugh, as if to bring some kind of humanity into the conversation. It’s as if you want to skip right past the awkward small talk. You grimace. “I have to share a cabin with five others. We only have a small porthole.”

Doctor Kry closes the door. 

“What’s your name?” he asks. 

“Oh, sorry”, you reply quickly, eyes widening with realization. “Y/N.”

Doctor Kry can’t help but tug at the corner of his lips. 

“Are you always this light-headed, Y/N?” he asks.

You look down in embarrassment. 

“No, doctor”, you say. “I am just nervous. I haven’t done anything like this before. Sorry, doctor.”

“Sit down.”

You look around for somewhere to sit and end up on his neatly fixed bed. Doctor Kry sits down on his chair by his desk. You fiddle with your hands in your lap as your eyes follow him. 

“You’re going to be my trainee, which means that you have to listen to me at all times”, Doctor Kry says. “The medical field is a profession that requires precision. One faulty move and someone could die. Is that clear?”

“Yes, doctor.”

“I’m responsible for you, so I don’t want you doing anything stupid, do you get that? No breaking rules, no stupid behavior.”

“Yes, doctor.”

He stretches his neck. 

“This doesn’t have to do with you but I will tell you this anyway, in case it should occur”, he says stiffly. “If any of the other nurses give you any trouble, you’ll come tell me right away, understood?”

“Yes doctor”, you reply. 

“Good. In that case, let's get started. A lot of people have boarded the ship today, and we need to check up on them. You might have thought that you’d get a day to settle in, but that’s not how we do things here. On board, things can happen at any hour of the day and you need to be prepared.”

You nod. 

“Good”, he says, pleased. “Let’s go then, we have work to do.”

When he stands, so do you. He walks towards the door and so do you. You follow him through the corridors like a puppy, in silence. You don’t say anything. Maybe this will work for him after all?

You come out to the main staircase, a pathetic excuse of what it should be, and walk up a flight of stairs. What should be the lounge is now an operating theater and bedroom to wounded soldiers. He can hear you draw a breath as you walk in. The smell must hit you, he guesses, the smell of pain and blood. 

You follow him around the open room as he talks to different men and women who have all kinds of painful injuries and sickness symptoms. You’re quiet behind him. When he’s done with his round, he takes you out onto the promenade to get you some fresh air. You hold onto the wooden railing. 

“That can be unpleasant”, he says, leaning onto the railing beside you with his elbows. “Especially if it is one's first time. You’ll get used to it.”

“I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to expect”, you reply. “I knew that it would be … bad … I just didn’t know what type. Tomorrow will be better. Now I know what to expect.”

You give him a small smile. Don’t give up on me yet, I will prove myself to you. You are weirdly cute. 

“Why are you here if you lack so much experience?” he asks.

“Good question”, you sigh. “Money problems, I suppose. My family has it rough.”

“How long will you be here?”

“A few months, until I've saved enough money.”

Doctor Kry nods. “Same here.”

“Is life on board tiresome?” you wonder. “What do you do out on sea?”

“Some play deck games, some write, draw or read”, Doctor Kry says. “Some spend time with the wounded. Everyone comes up with different activities.”

“I would like to explore the ship, see what the home I will have for the coming months contains.”

“If you want I can give you a tour.”

“Really? Thank you, I would love that.”

You follow the doctor inside again. He decides to start from the bottom of the beast and show you up to the very top.

The orlop deck is the one right above the boilers. The two of you shouldn't wander further below, in case of danger. The orlop deck contains a mailroom and the cargo hold. It's chilly inside the ominous cargo room. Wooden boxes stand in groups.

“These contain everything from weapons to medical equipment to food and alcohol”, Doctor Kry says and taps the top of a wooden box. “Some people — of the military staff, I've been told — sneak down here to steal some of it. I wouldn't advise you to explore down here. The ones you'll meet will most likely be drunk beyond measure and not trustable.”

“I understand”, you say.

“That being said, let's go upstairs.”

G-deck is filled with bunk beds, rows and rows of them. Walls that used to separate cabins have been demolished and left are the marks on the floors where they should stand. People are in bed, either sleeping or chatting with each other. They’re wearing bandage.

F-deck was the same as G-deck, filled with bunk beds and cabins. 

E-deck has a pool with crystal clear water. It’s a simple pool, only there for exercise. It used to have much more detailing, a children’s part of the pool and some children’s floating toys. 

“It would be nice to swim here”, you say. “After long hours of standing.”

“I think it is nice”, Doctor Kry says. “I haven’t used the pool yet. I think it’s seawater but, like I said, I haven’t tried the pool yet.”

Before he has time to think, you’ve crouched down, sunk your cupped hand into the water and taken a lick. Doctor Kry gasps and twitches forward.

“What are you doing?” he questions. 

“It is seawater”, you say. 

He grabs your wrist, pulls you up on your feet and shakes your hands free of the water.

“That is disgusting, do not do that again”, he says sternly.

You laugh slightly, meeting his eyes. Doctor Kry shakes his head, but has to restrain himself to not smile. 

“Get out”, he says, nodding at the door. 

You walk before him. Your youthful behavior is going to wear him down. 

D-deck has more dim corridors than the others you’ve explored. Doctor Kry stops in front of a steel door with his hand resting on the handle. 

“This room is the morgue”, he says slowly. “I don’t expect you to like this room, but I do expect you to treat it with respect. Don’t do anything ‘fun’ here, like you did in the pool. Understood?”

You nod. Doctor Kry opens the door. A chilly wind blows through you. You hug yourself. The room is colder than the winds up on deck and you look at Doctor Kry to see if he’s also feeling the cold. Along the walls of the room are numbered hatches. You don’t need him to explain what is inside them. Doctor Kry opens a door to the right, showing a small room with an operating table on it. 

“Have you ever performed an autopsy?” you ask. 

“Many times”, he responds and closes the door. 

“Do they get … easier every time?”

“Easier? I wouldn’t say easier, but you learn to shut off your brain. You’ll learn that too while working here.”

He walks you out of the morgue. D-deck also contains even more wards. 

C-deck has the first class dining saloon, now nothing more than a school cafeteria. The tables are simple, the chairs looking uncomfortable. A few men sit by a table eating. Doctor Kry is quick to get you out. 

B-deck has more cabins and open wards, along with an enclosed promenade deck filled with beds, where patients can rest in fresh air. There’s nothing left of the verandah cafe, the suites have been emptied and the hairdresser doesn’t have the equipment that it once had. 

A-deck is the only deck on the ship left with some of her old personality. The lounge has some armchairs and couches and the smoking room still has the painted glass windows. You look at the painted mermaid on the window. 

“It’s beautiful”, you say. 

“It is”, Doctor Kry says. ��I think it has something to do with Greek mythology, but I haven’t asked.”

The enclosed promenade deck the two of you had been on is on the same deck. Boat deck, on the other hand, has nothing enclosed. Nothing to shield anyone from wind or rain. Rows upon rows of lifeboats stand in their davits, collapsible ones are positioned on the roofs for easy access. 

“Okay, I think you’ve seen it all”, Doctor Kry says and sighs. “Not much, as you can see. Majority of it have been removed in case anything would happen to the ship.”

“Is there a risk of something happening?”

“The ship is painted white with a green line and big, red crosses. People know better than to sink a hospital ship.”

“But at night you can’t see what color the ship is painted.”

“I assure you that has been thought of. I will show you. Meet me at my cabin at sunset.”

“Okay.”

You knock at his door as the sun is resting on the horizon. Doctor Kry stands up from his chair a bit too quickly.

“Good evening”, you say. “I’m here.”

“So you are”, he replies and grabs his beige coat. “Let’s go, we can get dinner afterwards.”

You follow him out to the main staircase and up to the boat deck. The red shade above you is fading into dark blue skies. Wherever you look, nothing breaks it. You follow Doctor Kry to the stern where you have a good view of the ship. A strand of green light lights up the side of the ship, big spotlights turned to the red crosses. The green light gives your face a magical shade, one which makes the doctor stare at you when you’re not looking. 

“You can sleep soundly”, he says. “As you can see, there are lights showing other ships what we are. Now, how about some food?”

“Yes, please.”

The two of you walk back inside and make your way down to the dining hall. You don’t say anything, but the way your hand travels the railing down the main staircase makes him smile. 

You get a bowl of soup and a piece of bread. Doctor Kry leads you to a table full of doctors where he always sits. Not because he likes their company, but because he doesn’t want to sit with the immature nurses. 

“So this is your apprentice?” Doctor Hart says, eyeing you. 

“Yes”, Doctor Kry replies. 

You sit down beside him. 

“I’m Y/N”, you say, remembering how you had forgotten to introduce yourself to Kry earlier. “

“You are a voluntary nurse, right?” a doctor asks. 

“Yes.”

“What training do you have?”

“The absolute minimum, sir. I didn't have time to learn more before being sent here.”

“That’s why they’re my apprentice”, Doctor Kry says before anyone else has time to say something that could invalidate your lack of knowledge. “I’m supposed to train them.”

“You have gotten an unfortunate fit, Y/N”, Doctor Hart says jokingly. “Kry is a good doctor, but probably the most boring man I have ever come across.”

You frown, looking between him and your mentor. 

“I wouldn’t say that”, you say slowly. 

Doctor Kry looks at you with a small smile before taking a bite of his sandwich. 

“If you ever get tired of this boring man, I could always use a trainee”, Doctor Hart says with a small smirk. 

The other doctors laugh. You give them a small, uncomfortable smile.

“Let them be”, Doctor Kry says warningly. “You don't have to be an ass to the newcomers.”

He turns away from them, looking at you. 

“Don’t listen to them”, he whispers.

“Okay”, you reply quietly and give him a thankful smile.

He spends the rest of the dinner conversing with you, completely ignoring the other doctors. He asks you about your family life, the members in it, what your favorite memory is. For the first time in months, he's had a purposeful conversation, one he won't forget the second he leaves the dining hall. You've only been here less than a day and yet you've managed to put color in this white steel beast.

“I shouldn't keep you”, he says suddenly. “I suppose that you're tired. You should rest. I will see you tomorrow morning. Will you find your way to your cabin?”

“I think so”, you smile. “Thank you.”

“Be at my door at seven tomorrow morning.”

You nod. Doctor Kry gives you a small nod before walking away. His heart pounds in his chest, already looking forward to tomorrow morning.

Days go by. You spend every waking hour with your mentor, following him like a dog. You don't get why everyone else calls him strict, why some pity you for having him. And some pity themselves for not being picked. It's a weird feeling, you find, that everyone has a divided opinion of you and you have no idea who thinks what. All eyes on you, and none seem to be in your favor.

Doctor Kry is awoken by knocking on his door. Still in his drowsy state can he recognize the pattern. You have a unique sense of knocking. The darkness still covers the sky.

You're standing outside, wet to the bone, wearing your pajamas and a guilty look in your eyes.

“You told me to tell you right away”, you say quickly. “I'm not sure if you meant that literally but … I have nowhere else to go.”

Your voice dies out. Doctor Kry frowns, looking at your wet form up and down.

“What happened?” he asks suspiciously.

“They locked me out.”

“What are you talking about? Who locked you out?”

“The other nurses.”

What?

“Why are you wet?”

“They threw water on me and threw me out of the room. I-I guess that it was a joke but … I didn’t really … find it funny …”

He can tell that you're shivering, although you're trying your best not to show it. It makes him unexplainably furious.  

“Come inside”, he says and steps aside.

He's quick to grab his towel from his trunk and wrap it around you. You sit down on his chair.

“Did they say anything to you?” he asks. 

“Not from what I heard”, you reply quietly, shaking slightly. “Everything went on so quickly. I barely had time to wake up before I found myself in the corridor.”

“They threw you?” Doctor Kry asks, trying to understand. 

“Grabbed me by my arms and threw me out.”

“You must have hit the opposite wall in the corridor.”

“It’s fine.”

He feels his heart tug. His poor little apprentice, getting thrown around like trash. He knew that the nurses were assholes, but he is appalled that none of them even tried to befriend you. He knows that it’s because of him. In some way shape or form, it always leads back to him. It’s his responsibility to take care of you now. And, like hell, he’ll do it.

“Let’s get you out of those wet clothes to start with”, he says and removes the towel from around your body. “You’ll get sick if you keep them on any longer.”

He helps you remove them and dress you in his spare pajamas, offering you his bed. 

“Don’t go back to that room”, he says. 

“Why?”

“I feel like I am responsible for you and that’s why I can’t let you back there.”

“What do I do then?”

It’s such a simple question, but it makes him feel even more determined to take care of you. You’re asking him how to proceed. You trust him enough to let him decide what should happen to you. It’s enough to make him hear his heart in his ears. 

“You’ll stay here for the night, and I will decide what to do with you in the morning”, he says and removes the cover of the bed. “Why don’t you go to bed while I get you a hot cup of tea?”

“Okay, thank you, doctor”, you say quietly. 

“Of course.”

He smiles as he walks out, but the second he closes the door he feels a pain in his heart. He has been with you for two weeks by now and every day has been a pleasure. He can’t remember the last time he’s been this excited to work. Every meal, he spends it with you. He plays deck games with you on your breaks and play board games in the lounge at night. You’re interesting to him without being annoying. Everyone else gets on his nerves, being too much, too loud, too clingy and too … much. You, somehow, seem to be just perfect in every category. It’s such a rare trait for him to find. He doesn’t care that no one else understands it —  on the contrary, he finds it great that he is the only one you spend your time with — but he hates that the others are childish enough to mess with you because of it. 

Sea air must bring even the sanest people to madness. 

The morgue flashes before his eyes and he stops right in his tracks. He wants to. Oh, how he wants to. But there’s no way that he could play it off. On a secluded place like a ship, there was no place to hide a crime. Nowhere to flee if he did get caught. He’ll figure it out, though. They won’t go unpunished. 

He gets the cup of tea and makes his way back to the cabin.

“Drink this”, he says and holds the cup to your lips. “This should warm you up.”

He notices how you’re trying to take the cup from him, but he won't let you. Wants to feed you. You drink slowly. 

“What do I do from now on?” you ask. 

“Well, firstly, I will talk to your roommates”, the doctor says. “Tomorrow morning. You can take my bed, I will sleep on the floor.”

“No, I can’t do that. I’ve troubled you enough, doctor.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he tucks you in and opens his trunk to take out a shirt to use as a pillow. 

“Doctor, please”, you say. “I can take the floor.”

“Don’t be absurd. Enough of this, now go to sleep.”

There’s no use in fighting him, he will not budge. You try to lay as still as you can, but it’s hard to drift off to sleep. You’re unaware that Kry is awake as well, having an even harder time getting some rest. The only thing he can think of is how angry he is at those nurses … but also a particular happiness. They sent you his way. In an unofficial way they sent you right into his clutches. 

The very next morning, he awakens to find you there, in his bed, sleeping peacefully. He stares at you. There is something so heavenly about you. Something alive, among all this death and suffering. 

He changes into his uniform before walking through the ominous corridors of your room. His knock must have echoed in the room because he can hear a few surprised gasps.

He recognizes the tired face that opens.

“If you don't mind, I'll grab Y/N’s things”, he says and, before waiting for a response, pushes past into the room, hitting their shoulder intentionally. “Where are they?”

“Under that bunk bed.”

He follows the pointed finger and grabs a brown bag. 

“You should be ashamed of yourselves, you know”, he says without changing his normal calm tone. “I thought nurses were supposed to be caring, but what do I know? I never spend time with them. And now I see that it was with good reason.”

“What makes you so special?” one of the nurses scoffs. “There are a lot of doctors people would choose before you too.”

“I'm aware of that, and I'm very thankful for it. But you shouldn't forget that there is a hierarchy on board. I might not fall for your charms, but I can still get you downgraded to kitchen staff.”

He walks out. You're still sleeping when he returns to his cabin and he decides to go get you breakfast.

“Wake up”, he says and places the tray on the desk. “I've gotten you breakfast.”

“Really?” you ask and sit up. “Thank you so much. And thank you for letting me stay here.”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he gives you a cup of coffee. 

“I brought your things”, he says. “I don’t think that you should go back to that room at all. I will try to get you into another cabin.”

“Oh”, you say. “Thank you.”

“You say awfully many ‘thank you’s.”

“Well, you do awfully many nice things for me.”

He tries not to show how happy he gets, but his ears burn a crimson red. You get out of bed and walk over to your bag, looking around for something. 

“I want to give you something”, you say and hold your hands behind your back. 

“What?” asks. 

You take out a little porcelain dog, a spitting image of a Golden Retriever. 

“I don’t have much”, you say, “but I really value this little thing. Take it.”

“No”, Doctor Kry says simply. 

“I don’t have anything else.”

“Which is why I can’t take it.”

“Please?”

He looks at the little dog in your hands and the pleading look in your eyes. His hand reach out and take it in his hand, knowing that he won’t keep it. He will find a way to give it back to you at a later time. But he has to accept it for now so that you don’t feel stupid. 

He places it on his desk and gives you the cup of coffee again. 

“What will we work with today?” you ask. 

“We’re picking up some new people.”

Everytime they pick up new people, he’s reminded of your limited time. One day, sooner than desired, you will walk off the gangway … and someone will take your place. No. Never. He doesn't want anyone else other than you.

Among the newcomers, you find a child. The six year old boy seems to like running along the big ship's decks. 

You and Kry observe him from the promenade boat above.

“Why is there a child?” you ask. “Isn’t it dangerous to let a little boy run around?”

“His parents must either be military, a nurse or wounded”, Doctor Kry replies.

You let go of the railing. Doctor Kry follows you with his eyes as you make your way down to the boy. You introduce yourself, take his little hand and ask him for his. Nicholas. You play with him. Doctor Kry can’t look away. You’re a natural with children. The little boy seems to have genuinely fun with you. You’re running along the deck, back and forth. You pretend to have a hard time catching up with him, making Doctor Kry smile. He’s not much for children. They’re loud, unpredictable and lack consequence-think. He hates all of it. But you seem to have a natural talent for it. The boy seem so comfortable with you. It’s adorable. 

“Doctor!” you shout. 

“What?” he replies without raising his voice. 

“Come down, let’s play something!” 

He sighs and lets go of the railing before making his way down to you and Nicholas. 

“This is doctor Kry”, you tell the boy. “He won’t bite you.”

“Bite?” Doctor Kry scoffs. “Since when have I ever bitten someone?”

“That’s what I’m saying — you won’t bite him.”

“I never bite to begin with.”

“That’s what I’m saying, so what are you arguing about?”

“Y/N- … nevermind, I’m getting nowhere.”

You laugh. He shakes his head disapprovingly, but his heart aches fondly. You’re like an annoying fly buzzing around, but he doesn’t want to kill you. 

You play curling on the deck and you throw lamely to let the little boy win. He tries to match it, tries to follow your lead. 

The image doesn’t leave his brain for the rest of the day. The only thing he sees is you with the little boy. 

“Doctor, be careful!”

He doesn’t notice how he’s slipped with the scalpel and cut himself in the palm. With a hiss, he backs away from the man on the operating table. You grab his other arm and pulls him with you. His head is awfully cloudy. The only thing he sees in front of him is your smile when you played with the boy. 

“Sit here”, you say and place him down on a chair. “Are you okay?”

“Yes … yes, I’m fine”, he says and clears his throat. 

You clean his hand and wrap it in bandage. Your touch makes him want to pass out. But it also makes him want to yell in frustration. How could he slip up that easily? He has never been distracted during an autopsy and suddenly seeing you with a child puts him out of balance enough for him to slip the knife?

“You need to be careful”, you tell him.

“I know”, he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I don’t enjoy hurting myself.”

“I didn’t mean that, I know you’re careful, I just-”

He realizes that he’s made a mistake. 

“I know”, he says, cutting you of before sighing heavily and continuing in defeat. “I didn’t mean to sound mad. I’m not angry with you.”

He could never be. If anything, he’s furious at himself. 

“It’s okay”, you say gently. 

You let go of his bandaged hand. 

“It should be okay now”, you say. “But I don’t think that you should go back.”

“I won’t”, he says. “They need a steady hand and clearly my isn’t.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself, doctor. It happens to the best of us.”

He sighs and stands up, keeping his eyes on a point above your head. 

“Let’s go out”, he says stiffly and clenches his jaw. “I need air.”

“Do you want to be alone?” you ask. 

His reply comes short. “Just come.”

You nod and hurry after him out on deck. His entire body screams anger. You don’t dare to open your mouth, scared to upset him even more. Instead, you follow him like a shadow around the promenade deck. He suddenly stops and looks at you, as if he just only realized that you are still here. You back away a few steps to give him space. He flinches forward, as if his body wants to walk over to you, but his brain stops him. He wants to hug you. Wants so bad. But it is not professional. 

“Maybe i should go”, you say. “I think that you need some alone time to think. I’ll see you later, okay? Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“No, wait”, he says and grabs your arm. “Don’t leave.”

You look at him questionably. 

“Let’s just sit”, he says and pulls you over to the deck chairs. 

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” you ask hesitantly. “You seem a bit on edge.”

“It’s not directed at you”, he says.

“Okay, but you’re still upset. I know that you hurt yourself, but it’s okay, it’ll heal quickly.”

“It’s not just that.”

He never makes mistakes. He never slips up. You’re becoming dangerous for him.

“Do you want to tell me?” you ask.

He shakes his head and gives you a small smile. “No. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

It’s cute how worried you are about him. He gives you a smile. 

It feels like a dagger through the heart when you tell him that it is your last week on board. What do you mean that you’re going home? You just came here. His mind spins as he tries to come up with something. He needs you here on this boat — or wherever he is — to work properly. Both figuratively and literally. He feels like he performs better, both in the operating theater and as a human. 

The cut on his hand has healed by now, but he can still feel the burning sensation of your fingers against his skin. He can’t — won't — forget it. He kept the bandage, despite the blood on it.

You need to be kept here … and he needs to come up with a solution on how to keep you. He could make you trip down the stairs and have you break a leg. No, you could still return home with broken bones. He could tie you up and lock you in, but if you screamed loud enough someone would hear you through the thin steel walls. You need to blend in. How does one blend in, in a floating prison with wounded people. 

Oh. Of course.

He makes his way to the medical supply room, looking around for something — anything — that he can use. He finds a little green bottle. You shouldn’t drink it straight away, but if he dilutes it in water, it should be fine. 

He decides to mix some of the dangerous substance in your tea the following mornings. For the first few days, there seem to be no symptoms of his little poisoning. Until the fourth morning when you’re not at his door when he expects you. He gets himself dressed and out of the room, marching down to your new — own — cabin. He knocks on the door. 

“Y/N, are you awake?” he asks. 

“Yes”, he hears your voice through the door, your voice thick and hoarse. 

“Can I come in?”

“No.”

He opens the door. You’re lying in the bed, curled up with your arms over your stomach. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks. 

You shake your head weakly. “Not well. My stomach really hurts … I think that I’m going to throw up. I haven’t been able to go get a bucket so I’ve been trying to keep it in.”

“I’ll get you a bucket.”

He leaves the room. Out in the corridor, he can’t help but smile. It’s finally kicking in. He had been worried that it wouldn’t work until you had left the ship … where he can’t care for you. He gets a clean bucket from a storage closet and returns. 

“Let’s get you up right”, he says and helps you sit up. 

The motion alone is enough to have you throwing up. He places the bucket under your mouth, letting you empty yourself. 

“I’m sorry”, you hiccup. 

“It’s okay”, he replies. 

“I don’t think I can work today.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

He opens the window and sits down by the desk. 

“You don’t have to stay here”, you say weakly, leaning against the wall. “I’ll be fine.”

“You won’t be fine”, the doctor says. “I can see that. You took care of me, now I’ll take care of you.”

“It’s different. I just put on bandage.”

“So? You weren’t skilled for more. I am, and I intend to put my knowledge to use.” 

He stands up abruptly, deciding to start right away. 

“Let’s get you some fresh air”, he says. “This open window won’t do.”

“Doctor, I can’t move”, you say, eyes widening. “I-I’ve tried, but I-I … I can’t.”

He frowns. Has he done too much? 

“My stomach hurts so much and my limbs don’t seem to want to move.”

“It’ll be okay”, he says shortly and lifts you up in his arms. “I’ll do the moving for you.”

He walks slowly along the decks, so as not to make your nausea even more unbearable. He walks out to the enclosed promenade where rows of beds stand along the walls and places you down in one of them, making sure to get you in the sunlight. With a smile, he tucks you in.

“Some fresh air and sunlight will do you good”, he says and sits down on the side of the bed. “Why don’t you try to get some rest? I suppose you haven’t had much this night. I’m not going anywhere, you’ll be safe.”

You nod and make yourself a bit more comfortable. 

“It’s hard to not be nauseous when the ship moves so much”, you mumble. 

“I have the bucket, you can vomit as much as you’d like”, he says. 

“In that case I won’t vomit at all. Because I don’t want to.”

Doctor Kry scoffs with a smile. 

“I know”, he says. “Try to rest now.”

He sits by your side until you’ve fallen asleep. You are so unbelievably sweet. In every single way. Doctor Kry stands up to go empty the bucket. He walks out the enclosed promenade, out onto the open deck and throws the contains over the side. 

“What’s with your apprentice?” Doctor Hart asks, walking over to him with his hands in his pockets. “Rumour says that they’re sick.”

“Yes, they are”, he says shortly. 

“Weren’t they going home this week?”

Do not remind me.

“They were”, he says, even colder. “Not anymore. I can’t let them go back if they have some kind of sickness. Better for them to be isolated here where it can’t spread far.”

“Is it contagious?”

“Yes, very. I think that you should stay away from them — tell everyone else to be cautious and keep distance as well.”

He grimaces and quickly backs away from him, walking away. Doctor Kry smirks and shakes his head. 

And you consider yourself smart enough to be a doctor? 

“What are you doing?”

The little boy is back. Nicholas stands a few steps behind him, watching curiously. 

“I’m emptying a bucket”, Doctor Kry answers, trying not to sound short and cold like usual. You like this kid and if he’s impolite to him, he’s sure he’ll hear about it from you. 

“Why?”

“Because there was vomit in it.”

“Ew! Did you get seasick?”

He rolls his eyes. “No, not me. Y/N’s not feeling well.”

“Is Y/N sick?”

“Yes.”

He looks worried. His best friend isn’t feeling well? Doctor Kry sighs. 

“Do you want to come and meet them later?” he asks. “They’re resting right now but you can come visit when they’re awake again.”

“When is that?” Nicholas asks. 

“I don’t know.”

“How will I know then?”

“I don’t know.”

He doesn’t wait to hear more dumb questions. Doctor Kry walks straight back to the enclosed promenade and places the bucket by the bed. He sits down by your legs and takes your hand. 

A few days go by. He continuous to poison your tea, and help you throw up. When your body doesn’t want to do it anymore, when it’s too exhausted to work for your benefit, he has to help. 

“Alright, open your mouth”, he says, brushing any type of hair away from your face. “This will not be pleasant, but I need you to throw up, okay?”

You sit beside him on the bed with the bucket in your lap, hugging it tightly. Your unsure grimace is enough to answer. 

“I know”, he sighs. “It’ll be quick. It won’t hurt.”

“Okay”, you mumble and nod, opening your mouth. 

He reaches in with his fingers until they touch the soft part of the back of the mouth. Your mouth is warm and soft, making him feel light headed. As soon as you gag, he pulls his fingers away. You hover over the bucket for the thirteenth time in twenty four hours. Doctor Kry pats your back. 

“There you go”, he says. “See? Quick and easy.”

“Easy?” you cough, giving him a stern eye. “Nowhere near easy.”

“Okay, maybe not easy. Bad wording. But it’s over now. Good job, I’m proud of you.”

A sad smile appears on your face. You lean your head onto his shoulder, sighing in exhaustion. Doctor Kry tenses. His heart stops. 

“I’m so tired”, you whisper. “My body hurts.”

He hesitates before wrapping his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. Your scent clogs up his head. 

“I should be home by now”, you whisper. 

“I know”, doctor Kry whispers comfortingly. 

You break out into sobs. Doctor Kry swallows. He can imagine how you must feel. Body broken and unresponsive, not back home with your family like you had planned and anticipated … and you can’t do anything to stop it. Doctor Kry turns your body to him and hugs you. Holding you feels like heaven. You fit perfectly in his arms, as if you were made for him, and him only. You were born to be his.

“I'm sorry if this is unprofessional”, you mumble. 

“It's okay, you're sick”, he replies thickly

He closes his eyes, enjoying the embrace. It’s everything he could — and have — ever dreamt of. His own little patient, in his arms, where they belong. Only for him. Oh, God, he can never let you go. You will be here for as long as he is, and then he’ll take you back home to him. Whether you like it or not.

“I’m cold.”

“I'll go get you some more blankets.”

He dreads to let you go but he can't deny your request. Your warmth disappears from his embrace. 

He decides to hurry, wanting to get back to you as quickly as possible. As he walks down the main staircase, he feels the entire ship shudder and hear a loud ‘bang’. He has to grab onto the staircase railing to not fall over. The sound of porcelain crashing onto the floor in the distance hits him. He hurries down.

A man covered in soot runs past him. One of the men from the boiler room.

“The ship is flooding!” he shouts in full panic. “We're sinking!”

Doctor Kry widens his eyes. There's no way, right? They're a hospital ship! No one in their right mind would sink a hospital ship! His mind forgets the blanket. He needs a lifebelt. Not a blanket. 

He runs past the room where you had stayed first, and he can see the nurses inside trying to scramble their belongings into small purses. Without thinking, he marches over, shuts the door and grabs the nearest fire extinguisher to break the lock. He throws the fire extinguisher to the side and hurries down the corridor, opening the first door he finds. It's a cabin for female nurses. He reaches over one of the bunk beds, to a net where lifebelts Are kept. He pulls down two and runs out. 

The floor has started to shift beneath him. He can tell that it tilts to his left. She's going down by the stern.

He runs up the stairs, trying to push his way through a flood of people desperately climbing upwards. He wants to shout at them, but it won't matter. No one else will listen or care. Instead, he uses force to push himself through the crowd.

He has to get to you before anything happens. There's no certainty in how much time there is, but there is a certainty of death if he doesn't hurry up. 

He runs through packed corridors, ripping open your door.

“What's going on?” you ask with wide eyes.

There's something horrific with your fearful eyes. Everything about you is dull and tired, besides your panicking eyes. 

“We've been hit”, he says in a steady voice and forces the white lifebelt over your head, tying it tightly around your body. “We need to get to a lifeboat as quickly as possible.”

“What?” you ask in shock. “What happened? You said that we were okay, that nothing would happen to a hospital ship!”

He doesn't answer. If he does, he's worried that he'll snap at you. Instead, he lifts you up and carries you out of the room. He makes sure not to trip, but carrying you through tilted spaces is harder than he expects. Giving up is not an option, however.

The boat deck is crowded. He manages to get through to a lifeboat and sits down with you in his arms.

“I’m scared”, you whisper.

“It's okay”, the doctor whispers back. “Everything is going to be okay.”

He holds you tightly when the lifeboat slowly sinks towards the water, scared that you might fall off. 

Seeing the ship from afar as the lifeboat makes its way away from it finally puts things together in your head. You gasp. You had been on that … and if Kry hadn't come get you you would still be on it, waiting for death.

The bow slowly rises out of the water, dripping with water. The sun shines right on it, as if it is the ocean’s main attraction. The room where doctor Kry locked in the nurses is far underwater by now. He hides a smirk under his hand. He had promised that they would be punished for what they had done. They'd have a chance if they hadn't been childish.

“I never thought that I’d see something like this”, you say. “I never wanted to see the bottom of a ship.”

“Me neither”, the doctor replies. 

“Will many die?”

“No, not many. I’m sure of it.”

You creep closer to him, shivering although you don’t feel any cold winds. He holds you tighter. 

The only thing left of the floating hospital is a steamy, bubbling mess, filled with debris. It’s like you can hear her hit the ocean floor. You can’t help but wonder what position she is in, if you’ll ever get to know. If anyone ever will dive down and check. If that will be possible.

“It’s so silent”, you whisper and meet his blue eyes. “It shouldn’t be silent … should it?”

“I don’t know”, he replies. “What is the other choice? People screaming?”

You shake your head quickly. Don’t want to imagine that.

Hours go by. When the evening comes, you’re picked up by another ship and given blankets and food. Doctor Kry stays close to you, not letting anyone get close. He sits in a protective position beside you, arms crossed over his chest, eyes scanning everything and everyone around him. 

The little boy clings to a woman who you guess is his mother. He doesn’t seem to understand what has happened, how lucky he is, and you hope that he never will.

“What will happen now?” you wonder quietly.

“I will continue to care for you until you are well”, he says. “That’s what will happen. I will take care of the rest, you don’t have to worry about anything. Just lean on me and everything will be alright, okay?”

You nod. Doctor Kry smiles and straightens his neck. 

“Good.”

You look up at the colorful evening sky and sighs. No one died this day — apart from a few nurses who doctor Kry didn’t like, but he will never tell you that — and that is a comfort. But you’re unaware of the plans doctor Kry has for you. And maybe that’s for the best.  

[xiao-come-home]

Thinking about post-story Jiaoqiu trying to find himself in the new situation.. and getting even more clingier 🤧

warning: spoilers for jaoqiu's story if you havent played the new quest. possible ooc jiaoqiu?

Word count: 1k+

a/n: its been a while from writing and even tho im not disabled in any way, i hope its alright bc im kinda nervous to post this. i just think hed be a lovely pain in the butt to get more love </3

The new reality has been a true challenge for Jiaoqiu - trying to navigate through the house was already a tedious task, let alone cooking, but he wasn't going to give up so easily. While yes, he did miss doing things by himself - which, once in a while brought dark clouds over his head - the foxian managed to find enjoyment through doing tasks together, with your help.

It's quite known that Jiaoqiu isn't afraid of craving affection from you anywhere and anytime - especially now, considering he's limited in what he's able to do safely without hurting himself. Now that you're welcome in the kitchen to assist him, the pink-haired foxian can't help, but pull you flush against him while you carefully guide his hands to cut vegetables in even slices.

The healer slowly trails the tip of his nose down your hair until he recognizes the familiar shape of your neck - Jiaoqiu nuzzles happily into you, ever so slightly tickling you and giving you goosebumps; he smiles against your skin when you let out a comically fake, tired sigh, only fueling him to continue pestering you further.

He purposely takes his chin off the top of your head and searches for your ears so he's able to whisper, but when you decide to playfully confront him, Jiaoqiu only plays dumb and tilts his head to the side, asking you a seemingly innocent question, "Hmm? What do you mean, love? I'm not doing anything, the kitchen is not a playground, remember?"

There's a chance you'd probably believe him if you two were mere coworkers - but his twitching ears always give away his attempts to lie to you.

Jiaoqiu is clingy. Absolutely no news to anybody. That's when you finally get done with cooking, it's time for the cunning foxian to get a break; he stretches his arms to you, waiting until you put his hands on your cheeks. He cups them gently, rubbing the soft flesh with his thumb, and softly moves it to find your lips - his mind paints a picture of your figure, the shape and every crease his fingers feel; he smiles at you yet again, with a glimmer of mischief.

He wants to kiss you.

He also knows he will most likely miss your lips more or less.

But instead of feeling hopeless, he uses it to his advantage.

Jiaoqiu begins to pepper your face in kisses until he feels you try to get away from him and hears your angelic giggles; he kisses your left eyebrow - oh no, that's definitely not the place he's aiming for! He moves more to the right and kisses the bridge of your nose - oh no, not yet! The softness of his lips meets the apple of your cheek - oh, that's closer, but still not the goal he has in his mind...

After a while of Jiaoqiu purposely changing directions (and probably missing some anyway, but it's not like he complains about it, since he can kiss you more this way), with a little help of yours, he places a kiss on the corner of your lips, barely giving you time to breathe and finally, finally reaching his awaited destination, pressing his lips on yours; he gives you a few quick kisses if he feels like he still misses the exact place to change the angle, melting into a puddle with butterflies in his stomach.

Is it hard sometimes? Yes. The heavy weight travels straight to his heart, leaving him clenching his fists; the foxian hates the helplessness that hurts twice as much, much worse than the wounds Hoolay has inflicted.

Nowadays, his ears pick up your step way better, even letting him guess correctly what jar of herbs you're opening from the mere sound. He uses his tail as some sort of object detector - but he only waves his fan innocently when it makes you yelp in surprise, as Jiaoqiu runs the tip down your spine all the way down.

"Ah, I wonder what that was?" Jiaoqiu wonders, the fluffy ears twitching and the pink tail swishing behind him, "Is something wrong, beloved? Did you mess up the measurements? No worries, we'll fix it right away."

Well, if you decide to leave the house for supplies, you now have to hold his hand all the time. Just to be sure, he also wraps his tail around you, so he knows you're by his side and he doesn't bump into anybody. Hey, he's just thinking about the civilians around him! As a doctor, there's nothing else that matters more than keeping them safe and healthy... Right?

Even though he's been braiding his hair for years and could probably do it by himself again - being only a tiny bit off on one side, he cuddles up to you in the morning and presses kisses onto your neck, silently asking you to help him once you get out of bed - you certainly can't miss his hair getting all up in your face... and therefore, what he's asking for.

Does he feel a liiiitle desperate? Mmm, a bit.

Does he feel like he's feeding the helplessness in the back of his mind? Sometimes.

But it's worth to look for happy moments regardless of the situation - and you being perfectly aware he's doing it solely to get even more of your attention - makes him feel a little better with it.

Though, he knows when to stop and give you space; he doesn't want to actually become your burden, even if he lost his sight, he's still trying his best to stay as independent as possible in terms of daily tasks as possible.

If you're tired, Jiaoqiu waits until you hand him the brush and he's the one combing your hair; if you're too sleepy in the morning, he's the one helping you put on your clothes with verbal help, even if it takes a bit more time than usual. Along with you, he organizes medicines so neatly, it takes a blink of an eye for him to bring a full tray of medicines when you happen to catch a cold.

Does he miss being able to see? More than he'd admit.

But the more he thinks, the pink-haired foxian always comes to the same conclusion - it'll probably be harder to unlearn the clinginess once his eyesight comes back...

But for now, maybe it's alright to indulge a little more?

[reverie-starlight]

gn!ereader, no physical descriptions. FLUFFFFF!!! suna is worried about you suffocating/being a murder victim for like 2 seconds but it’s really not bad at all. reader has odd sleeping habits. I don’t like taking naps, but I imagine napping with suna would make it more enjoyable. extremely short drabble based on the position I woke up in this morning.

the one constant in this world, something suna rintarou can count on, even when everything else has been turned upside down, is you sleeping in outrageously uncomfortable (yet comical) positions everyday without fail.

he doesn’t know how you do it- he’s too much of a restless sleeper to knock out if the level of light is slightly different than what he’s used to, let alone while curled up uncomfortably.

but instead of trying to understand, he just takes on the task of moving you out of said positions as gently as possible.

he’s woken up to your arm in his face, your foot against the wall, halfway off the bed… he’s seen it all at this point, and today is no different.

now, suna’s chill about most things. he’s the calm to your chaos, the balancing factor to your anxious personality. he’s rational when you need it, which is most of the time… but when it comes to your safety, rationality goes out the window.

he comes home from practice to find you napping in your queen sized bed, arms above your head and a pillow laying over your face. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were a murder victim.

your chest is moving up and down, your fingers are twitching as you dream, but it’s not enough. he needs to see your eyes and hear your voice to settle the queasy feeling growing rapidly in his stomach.

he yanks the pillow off of your face, not even thinking about snapping a picture of this to add to his album of your strange sleeping habits, and gently guides your arms down to your sides. if he wasn’t beside himself with worry, he’d be in awe of how you never seem to lose circulation with your positions.

your eyes flutter open and his small sigh of relief is muffled by your sleepy whines. “rin? you’re home?”

he moves to hover on top of you when you weakly tug at him to lean in closer and flicks your forehead. “idiot, you scared me. the only reason I knew you were alive is because of your snoring.”

that wakes you up a bit more and you gape at him. ��excuse me, I do not snore!”

he gives you a look that says are you sure about that?

of course you don’t snore, every higher power knew better than to disrupt my sleep schedule more than you already do, he thinks, but he’s only trying to cover his worry up now that he knows you’re okay. you seem to catch on anyway and wrap your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry rinnie,” and he sighs at the nickname you only break out when you’re still sleepy and delirious. “thanks for caring about me.”

he kisses the very same spot he flicked earlier and then leaves a trail of them down to your nose, your cheeks, and finally your lips. “how many times do I have to tell you to stop thanking me for that?”

you don’t respond and instead pull him even closer. “nap with me, baby. you legally have to since you interrupted mine, actually.”

he snorts at the irony. his complaints about your restlessness while sleeping are all in jest, of course. he’d never dream of trading in all your quirks for one second.

“fine,” he exaggerates a sigh and rolls over onto his back. he just knows that you’ll want to cuddle into him as if he’s really the teddy bear you insist he is.

“but only for twenty minutes, we still have to be active members of society and do some grocery shopping later.”

you ignore him and nuzzle your way under his arm as he sets an alarm on his phone, using the beat of his heart to lull you to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

very short but I had to get the idea out. I have a longer atsumu fic coming soon, so stay tuned!

hope you enjoyed!!

tagging: @dira333 @emmyrosee @6okuto

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Like Lovers Do

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You and Daemon would dream about marrying each other before both of you became victims of political marriages, very much against your wills: he was sent to the Vale and you to the Riverlands. However, when your lord husband passes away, you return to King’s Landing, only to find out that your childhood sweetheart is now wearing a crown of his own.

A/N: I am finally back for the Daemon x reader fics, you lovely people! I hope you still remember me after that loooooooooong gap... Anyways, I once again wrote too much and couldn't even get to the point I was heading - I intended this story to be a one-shot but it seems I will be writing another chapter for the spicy stuff ;) I hope you enjoy it! (I am also open to any Daemon requests you might have for me!)

Warnings: I am not a native English speaker, strong language

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina

You had almost forgotten the way his voice sounded.

Fourteen long years had it been, the last time you were given the privilege to let your eyes wander on his handsome face as long as they desired.

You had expected time to have changed you in all the possible ways anyone could ever imagine, the years you had spent at the Riverlands being no different than a bird in a cage did harden you to your very core; however, the moment his sweet voice reached your ears again, you felt yourself melting just as you did when you were six-and-ten.

For the first time in fourteen years; for the first time after you had left King's Landing, you were feeling the warmth in your heart again, waking up from its deep slumber, melting the frost that used to be your heart.

At first, you hadn't even believed it when you heard the whispers roaming the castle about the return of the Rogue Prince.

"Prince Daemon is back," the whispers had said, "and he is wearing a crown."

King of the Narrow Sea? You had thought to yourself, following the crowds into the Throne Room. Is he going to challenge his brother now? Have the years turned him completely mad?

And now, you were watching him, King of the Narrow Sea, give up his crown to King Viserys.

He really is back.

After the ceremony in the Throne Room was over, the Royals and the Small Council moved to the Godswood to celebrate the Prince's victory over the Triarchy. You weren't quite sure whether it was expected of you to join them; however, upon seeing the way your father looked at you, you decided to follow them. Your heart was racing as if it was trying to break free from your chest.

Your father's position in King Jaehaerys’ and after him King Viserys’ Small Council had allowed you an easy, enjoyable life within the walls of the Red Keep, allowing you to share the early years of your youth with Prince Daemon, growing up alongside him.

Until he decided it was time for you to marry a rich lord and be shipped to the Riverlands, of course. You had known long before your father made his decision that you would, sooner or later, have to marry someone - preferably some lord from one of the Great Houses.

However, you had expected your father to come to you with this delicate matter first, instead of shaking hands with the lords as if he was doing some kind of trade.

"I do not care about some stupid lord in the Riverlands," you had told your father upon hearing the terrible news about your future. "I am going to marry Prince Daemon, Father. How can you even begin to compare him with any other man in the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Prince Daemon is going to the Vale," your father had responded in a cold voice. It made you realize he had wished for you to become the Prince's wife perhaps even more than you yourself had. "It has been decided that he is to take Lady Rhea Royce as his wife." Upon seeing the tears beginning to form in your eyes, your father had held your hands. "I am sorry, my sweet girl, but there is no other way."

Even though you had known all these years, deep down, that your father's only wish was for you to have an easy, wealthy life (and at the meanwhile keeping his good connections, and establishing relations with the strong houses), the anger you had been feeling never really faded away.

Yes, you had led a wealthy life for the last fourteen years; however, being the second wife of a (compared to your six-and-ten self) fairly old lord had taken all the happiness you had ever known from you. It was almost as if you had forgotten how to enjoy life...

After arriving at the Godswood - since the Red Keep was enormous, it always took ages to get from one place to another - you too poured yourself a glass of red wine as you stood beside your father. King Viserys and some other members of the Small Council were talking with Prince Daemon, mostly about the war against the Triarchy.

Somehow, it seemed like Daemon didn't even notice you were there, maybe he didn't really recognise you after all those years - you couldn't say.

Until King Viserys saw you standing next to your father, the Master of Coins.

The King's face lightened with a bright smile as he turned his eyes to his younger brother, placing his left hand on Daemon's shoulder. "Brother, you surely remember Lord Beesbury's lovely daughter," the King spoke with a delightful tone. "She has, too, recently returned to King's Landing."

The world froze around the two of you when Daemon's purple eyes met yours. Every other person standing there with you faded away, and all the other sounds melted into silence until it was just you and him, the same memory playing in front of your eyes.

"I am going to make you my Queen one day," Daemon whispered in your ear. "I promise you."

You were out at the Godswood, sitting under the moonlight - both of you had to be around sixteen, it was shortly before the calamity that was your marriage.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction. "So you plan on winning me and the Iron Throne?" You asked him, only to earn a cocky smirk.

"You would be surprised to see what I am capable of, my Lady."

I have seen what you are capable of, my Prince, you thought as you came back to reality. You were breathing heavily. Capable of winning a war without the support of the Crown, earning your very own crown - but you still gave it up to your brother.

To prevent the awkward silence from getting any longer, Daemon quickly wore his famous smirk as he nodded at the King. "Of course, how could I not," he spoke with a charming aura surrounding him. Taking a step towards you, the Prince held your right hand gently and brought it to his lips. "It has been many years, my Lady." The Prince told you. "Though, it is somewhat unfair that the years have not touched your beauty, not in the slightest."

The poker face, which only showed a humble smile fitting of a lady of your position, would never give away that you were, in fact, dying inside. Feeling his lips and his touch for the very first time in fourteen years had hit you like a wall of bricks.

"You flatter me, my Prince," you spoke with your best I-am-a-noble-lady tone. "Congratulations on your victory."

Before continuing the conversation with his brother and the other Lords, Daemon gave you a small nod - only you realised that he had allowed his eyes to linger on your face longer than they needed to.

[Time Skip}

"I wasn't expecting to see you here again, after all those years."

Hearing his velvet voice, you raised your head to look at Daemon, who was standing to your right. Fixing your silver dress and crossing one leg over the other, you waited for him to continue speaking.

"Why aren't you at the Rivenlands?"

You raised an eyebrow at the Prince as you responded while mimicking the same cocky tone he always used. "Why haven't you been at the Vale all those years?"

The edge of Daemon's lips curled upwards as he shook his head, he was wearing a red, long-armed tunic under his long, black cloak - proudly carrying the colours of his House. "Your attitude hasn't changed even in the slightest, love."

You rolled your eyes at him, keeping your attitude, not letting it falter under the heavy weight of the love your heart still carried for him. Of course, it would have been a lot easier to give into your heart's whispers and welcome him with arms wide open; however, you had grown overmuch furious with him over the years.

First and foremost, he had broken off every damn contact with you at an instant as soon as you had left King's Landing. You haven't heard from Daemon for fourteen years. News and gossip about his doings had reached your ears, of course, but not from Daemon himself.

And second, it had hurt you too fucking much when you saw he had done nothing to fight for your love. As the Prince, he could have had more of a say in the matter than you, but all he had done was tell you goodbye and disappear into the night. That was the last you had seen of him, fourteen years ago.

At first, you had thought that perhaps, Daemon had found the idea of marrying Lady Rhea Royce more appealing than marrying you. Until the news had reached the Riverlands about the Rogue Prince's failed marriage - not long after, he had returned to King's Landing, never to visit the Vale ever again.

Rhea Royce had never been what Daemon desired, and apparently, you too - else, he would have at least tried to find a way to arrange something, anything.

Placing your hands on your lap, you asked. "Can I be of further assistance to you, my Prince?"

"You can start by providing me with an answer, my Lady," Daemon said, arching an eyebrow in your direction. "Why did you return to King's Landing? Has your lord husband got a place in the Small Council now?"

"He has passed away," you spoke with a low voice while playing with your fingers. "A few months ago."

The Prince licked his lower lip. "I would wish to offer you my condolences, love," he spoke, "but I have never liked the sight of that cunt."

Your eyes widened with shock upon hearing his words, you hissed between your teeth. "Seven hells, Daemon!" The Prince shrugged in a careless manner. "Show at least some respect to the dead!"

"Will you be staying here?" he asked, earning a nod from you. "Why not stay at the Riverlands?"

This time, you turned your eyes away - his intense gaze was making you feel dizzy. "There is nothing for me there, at the Riverlands. My late husband's eldest nephew holds the Lord title now." Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward to pour yourself some wine. "You see, we didn't have any children to inherit my late husband's position, hence there was no more need for me."

Upon feeling Daemon's hand closing on top of yours, you quickly raised your head to look at him. Gently, the Prince took the carafe from your hands to pour you a glass of wine. With slow movements, he handed you the glass.

"I thought the whole idea behind you marrying that old man was to provide him with heirs," Daemon spoke, his purple eyes lighting with curiosity. He didn't even explicitly ask about the reason behind the failure but you could easily read it from the way he looked.

"We did try, for years, but..." Taking a moment, you took a big sip from your wine. "He could have tried with a dozen other women for another ten years and it still wouldn't have changed anything."

Daemon pursed his lips upon understanding the meaning behind your words. "I see, this explains why he didn't have any heirs from his first marriage, too." You nodded. "Good riddance, should I say now? At least you are free from that burden of yours."

"As if you cared about me or my burden," you snorted. Upon seeing the confused look inside his eyes, you first drank your half-empty glass - all at once - and then stood up. Raising your head, you looked Daemon in the eye, your faces standing dangerously close to each other. "It has been fourteen fucking years, Daemon," you spoke with a low voice but still, your fury could be heard in every word. "And not one fucking raven from you. You just walked away from my life, as if I meant nothing to you!"

Towards the end, your tone tended to become higher, thus you took a deep breath to keep yourself under control. From the corner of your eye, you could see Queen Alicent and your father taking a curious look in your direction.

With his left hand, Daemon held you firmly on your right wrist as he whispered, looking down at you. "You meant everything to me," he put emphasis on each word. "Don't you dare act as if you don't know it."

Your chest brushed against his with every breath, you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. At that very moment, the only thing you wanted was for Daemon to push you against the stone wall behind you and kiss you until you couldn't remember your own name anymore.

With slow movements, Daemon leaned into your ear, his warm breath brushing against your neck. You didn't even realise you were pressing your lips against each other - your breaths were heavy, your head felt dizzy and you slowly got drunk with his smell surrounding you.

"Do you have any idea," the Prince whispered in your ear, his voice full of sex appeal. You could melt right then and there, inside his arms. "How many nights I have spent, thinking about you?"

Back then, when you were both young and in love, Daemon had never touched you other than sharing small kisses (and rarely not-so-small kisses) for you wanted to wait until marriage.

In retrospect, you believed your younger self to have been too naive and, well, young - after seeing one could in fact do whatever they desired as long as it was discrete enough.

Now, all the lust and desire you both had been bottling up for years came to the surface.

Holding onto the last bits of your will, you took a step back, putting some visible distance between Daemon and yourself - so that you could think clearly once more.

"Then why," you asked, your voice sounding weaker than you wanted it to. "Why did you disappear from my life?"

The Prince cast a quick look at the curious people around you - some of the council members seemed kind of interested in your conversation with Daemon since they were sending curious looks in your direction every other second.

Muttering something under his breath - he was probably cursing at the nosiness of the people - Daemon quickly put on one of his most charming smiles. "Perhaps the lady would like to grant me the honour of dining with her this evening," he spoke with his velvet-like voice as he took your hand and brought it to his soft lips. The mild wind was causing his silver hair to sway ever so gently. "Where we can discuss further, as long as she likes."

Your heart skipped a beat.

Of course, you knew what his true intention was. This invitation was more than just a dinner where you could both scream at each other about the fourteen years you have lost - it was also to make up for all that time.

Your brain was shouting at you, telling you that you were making a big mistake - the Prince was still married, even though his marriage had been a bigger failure than yours - but your desires were stronger.

"I would love to, my Prince." The words left your lips before you could even think.

Daemon winked at you before leaving Godswood. "I will be waiting for you in my chambers, love."

[prettiedup]

hello!!! i hope ur having a lovely day! <3

i would like to request a nanami fic. maybe using the one bed trope??

thank you! XOXO

nanami has always preferred to do things alone. living, cooking, sleeping, organizing, everything needs to be done precisely and in his preferred way. working was also something he enjoyed doing on his lonesome. the way nanami moved was meticulous and it left no room for error. he enjoyed taking his time to learn his footwork and his abilities. as dreadful as being a sorcerer is, he has to find enjoyment in the littlest things.

“nami! i can’t open this!” you’re pouting and groaning in irritation while you struggle to open your can of cola. he glances to his side, you’re trying to use the tips of your fingers instead of your nails due to them being so long and squared.

“i told you to stop getting them so long.” he’s grumbling while taking one hand off of the steering wheel to open the can for you. once you hear the satisfying pop, a bright smile plays onto your pretty lips. 

“thank you, nami!” you smile excitedly while taking the can back.

he didn’t reply, only giving you a hum to let you know he heard you. you’re a nice girl, you remind him of something sweet. your personality is so bubbly and energizing, something nanami is completely polar of. even after months of working with you as both his partner and your mentor, he could never get used to you. you’re like a sweet slap in the face, he had stigmatized that the earth is cruel and evil years ago. and then here you go, prancing around all pink and glittery. 

when he first saw you, he thought you were a teenager, to give you some lead way; fresh out of high school. his eyebrows almost touched his hairline when he learned that you were actually well into your 20’s. you’re just a few years younger than him. he remembers complaining to yaga, to the higher ups, he was even so devastated that he found it in him to complain to gojo. 

“i’ve never needed a partner. i sure as hell don’t need one now.” he told gojo as he downed his fourth shot of whiskey. “and一and she’s just so fuckin’ opposite.” he complained. his pale cheeks were flushed red and there were small beads of sweat formed around his hairline.  

gojo has his infamous smirk on his lips as he listens to his ‘friend’ rant. “maybe that’s what you need, kento.” gojo tells him, honestly. “a reminder that you’re not even goddamn 30 yet. live a little.” 

if they wanted him to live a little they should’ve given him a vacation to the beach or something of that sort. that’s how nanami sees it, anyway. 

while you are just the sweetest thing, you sometimes are a lot to deal with. your attention span is too short, you become emotional when things don’t go your way, and you shut down too easily. nanami finds himself having to pick up the pieces alot when it comes to you. especially with you two being partners and the missions can sometimes be months long. something so delicate, hosts something so fiery inside. he’s seen you during battle. when a curse is taking too long to exterminate, when a mission drags on longer than told, when you accidentally break a nail from punching too hard. all those things tie together and create an absolute beast. he had almost felt foolish for doubting you the first time the two of you had gone on your first official mission together.

“nami.” your soft voice rings through his ears. he had a bad habit of zoning out, especially while driving. it’s become habitual to call out his name every now and then to make sure he’s actually focused. 

“i’m here.” those two words carry two meanings as he pulls into the hotel parking lot.

the two of you step out of the car. you stand beside nanami, watching as he pulls out his solid black duffel bag along with your hello kitty duffle bag. you continue mindlessly sipping on your coke even while he has to use his hip to close the door because his hands are full.

“you’re too good to carry your own bag?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows. 

“yup.” you make sure to pop the p. he can only glare at you. with a bright, unaffected smile, you blissfully ignore his intense, piercing glare and walk towards the entrance of the hotel. you stride confidently, with nanami towing closely behind you.

you walk up to the front desk and begin talking to the receptionist. she appears noticeably young, perhaps younger than both of you. her face is dotted with a variety of moles, along with a few faint acne scars. her upturned hazel-green eyes are striking, despite the dark circles beneath them. the contrast between her youthful features and the weariness in her gaze has you intrigued. you were a complete sucker for pretty girls. 

“we do have one more room available, but there’s only one bed.” she tells you two. her eyes sweep between the two of you hesitantly as she breaks the news.

both you and nanami freeze at her. usually, you would both get your own rooms and meet back up in the morning. instantly, there’s a pout on your face. the cheerfulness and confidence you once walked into the lobby with is quickly gone.

“how far away is the next closest hotel?” you ask.

“about forty minutes.” she replies.

you look behind you, at nanami; who seems to be calculating something. “what are we gonna do, nami?” you’re frowning and your tone holds a silver of frustration.

“we’re going to take the room. i get the bed and you get the couch.” is all he says. he steps up to give her the money.

minutes later the both of you are walking to your designated hotel room. nanami holds a look of nonchalance while you’re all pouty and frowning. 

he ignores it, he’s gotten so used to it. he knows your little attitude won’t last forever. something else will soon take your attention and you’ll soon forget about how upset you were seconds ago. once the two of you make it to the door, he slots the keycard inside of the lock and watches the red light flash green. he allows you to walk in first and trails closely behind you.

the room is spacious and inviting, a large king bed lies in the middle of the room, draped in crisp, high thread count linens and a plush, oversized duvet. soft lighting creates a warm ambiance, while large windows offer a stunning view of the cityscape surroundings. in the far corner,  a plush, deep set couch padded in soft, rich fabric, inviting everyone to sink into its comfort. the couch is surrounded by a pair of stylish armchairs.

“this is the best room so far!” you’re excitedly bouncing around and touching everything. you can barely stay in one spot before you’re moving onto the next. you open a door that leads to the bathroom. you let out an excited squeal when you see how big the bathroom is. “they have those drop-in bathtub things!”

you skip to nanami and grab you duffel bag out of his hands. “i’m gonna go shower!” you tell nanami before running back inside the bathroom.

𓊆ྀི ❤︎ 𓊇ྀི

“nami! jus’ lay down! i’ll sleep at the headboard and you sleep at the foot of the bed.” you try to negotiate with the man. this has been going on for a few minutes and you were beginning to grow irritated.

“the couch is fine. it’s big enough and it looks quite comfortable.” he declines.

“i’m gonna cry.” you threaten him.

“are you really going to cry because i prefer the couch?” nanami asks with both amusement and frustration. he was growing tired and wanted nothing more than to lay down at the moment.

“this is a large bed! i won’t be able to forgive myself if you sleep on the couch.” you explain to him.

nanami just sighs and stares at you. you stand there with your arms crossed, not giving up on wanting him to sleep on the bed also.he’s sure that if just goes and lay down on the couch you’d follow him and complain until he caves in to get you to be quiet. 

“alright.. alright.” he mumbles as he goes to the foot of the bed, far away from where you’d be laying. 

the both of you climb into bed with your backs toward each other. you’re facing the now covered windows while he faces the door. 

“g’night, nami.” you tell him sleepily.

“goodnight.” he replies.

𓊆ྀི ❤︎ 𓊇ྀི

nanami should’ve known. his eyes sleepily flutter open, he could feel your body greedily rubbing against his. your leg is thrown over his so that your clothed cunt could rub against his hardening dick. you’re letting out gaspy moans every time your clit gets captured against the tip of his cock. your face rests in the crook of his neck, dribbles of spit escape past your lips and land on his neck only for you to lap it back up. 

“sweetheart..” nanami trails off tiredly. he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good but you two had to get up extremely early and when you don’t have enough hours of sleep, you turn into a little demon.

“i-i know.” you whine. “‘s gonna be the last time, n-nami. i jus’ need you.” you sniffle. 

everytime is you two have sex you try to reassure nanami that it would be the last time. he knows you’re lying and he can’t tell if you say and genuinely mean it or if you say it to just quiet him down. he should’ve known when you begged him to sleep in the bed with you that you were up to something. 

“i need you!” you repeat stubbornly. 

he huffs to himself as his fingers slide down under your flimsy shorts. you thumb makes contact with your clit and you’re instantly bucking yourself against his hand instead. you’re so wet, you already have his fingers covered with your arousal. 

“don’t wan’ your fingers, nami. wan’ your cock!” you don’t wait for him to reply to your statement. your hands greedily dig into his sweatpants and fish for his cock. when your hands come in contact with his length, he shudders and lets out a low curse.

“greedy girl.” he tsks. he helps you shuffle his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to be freed. “no prep?” he asks in worry. you need it so bad that you’re shaking your head no. you continue to lap at his skin, leaving marks onto him. with shaky hands, nanami tugs your shorts off of your legs and slides your panties to the side. “look at me.”

you raise your head and search for his hardened eyes. the second you two make eye contact, his lips latch onto yours. he hungrily keeps his lips pressed against yours as he lines his thick cock up to your leaking hole. he slowly pushes himself into you, the both of you gasp and moan into each others mouths as you become one.

he doesn’t keep a steady rhythm for long, the second his pelvis slaps against your ass he speeds up. he’s serious about getting some amount of sleep so that you two could be well rested for tomorrow’s mission. he continues to thumb at your clit while he thrusts into you.

“mnghhh! s-shit.” you moan out once the two of you pull away. nanami’s eyes glance down at your spit glossed lips, you look so delicious like this. 

“pretty girls don’t curse.” he lectures you. 

you can’t think of an insult to throw at his way. all you can do is moan a weak ‘sorry’ and grab at his shoulder. nanami coos at how dumb you’re becoming for him. he uses his other arm to hook it under your leg and bring it up higher. even though the movement is subtle, the change is obvious.

nanami is barely holding up, himself. his skin is flushed red and his hair is sticking down to his head. he’s letting out huffs as he tries to control himself and not cum so fast. it’s hard not to when your pussy is gripping him so tightly. 

he looks down and watches as his dick appears and then disappears inside of you repeatedly. he could see strings of your arousal smeared all over both yourself and him.

“fuck.” he mumbles before diving for your lips once again. as much as he wants to finish as soon as possible with how wet and needy you are, he knows you two will be going at it for hours. 

[komoriiis]

May i pls request fem!reader x sevika? I've been fallen for her since 3 years ago and after her scenes in ep 2 i was so in awe and giddy i need to read more of her 😭🤲

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐊𝐀 ( 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄 ) — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐂𝐒

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖙𝖞𝖕𝖊 :: bullet points / short drabble

˚ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝐤𝖔𝖗𝖎 :: im absolutely in love with sevika too so this was really good timing!! ive been wanting to write for her and viktor for the longest time :3 i hope youre okay with me doing general hcs, i didnt know if you wanted anything specific so i just did this 😋 also, sorry if she turned out ooc, this is my first time writing for arcane characters 😓

[ masterlists ]

ᥫ᭡ sevika will be the most protective gf ever—anywhere you go, she’ll always be 2 steps behind looking out for you!

ᥫ᭡ its not that she doesn’t think you can take care of yourself, but its just who she is. she gets worried, especially if you’re wandering around in the undercity

ᥫ᭡ she will 100% be your biggest hype woman. whenever you wear something new for date night, you can see her pupils dilating when looking at you with a small smirk on her face

ᥫ᭡ rather than hand holding i think she would be someone to wrap her arms around your waist, almost possessive in a way. when shes not doing that though, she would want you to have a hand holding onto her biceps

ᥫ᭡ will never ever let you tag along with anything work related. shes pretty dead set on separating you with her dirty work, for your safety

ᥫ᭡ some nights when it gets bad, she just wants you to hold her. don’t say anything. don’t ask her questions. just be with her until the next morning

ᥫ᭡ she loves to bring you back little trinkets or accessories from her missions that she thinks you’ll like / will look good on you. she would never admit it, but her heart always skips a beat when she sees you wearing something that she got for you herself

ᥫ᭡ lives for teasing/banter arguments. she finds it so hot when youre all riled up and mad at her, because she knows that she’ll make it up to you later anyways ( WHAAAT 😦 )

ᥫ᭡ she has insane mood swings on her period. one time, she accidentally snapped at you while you were trying to tell her about your day, and she felt so incredibly shitty for like 2 months

ᥫ᭡ sometimes, she gets nightmares of you dying in her arms due to an enforcer attack. its a reoccurring dream, and whenever she jolts awake in a cold sweat, you reassure her that you’re still there. you’re alive, and you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

ᥫ᭡ sevika finds it adorable when you give her little nicknames. “vika”, “sevi” , “baby” , and “big mama” ( hehe ) are her favorites

ᥫ᭡ tries to have a date night at least once every two weeks. of course she would like it if it happened more often, but with her schedule its just not possible. when you two do go on dates though, she makes sure to go all out and make it the most enjoyable experience for you

ᥫ᭡ her coworkers are so surprised at how soft she has gotten because of you. she has something to fight for other than zaun now, and once they get their promised land then she’ll finally settle down with you and live through the rest with you by her side

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐢𝐢𝐬. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 !

[keeryhours]

how do i live without you? - billy hargrove

Billy Hargrove x female! Reader, some platonic Steve Harrington x Reader

Masterlist

Billy Hargrove Masterlist

Summary:

An accidental pregnancy turns your world upside down, but losing your boyfriend and having to go through it without him? Things couldn’t be worse.

Warnings:

S3 spoilers, angst, Billy’s death, pregnancy, grief, depression, labor and birth

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N:

This is a scenario that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, and I’m always thinking about Billy and making myself emotional. I really hope you enjoy. Requests open <3

—

The feeling that went through your heart and body when you saw the two lines on that test was something you would never forget.

It was pure fear, panic, shock, sadness, and also awe. You didn’t know what the hell you were going to do, or if Billy was even going to stick around to find out.

The thought of being pregnant and having a baby was terrifying in general, but the thought of doing it alone was even scarier.

You held that secret close to your chest for a week. You wanted to wait for the perfect time to tell Billy, but that time never came. You never stopped being terrified, your stomach was never not in knots when you were around him. He noticed something was up, and he kept trying to get you to tell him, but you’d brush it off.

It became an issue when he wanted you to come with him to a party at Tommy’s house. You didn’t think anything of it at first, agreeing to go without hesitation like any other time. You felt stupid (maybe you could blame it on pregnancy brain already), but it didn’t occur to you until you and Billy pulled up to the party that you would be expected to drink.

When you walked in, Billy brought you straight to the alcohol, filling up two cups before you could say anything over the pounding music. He went to hand you yours with a grin, and you paled, feeling like it was suddenly too hot in the house.

“I’m not drinking tonight,” you said, trying to decline the drink politely and casually but knowing you wouldn’t be so lucky as to not be questioned.

Billy looked at you as if you’d grown two heads. “Uh…you’re not drinking?”

Shit. You absolutely should have thought this through. Who goes to one of these parties to stay sober, anyway?

“She’s not drinking?” Tommy asked, sliding over with Carol under his arm. “Like at all?”

“That’s weird,” Carol giggled, clearly feeling the alcohol she had consumed tonight. “What, are you pregnant or something?”

Your blood ran cold. You actively tried not to react, but the question hit you like a slap to the face. “No, Carol,” you snapped back.

Billy’s eyes never left you throughout the entire interaction. His brows were furrowed, the gears turning in his head.

“I just don’t feel good,” you added, feeling like you were standing on stage with a spotlight on you. “I thought alcohol would make it worse.”

Tommy and Carol weren’t even listening anymore, having moved on to making out in the corner. Billy’s intense gaze was beginning to make you uncomfortable, you felt like he was reading you like a book.

Despite your fears, Billy didn’t bring it up or push the alcohol again. You had a pretty shitty time, because hanging out in a crowded house full of drunk people is probably the least enjoyable sober activity. Billy had two beers before he decided you should leave early. He didn’t look like he was having any fun either, and he knew you weren’t.

In the safety of Billy’s Camaro, you let out a breath. You buckled your seatbelt as Billy climbed into the driver’s seat. He started the car and began to drive back in the direction of your house.

He drove in silence. He didn’t even turn music on, which was not like Billy at all. The tension in the air was so thick you could barely breathe. The only sounds you could hear were the rumbling of the engine and your own shaky breathing.

Billy pulled a cigarette from his pack, sticking it between his lips. He pulled out his lighter and flicked it, bringing the flame to his face and lighting the cigarette. He took a big drag, blowing the smoke mostly out the window. The smell of it nearly made you gag, but you watched his every movement with bated breath anyway.

Finally, he spoke.

“Are you going to tell me what that was really about?” he asked, driving with one hand. He doesn’t look away from the road, doesn’t look at you.

You felt like you were going to really be sick (that had been happening recently), but it was all nerves this time. You debated if there was any chance of talking yourself out of this believably, but then you realize what’s the point, he has to know sometime, somehow.

You let out a long, shaky exhale. Billy’s eyes flicked to you for just a moment at the sound, sensing that there really was something big going on. He had hoped it was some silly explanation. He took another long drag from his cigarette.

“Billy…” you began, looking away from him and down at your hands as your fingers played together nervously. “I, uh…I’m pregnant.”

The words hang in the air like a bomb waiting to explode. Billy doesn’t say anything. You don’t say anything.

Finally Billy sighed deeply, taking another drag and then putting his fingers on the bridge of his nose as if he had a bad headache. “Christ…”

You felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t want him to be mad at you, You didn’t want him to leave.

You didn’t say anything, still trying to gauge his reaction. He didn’t look happy, but you couldn’t really figure what he was thinking. He was never an open book.

Billy pulled up in front of your house. You half expected him to kick you out of the car and never talk to you again, but instead he shut the car off entirely.

“Can I come in? To talk?” he asked, which took you by surprise.

“Yeah,” you said. “My parents are home, though, so you’ll have to come through the window…”

He nodded. He was familiar. “Give me 10 minutes,” he said. He leaned over and kissed you softly on the lips and then you were climbing out, headed up the walkway to your front door as you heard him drive off. He would be going to park around the block to walk over so your parents wouldn’t be suspicious.

You didn’t know what to think. He didn’t seem mad at you, which was a good sign. He even kissed you before you got out of the car like he always does.

Your stomach was in knots as you slipped into the house, saying a quick goodnight to your parents as you headed to your room. You cracked the window for Billy before getting changed into some comfortable pajamas while you waited for him.

Just as promised, you heard your window sliding up about 10 minutes later, and you turned in time to see Billy’s large body awkwardly maneuvering in through the window.

When he was in, he shut the window behind him and let out a sigh, running a hand through his messy blonde curls. He sat down on your bed next to you, neither of you saying anything for a while.

“Well,” Billy finally said. “This is some shit.” He laughed, but nothing was really funny.

You felt bad. You felt like this was all your fault, although you knew logically that wasn’t true.

“And you’re sure?” he asked, rubbing his sweaty palms over the thighs of his jeans.

“Yes,” you said. “Do you want to see the tests?”

He hesitated before nodding. “Not that I don’t believe you,” he added quickly, his voice gruff. “I just…want to see ‘em.”

You opened your bedside table drawer, pulling out the five positive tests you had taken. Billy’s eyes widened as you handed them to him, and he realized this was really happening. There was no mistake.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, looking at those two pink lines.

“Yeah. Fuck,” you agreed.

Billy turned to you then, and he surprised you by smiling at you softly. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you against his firm, warm body. You always felt safe there.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said, which was maybe the last thing you expected him to say.

You looked up at him. “Really? You actually think so?”

“Yeah,” he said, and he looked genuine. “You know I’m serious about you, right?”

You blinked at him. You hadn’t known that, not really. You had hoped he felt the same way about you as you felt about him, but he avoided talking about his feelings so much you were never really sure where you stood.

He looked at you incredulously. “You are. You’re so special to me, you have no idea.”

Your eyes began to water at that, a couple tears falling. “Billy…”

He lifted a hand and wiped your tears away. “Come on, baby girl…” he muttered. “Don’t cry. I hate when you cry.”

He was never this tender. It was making your heart beat about a million times a minute, your head spinning in circles.

“You’re not mad?” you finally asked, voice weak.

“Why would I be mad?” he asked, looking genuinely curious. “It’s not your fault. It was both of us.” He gave you a little smirk when he said that, and it made you blush.

“I just thought you’d be upset,” you said, eyes trailing down to look at your comforter. He placed his hand beneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I’m not upset,” he said. “Sure, this is…really not great timing, but we’re gonna be okay, yeah? We have each other.”

You nodded. You felt like you could get through anything with Billy by your side, and now that it was clear he had no plans to run, you felt yourself breathing for the first time in a week.

“I love you, Billy,” you said, and you froze as you realized what you had said. You and Billy had not said that to each other yet, and now you were positive you had really scared him off this time.

But Billy didn’t miss a beat. He leaned in, pressing his lips softly to yours. “I love you, too,” he said, and you couldn’t believe your ears.

He gently placed his hand on your still flat stomach, rubbing his thumb over the material of your shirt.

“And I mean it,” he promised, looking into your eyes with his deep, gorgeous blue ones, more serious than you’d ever seen him. “You won’t do this alone. I’m right here.”

—

Billy began to act strangely in July.

He stopped calling. You stopped seeing him around anywhere. You went to the pool to see him at work, which he usually loved for you to do, but you found him there looking sweaty and sick, his body covered up from the sun. You knew something was seriously off right away.

It turned out Max and El had already figured it out themselves. They had been watching Billy, and discovered the Mind Flayer was back, and he had possessed Billy.

You felt angry. You felt scared. But Will had been able to be saved from the Mind Flayer, so surely Billy could be, too. That’s what you held onto, what you told yourself.

—

It had been a month since the Starcourt incident. A month since Billy sacrificed himself to save all of you, a month since you watched your boyfriend die horrifically right in front of your own eyes. You still had nightmares about it, seeing it over and over again behind your eyelids when you tried to go to sleep at night. When you realized you’ll never fall asleep in Billy’s arms again, never feel him again at all.

You didn’t leave your bed for weeks after his death. Really only getting up for necessities like the bathroom or forcing yourself to eat enough to keep your body going. Steve and Robin came over and begged you to get up and get out of your dark, depressing bedroom. You weren’t ready to face a world without Billy in it. The thought of going outside and seeing the world continuing on like nothing happened made you feel sick. You felt like they didn’t understand - Steve didn’t like Billy anyway. They were never fans of your relationship. The only thing that eventually gets through to you and gets you out of bed is the reminder that you’re still growing a baby, and that baby needed a mother who could function.

You had never lost anyone close to you like that before. Not even touching on the brutal way he died, or the fact that it happened while you stood helplessly watching. You thought of Billy constantly, it was a neverending physical ache in your chest that was so severe your doctor thought you might be having heart problems and sent you to have it checked out.

Nope, just heartbreak. You wondered if the pain alone would kill you, too.

You became close to Max. The two of you may have never been friends before, but you had always liked the kid, and when you and Billy first started dating, she had told you she was glad Billy finally had a real girlfriend and that you were better than any of the other girls Billy had brought around. It made you laugh at the time, and you instantly liked her.

In Billy’s absence, being the only two people you knew who really felt the pain of his death, you leaned on each other. You became a true big sister to Max, and she became a real friend to you. The excitement over being an aunt and having that piece of Billy to carry on was the only real light she held onto in life some days.

One of the biggest surprises in the aftermath of Billy’s death came from Steve Harrington himself.

You and Steve had been friends for ages, only becoming closer in the past year. You knew Steve loved you and would always be there for you, of course, but you didn’t realize how much until one day that August.

You were 15 weeks pregnant, at that point the secret was out to any and everyone. You were already beginning to show, no longer able to hide under baggy t shirts and hoodies. You were tired of the sympathetic looks everyone gave you, oh, she’s a pregnant teenager and the father died in that horrible mall fire! You could see it in everyone’s eyes when they looked at you.

The doorbell ringing jolted you from your busy day of crying in bed. You were surprised to see Steve there, looking like he had something really important to say.

“Can I come in?” he asked, and your thoughts immediately went to the pajamas you were still wearing at 4pm, the mess of a depression den your bedroom had turned into.

But you knew Steve was the last person who would judge you. You let him in, both of you walking to your bedroom. You had to step over various water bottles, cans, and dirty clothes on the way to sit on your bed.

When you sat together, Steve turned to you, grasping your hands in his. He looked at you seriously, and it scared you a little.

“I just…I have something to say,” Steve said, and you searched his eyes for any clue as to what he was about to drop on you.

“I…you might think I’m crazy,” he laughed breathlessly, running a hand through his long hair before he grabbed your hand again. “Listen, I can’t stand the idea of you doing this alone.”

You looked at him, confused. “Doing what…?”

Steve gestured towards your stomach, the still small bump visible there now. “Having a baby.”

You felt like he wasn’t making any sense. “Steve, I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

Steve sighed, but he didn’t seem annoyed with you. He squeezed your hands, looking you in the eyes. “I’m saying, if you want me to, I want to do this with you. I’ll be like…the dad.” He shook his head, speaking quickly again before you could say anything. “Not the dad, Billy will always be the dad, obviously, I don’t want to erase him or anything. But like the step dad maybe. I want to help you raise the baby.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Were you crazy or did Steve really just offer to step up and be a parent to a child that isn’t even his?

“Steve…” you breathed, tears coming to your eyes as you scanned his face for any sign of hesitancy or insincerity. You found none. He looked at you determined, like he had made up his mind and nothing would change it. “You don’t have to do this. You’d practically be throwing your life away.”

“I wouldn’t be throwing my life away,” Steve scoffed. “I’ve already graduated. I can get a good job with my dad, with insurance and benefits and stuff. I can take care of you. Both of you.”

He really had thought this through. He meant what he was saying. You couldn’t imagine someone ever being this selfless, it was hard for you to wrap your mind around what he was truly offering.

“You don’t have to do this,” you told him again. Your voice was shaking now as you felt the tears threatening to fall.

“I want to,” he said again, his hand moving to rest on your cheek. “You’re like, my best friend in the world. I can’t stand the thought of you stuck doing this alone. Plus, I love kids.” Steve took a deep breath. “And…I feel like I owe it to Billy. I won’t ever forget his sacrifice. He would want you two to be taken care of.”

Those words are the ones that push you over the edge, and you cried, sobs bursting from your chest without warning. Steve was surprised at first, but quickly wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back soothingly. He didn’t say anything, he just let you get it out of your system. You had been so fragile since Billy died, he knew this conversation would bring up some big emotions.

You felt safe in Steve’s arms. You were surprised at how much comfort they brought you, and you thought maybe you would have been better off with your friends after all than rotting in your bed, burritoed in your blankets. You just hadn’t been able to stand the idea of bringing everyone down when you were stuck so deep in your personal pit of despair.

When your cries finally calmed, you pulled away from Steve’s chest, looking at him with puffy red eyes. “I feel like I can’t ask you to do this.”

“You’re not asking me, I’m offering,” Steve answered quickly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I know I can’t force you to believe me, but I want this.”

You felt the tears threatening to fall again, but you pushed the feeling back as far as you could. “Okay,” you finally croaked out. “But you can change your mind at any time, okay?”

Steve smiled at you. “Not gonna happen.”

And Steve kept to his word. He didn’t leave your side the entire pregnancy. He drove you to every appointment, sitting next to you and holding your hand when you needed him. The nurses would refer to him as “dad” and he wouldn’t correct them unless you did. He liked the sound of that, deep down. Yeah, he knew this baby wasn’t his, but he would love them like they were.

The first time Steve got to see the baby and hear the heartbeat, his eyes shone with love, his own heart nearly beating out of his chest. The fast, rhythmic whoosh whoosh whoosh of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room. You looked up at Steve teary eyed, and he looked back down at you like he had never been more proud of someone in his life.

It warmed your heart that even though Billy couldn’t be here, which is a pain that would never go away, the baby had a found family that was larger and stronger than you ever could have hoped your support system would be. The whole friend group was so invested in the pregnancy - it had nearly become the friend group’s baby by this point.

The 20 week anatomy scan was a monumental day, because you’d finally be finding out the gender of the baby. There were only supposed to be 2 people allowed back in the room at a time, but somehow your friends were able to talk their way in.

It was like a party in the exam room when the tech came in, wide eyed and taking in the excited group. You laid on the table with Steve in his normal spot next to you. Then there was also Max, Robin, Nancy, Dustin, Lucas, Will, Mike, and El, all crowded into the room with you.

The tech looked a little nervous as she got started, not used to having quite an audience. When the scan started, everyone leaned in, fighting each other for the best glance at the screen. They all began taking bets on whether it would be a boy or a girl.

“Do you want to know the gender?” the tech asked, and the whole room practically yelled a chorus of Yes!

The tech couldn’t help but smile, despite the chaos of this appointment. It was sweet to see an unborn baby already so loved by so many.

“It’s a girl,” the tech announced, and the room erupted into cheers. There were some “I told you so!”s and some money exchanging hands.

The chaos of the room around you fell away as you turned and looked right at Steve. He was already looking at you, tears brimming in his eyes to match yours.

“A baby girl…” he muttered, lightly brushing his hand across your cheek. “A daughter.”

You smiled, and your heart felt like it was swelling out of your chest. You felt so happy. Then you remembered Billy, how he’d never know and never see his daughter, and that familiar, comfortable ache settled over your bones again.

The group took you out to eat after the appointment, you all laughing, throwing out baby girl names, and talking about plans for her future. It meant the world to you how genuinely excited all of your friends were.

By the 7th month of pregnancy, Steve might as well have moved into your house, because he was there all the time. There was still nothing romantic between you, but he slept in your bed, and you loved the way he would hold you at night, his back pressed against you and hand splayed out over your pregnant belly protectively. It was innocent, but it made you feel less alone. You had spent many nights after Billy’s death jolting awake at night from nightmares, feeling like you were free falling through the emptiness.

By month 8, Steve surprised you with a small but cozy two bedroom apartment for the three of you. You had no idea he had even been making plans to move out with you, the gesture catching you completely off guard. Already an emotional mess from the pregnancy and your never ending grief, you had cried, which made Steve panic and think he did something wrong. But really, you couldn’t believe how sweet he was, how much he loved you and the baby already.

Steve, Robin, Nancy, Max, and Dustin helped you set up the nursery. You made a day out of it. There was a lot of sweating and arguing setting up the crib and dresser, mostly between Steve and Dustin, but it all came together. You were shooed out of the room as they opened the windows and painted the walls a pale pink before moving the furniture to their spots.

You nested over the next couple of weeks, and the nursery really started to come together. There was a rocking chair in the corner next to her bookshelf already stocked with baby books. There was shelving attached to the walls, filled with stuffed animals, a framed ultrasound photo, a framed picture of you and Billy.

You even had a wall hanging made with her name to put on the wall, but you kept that hidden in the closet for now, wanting her name to be a surprise for everyone.

Baby Girl was all set now, really, the only thing left was for her to make her arrival.

You had been in your pajamas, watching a movie with Steve one night when you were 38 weeks pregnant. You didn’t make it out of your pajamas very often anymore. You felt like a house at this point, you couldn’t even stand without Steve’s help. You dealt with a lot of back pain in your third trimester, your doctor said the baby was most likely laying on a nerve. Little brat. Thankfully Steve was always there, ready to help however he could, unless he was at work.

You rubbed a hand over your large belly, feeling your baby girl moving beneath your palm. You thought of Billy again, as you always did. You wondered if he could see you somehow, if he knew that you and his baby were okay, that she was about to be here and how you’d never missed him quite as badly as you have lately. Steve was great, but you would have given anything to be going through this with Billy like you were supposed to.

“Can you help me up? I have to go to the bathroom,” you asked Steve with a sigh, hating feeling so helpless. You didn’t like relying on people to this degree, not at all. You had pretty much been assigned an around the clock babysitter over the past few weeks. Someone from the friend group was always here if Steve wasn’t, and you suspected he did that on purpose.

“Of course,” Steve said, standing without hesitation. He held out his hand for you and pulled you to your feet. You made it up with great effort, but at least you were finally up.

Steve sat back down in the recliner as you started moving your aching body towards the small bathroom down the hall. As you were almost halfway there, you felt it - a huge gush, and you froze in place.

“Uh- um, Steve??” you said, panic in your voice.

“What?” Steve asked, his head snapping in your direction. “Are you- did you just pee yourself?”

You glared at him. “My water just broke.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, and he was frozen for a minute. Then he jumped out of his seat, looking frantic like he’d lost his mind and didn’t know where to go first.

“Oh shit oh shit oh shit-“

As Steve freaked out, the contractions kicked in for you. You placed a hand on your stomach as you doubled over in pain and cried out, feeling like you were experiencing the worst period cramps of your life.

When Steve noticed, he panicked even harder. “Oh god-“

Steve slapped himself in the face. He had to pull himself together. This is what you had both been preparing for for months, and now it was happening, and he could do this.

He sprinted into the bedroom, grabbing the overnight bags you had already packed. There was a big one for you, a smaller one filled with Steve’s things, and one for the baby.

When Steve ran back out into the living room, he found you holding onto the back of the couch for dear life, breathing through a contraction just like the two of you had practiced in the birthing classes.

“Good, good, you’re doing amazing sweetheart,” Steve said, running a hand through his messy hair. “You think you can get downstairs and into the car with me?”

You held up a finger, telling him to wait as you rode out the last of this contraction. When the pain faded, you let out a long exhale. “Yes. Let’s just go before another one comes on.”

Steve carried all three bags in one arm as he put his other one around you, helping you out of the apartment and down the stairs. Another contraction hit halfway down the stairs, and Steve had to stand there with you, making sure you didn’t collapse and go toppling down the damn stairs. They were coming fast now, you both noticed, and that made him feel like he was going to panic again, but he pushed the feeling down deep. He breathed along with you, coaching you as he had learned in class. He had paid attention. At least he felt like he could be somewhat helpful.

When it was over, he got you the rest of the way down the stairs, helping you into the car and buckling you in himself. He tossed the bags in the back and then he was sprinting to the driver’s side.

Steve drove to the hospital fast, speeding up a little every time you had another contraction. He was terrified of the baby being born in his car, him delivering her himself. He shuddered at the thought.

Steve parked as close to the emergency room entrance as he could get, running inside like a madman to grab a wheelchair and wheel it out to you. He got you settled into it, grabbing all your bags and pushing you inside quickly, but a little less insane this time since he didn’t want to throw you out of the chair.

You received a cervical check in the ER, and it was determined you were already 7cm dilated. Things were moving extremely fast. Your head was spinning, and Steve looked like he might pass out.

They got you up and into a delivery room immediately. You were offered the epidural, but you said no, you wanted to see if you could make it without it - this is a decision you would regret soon.

At some point, the pain went from intense to unbearable. You screamed out, tears streaming down your cheeks, as the contractions got more and more intense until you felt like your body was literally splitting in half.

“I want the epidural,” you begged, and the nurses looked at each other. You didn’t like that look.

“We’ll have to do another cervical check first,” one of them said gently, and you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach.

The check was performed, and the nurse announced you were already 10cm. It was too late. It was time to push.

You cried like a baby as the delivery room turned into chaos, nurses bustling around, bright lights turning on, the doctor coming in dressed in scrubs, all preparing the room for the birth. It was actually time. Steve never took his eyes off you, brushing your sweaty hair off your forehead.

“I can’t do this,” you cried to him, desperate for someone to give you that goddamn epidural. “It hurts too bad.”

Steve looked at you sympathetically. He wanted to take every bit of your pain away, and he felt powerless that there wasn’t a thing he could do. “You’re doing amazing, sweetheart,” he said, offering you some water. You gratefully drank through the straw, the cool water easing your dry mouth. “You’re almost done. If you came this far, you can finish it.”

His words did bring you a little comfort, although all you really wanted to hear was Yes, here’s the epidural you ordered! You won’t feel any more pain at all!

But of course that was not your reality. The nurse lifted your right leg, and they offered to let Steve hold the other. He looked between you and the nurse awkwardly, looking like he wanted to ask if it was okay, before he wrapped his hands around your leg, holding it back just like the nurse was.

You had never felt so exposed in your life.

“Don’t look down there during all this,” You warned Steve, your expression serious. “You’ll never look at me the same.”

Steve laughed, but he didn’t take your words lightly. He did not look.

The doctor was between your legs now, and if you weren’t in so much pain you probably would have felt embarrassed.

The doctor told you to push with every contraction. The first one came on, and you pushed, screaming loudly, a primal scream ripped straight from your soul. Steve winced, letting you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed to. He didn’t care if you broke every bone in his hand, as long as it helped you in some way, as long as he can help you feel better.

You continued to push at the appropriate times, each time feeling like your body was tearing apart. You had never experienced such pain in your life, women weren’t lying when they said this shit is the worst.

“I can see her head, you’re almost there,” the doctor encouraged, and you felt relieved that the end was in sight, but at the same time the pain was only getting worse.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you cried, looking at Steve like there was anything he could do to help you. He felt helpless, and that was the worst thing when all he wanted was to take all your pain away. That’s all he had ever wanted.

“You can,” he told you, padding your forehead with a cold wash cloth. “You’ve come so far. You are almost done. She’s almost here.”

At Steve’s words, you took a deep breath. He was right. You were almost done, and there was no turning back now anyway.

You pushed hard during the next contraction, the doctor encouraging you.

“The head is out,” he announced, “The worst part is over. Just one more good push.”

You had never been relieved to hear something more in your life. You pushed hard for your last push, and you knew she was out. You tried to look down, and then you heard the most beautiful sound. A cry.

The doctor held up a tiny little thing, pale and covered in blood, crying loudly. Your eyes went wide, but you were too exhausted to sit up. The nurses wiped off the baby, and then they were placing her on your chest, this tiny little warm wiggling thing.

You wrapped your arms around her, cuddling her close to your chest, wrapping your hospital gown around her for warmth. A nurse placed a baby blanket over her as well. She settled against your skin like it was where she had always belonged.

She had a head full of blonde or maybe light brown hair. She opened her eyes and looked up at you with bright blue eyes - Billy’s eyes. God, she was his twin. Your heart clenched at the sight, and you felt tears beginning to fall.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the feeling of Steve’s arm wrapping around your shoulder, his other hand coming to rest on the baby’s back.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmured, and you could see the tears falling down his cheeks. “Absolutely perfect.” He smiled softly, running a hand over her soft baby hair.

You wished Billy was here to see her. You wished for that more than anything.

“Little Molly,” you hummed, taking in her perfect features, her soft skin, her tiny fingers and toes. Molly Louise Hargrove.

You could have held her all day, but finally you passed her to Steve, giving him a turn. Steve took her like she was made of porcelain, holding her so tenderly like he was terrified she’d break at the slightest wrong move. He rocked her gently, looking at her with pure love and adoration. He looked like a new dad.

When Steve called your friends the next morning to let them know the baby had arrived, he got hung up on. He looked at the phone, confused, attempting to dial back with no answer.

20 minutes later and your entire friend group was busting through the hospital room door. You laughed, shushing your loud friends as you gestured to the sleeping newborn in your arms.

Surprisingly, they all quieted down, but then they joined together in a soft chorus of Awww! as they leaned over, trying to get a better look at her. You finally announced the name, and everyone loved it.

You motioned for Max to climb onto the bed with you, and she did, careful not to jostle your sore body. She learned over, trying to get a good look at the bundle of blankets in your arms.

“Do you want to hold her?” you asked softly. You had wanted her to be the first.

She looked at you wide eyed, her blue eyes full of emotion. “R-really?”

“Of course. You’re Auntie Max,” you answered her with a gentle smile and she smiled back. She held her arms out, and you carefully laid Molly in them. “Just be careful to support her head,” you added, but the girl was a natural.

Max looked down at her niece, her eyes wide. Tears brimmed at her waterline, and she looked like she had about a million thoughts going through her head at once.

“She looks like Billy,” is what Max finally said, a huff of breathless laughter coming from her lips as tears began to fall. The sight of the younger girl crying made you cry too, it didn’t even matter that you had a whole audience. You felt Steve’s hand rubbing your back.

Every member of the friend group held Molly, even the ones who originally said they didn’t want to (Mike and Will). Molly seemed to adore Robin especially.

Your friends visited until they were kicked out, visiting hours over for the day. Only Steve was allowed to stay, since he was sleeping there.

That night, you smiled softly to yourself as you watched Steve in the dark of the room. You were supposed to be asleep, but were having a hard time. You watched Steve, who definitely thought you were still asleep, as he paced around the dark room, gently bouncing Molly in his arms.

“You are really the cutest ever, you know,” he muttered lowly to her, like they were having a conversation. “And I love you so much. Did you know that? I may not be your daddy, but I couldn’t love you any more even if I was.”

Your heart felt full as you watched them. Molly was awake, but not a single cry came from her. She was content to be gently walked and bounced and staring up at Steve’s face. She knew his voice. He had talked to her through your belly the whole pregnancy.

“We’re gonna have so much fun. We’re gonna be the best family.” He gently patted her back as he walked with the bundle in his arms. “And I’ll tell you all about your daddy. Billy. He was a hero, you know.”

You wiped away the tears that fell with the back of your hand. You still couldn’t handle a mention of Billy without crying. But your little girl was so loved, which meant everything to you, and you knew Billy would be happy to know she was loved and taken care of, too.

The day you went home from the hospital, you and Steve bickered over how the infant car seat worked. You snatched the instructions back and forth, both desperately trying to figure out how the contraption worked. Finally Molly was settled in her seat, safely and cozily strapped in, and it really wasn’t that hard to begin with.

A nurse pushed you to the hospital entrance while Steve walked ahead, carrying the baby carrier. You could see Molly peacefully snoozing in her seat as he walked.

Steve got the car seat settled into the back of the car, and then he was helping you into the passenger seat, mindful of how sore you still were. You felt like a stranger in your own body, but you knew all this weirdness would pass.

Getting home was surreal. Entering the apartment as a family of three finally. Steve carried the car seat around the whole apartment, giving Molly the grand tour. It wasn’t much to see, but it was home.

Your eyes caught sight of the framed photo of you and Billy sitting on the living room table. You thought about how things would be different if he were here. You imagined Billy holding Molly, meeting her for the first time, getting to be her dad. You had to shake the thoughts away before they consumed you again.

You knew you would miss Billy for the rest of your life. Especially seeing Molly every day, you were sure she would only look more like Billy as she grew up. But you had built a family here. Even with all the tragedy, you had your baby girl, and you had Steve. You were grateful for the love that surrounded you, even when all you could see was darkness.

[i-arch-my-backula]

Telling slashers you like 'hot old men'

I am an old man lover and enjoyer for life. I love hot old men I hope I become one when I'm older. So what better way then to make a post appreciating all of the hot old men I'm in love with. I know some of these men aren't like super old but it's still kind of old ok? We're talking an age range from 30's-50's. Also this was buried in my drafts since like April.

Includes: Doomhead, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Hannibal Lecter, and Bo Sinclair

Warnings: None I can think of

Doomhead

He honestly thought you said something else when you first said it. You two were watching a movie together and you made a comment on how you love "hot old men".

When he asks you to repeat yourself and you confirm that you said you love hot old men he laughs. He knows he's an older man but you saying that is really funny to him.

"Are you calling me an old man, sugar?" He asks you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. After you clarify you don't mean it in a negative way he just keeps laughing quietly.

He'll bring this up from time to time when he sees fit. He honestly might play up the 'old man' act just to tease you about it even more. But he's not too offended that you said it.

Mark Hoffman

You and Hoffman are coworkers and you've been dropping hints to him about your attraction to him. Today you were working with Hoffman, looking over some tapes when the discussion of how long you've been in the force came up.

When Hoffman mentioned when he graduated from the police academy and made a comment about how he's old you smiled and said, "Good thing I love old men."

He laughed it off at first then got a little defensive about how he's "not that old". You explained to him that you never meant it to be rude, you just meant to say that you find older men attractive.

He just nodded his head and went back to watching the tape over. But over the next few days he kept thinking about what you said. It's the most outwardly flirty you've been with him before. When he next sees you he asks you out and you accept.

Peter Strahm

You're on a date with him after being introduced to each other by a mutual friend. He took you somewhere nice and he's driving you home. You both feel a strong connection.

He mentions how long he's been working in the FBI and makes a comment about how you must think he's so old. But when you chuckle and tell him "Don't worry, I love old men." He chuckles too.

Peter isn't too much older than you but he still finds your comment funny. He asks you why and when you talk about how older men are more mature, provide stability, and they're just hot, he smiles and puts a hand on your thigh.

He thinks about your comment for awhile after the date. The comment and how well the date went leads him to asking you out again, which you of course say yes to.

Hannibal Lecter

You met Hannibal at an opera and he found you very attractive. He invited you over for dinner later in the week and you accepted. He made sure to make an impressive meal for you, which isn't hard for him to do.

You two start talking over dinner and Hannibal talks about his career as a surgeon then as a psychiatrist. He makes a comment about how you must think he's very old and you reply with, "I don't mind at all. I love old men."

He chuckles and says he's not that old. You tell him you know that but you start talking about how you love a man who looks more mature and has his life well put together.

The dinner goes well and he invites you over again later in the month. But he can't stop thinking about your comment. He knows he's an older man but he doesn't think he's that old. But the comment doesn't get to him too much because you like him anyway.

Bo Sinclair

You're sitting with Bo in his garage while he's working on a car. You're reading an old magazine when you start to giggle. He asks you what's so funny and you talk about how hot this model is.

When you show him the model Bo talks about how he looks pretty old to which you reply with "I love old men." Bo sets down his tool and looks at you.

"Are you saying I'm old, darlin'?" He asks you. You think for a moment before you tell him no. Bo is in his early 30's and you don't really consider that old.

You have to explain to him that by "old men" you mean men in their 40's and above. Bo will tease you about this constantly. Any time you two see an older man, either it being in a movie or a victim he asks you if he's your type.

[goldsainz]

❝ IN MY HEAD, WE BELONG ❞

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . art donaldson x reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. warnings . . . smut (riding, protected sex), cheating, reader’s kinda delusional, toxic behaviour, not proofread.

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . all it takes is a text and a lonely hotel room.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . first art fic i am beyond excited 🤭 many more to come and my requests are open so if you have any ideas feel free to leave them in my inbox!!!!!! forgot how fun writing smut was, kinda crazy to have my first art fic be smut but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless 💙

[ word count: 1,7k ]

You know it is wrong to long for Art Donaldson. To not have moved on, but your life is incomplete without him. You tried to find someone else, someone who can compare to him, yet there is no one like him.

He’s not yours, no, in fact he’s married now. He has managed to move on from you, he has created a life for himself and he doesn't need you. Not like you need him, anyway.

You tune in for his matches, watch him beat his opponents and then run to his beautiful wife to celebrate. They actually looked good together, seemed like a proper couple and were the perfect faces of tennis. You could not be that for Art, you're too much of a mess to even dare to be as idyllic as Tashi Duncan.

Maybe that's why it feels so good that he’s currently under you, that it's your name he's moaning and your kisses he’s searching for. Maybe that’s the reason why you feel so unbothered by wrecking a home, because if he cheats, is there even much of a home to begin with? You don't think so. 

He’s like a vice you cannot seem to quit. Even when you first broke up, it took less than two days for him to hit you up and for you to be outside his house. Nobody knows you like Art, and nobody knows Art like you. You wonder if his wife is aware of how much he dreams of you, that when he’s with her, he’s thinking about you.

All it takes is for one of you to reach out, and you both throw all dignity out the window. The measly barriers you both created collapse in a second, no words need to be said to know what the other wants. It is quite simple between you two, perhaps in a way that is too carnal and not emotional enough. 

That is why, for some reason you don’t care enough to think about, he’s in your hotel room. 

You’re in New York City, alone in a hotel room that feels too big for just one person. You tried to go to a bar, tried to mingle with people in hopes of making your life less lonely. For just one night, at least.

It is not intentional that Art is also in New York, in fact, you’ve tried to steer clear of him and his overbearing presence in your life. It has been months since your last conversation, which consisted of him saying “Happy birthday” and you answering “Thanks”. 

You go back to your hotel room after your attempts at not being alone fail miserably. It is partly your fault, because you always end up in the same vicious cycle of comparing the men you meet to Art. No one can compare to him, and you damn your heart for taking over and not letting you have some enjoyment. 

You’re sprawled out on the bed, wearing your pajamas and scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You consider going to sleep, but something inside you tells you to stay awake and you receive your answer in the form of an imessage notification.

Art (Do NOT contact)

Hey, I heard you’re in NYC.

You

Yeah.

Art (Do NOT contact)

Wanna meet up?

You

Why?

Art (Do NOT contact)

Don’t know. 

Just missed you.

You

You can’t just say that.

Art (Do NOT contact)

I know. 

Are you free right now?

You

It’s 11pm, Art.

Art (Do NOT contact)

So? 

Send me your location.

You

[Location] 

Room 904.

Art (Do NOT contact)

Be there in 20. 

You’re thrust back into reality when he moves beneath you, hitting a spot that makes you arch your back and has you mewling. Guilt doesn’t even make its way through your mind, if anything, the scandalous nature of what you’re doing makes you wetter than you care to admit. 

Art looks up at you like you’re a goddess, a siren that he fell prey to, his eyes shine when he takes in the sight above him. Your tits are bouncing in front of his face, and he has to resist the urge to attach his mouth to one of them, but he’s too concentrated on the faces you make. 

You whine when he grabs your hips and moves you up and down quicker than before. Your hands are planted on his chest, grabbing onto whatever semblance of support you can get. You know how much he likes for you to be on top, loves it when you take control but today he’s antsier and needs to take some control back. So, he settles for tightly gripping your hips and deciding the pace of your movements.

You lean down and connect your lips with his. The kiss is sloppy, teeths clashing and your mouths open to let out a moan when the other does something that makes your toes curl. 

“Please,” he breathes out against your mouth, “Please, let me come.”

“Do you deserve it?” you ask, rearing back to look at him but you don't slow your movements either. 

“Yes, yes I do,” he pants, brows furrowing when he feels the heat in his core bubbling up.

“Only if I come first,” you say, taking one of his hands and placing it on your sensitive nub. 

Art moans at your response and his moves are hasty, rubbing you like his life depends on it. You let out short breaths at his touch, the heat inside you creeping up and ready to set off like fireworks.

He looks at your blissed out expression, how your bottom lip is between your teeth in an attempt to conceal the beautiful sounds you make. He’s tempted to use the other hand that’s on your hip to take your lip away from your teeth, but his thoughts are cut short when you clench tightly around him.

“I’m close, Art,” The blonde doesnt need to hear you say it, he knows your body like the back of his hand. 

It is no surprise when you come around him, a high-pitched moan escapes your mouth when your body shakes from pleasure. Like clockwork, Art spills inside his condom almost instantly after your release washes over you. 

He gives a few sloppy thrusts after he comes, feeling you collapse onto his chest, tired out from your orgasm. Art kisses the side of your head, heavily breathing and trying to form a coherent thought. Though it is quite hard when he is so fucked out. 

You separate yourself from his chest and press another kiss to his lips. Relishing on the closeness between you, he places his hand on the nape of your neck and keeps you in place.

After a few seconds he slips himself out of you. You whine at the loss of the fullness you felt, but he quickly shushes you with a simple kiss. It’s softer this time, sweeter than you deserve and more romantic than you’d like. 

You remove yourself from being on top of him, and lay down beside him. The pillow is soft and comforting, you keep your gaze trained on the ceiling and try to calm your harsh breathing down. You hear the rustle of the bed sheets and then feel yourself being covered by them, the soft touch of Art’s hand when he handles the sheets and brushes his knuckles against your chest makes you shiver

“This was fun,” he lets out, like he just got off an amusement park attraction. 

You can only hum in response, slightly turning your head to look at him. That is your mistake, because once you take in his beauty you cannot stop doing so. It makes you want to do things you shouldn’t, say things that would ruin whatever’s going on between you two.

“How long are you staying here for?” the question takes you aback, do you want him to know you schedule? A small part of you, the rational one, tells you to lie and put this little rendezvous behind you. But the part that makes most of the decision, the one that you damn each day, makes you tell him the truth.

“Until friday,” you respond, playing with the corner of the bedsheets between your fingers.

“Okay, cool,” he says back, it’s tuesday and that leaves you with just a couple days to see the other. How badly you wish that this wasn't what your relationship was now, but you have to make do with what you have. At least until you're pulled back into reality. 

You’re not sure why but the idea of him seeking you out once more, feels your tummy with a fuzzy feeling akin to butterflies.

“Yeah,”

Time seems to stand still for a few minutes, with his hands behind his head and yours resting just below your chest. It’s as if neither of you want to break the moment that’s happening, one that has a close expiration date.

After a moment of quiet, he finally breaks the silence, “I’m glad I’m here,”

You don't know how to respond so you settle for a simple, “Me too,”

For a moment, you both just look at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. It's a fleeting connection, intense yet fragile, and you know that despite it neither of you belong to the other.

“I should get going,” he tells you, sitting up from his laid down position in bed and searching for his sprawled around clothes.

“Sure,” you answer as you watch him clothe himself, intently keeping your eyes trained on his figure.

“I’ll text you,” he says when he’s done clothing himself, “We could hang out again,”

“Okay,”

He looks at you once more, and you swear you see him hesitate when he reaches for the door handle. Something inside you aches for him to kiss you goodbye, to give you that intimacy that youre no longer privy to.

But as quick as that thought crosses your mind, he’s out the door.

Art doesn't text you as he said he would. You want to be mad at him, but you know you’ll be waiting for the day he messages you, and you can tally another clandestine meeting to your board. After all, you belong eternally to him and he to you. 

[mononijikayu]

chapter (2) — the feels

GENRE: alternate universe - actors/celeb au!

WARNING/S: not safe for work (nsfw), r-18 and above, actors/singers au!, romance, fluff, minor angst, slow burn, humour, slice of life, will they won't they, light-hearted, flirting, playful, possessiveness, teasing, explicit content, possible, kissing, sexual content, innuendos, drama, feels, hurt/comfort, falling in love, love, happy ending, actor/singer! sukuna, actress/celeb! reader;

WORD COUNT: 4.4k words.

NOTE: everytime i look at the drafts for this, i get butterflies. this story is really fun for me to write no matter what. i genuinely enjoy exploring the dynamics. i hope you enjoy it as much as i do!!! anyway, sukuna is definitely a simp for reader. like genuinely, he's down bad. but tbh so is reader. they're matching each other in everything!!! but well.....are they dating? who knows?

TAGLIST: @kunasthiast, @midnight-138, @v3nd3ttal3on;

masterlist

hey lover! series

HE DIDN’T EXPECT TO COME ACROSS IT. But it was that one afternoon on his day off, while Ryomen Sukuna was out running errands, he found himself finding a piece of you. It was just a regular day for him, one where he indulges himself as he strolls through the supermarket, casually picking up snacks and drinks he wanted. 

He doesn;t get to do it often because of how busy he is. But when he has the time, he indulges it and enjoys it a lot. He thinks if you were with him, it would have been more enjoyable, though. You liked going and doing mundane things like this, as much as he does. He noticed that a lot since you both were always going out and eating together after shoots in Tokyo.

It’s been a few weeks since Jujutsu Kaisen Season 1 did the final reshoots. And he thinks he missed you. You both texted a lot last night, sure. But it’s a different thing when you both are together.

But right now you are enjoying the holiday you’re taking. And judging from the photos you sent him so far, you were happily enjoying it. From what you told him last night, you said you were waiting for your flight so you could visit family back home. You won't be back in New York until maybe next week.

Ryomen Sukuna could only sigh at himself. He has become so fond of your company that he can’t help but crave even more of it. He supposes that it’s just how good you were with him, how good for him. He hadn’t really had anyone be that good to him, he supposed. You’ve just brightened up his day to day, even if it was just to think of you. 

As he turns the corner into the magazine aisle, something catches his scarlet eye and he stops— it was one of those glossy magazines, one that were for high fashion brands. In the front of its bright poppy cover featuring the ever beautiful shining you with a stunning smile, the headline reading, “Y/N L/N: Rising Star of Jujutsu Kaisen!”

His first thought is a mix of pride and mischief. He couldn’t help it. You were everywhere. And he just can’t help but feel warm about it. “Well, well, what do we have here?” he mutters to himself. Grinning, he picks up the magazine, flipping through it.

I should probably promote this. Doll worked hard on this, hm? he thinks, already plotting a plan. He pulls out his phone and goes live on social media, knowing his fans would be eager to join him for this impromptu session.

“Hey, everyone! So, I’m at the supermarket, and guess what I just found?” he announces, holding up the magazine for the camera, your face shining brightly on the cover. “Really pretty picture the editor chose really. I really love this one. I think everyone can agree!”

The chat explodes with comments.

“OMG, Y/N!”

“IS THAT A MAGAZINE?!”

“CAN WE GET A CLOSE-UP?!”

"MY WIFEEEEE SHE LOOKS SO GOOD!"

"CAN YOU FIGHT SUKUNA???"

"OH MY GOD, ONE CHANCE PLEASE PLEASEEE Y/N"

Sukuna chuckles, basking in the chaos as he starts to read some of the article aloud, his voice teasing. “Let’s see what the article has to say about my favorite rising star. Let’s read it together.” he begins, pretending to be a serious news anchor.

“‘Y/N has taken the entertainment world by storm with her captivating performances and undeniable charm, both on screen and on stage.’ Wow, they really nailed it, huh?” He glances at the camera, a playful smirk on his face. “They must’ve been taking notes from me. I mean, she is spending time with the best.”

The comments continue to flood in, fans egging him on.

“THIS IS SO CUTE! SUKUNA, KEEP PRAISING YOUR WOMAN OMG!”

“Please stop, I’m dying! He’s this love struck?”

“Is he flirting with her through a magazine?”

"He's never beating the 'im obssessed with y/n' allegations omg???"

"If my partner isn't like this, i genuinely don't want him, you guys???"

"How is Sukuna real? Like, how is he the only man to ever exist?"

Sukuna can’t help but lean into the banter. “Oh, it gets better. ‘Her recent work in Jujutsu Kaisen has captured the hearts of many, including veteran actor and co-star Ryomen Sukuna.’” He pauses dramatically, pretending to think deeply. “How does that feel? Being able to capture me, Y/N?”

The comments explode again.

“OH NO HE DIDN’T! RYOMEN SUKUNA, YOU’RE INSANE FOR THIS?????”

“IS HE FLIRTING?! GUYS GUYS CHAT IS THIS REAL????”

“THEY ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER! EVEN WHEN THEY’RE APART OMG”

"GOD PLEASE GIVE ME SOMETHING LIKE THIS PLEASE!!!"

"HIS EYES ARE JUST SO FULL OF LOVE WHILE STARING AT HER PICTURE OH MY GOD IM GONNA THROW UP???"

"HE'S DEFINITELY BUYING THE MAGAZINE AND STARE AT IT FOR A WHILE CAUSE???"

He continues reading, “Known for her ability to bring depth to her characters, Y/N is also a self-proclaimed cat mom.” He raises an eyebrow, grinning at the camera. “Noodle better watch out; he’s not the only one who’s going to be in the spotlight!”

Sukuna reads a little more, then leans back, looking directly into the camera. “Honestly, if you’re not following her yet, what are you doing? My doll’s the star of the century! She’s talented, funny, and—” he pretends to whisper with a grin. “—way cuter than I am.”

The comments go wild, with fans practically screaming in excitement.

“HE SAID IT! HE CALLED HER MY DOLL???”

“HE’S SO SUPPORTIVE OF HER OMGGGGGG!!!!”

“CAN YOU GUYS JUST DATE ALREADY?!”

"THEY'RE DEFINITELY DATING GOD IM JUST???"

"GIVE US THE CONFIRMATION FOR THE WEDDING ALREADY???"

"I SHIP I AM THE CAPTAIN OF THIS SHIPPPPPP!!!!"

As he wraps up the live session, Sukuna flashes a charming smile. “So, go pick up this magazine, check out Y/N, and maybe throw in a little love for me too while you’re at it. And don’t forget to tune into the next episode of Jujutsu Kaisen! See you later, everyone!”

With that, he ends the live stream, still chuckling to himself as he walks through the store, clutching the magazine. Little did he know, this playful moment would send fans into a frenzy, cementing your duo’s chemistry even further in the eyes of the public—and leaving you with a smile when you catch wind of his little stunt.

Later that evening, you’re lounging at home, scrolling through your social media feed, when you notice your notifications blowing up. Curious, you tap on your profile to find a flood of comments and tags about Sukuna’s recent live stream.

“Did you see Sukuna’s live? He was reading that magazine about you!”

“I’m crying! He’s so supportive! #Y/NandSukunaForever”

“He basically said he’s in love with you. Can you two just get married already?”

"Y/N, please. give him a shot already. That man is too in love with you."

"This man is doing promos for you like he's trying to save the planet. He's a good man, Savanah!"

"He's literally crazy about you, like??? Stopping in a supermarket to do a live to promote your magazine??? He's in love with you???"

You can’t help but grin, your heart racing at the thought of Ryomen Sukuna casually promoting you to all his fans. You scroll through the clips of his live, laughing at his playful banter and over-the-top expressions. You couldn’t help but just feel happiness beyond comprehension, knowing someone takes care of you even from afar.

Suddenly, a direct message pops up from him. Did you catch the live, doll?

You quickly type back, I did! You’re ridiculous! I can’t believe you read that whole thing.

His reply is immediate. Had to promote my favorite, cutest rising star! Can’t let Noodle take all the love in this three soul family, don’t you think?

You chuckle, imagining Sukuna strutting through the supermarket, holding your magazine like it’s the Holy Grail. What’s next? Are you going to host my fan club?

A few moments later, he replies, Absolutely! First meeting will be at our next sushi date. Wear something nice, doll.

Your cheeks flush at the thought. Then you better look sharp too, bub.

You just know he was smirking when he sent you the reply. When you opened it, your face turned even redder. Oh, of course, doll. I like making sure I look pretty enough to get your praises and kisses. You’re my doll, after all.

You could feel butterflies for a moment, and for a good while, you were just trying to keep yourself together. You couldn’t look like this while you were having dinner with your parents.

As the conversation continues, you can’t help but feel a warm flutter of excitement. Not only is he supporting you, but he’s also finding creative ways to keep the teasing and flirting alive in front of everyone.

The next day, you decide to take advantage of the buzz. You ended up in a book store where they had your magazines. You post a cute selfie of yourself holding the magazine, your expression playful and bright.

Thanks to my bubs @RyomenSukuna for the promotion! If you haven’t checked out this issue yet, what are you waiting for?

Almost instantly, your comments explode.

“YOU LOOK AMAZING! WE STANNNNNN”

“GET IT, GIRL! WE LOVE TO SEE IT!!!!”

“HE’S NOT WRONG, Y/N IS A QUEEN!”

"Y/N DOMINATION FR FR!!!"

"SUKUNA CAN YOU FIGHT CAN YOU FIGHT SUKUNA???"

"NAH CAUSE IF Y/N AND YOU AREN'T TOGETHER, IM SHOOTING MY SHOT!!!"

A few hours later, you see another tweet trending: “Sukuna’s magazine live should win an award for Best Promotion. Guys, if you’re not doing this for your girls, we don’t want you!”

You can’t help but laugh, picturing him reading through those thirsty tweets like a comedic genius.

Later that evening, as you prepare for bed, your phone buzzes again. It’s a video from Sukuna, looking slightly mischievous.

“Hey, everyone! Just wanted to follow up on my earlier live stream. The magazine is flying off the shelves, and I’m not saying it’s all because of my charming face, but… Okay, it’s mostly because of Y/N. You know how it is. Now, don’t just stop there—go buy that issue! And let’s be real, you’re doing it for me, but mostly for her! So, keep giving my doll all your love, okay? Thanks everyone! I’ll see you in the next live tweet for Jujutsu Kaisen!”

He winks at the camera, and you can’t help but smile. He’s just so endearing when he gets into these promotional modes. The next few weeks, it’s all the media could talk about.

They just catch wind of the buzz surrounding your magazine feature and Sukuna’s live stream. They keep getting more and more curious about you and Sukuna. After all, both of you were a mystery to them. 

You’re both invited to a morning talk show to discuss the recent developments, and you can already sense the excitement and chaos that awaits.As you both sit on the couch, the host teases you both about the “flirting” and “couple energy” that everyone seems to be picking up  on.

“You two are definitely giving off some serious vibes!” the host says, leaning in. “Sukuna, what do you have to say about the ongoing speculation?”

Sukuna grins, leaning back. “I mean, can you blame them? Who wouldn’t want to be with someone as talented and cute as Y/N? Can you blame everyone for being as dazzled about her as me?”

The audience erupts into cheers, and you can’t help but blush.

“Okay, but I’m just grateful for him.” you chime in, trying to regain composure. You grinned at him. “Sukuna’s just really is such a great supportive soul for me.… And such a darling to me. You always are, aren’t you, bub? Dramatic too, but well. Love you all the same!”

“Dramatic? Me? Never.” he replies, feigning innocence while smirking. “I’m just here to make sure everyone knows who the real star is. And well, who the real star of my day to day is, don’t you think?”

The banter continues, and by the end of the show, your dynamic has captured the hearts of viewers everywhere. Social media is ablaze with clips of your interview, further fueling the speculation and excitement.

As you leave the studio, you can’t help but think about how much fun this whole experience has been. The teasing, the playful banter, and Sukuna’s unabashed support have created a whirlwind of excitement that you never expected.

Later, you check your phone one last time before bed. A new tweet catches your eye: “Sukuna and Y/N have officially made it onto my ‘favorite couples’ list. The world needs more of this!”

With a smile on your face, you finally drift off to sleep, dreaming of what other adventures await you and Sukuna in this unexpected and thrilling journey together. 

➽──────────❥

YOU WERE STILL SLEEPY. But well, what could you do? Life goes on, with how your schedule is today. The day of the big fashion show had finally arrived, and excitement buzzed in the air as you and Sukuna prepared to strut down the runway.

The energy backstage was palpable—models hurrying to and from makeup stations, designers giving last-minute instructions, and the rhythmic clack of high heels against the glossy floor echoing in the room.

Sukuna, leaning casually against the wall, shot you a knowing glance. He had that smirk on his face, the one that hinted at his unshakable confidence. He was effortlessly cool, and you couldn't help but feed off that energy.

The theme of the show was glamorous rebellion—a fusion of elegance and edge, where bold designs and striking details were the focus. You were dressed in a breathtaking ensemble that turned heads even before the show began.

A sleek, figure-hugging dress with shimmering embellishments, its dramatic cut-outs giving you just the right mix of sophistication and daring. The heels you wore? Absolutely lethal—sky-high stilettos that elongated your figure, giving you the sensation that you could conquer not just the runway, but the world.

Meanwhile, Sukuna, in a custom-tailored suit that hugged his broad shoulders and accentuated his muscular build, was the perfect counterpart. The deep crimson of his suit jacket contrasted sharply against his black shirt, and the subtle metallic details gleamed under the runway lights. He exuded power and charisma, each step deliberate and commanding.

As you both stepped onto the runway, the atmosphere changed. The lights flashed in rhythm with the music, casting you and Sukuna in a dazzling, almost surreal glow. The crowd erupted into cheers, their excitement infectious.

The music pulsed through your veins, and with Sukuna by your side, you felt invincible. His smirk widened as he caught a few admiring gazes from the audience, and with each stride, the energy between you both grew, palpable and electrifying.

Each step was flawless. The click of your heels against the runway, perfectly timed with Sukuna's strides, created a symphony of dominance.

You could feel eyes on you, admiration and awe blending with envy, but none of that mattered. In that moment, it was just you and Sukuna—a force to be reckoned with. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a mischievous glint playing in his gaze, as if daring you to outshine him.

But this wasn’t a competition. It was an effortless partnership, the two of you ruling the runway together. Every turn, every pose, was perfectly synchronized, as though you had rehearsed this a hundred times over.

The lights continued to flicker, cameras flashing from every direction, immortalizing this moment. And as you reached the end of the runway, Sukuna extended his hand to you in a gentlemanly yet teasing manner. You took it, lifting your chin slightly, knowing that together, you had owned the night.

But halfway down the runway, disaster struck. One of your heels snapped, sending you wobbling dangerously to one side. You gasped, struggling to maintain your balance as you tried to recover. Just as you thought you might tumble, Sukuna swiftly reached out, his grip firm around your waist.

“Got you, doll!” he exclaimed, pulling you closer to him as he steadied you. The crowd gasped, and in that split second, you realized you were more grateful than embarrassed.

With a quick wink and a playful flourish, Sukuna helped you regain your composure, but the damage was done—your heel was officially broken. You could feel the adrenaline rush as you both finished the walk, the crowd cheering wildly, clearly enamored by the unexpected moment.

After the show, backstage was a flurry of activity. You hopped on one foot, trying to assess the damage to your broken heel when Sukuna, still riding the high of the show, turned to you. “You know, you could always go for a more comfortable look, doll.” he joked, gesturing toward his own stylish shoes.

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “And give up my fashion moment? Never!”

But as you tried to walk towards the exit, it became clear that you weren’t going to make it far without some help. Sensing your struggle, Sukuna stepped in, effortlessly scooping you up into his arms.

“Let’s get you to the car, fashionista.” he said with a playful grin, carrying you like a princess, drawing surprised looks from the crew and other models.

As you both exited the venue, a photographer snapped a picture of the moment. You could hear the clicking of cameras as people captured the scene—Sukuna, the effortlessly cool actor, carrying you, the fabulous rising star.

That single picture ended up circulating online like wildfire. The caption read: “Is this the most romantic moment of the fashion show? Sukuna carrying Y/N after her heel broke!”

The fan reactions were immediate and overwhelming.

“OMG, I can’t handle this cuteness! He genuinely loves her so much!”

“HE CARRIED HER! SOMEONE CALL THE AMBULANCE, I CAN’T BREATHE!”

“Y/N is literally living my dream. Sukuna is such a gentleman!”

You couldn’t help but smile as you read through the tweets, watching the fan base collectively lose their minds over the moment. You glanced up at Sukuna, who was now scrolling through his phone, clearly amused by the frenzy.

“Look at them go, doll.” he chuckled, a mix of pride and mischief in his eyes. “They’re all acting like we just starred in a rom-com.”

“Maybe we should consider it, bub.” you teased back, leaning your head against his shoulder as he carried you toward the car. “I mean, we both get the same rom-com lead offers. We might as well try.”

“Hm, I’ll think about it.”

“You better!”

As you reached the vehicle, Sukuna gently set you down, but not before the paparazzi snapped more pictures, capturing the laughter and playful banter between you both. You felt like the luckiest person in the world, surrounded by glitz and glamor, but even more, you cherished these moments with him.

Later that night, as you sat together scrolling through the flood of posts about the fashion show, Sukuna turned to you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “So, you think I should carry you everywhere now?”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Only if you promise to be this charming every time.”

“Deal, doll.” he replied with a sly smirk on his face. “But only if I get a kiss each and every time.”

You returned his sly smile. “You drive a heavy bargain, you know?”

“Well, I like good compensation, doll.”

“Hm. I’ll think about it, darling.”

And just like that, another adventure in this whirlwind of a journey began, one where fans eagerly awaited every twist and turn of your ever-evolving story. 

The following days were a whirlwind of activity, with the aftermath of the fashion show still buzzing across social media. Every time you opened your phone, there were new memes, edits, and posts highlighting Sukuna’s chivalrous act of carrying you out. 

One particularly popular meme featured a split image: on one side, a picture of you in your stunning outfit with the broken heel, and on the other, a screenshot of Sukuna’s smirk as he effortlessly carried you away. The caption read, “When you break a heel, but your knight in shining armor has your back.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you scrolled through the threads filled with comments like, “Where do I sign up for a carry from Sukuna?” and “No, but I need someone to love me like this. I need someone to lovingly help me in my fashion emergencies!”

“Looks like you’ve become a trendsetter, doll.” Sukuna teased, plopping down next to you on the couch. “Maybe we should make this a regular thing—fashion shows and heel emergencies.”

“Only if you promise to always be there to catch me, darling.” you shot back, smirking.

As you both continued to scroll through the chaos, an idea struck you. “We should do a follow-up interview about the fashion show! Imagine how much the fans would love to hear us talk about it, especially the heel incident.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You think they’d want to hear about our dramatic moment on the runway? You falling apart and me swooping in to save the day?”

“Absolutely!” You nodded, enthusiasm bubbling up. “I mean, it’s practically a rom-com waiting to happen. Plus, we can spend time together and promote our upcoming work together!”

“Alright, I’m in. But only if you let me wear those ridiculous heels next time….so you know, you can catch me too, doll.” he grinned, nudging you. 

You laughed out loud. “Alright, darling. Let’s find you a pair when we go shopping today.”

“Oh, that’s going to be a challenge then.”

“Hm, why not? It’s fun when we’re together in challenges!”

The next day, you both headed to the studio for the interview. As you settled into your seats, the host couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw you both. “So, the world has been going crazy over your little ‘heel disaster’ at the recent fashion show. Sukuna, what was going through your mind when you scooped Y/N up?”

Sukuna leaned back with a playful grin. “Honestly? I just thought it was a great opportunity to show off my impressive muscles and save the day. Plus, someone needed to make sure she didn’t fall on her face in front of everyone. I’d do anything for my doll, right here, you know?”

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “He’s so humble, isn’t he?Like, darling — come and get your credit too! It was more like a dramatic rescue scene, complete with the swoon-worthy soundtrack.”

The interview continued, with the two of you sharing laughs and stories about your experiences. Fans in the comments couldn’t get enough of the chemistry, throwing out heart emojis and excited remarks.

“Do you think you two will collaborate on a fashion line next?” one viewer asked, prompting a wave of excitement among the audience.

“Maybe we’ll do a ‘Y/N & Sukuna’ collection, won’t we, darling?” you said, leaning in. “You know, something chic but also… practical for when you break your heels!”

Sukuna feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. “Practical? I’m all about the drama! But I could see us doing something fun. Maybe some ‘Sukuna-approved’ footwear that won’t break under pressure? I think you’d love that, doll.”

As the interview was winding down, the host leaned in with a mischievous smile and asked the question that everyone had been waiting for: “So, any truth to the rumors that you two are dating?”

You barely had time to process it before you and Sukuna exchanged a look. Without missing a beat, both of you burst into uncontrollable laughter, the kind where you had to clutch your stomach and wipe away tears. Sukuna’s laugh? A deep, rumbling sound that somehow made the entire situation even funnier.

“I mean, who knows?” you said, still giggling as you tried to regain composure. “We care a lot for each other, though. But, you know, that’s our business!” You flashed a playful wink at the camera, trying to keep things light, but it was clear you were having too much fun with the moment. "Though, who wouldn’t want a guy who carries you when your heel breaks? My darling here is great with helping me out.”

Sukuna, not one to let you steal the spotlight, leaned in closer to the camera with a sly grin, his voice dropping an octave as he added, “I mean, who wouldn’t want to go and carry you and take care of you, doll?” He tilted his head in mock seriousness. “I love caring for you.”

The comment section immediately went into overdrive. The fans couldn’t handle it.

“THE FLIRTING?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”

“STOPPP THIS IS TOO MUCH MY HEART CAN’T TAKE IT.”

“If they’re not dating, then what's the real point of my life in this world, you guys?”

“Someone pls send help I’ve forgotten how to breathe.”

“Sukuna saying ‘I love caring for you’ like it’s casual?!? They’re married and I know it.”

“Can they just admit it already? WE KNOW.”

After the interview wrapped up, you both waved to the camera, still giggling, as the host thanked you. As soon as the cameras cut, your phones exploded with notifications. It seemed like every social media platform was on fire, fans spiraling into a frenzy over the playful banter.

There were memes of Sukuna carrying you like a princess, edits of the two of you in wedding attire, and screenshots of the moment Sukuna leaned into the camera like he was making a declaration of eternal love.

“I told you this would happen, bub.” you said, showing Sukuna the screen full of memes.

He glanced over and chuckled. “What, people can’t handle a little chemistry?” He shrugged nonchalantly, but you could see the hint of amusement in his eyes. He was enjoying this just as much as you were.

“Well, I guess we’re just going to have to keep them guessing.” you replied, throwing him a teasing grin.

Sukuna leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head. “Or maybe we just keep giving them something to talk about.”

“Well, I love talking about you anyway.” You look at him with a smile. “Don’t you like doing the same?”

He pauses for a second, but grins. “But don’t you already know that?”

“Yeah, I do. I just like hearing it.”

“Cheeky one, aren’t you, doll?”

You grin even wider at him. “Well, my favorite act of love are words of affirmation.”

As you walked out of the studio together, Sukuna looked at you with a smirk. “But you know, I think I could get used to this whole ‘carrying you’ thing. It really keeps the fans on their toes.”

“Oh, for sure.” you replied, nudging him playfully. “Just wait until they start shipping us harder.”

“Let them do their thing.” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’ll just keep carrying you around. I’m like a knight in shining armor, after all.”

You both laughed, knowing that the playful teasing and affectionate banter were only part of the adventure you were embarking on together. As the days went by, the trend only grew, with fans eagerly anticipating every new development in your story.

With each passing moment, the excitement around your dynamic seemed to intertwine your lives more and more, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something truly special.

[blitzyn]

shut up

childe x m!reader

request: none

a/n -> im sick and tired of winter WHERE IS SUMMER. help i wrote some of this in public so i had to stop myself from acting out some of the motions just to figure out how to write it lmao. guys i kinda made him a little mean i just got a little carried away oopsies. anyways one more non req and ill work on reqs i hope

wc -> 3.8k

cw -> very dubcon, hate sex, a lil bit of blood, anal sex, spit as lube, not a lot of prep, degradation, manhandling, throat fucking, asphyxiation, reader is a masochist, mean dom childe, spitting (in ur mouth like once), chokehold, prone bone position for like 2 seconds lmao, brief descriptions of fighting, reader offs someone cuz he felt like it kinda, it starts sorta abrupt tbh lol, not beta read

Childe fucking hated you. This was old news—absolutely anyone who had the barest idea who he was knew that. Everyone within a twenty meter radius could hear him arguing about something, and it never seemed to be about the same thing more than once. There always seemed to be something the two of you nitpicked about each other, throwing it out into the open which, more often than not, led to a fight with no clear winner.

There wasn’t anything anyone could do about it since the two of you were Harbingers. You were ranked tenth after Signora’s death and The Balladeer’s desertion, just behind Childe who was in ninth. But that didn’t stop you from riling him up relentlessly, even finding some type of enjoyment from his anger because you knew it wasn’t particularly common to see. Really, there wasn’t much of a power difference between the two of you other than the fact that you were less experienced.

As such, you were often assigned to missions together—if assigned meant that you simply joined him when you didn’t have anything important to do, much to his obvious displeasure.

This time, you followed him towards a hideout hidden between large rocks. It was simple, and you preferred that it wasn’t so easily accessible, but you supposed that hiding it in plain sight was acceptable for now.

“I don’t like how easy it is to find this place,” you commented, taking in your surroundings as if you were impressed by how large the area was compared to the small cave entrance. “It’s so obvious.”

Childe only offered you a grunt in acknowledgement, making his way past a few scattered materials on the floor. This wasn’t a facility that the Fatui used as much as before, but some machines were still operational and functioning.

“Ignoring people when they’re talking to you is rude, Tartaglia,” you chided, but you couldn’t care less that he wasn’t responding. “Besides, it’s not like you disagree with me. You wouldn’t want a poor, helpless child accidentally stumbling across this place while they’re playing a game.”

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and you could see him grit his teeth when he noticed the smug expression on your face. “Nobody’s gonna find the entrance. It’s been around for years and there hasn’t been a trespasser.”

“Really?” You hummed, nodding slowly to yourself. “If you say so.”

He eyed you warily, instantly skeptical of how quick you were to accept his statement. But that wasn’t important right now—he needed to retrieve some documents and collect money from a few debtors.

“Just… Just stay here. Don’t touch anything,” he instructed, unnerved by how you obediently sat on a rickety chair and watched him expectantly.

“Yessir,” you replied with a playful tone in your voice, crossing your arms over your chest comfortably.

He silently stared at you for a few moments. “What are you planning?” He blurted out, annoyed with the eyebrow you raised in question. “You don’t like listening to me.”

You rolled your eyes at his accusation. “I don’t really favor getting chewed out by whoever needs those papers, so hurry up and get what you need. I’d rather talk to the debtors, anyways.”

He didn’t move from his spot for a few more moments before hesitantly making his way toward an isolated room, seemingly accepting your response. You chuckled through your nose at his reluctance as you swirled your finger around, creating a small rabbit made out of Cryo. It was quiet and unassuming as it silently hopped around before you sent it out of the room, searching for any valuable items worth keeping as you waited.

You leaned back in boredom, shutting your eyes to focus on keeping the rabbit's form. You could feel a faint hint of interest radiating through you from your creation, cringing slightly at the smell of metal before you relaxed again. The rabbit was mid-search when an arrow whizzed past it, nicking its back. Quickly, it fled, leaving a trail of Cryo. The hunter cursed loudly and chased after it, but it wasn't long before it made it to its destination.

Curious, you released your focus on the rabbit as you stood up to pick up whatever it found. You looked up when the hunter suddenly walked through the cave entrance, slightly surprised to know that they hadn't stopped trying to go after your rabbit. The two of you stared at each other before you spoke up in mild disinterest.

"Can I help you?" You questioned, inspecting your find once again. It was shiny and had intricate designs on it, but ultimately worthless.

"Uh... Uh, yes! Yes, you can," they said after a moment, scoping the area in search of their nonexistent rabbit. "Have you seen a white rabbit run through here? Small, quick, and leaving some sort of trail behind it," they described eagerly, taking a few steps forward.

"I'm afraid you can't come in here," you said, raising a hand to stop them in their tracks. You analyzed them for a moment, taking in their appearance. They couldn't have been older than fifteen, with shaggy brown hair and tanned skin.

"Then why are you in here?" They countered stubbornly, crossing their arms. It seemed they forgot all about their hunt in favor of digging into your business.

"That's none of your concern," you replied, ignoring their questioning gaze above your shoulder. "If you don't leave now, I'll have to resort to force."

You bristled a little when you saw them roll their eyes. Too stubborn for their own good, apparently. "Yeah? Well, I'm the chief's kid. What's a weird-looking guy like you gonna do to me?"

You frowned, visibly offended. You stared at them for a moment before raising your dominant hand again, this time letting an icicle form on the tip of your middle finger before flicking it directly at them. In the blink of an eye, they went down with a loud thud. "Kill you," you replied to the body.

You walked up to them and lifted their head by their hair, examining the wound on their forehead with a hum. Blood leaked in copious amounts down their face, and you couldn't stop the grimace when some landed on your foot.

"Oh, shit," you hissed under your breath when you caught a better look at them. You wondered why they seemed so vaguely familiar to you when the realization suddenly hit you-the chief was one of the debtors. You pursed your lips before standing up with a shrug, placing a hand on your chin to ponder different ways to dispose of the body without tarnishing the Fatui's name even further. "I suppose I could just toss them in a lake? Or lure in a wild animal to eat them? Burning's too obvious..."

"What the fuck did you just do?" You heard Childe curse from behind you. You turned around to face him, eyebrow twitching in interest when you noticed his normally void eyes alight with fury. Honestly, though, you didn't quite understand why he seemed so upset. Maybe it was because of how transactions with the debtor may not go as smoothly as he wanted, or the fact that the person you killed was still technically a child.

"Someone found the entrance," you shrugged, unbothered by his reaction. "We don't want anyone finding important information about the Fatui, right? So I killed them. I told you it was easy to spot." You rolled your eyes like it was the most obvious thing ever, which only served to anger him. You tried to make your way past him deeper into the facility in search of something interesting to take when a sudden blur slammed your body into a wall. You let out a pained grunt, instinctively wrapping your fingers around the wrist where he pinned you down by your throat.

You knew he was ruthless when he needed to be, but you weren't given a chance to see it with your own eyes up until now. He was far from gentle, holding your delicate neck with such ferocity it made your skin tingle. It was exhilarating.

"Like hell they just conveniently found the entrance," he spat, his voice low as he glared deep into your watering eyes. "You deliberately lured them in here, didn't you? And for what? Because you were bored?" He refused to slacken the hold around your throat, internally finding that he preferred how you looked when you couldn't breathe.

"You—cough—You're much the s-same, Tartaglia," you strained out, trying to furiously blink away your tears. "Don't pretend you don't crave vi-violence, too."

You could see him grit his teeth just before he tossed you to the floor, watching you cough and regain your breath with disdain in his eyes. "No. Don't compare me to a fucking psychopath like you. I don't kill kids just because I feel like it!"

"To-may-to, to-mah-to," you groaned, rubbing your sore skin. You could still feel his hand around your throat, his grip burned into your flesh in a way that sent a familiar heat through your groin. He took a second to examine your body before zeroing in on the growing bulge between your legs, disbelief written on his expression.

"There's no damn way," he muttered to himself as if trying to convince himself you weren't aroused by him strangling you. With a growl, he stepped forward and harshly pressed a foot on your crotch, merciless with the amount of pressure he used. He watched in disgust as your hips jerked in response, frowning deeply at the pained moan you let out. "You're seriously turned on?"

"If it wasn't obvious—" You were unceremoniously cut off by a swift kick to your jaw, accidentally biting down on your tongue. You tasted the metallic tang of your own blood that originated from your mouth and your nose, wiping it away quickly. Your cock only throbbed with an increased fervor in your pants that strained for release against the fabric.

"Shut the fuck up," he snarled, staring down at you for a few moments, deciding what to do with you now that he had this newfound information in his hands.

"What's gotten you so upset?" You teased him, obviously not taking your situation seriously. You felt a pleasurable chill run down your spine at the fierce look he gave you, sitting up a bit in anticipation when you saw his hand stray down toward his pants, roughly undoing them.

"You just can't shut your mouth, can you?" He hissed, leaning forward a bit to grab a handful of your hair. He yanked you closer, forcing you onto your knees as he pressed the tip of his flaccid cock against your waiting tongue. "Fine, then. I'll shut it for you."

You hummed at the salty taste of his skin, raising your hands up to hold onto the swell of his muscular thighs. He groaned quietly when you dragged your tongue along a prominent vein on the underside of the shaft, looking up at him through your lashes. You let out a garbled moan when he forced you all the way down to the base, seemingly satisfied with the way you gagged a little.

Your nose was buried within his pubic hair as your throat tightened and spasmed, feeling yourself beginning to drool as the thick strands of saliva seeped out of the corners of your lips. You could hardly breathe, but you loved it. You loved the way he tugged on your scalp, starting to move his hips back and forth. You tried to contribute as much as you could, but the way you could feel his cock hardening sent a pleasant ache through your jaw.

"Fucking hell... You're not fit to be a Harbinger," he spat, holding you still as he reached down to swipe a bit of the blood from your nose to messily wipe it on your cheek. You couldn't see what he was doing, but the patterned swipes made it clear what he was writing.

S, L, U, T.

The word sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You could feel your cock twitch in your pants, leaking a profuse amount of precum that served to stain the fabric. You let out a moan and slipped a hand underneath your clothes, jerking yourself off shamelessly.

He let out a breathy scoff at the sight, but he couldn't help the way his dick throbbed when your throat squeezed around him. "You're too good at this," he groaned, gradually moving his hips faster until he was fucking your face. "You don't belong in the Fatui. You're better off at a goddamn whorehouse."

He relished in the sound of your chokes and gags, finding that he preferred this much more than your voice. He let out a heavy sigh and shut his eyes, tilting his head back in ecstasy as he lost himself in the sensations. He was unaware of how you shifted your hand lower, using your precum as a subpar replacement for lube to push two of your fingers in your hole. You weren't in any particular rush as you leisurely pumped them in and out of you, adding in the wet sounds to your strained moans and ragged breaths. You were brought back to your senses when you heard him bark out a mocking laugh, squinting up at him through the tears that accumulated along your lashes.

"You're fucking pathetic," he muttered lowly, almost to himself, but you knew it was directed at you. "Is this—shit—all it took? You just needed a dick shoved down your throat, huh? Should've known you were such a whore," he demeaned, and you could only whine in response. Suddenly, he leaned a bit forward to press the sole of his shoe onto your aching cock, watching intently at the way you choked in surprise. "Maybe the rest of us should get a turn with you? Turn you into our little fucktoy? Our good-for-nothing cumdump?"

A grin made its way onto his pale face, turned on with the amount of control he had over you. His left hand slid lower, maintaining a firm grip on the junction between the back of your head and neck as his other one moved up to pinch your nostrils shut. He thrust harder, faster, shuffling closer when you tried to tilt your head away. He ignored your muffled protests and focused solely on getting himself off, letting out satisfied groans that you weren't fully there to appreciate.

It wasn't until you could hear a high-pitched ringing did he finally cum, shooting his load down your throat without a care for whether or not you could properly swallow it. He held himself there for a moment longer before he pulled himself away with a harsh shove to your body. You coughed and panted hard, taking a moment to regain your composure before looking back up at him, eager for more.

"Still not satisfied?" He questioned rhetorically. You both knew you weren't done yet, not when you found out how he could get when you pushed his buttons just the right way. "Stupid question, huh?" He huffed a laugh through his nose before roughly kicking you onto your stomach, dropping to his knees not a moment later. He haphazardly tugged your pants and underwear down in one go, ignoring the pained hiss you made when you felt yourself sandwiching your drooling cock between your abdomen and the floor. He spread your ass apart to spit on your asshole, shoving a finger inside you for good measure before jerking himself off using some of his saliva.

"Tartaglia, please—hurry," you whined, looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. It was satisfying to see you in such a pitiful state, but the sound of your voice, although hoarse and raw, annoyed him.

"Be quiet or I'll leave you here like this," he snapped, giving your asscheek a quick slap before positioning himself over your hole. He rubbed the tip of it against your skin for a moment before pushing himself inside, groaning loudly at the feeling of you clamping down on him so perfectly.

It fucking hurt; after all, you only used two meager fingers to prepare yourself, and even then, you hadn't done much. It burned like he was tearing you apart but in the best damn way. The pain of being stretched out so mercilessly only mixed in with the insatiable fire in your groin, shooting jolts of electricity up your spine so intense you nearly came on the spot.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Tartaglia, please, you're so—!" You cut yourself off with a moan when he suddenly slammed himself down all the way, ramming the head of his cock against your sensitive prostate.

"I said shut up!" He demanded, pressing his hips down to grind against you. He wasn't as deep as he could go in this position, but he still managed to fill you up just right. You groaned when he leaned down, pinning you to the ground with his body weight as an arm snaked around the front of your throat, pressing it against you firm enough to restrict some of your airflow.

Instinctively, you raised a hand to grab at his forearm, digging your nails into the scarred skin in a futile attempt to get him to ease up. You could hear every sound that left his lips, every labored breath that brushed the shell of your ear. It didn't take him long to start moving, pulling out until only the tip remained before slamming back into you mercilessly. You could feel every inch and vein with each drag of his cock, your body jolting alongside his harsh thrusts, grinding your dick up and down on the ground.

"God... you're so damn tight," he muttered, picking up the pace. A low moan escaped his throat when he pressed against your prostate just right, ignoring your fleeting struggle.

It was hard to breathe. You could feel him everywhere around you all at once, and it didn't help that he fucked you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs. Your moans and whines were strained and hoarse, clawing at his arm, but you knew you didn't really want him off. Your body ached at his rough handling as wet slaps echoed through the abandoned facility, briefly wondering if anyone outside could hear, but you could hardly maintain your train of thought long enough for it to become a concern. He fucked you fast and rough, hips slamming against your ass hard enough to sting, but he didn't find it in himself to care.

"Tar-Tartaglia! Slow...—!" You tried to plead, beginning to find everything overwhelming when you cut yourself off with a squeal. He quickly shifted himself, leaning back to hold your throat with his hands as he pulled, forcing your back to arch uncomfortably.

"No," he replied, tilting his upper half over you just enough to spit in your gaping mouth. He felt you tighten in response as he relaxed his hold the slightest bit, feeling you swallow his saliva eagerly. "You wanted this. So you're gonna fucking take it."

The heat in your belly intensified to an unbearable degree, and with the way he practically filled up every crevice of your hole, you weren't sure you were going to last much longer. With one hand on your throat, he moved his other one down to spread one of your asscheeks to intently watch his cock move in and out of you. He could feel every twitch and shudder you made, and it satisfied him to know just how easy you were to break down despite your initial resistance.

"Fuck... I can feel you," he groaned, yanking your head back a bit to get you to look at him. "You're about to cum, huh?"

It was hard to find the right words to reply when he fucked every thought out of your head, but the panic in your eyes made it clear that you didn't want him to stop so suddenly. And although he wanted to see you beg like the whore you were, he needed to finish this quickly. He still had a job to do, after all.

"You're lucky I still need to collect some money," he growled, glaring at you with familiar disdain. "Otherwise I would've left you like this for hours."

With renewed vigor, he removed his hand from your throat to roughly push your face down by the back of your head, tugging your hips up to bury himself deeper inside your ass. You cried out in ecstasy as your eyes rolled back, making an attempt to withhold your orgasm when he wrapped his fingers around your throbbing cock, jerking you off in time with his punishing thrusts, but to no avail. Barely a moment later, you came with a loud moan, cumming so hard it left you lightheaded and dizzy.

He chased after his own release, giving you a few more rough thrusts before he stilled, burying himself as deep as he could go inside you. You could feel his thick cock throbbing as he filled you up with his cum, shuddering at the warmth before you slumped back down to the ground. He remained still for a moment longer, catching his breath while he watched you tremble. With a sigh, he pulled out, grimacing a little at the sight of his dick slick with fluids, but he tucked it back in his pants regardless.

"Get up. We have to hide the body and get to the chief before anyone finds out you killed his kid," he said impatiently, walking towards the hunter to inspect it.

"Just... Just bury them, or something," you suggested, taking a moment to calm down before pulling your pants up. Finding a reflective surface, you summoned a bit of your Cryo and melted it with your body heat to wipe away the crusted blood on your face.

"Eugh... I can feel your cum," you found the energy to complain, turning to face Childe with annoyance written on your face. The audacity.

"Shut up and let's go. We're already behind schedule after your bullshit." He scowled, picking up the body, already having decided what to do with it. At least it wasn't your problem anymore.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say," you said, quickly fixing your appearance. If it weren't for the slight limp in your gait, nobody would be able to tell he just fucked you within an inch of your life. Perks of being a Harbinger, you suppose.

cross-posted on ao3

[schrodinger-swriter]

The main cast of Hazbin hotel on Valentine's day

I know I may be a little late. I had to do some shopping today and hadn't had the motivation or time to get down and write until now! I apologize is some characters are given more writing than others... the truth is that I am bised for some characters or simply have more for them. :C

Regardless I hope you enjoy these, I likely won't do these large posts very often.

CHARLIE:

I hope you can forgive me for being a little short on Charlie's part, I had stated earlier what she would do for the holiday in an alphabet post! But to recap she makes you a mixtape with songs dedicated to you, songs made by her and songs she knows you like! The case is handmade too, covered in hearts as well as having a hand written note inside further expressing her affections for you. She would also give you some of your favorite candies! Expect to go out and do something fun and romantic too!

VAGGIE:

Much lower compared to her canon partner, Vaggie is not much of an enjoyer of the holiday. She keeps her thoughts to it to herself, though sometimes you might find her grumbling about all the pink and the red. She just doesn't enjoy the aesthetic all that much. However despite that she will still participate if she knows it will make her significant other happy! She would get you something small, like a stuffed animal and some flowers.

ANGEL DUST:

Respectfully stealing this idea from my mutual, but he already gets so many gifts and cards from his crazed horny fans. He hardly has the room for any more! Though.. he probably sells a lot of it for some extra cash, only keeping some of the candies. If you get him something, he probably wouldn't sell it. He's actually touched. In terms of what he does for you, he might treat you to a night full of him... in more ways than one if you're open to it. If you don't feel like going out he's fine with staying inside and watching some movies in his rooms... perhaps it's a deserved break after a rough day during the love season.

ALASTOR:

Similar to Vaggie, Alastor wouldn't do much. He understands the purpose of the holiday, but he simply. Does not care for it all that much. However I do rather enjoy the though of Alastor sending letters to his friends (Mimzy, Rosie, Niffty, ect). He even puts them in fancy envelopes and seals them with wax. How nice is that? If he can, he might even send a box of chocolates. Fingers, in Rosie's case. However, he doesn't do much to celebrate outside of that. That's assuming he sends anything at all, anyway.

SIR PENTIOUS:

He would go all out. He might even make a machine dedicated to you and gift it. He makes a mechanical heart that beats and gives it to you. He gives you all of the candy he can get his hands on, not exactly sure what you prefer. He takes you out for the night, to the nicest restaurant he can go to without getting jumped (because let's be honest... his days of trying to pick fights and climb to power has probably landed him with some enemies...). He's a total gentleman on the date, opening the door for you and pushing in your chair for you. Considering he's a little flustered that he is on a date with you, everything goes smoothly.

HUSKER:

He likes to stay in, but you can count that if you manage to get him to go out it's going to be a to a club or bar. Anywhere with alcohol. He'd much rather prefer a bar, since it's usually... lower in energy. He also isn't much of a Valentine's person, and he does show his disdain. He does tone down on talking negatively about the day around you, so there's that at least. A simple night in with an affirmation of love is enough for Husk.

NIFFTY:

She bakes you something and perhaps sews you something. A red throw pillow in the shape of a heart. Though you may have to tell her that's what you want because otherwise she's going to try something akin to the roach crown.... shivers... The baked goods are actually pretty good, and you'll be snacking on them for the rest of the week due to Niffty getting too excited and making too many. She will stab someone with a needle if they try to take one without asking you first.

LUCIFER:

He also goes all out, it might actually be a little overwhelming! He can conjure nearly anything he can think of, if his song was being literal! He wants to make sure you're loved, and that there's no possible way that you would ever think otherwise. Despite this he might rather stay inside, or maybe alter the home to look more fancy to make a mock dinner. Generally very sweet and you will be drowning in gifts from the second you wake up to the minute you go to sleep. He also makes you breakfast in bed.