#actually crying a little no one look at me

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Neighbour - Noncon

With your electricity out and your devices dead, you have no choice but to turn to your neighbour for help. He's more than willing to welcome you into his home. Really, you're lucky he's such a nice guy.

Tags: male yandere x gender neutral reader, noncon, somno, just the tip anal, daddy kink but only if you squint, 3.3k words

Living in the middle of nowhere had its perks. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

But after the third day with no electricity, those perks were starting to look pretty damn weak. Your fridge was sitting in an ever expanding puddle. Almost all your devices were dead. And if you had to take one more cold shower you were going to cry.

It was when you were digging through your drawer looking for desperately needed batteries that you found your neighbour's number. He'd offered it to you a little while after you moved in, and while you two were on friendly terms, you'd never actually spoken for longer than a few minutes. You sighed, looked at the 10% left on your phone and decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

You: hey, it's me. I still haven't got any power. Do you mind if I come over to charge some stuff?

He replied almost instantly.

Unknown: aww that sucks

Unknown: come on over. I've got hot stew and a generator

Unknown: and you can take a hot shower too if you want

Score. And to think you found him intimidating at first. Just goes to show that you can't judge on appearances. You packed a change of clothes, your devices and the last tub of ice cream that wasn't totally melted. You'd find some way to properly pay him back but a tub of chocolate fudge double cream wasn't a bad way to start.

He was waiting on his porch when you pulled up. A bear of a man in a flannel and blue jeans, a five o' clock shadow darkening his jaw.

"Howdy neighbour," he drawled, opening your door for you while you grabbed your stuff. "Regretting leaving the city yet?"

You huffed a laugh. "You do NOT want to know the answer to that."

His cabin was much larger than yours, a two storey behemoth with wide windows and exposed beams. It had a rustic charm - like some natural park Air BnB where they charged a weeks pay for just one night. A little too big for just one man. Didn't he get lonely?

"I brought some ice cream and chocolate to say thank you. And also because it miiight have been melting."

He opened the door for you and ushered you through with a hand on your lower back.

"Hell, I'll never say no to something sweet."

There was a fire burning in the fireplace and a stack of logs in a crate next to it. He was so much better suited to this life than you were. He locked the door behind you and slipped the keys into his pocket.

"Old habit," he explained with an easy grin.

"Why don't you get settled? I'll plug your stuff in."

You handed over your tech with a relieved sigh.

"Thank you. Really. I'm so behind on work already and I haven't heard anything back from the power company."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," he said. "Once ended up going a week straight with not even a light bulb flickering."

You winced. "It gets that bad?"

"Yep. Especially in winter. Gets dangerous then too."

He tilted his head at you, concerned. "You need to get yourself better sorted before it starts snowing. I hate to think of you stuck out there when the blizzards start rolling in."

God, could you be any more of a city slicker? You rubbed your neck, embarrassed.

"Thanks. I've been here a few months now and I guess I just didn't realise how serious things can get."

"It's all good. But if I'm honest, I get worried thinking about you out there all alone. Plenty of drifters end up passing through. Not a good place to be alone, not for a little thing like yourself."

Little? You wanted to feel indignant, but looking at his bulk, you reckoned that most folk probably seemed little to him.

He lead you to the fireplace and poured you a mug of coffee from the pot that was waiting for you. He jerked his head at the hunting rifle on display above the mantle.

"I can teach you to shoot, if you've got some free time."

You took a sip of the coffee, internally debating with yourself. You could see the sense in your offer but you weren't a big fan of guns. Hell, just being around them was nerve wrecking enough. Maybe -

You looked down at your mug in surprise.

"This is some really good stuff."

The coffee was strong, bitter in the best sort of way. You could catch a hint of chocolate in it too. Just sweet enough to make your toes curl.

" 'Course. Only the best for my guest. Help yourself to another cup. I'll just put your stuff on charge and be right back."

You finished your drink in a few sips and happily poured a second serving. Hot coffee... man, you didn't think three days without it would be so tough. Usually, you were pretty sensitive to caffeine. But by the time your neighbour came back, your head was tilted back and you were half asleep.

You tried to shake yourself out of it but he just laughed and pushed you back down.

"You probably haven't had a good sleep since the power went out. Just rest. We can talk once you wake up."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's fine." His hand was still on your shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into your neck. "It's just fine with me."

You drifted off after that. Into a deep sleep without any dreams. Waking up was like slogging through molasses.

"Finally up sleepy head?"

It was dark outside and your neighbour was on one knee in front of the fire place, coaxing fresh wood to catch.

You sat up slowly. Your muscles ached and there was a strange, salty taste on your tongue.

"My heads killing me..."

He stood, poker still in his hand. "You must be starving then. I've already got some food on the stove. You'll feel better after you eat."

You didn't feel hungry at all. If anything, you felt almost hangover.

"Thanks," you managed. "I'm sorry to be such a bother."

He waved you away. "I don't mind a bit."

He came back with a bowl of steaming hot chow and stood with his arms crossed on the back of your couch while you ate.

"It's real late. I reckon you should stay over. I don't want you driving on dirt when it's so dark."

"Oh, it's fine. I've already put you out so much."

"Don't be silly. I insist."

You shivered without meaning to. That almost growl, low and bordering on menacing. It was so familiar, so...

"Just like that. Look at you, half asleep and still desperate for my cock."

"You like the taste? Yeah, I bet you fucking do."

"Ain't just gonna use your mouth next time."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Where the hell was this coming from? Were you remembering some sick dream from this afternoon?

"You okay there neighbour?"

You nodded. "Just my head."

Maybe he was right. Driving when you were so disorientated was just asking for trouble.

"If you really don't mind... I'll be happy to sleep over."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling thing. "I'll make the guest room up special, just for you."

"Could I use your shower too?"

"I offered didn't I? Come on, I'll show you where it is."

He took you to the master bedroom and jerked his thumb at the en-suite.

"Hot water is the most reliable in there. Door doesn't close that well though, so don't mind it. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

You brushed your teeth carefully. You lips felt sore, bruised in a way you couldn't explain.

You waited until you heard his footsteps going down the stairs before you stripped off your clothes. You stood under the hot water for a good few minutes, luxuriating in the feeling. The bathroom was thick with steam when you finally got to scrubbing yourself. The door was open just a crack and the bedroom beyond was dark. You forgot all about it until you heard the creak of the hinges.

You whirled to face the door, your hands coming up to cover yourself. The steam was too thick to see through. You called his name.

Nothing.

You stepped out with suds still on your thighs and pushed the door open. The room beyond was empty.

You sighed. God, you were being paranoid. Your neighbour was a great guy. It was unfair of you to treat him like a peeping tom when he'd gone out of his way to make you comfortable. It must have been just an errant draught.

You stepped back into the shower and rinsed yourself off. But no matter what you told yourself, you still kept an eye on the door.

When you went to change into your fresh clothes, you spent at least five minutes hunting for your underwear. Did you drop it somewhere? Oh, please say your undies weren't just sitting in the middle of his hallway. That would be beyond embarrassing.

Eventually you gave up and just decided to go without them. Not comfortable at all but still better than walking around in a towel to look for them. And much better than calling your neighbour in to help. Wouldn't that be fun? 'Hey neighbour that I don't know that well, you haven't seen my intimates lying around, have you?' Yeah, you'd never again get invited over after something like that.

When you were dressed, you found him already on his way up the hall. He was carrying a glass of water and some pills.

"Thought you might still have a headache, so I brought you some painkillers."

You paused, nervous but not sure why.

"Thanks." His hands dwarfed yours when he handed them over. You didn't recognise the name of on the pills, but they looked harmless. You tossed them back and gagged at the bitter aftertaste.

"They pack a punch, so tell me when you start to get drowsy."

"Aye aye captain."

You followed him to the guest room. It was at the very back on the second story, quieter than the rest of the house. A huge glass wall gave you a view of the forest disappearing into the darkness. You could see the ghost of your reflection in the glass, your neighbour a hulking, shapeless mass at your shoulder.

He took a seat in an armchair across form the bed and stretched out his legs. You perched on the edge of the mattress, still feeling a bit like an intruder.

"How long have you been staying out here?” you asked.

He smiled at you, teeth glinting almost wolf-like. "Got you curious?"

"A little. Folk in town say they hardly see you. I don't know... I'm just wondering if you ever get lonely."

He was quiet and you cursed yourself for being so nosy. You hurried to fill the silence.

"It's just that I get a bit lonely out here too. 'Specially when it's so quiet. And I guess I was wondering if it's the same for you."

He smiled at you, rueful. "At times. Used to be worse, but I've got a new interest to keep me occupied nowadays."

"Oh yeah? What?"

"Bird watching."

"Really? What do you look for?"

The way the room was lit up, you couldn't see his eyes. They fell into shadow and you only had his lips to read his emotions by. He smirked, slow and almost mocking.

"Just one bird I look out for. Flighty little thing. Tends to get caught by predators a lot. You’d probably recognise it."

The polite thing to do would be to ask what it was called. You didn't. Some part of whispered that you wouldn't like the answer.

You must have been quiet a little too long because he took it as his cue to leave. He stood, a mountain of muscle, his eyes not quite as nice as they seemed that afternoon. A trick of the light, surely. He wouldn't hurt a fly.

"You rest up. Got a busy day tomorrow."

"G'night."

He was gone before you thought to ask what he meant. And you were passed out on your pillows before you realised it. He was right. The pills sure did pack one hell of a punch.

You were aware of a shadow at the end of your bed. You weren't fully awake, and your limbs were slow and heavy with more than just sleep.

"Who..."

The shadow reached down and one warm paw circled your ankle.

"Just me little bird."

You knew that voice. It was the voice that brought you warm food and invited you in from the cold. You could trust it. Could go back to sleep and not worry about anything.

'No,' some part of you hissed, 'He's not as safe as you think.'

"Cold..."

The shadow laughed and it was the laugh of the fox finding the rabbit's den. Nasty. Hungry.

"Cold huh? Don't worry baby. I'll warm you right up."

He yanked your ankle towards him and your whole body slid down the bed. You were too drowsy to stop it.

"Knew you were gonna be mine the second I saw you," he cooed, hands running up your thighs.

His fingers slipped under your waistband, nails scraping your hip bones.

"Dumb little thing from the city. Doesn't even realise I've tripped all their breakers. That's why you don't have power baby. It's all me."

His fingers were as big as the rest of him. Thick, meaty. Skin rough from working outdoors. You whined when his fingertips scraped the edges of your hole.

"No underwear. You needy slut. That's practically a written and signed invitation to fuck you."

He pulled your pants down to your ankles and pushed your knees up to your stomach. And you were too out of it to stop him. Limp and pliable as a fuck doll.

Your tight ass was exposed to the cold air, entirely at the mercy of whatever he wanted to do.

"Cute." He circled his thumb around the rim, almost pushing in but not quite. "Wanted to be in this ass since you first showed up at my door all those months ago. Lookin' up at me all sweet. Fuck, it's enough to drive a man to desperation."

He lowered his head and you could feel his warm breath washing over your thighs.

He dragged his tongue across your hole. Some part of you must have been more awake than the rest, because your whole body jerked away from him.

"None of that," he cooed, hands digging into your thighs and dragging you back. "I haven't even gotten started yet."

He licked you again, deeper this time. The flexed tip of his tongue pushing at your entrance, and to your dull horror, actually slipping in. He moaned and you could feel the vibrations all through your crotch.

He pulled out and spat, rubbed it in with his fingers. One of them pushed in until the second joint, curling into your walls so rough that you gasped.

"Please..."

"Please what?" he mocked. "Please fuck my tight little ass? Please cum inside me? Use your words little bird."

"Please...stop..."

That made him laugh again, made him shove his finger in all the way to the knuckle. Twisting so cruelly as he pulled out and jerked back in.

"Stop? Stop? After all the work it took to get you here? No way baby. I'm not slowing down and I'm sure as fuck not stopping."

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, followed by a sharp intake of breath when he nudged his leaking head against your hole.

"You’re not going to remember this. And I'm not going to leave any evidence."

He pushed your legs tighter against your chest.

"So as much as I want to fuck you rotten, you're gonna have to be happy with just the tip."

He'd done a good job loosening and lubing you, but it still burned like a hot poker when he forced his way in. He groaned, almost in pain.

"You're fucking choking me. God, do you want my cum so bad?"

You could feel when the tip was in. That tiny difference in thickness between his head and shaft was oh so noticeable when your ass was clenching and fluttering around it. It was the smallest mercy, but mercy nonetheless.

He was panting from the effort of getting it in, the effort of holding back. The size difference between you almost perverse. Like a draft stallion trying to mount a pony. In every way, he was just too fucking big.

He spat in his hand and brought it to his cock, ran his palm up and down his shaft with sickly wet strokes. The combination of his palm and your squeezing ass was fucking delicious.

He had great stamina but fuck if it didn't feel like you were milking him.

He let go long enough to smack your ass. It almost finished him. You clenched around him so hard it felt like his tip was getting fucking crushed.

"Shiiiit, you're the best hole I've ever had. Can't wait 'til I can go all the way."

You whined, pitiful as snared prey. There were words there, though they were too slurred to make out. Something about Daddy and please and stop. He ignored you.

He pushed in a little deeper and watched your face scrunching up. So helpless, so fucking caught. That was what did it. The knowledge that he could do this to you at any point and you'd be helpless to stop it.

He came inside you, snarling through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to bruise. You'd notice the marks in the morning and chalk it up to just being clumsy. But he'd know. He'd see the bruises peeking out from the hem of your shorts and his cock would twitch just a little at the memory of leaving them.

His cock pulsed. Shot strings of spunk deep inside you. You could feel it. Hot, too hot. Gross. Make it stop. Get it out.

He pulled out with a wet pop. His cum drooled down and he took a minute to work it back into you with his finger. Your hole was gaping just a little and it made his balls pulse. If he had the time...

"A real fucking mess. And on my good sheets too. You're a terrible guest."

He mopped up whatever cum remained with a balled up piece of martial that he pulled from his pocket. Even in you stupor, you recognised it as your missing underwear.

"Terrible guest, but the perks of having you around are pretty fucking sweet."

He dropped your knees back to the mattress, pulled your pants back into place and roughly yanked the duvet over you. He grabbed your jaw and smiled at the lost, drowsy look in your half open eyes.

"Got a big day tomorrow. Gonna wake up and find your whole house was flooded. Ruined. Gonna have nowhere to stay but with me."

He sounded smug. It made your guts twist.

Outside, the night grew quiet. A predator was hunting and most prey knew better than to catch its attention.

"I made sure of it. All your family and friends in the city are away from home. There's no one around to help you out..."

He tightened his grip just enough to watch the fear start dancing in your eyes.

"No one...except me."

He let you go and smiled that same warm, comforting smile from that afternoon.

"Dumb little thing. Got no clue how your water mains work, do you? Got no idea how easy they are to sabotage."

He tutted. "Got me so damn busy. I'm gonna have to run to your place, fuck shit up and be back here before you wake up for real."

He traced his index finger over your lips and left behind a sticky coating of spunk. You'd wake up tasting salt again, with no memory of why.

"But it's fine. I forgive you. After today we'll have plenty of time together. Rest of our lives in fact. So just sleep tight and forget what you think you've dreamed."

There are perks to living in the middle nowhere. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

There are perks, but unfortunately for you, your neighbour isn't one of them.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

not editing this or proofreading it. school is hard, so all you guys get is my shower thoughts for now 😔 this shit is so unserious. i also lost motivation for this one, so… have this

cw- demon!sukuna, chubby!reader, smut, mdni

imagine summoning demon sukuna on accident in your sleep only to find out he’s actually an incubi.

he stares at you with a smoldering gaze as his wets his lips with his forked tongue. he’s eager to indulge, and you are the perfect prey.

seeing this as something you can use to your own advantage, you ask him to take care of your little “problem”… the problem being that you’re a complete loser virgin.

also, this is just a dream, right? it’s not like you’re going to suffer any real life consequences! maybe your subconscious will come up with a juicy enough scenario to satisfy your urges without having to look for a real man because… ew.

the only dick you’re getting is in your dreams… that is until he reveals to you that he actually has two dicks.

“o-oh!” you gape as you’re unable to tear your eyes away from him. two whole dicks… his presence is suffocating in your mind.

“already taking back your request, woman?” he asks in a low rumble. he’s definitely challenging you right now.

“no! it’s not like it’ll hurt-“

your words are cut off by him removing the sheets that were covering your body. he curls a finger into the waistband of your panties, and he can feel his mouth already begin to salivate from the promise of burying his tongue so deeply into your weeping pussy until you’re writhing and begging for a break.

however, his one track mind is completely halted once he lays eyes on said slickened pussy.

“what- is something wrong?” you quickly ask, looking down for yourself. not a fictional dream man already making you feel self conscious about your body.

“you’re hairless.” he notes bluntly, leaning in to get a closer inspection.

“stop that!” you bat him away, crossing your legs so he can’t see you anymore.

“don’t hide yourself from me.” you swear you hear him growl as he forces your plush thighs back open. he leans in closer, and he takes a deep breath. the scent of your arousal has him throbbing in need, but he’s completely mesmerized by the fact that there’s not any hair.

“did you just sniff me-?” you ask, unsure if you want the answer to that question or not.

“you smell normal.” he remarks with the same blunt tone. he then leans into you — his warm breath caresses your sensitive skin, and you feel your back arch involuntarily for him.

his tongue laps just once, savoring you as if he’s at a fucking wine tasting, and your virgin ass is already on the cusp from a little lick. you whine, trying to lift your hips as if to silently ask for more.

“you taste perfect.” he continues with his observations before his long fingers gently caress the small bundle of nerves that only you have ever touched, and fuck, he’s so skilled with moving his hand in perfect circles until your damp cunt is making wet schlicking noises.

you nearly cum when he slips two fingers inside your inexperienced hole.

“feels normal.” he comments, not paying any mind to how you’re nearly coming undone on his hand.

“are you fucking— oh sh-shit… giving me a doctor’s visit right now?” you manage to pant out as you look down at the demon.

“just trying to figure out why you’re hairless.” he obliges you with an answer while casually pumping his fingers in and out, curling them to brush against a spot that makes you cry out.

“i-i shaved!” you answered him frantically, rolling your hips as you shamelessly grind against his hand. the incubis smirks at your clear desperation. he feeds on it.

“shaved?” he asks, stroking his fingers against that spot with more vigor until he’s recklessly pounding his fingers into you.

“yes- oh my—… i’m gonna cum… don’t stop. oh right there!”

“tell me more about this shaving thing. why would you do such a thing to your pretty cunt, hm?” he prompts as if he’s not relentlessly finger fucking your poor pussy.

you can’t give him an answer because you literally can’t think. this demon is making you see the gates of heaven with his fingers.

it’s not a minute later before you’re screaming out in pleasure, soaking his hand in your juices as you finish on his digits.

he leans his monstrous sized body over yours, still leisurely pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering cunt as he gives you an expectant gaze. he’s still waiting on his answer.

“it’s mostly for… for aesthetic purposes,” you manage to breathe out while your body is still vibrating from your orgasm. you’ve played around a time or two with your toy, but it had never felt this damn good.

“aesthetic purposes for who? you’re a pathetic virgin, are you not?” he asks with a low chuckle. “you humans are so perplexing. you’re lucky i find the rest of you aesthetically pleasing.”

you feel your face warm as you look down at your body. no one usually compliments your body. being a big girl means getting compliments about your smile or your hair — never your body because it’s never good enough.

“you do..?” you ask, unsure of if he truly meant his words.

his fingers slowly slide out of your warm channel, causing you to shudder from the emptiness.

“oh pet, i wouldn’t have answered your pitiful calls if i didn’t find you so tantalizing,” he slowly reaches his hand up, and he pinches your nipple, “i’ll have so much fun with you,��

then, he’s gone.

you startle awake in your bed, leaning up and looking around as you pant heavily. that all felt so real. sukuna felt so real.

peaking under the blankets, your eyes widen as you can immediately see that your orgasm was real. your bedding is completely soaked…

and you can’t wait to try and summon him later tonight again.

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied nsfw, implied noncon/dubcon, poly yanderes, sprained ankle, captive reader, apocolypse au, talk of fertility and pregnancy

♡ FEM reader

♡ P1: The Bunker

Your ankle feels better after a little over a week.

The one initially against you staying has been giving you medical check-ups every day—something about wasteland toxins and underlying, possible contagious sicknesses he’d like to keep a weathered eye out for. 

You hadn’t refused. After all, such precautions were only warranted.

When you first encountered them in the wasteland, they were both wearing hazmat suits and gas masks. And though you had already been put through the standard disinfection and the basic check—eyes, teeth, and tongue—before they’d even let you in, you can’t blame them for taking extra measures—no matter how meticulous the check-ups have been since, comprising of endless spit, blood, and urine samples.

Somehow, you actually appreciated the thoroughness. It was just one more thing that reminded you of the past. The way he sat there, behind the desk like a doctor, and you opposite, like a patient, waiting for your results.

You’d gotten more or less used to it now, so it didn’t feel as awkward anymore. And, if you were to say so yourself, you think he’s even warmed up to you a little bit too.

“You’re all clear. No detectable toxins,” he states after a moment, mulling over the data, more or less the same outcome he’d come to for the last four or so days. He scribbled a few things into the file he’d been conducting, a focused furrow between his brows as he worked. You felt inclined to inquire about what exactly he’d been jotting down all these days of running tests but then decided against it—explaining things to you would probably only vex him. He was a man of as few words as possible, after all.

He sighs, then informs, “We can stop checking every day now.”

“Really?” you light up—feeling excited for some reason. Suppose you took it as a sign of improvement even without knowing entirely what any of it actually meant. In any case, lesser checks must be good, right?

“Yeah. You’re way healthier, thanks to all our produce and not consuming any of that wasteland trash.” He pulled a grimace before his face settled back into that constant look of dour solemnity. “Blood pressure, heart rate, vitals—everything looks good.”

It almost seems like such a silly thing to even bother caring about. Only a few weeks ago, you hadn’t cared for any such thing as health as long as it meant you weren’t starving or freezing—and here you are, celebrating such a privileged thing as blood pressure.

You sniffle, can’t help yourself, balled fists quivering in your lap as a few tears start to drop, “Thank you—truly. I’d have died if it weren’t for the two of you.”

He must think you’re ridiculous, too, crying over something so small. You wipe your eyes, only to notice him holding out a tissue for you. You can only laugh at yourself while accepting it.

“You’ll help me in the greenhouse today since your ankle is all better,” he states while getting up.

You spring to your feet, too. This would be the first time you’d been asked to help out. “What about—”

“He’s busy doing inventory,” he answers before you get the question out. “We’ll have to change a few things since you’re staying.”

This stills you, breath caught in your throat. You look at him wide-eyed, scared you’d heard him wrong. Voice weak as if scared to ask, “I’m staying?”

“Tch—” It’s his turn to chuckle, though he does so much differently from you—mockingly, a way he often does at both your and the other's expense. Though, you’d taken to find it rather endearing. He gives you a look—it’s very almost soft. “You didn’t think we’d waste our resources on something we planned on chucking back out again, did you?”

A tug pulls your wobbly lips back into a smile. “I guess that would be silly...” you sniffle again. “Still, thank you.”

This time, as you say it, you rush to hug him—tightly, with both your arms wrapped around his tough midsection and your head tucked against his broad chest.

It’s him who falls still now—stunted by the action and left both speechless and frozen in place. His arms hover mid-air, unsure of where to rest, before slowly lowering to settle atop your narrow shoulders—so much smaller in comparison. It’s crazy to think you’d endured out in the wasteland for so long.

He’s sure you’ve done things in order to stay alive you’re not at all proud of. Still, your survival is no less than a miracle.

He clears his throat. “Let’s hurry up,” He dismisses, then proceeds to nudge you off as if the hug was unwanted, but even you can spot the blush dusting his cheeks as he looks away with another grumble, “We’re making dinner before he’s done.”

The smile on your face is a sight for sore eyes, he thinks. You didn’t smile like that a week ago.

“Yes, sir.” You salute, following him in stride.

You’d said it innocently enough, but by God, if only you knew how it takes everything in him not to bend you over the medical desk right then and tell you all about how you’re in the perfect window for conceiving. 

He manages to steal himself. 

After dinner, he promised himself soothingly, calming the hunger in his gut—after dinner, they’d decided, tonight would be the night they’d finally make use of you the real way they’d intended—have you earn your keep.

When you’re done tilling the gardens, about a couple hours later, the two of you move on to the kitchen. You’d learn that the brash one was in charge of making most meals, as the other one was more than hopeless in the kitchen. It seemed you were replacing him as the helper, given simple tasks such as cutting, measuring, and fetching things.

It felt nice to be doing something again, especially something so trivial. Housework and domestic chores were something one could only reminisce about, and yet here you were, doing just that—cutting carrots as if the outside world wasn’t a badland of people killing each other for a can of expired dog food.

You really were so lucky you could hardly believe it. The tears start bubbling again.

“If you’re finished cutting, go to the cupboard over there,” he jolts you out of your thoughts. Not looking away from stirring the pot, he points with his other hand toward the far side of the kitchen.

You pad over and open it to find two dozen or more bottles of wine, all neatly shelved.

“Pick one out,” he calls out.

You blink, looking between the wine and him. “You mean—”

“Anyone of ‘em is fine,” he says. “Feel free to read if you’re looking for something special, though. It’s you were celebrating, after all.”

This time, you can’t stop the tears as they trickle down your face one after the other, soaking your cheeks.

Hearing you sniffle makes him sigh with rust. Scolding you with military toughness, “Quit cryin’ already—it’s getting old.”

You wipe your eyes and stiffen your lip. “Yes, sir.”

Turning your head back to the shelf, you can hardly believe the sight. It had been all moonshine and slop out in the wasteland. Dangerous stuff you were better staying well away from.

You can’t believe you’re going to drink actual wine again—your mouth waters just at the thought as you pick the first bottle you set your eyes on. But then you stop yourself—a guilty knot in your stomach twisting.

“Is it really okay?” you ask. “Shouldn’t we save it?”

“Tch—” he scoffs disapprovingly again. “You gotta stop doin’ that.”

You’re left looking at him even though he keeps his back turned, still busy stirring the pot. He lifts a spoon for tasting, then adds more spice to his liking before continuing as though he could tell you were confused just from the silence.

“You’re not in the wasteland anymore—” he states. “You can afford to live a little now.”

A concept like that had yet to have reached you. 

Suppose you were still settling in. 

“Besides, there are more in the cellar,” he reveals. “Even if we drank a bottle every day, it would take years for us to finish. So don’t worry your pretty head ‘bout it, a’ight?”

Your grip around the bottle tightens—trying to toughen up to keep the tears at bay. But today was an emotional day, and it seemed there was no end to the blessings you were given. It was all so overwhelming, your heart swelled with happiness—a feeling you hadn’t felt in such an awfully long time.

“Something smells good!” comes a call.

It seems he’s returned from doing inventory.

“Oh no, why are you crying?” He instantly rushes over to you, holding your face to inspect the damage, then snaps his head to the other, who’s still busying himself with perfecting dinner. “Are you being too harsh on her?” he accuses. “You know, not everyone can live up to your cooking expectations—”

“Tch—I haven’t done shit,” he denies. “She’s just emotional ‘cause I told her we’re lettin’ her stay.”

“What!? You told her without me?” he cries then. “We were supposed to surprise her together.” His pout is instantly replaced with a blank look of surprise as you wrap your arms around him like you’d done with the other earlier—hugging him tightly.

“Thank you,” you repeat to him as well.

You still couldn’t believe how nice they had been to you. 

After dinner is eaten, the three of you end up sitting there, chatting—about the past, most of all, how things used to be—how people would live in little houses with next-door neighbors they’d invite over for game night—little families with kids and backyards and pet dogs—college, marriage, careers.

You helped the stoic one clear the dishes while the chipper of the two opened another bottle of wine. You can hardly believe it when they bring out the record player and slide a vinyl on.

You end up crying again as the music plays. You even dance. Laughter fills the bunker while you get completely swept away with the feeling of utter bliss. And as the wine finishes and the conversation turns sloppy, the hands twirling your body to the music get a little touchier, a little greedier, until you’re suddenly kissed.

Between the two of them, the air becomes hot—steamy as you share breathes. 

Busy hands, large and strong and callused from labor, work on your button-up shirt. It’s gone before you know it, then the hands move on to your pants.

Honestly, after all the emotions joined by the wine and dance and being spun between the two, you can’t say you’re completely without lust, but at the same time, you’re just a bit confused. 

Despite not having seen them kiss in front of you, you’re certain they both go to bed in the same room every night—so all this time, you’d been under the impression that they were involved with each other and not interested in you that way. 

Not that it matters much what you thought, you think, you’re not against what’s happening so much as you’re a little hesitant about how it’s about to happen. It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone—willingly, that is—you’ve sort of forgotten how to enjoy it. 

If it were just one, you’d maybe find it a bit less overwhelming, but given there were two, you quickly found yourself feeling somewhat claustrophobic.

“Wait—” you stutter. Blocking the advance with your own hands, looking up into drunken and heated eyes and the soft look of arousal painted on the face before you. 

“Don’t worry,” he comforts with that kind smile. “You’re the most valuable thing we have—we’re gonna be gentle.”

You almost bite, almost give in, almost let it soothe you. But even in the drunk haze, the choice of phrasing finds you a little odd. And you’re unable to disregard that feeling that’s been nagging at the very back of your head ever since you stepped foot in the place. 

Something’s not right.

“Valuable?” Sure, you could choose to understand it as them saying they care for you, but somehow, it just doesn’t feel as if that’s all. “What does that mean?”

“You know…” he utters softly—his kind smile curling into something different. His eyes fall downward as he licks his lips before finishing, “This.” 

He’s laid a hand atop your belly where his gaze is set—his palm flat and firm as he rubs tentative circles into the softness.

It takes you a moment before you shudder. “You…” 

You needed to be rational about this. Some part of you always knew there was something going on, didn’t it? Why else would you be here? Why else would they let you stay? The cameras in the bedroom, in the showers, all those medical checkups—you’ve known there was something. And still, you hadn’t left. You hadn’t even so much as humored the thought even once.

There is no life for you out there. You don’t just want to stay—you have to—you need to.

And is it really so bad? Hadn't they been nice? Haven’t they been more than generous? Don’t you owe them so much more than what they’re asking in return?

But what are they asking? It’s not just intimacy. It’s something else—something premeditated.

“You want to use me to…” The realization makes you shudder. “To make you a child…”

Like an incubator.

They don’t deny it.

You want to back up—create space—room to breathe, but the other is just behind you with his big chest pressed stiffly against your back, keeping you close, trapped before the one in front.

“It’s true…” he confesses at your ear. “That is all we wanted from you in the beginning.” 

It sends a chill down your spine.

“It was almost too good to be true when we found you,” he continued while playing with your waist in big hands. “How a perfect candidate fell right into our lap mere days after we decided to go lookin’ for one.”

You suck in a hitched breath as the well of tears breaches, dribbling down your cheeks at the clinical word—candidate.

“But you’re more than that now,” the other reassures, bowing and fishing for your eyes as you’d taken to look down—too horrified to look him back in his. 

“We figured you’d be a savage, havin’ lived out there for so long,” the one behind says. He’d been the most skeptical at first, but he’d come to learn it was rather the opposite—your time out there hadn’t toughened your skin or hardened your heart but only made you timid and soft.

“In all honesty, we weren’t sure we were gonna keep you after the pregnancy…” the one in front whispers upon your lips. “But that’s all in the past now.”

He lifts your chin, taking in the all-too-soft look of despair on your face. It’s a strange thing to say he’d missed. It nearly makes him feel guilty for the hard-on in his cargo pants. But then again, tears are the allure of the gentler sex. It’s only natural for a man to enjoy the sight.

“We want you to stay.” He strokes your cheek, catching the tears on his thumb. “After all, it would be best for the baby to have a female presence—especially one as soft as yours.”

“And, well…” You flinch at the stubble being dragged upon your shoulder and neck, a kiss placed in the nook there along with his words, “We’ve grown to like having you around.”

His hands had fallen from your waist down to rub your hips, swaying you back against his crotch—and the bulge there, that now felt a little more like a gun being poked against your back. 

“It’s been a long while since we’ve had the company of a woman,” he continues while pressing himself against you. “It was unfamiliar at first, but… it’s nice.”

Something urgent takes over your body then—even though it’s beyond stupid. There’s no plan, no further thought than run—despite having no solid clue as to where. And yet, it ends up not mattering in the slightest. You don’t make it far.

You scream as their hands snag you. The grumpier one locks your arms, the chipper one grabs your legs—and they both lift and carry you back—laying you down on the little round table you’d had dinner on.

You struggle, but your wrists are pinned down to the metal with a strength you can’t hope to match.

“Don’t be like that.” He clicks his tongue dismissively like he so often does when you say or do something stupid. “There’s nowhere to go.”

“No—” you cry. “Please—don’t.” Shaking your head while squeezing your thighs shut. 

Never mind having sex, you could endure that much—but having a baby in this mess? They’re the ones who lost their minds down here. 

“I can’t—”

“Of course, you can,” the other insists, prying your thighs apart to make space for himself between them, already with his hands returning to undo the button of your pants, zipping down the fly and tugging them off.

“No—”

He’s back to console you just as quickly, “Shh-sh, don’t cry,” he soothes, cupping your face in both palms. He gives you that kind smile again, but it no longer serves as any source of comfort—now just a mouth full of teeth. “We’ll be gentle.”

♡ BNHA – KiriBaku, BakuDeku, ShinKami, DabiHawks, EndHawks, ErasurMic ♡ JJK – SatoSugu, ItaFushi, SukuIta ♡ HQ – Miya twins, KageHina, BokuAka ♡ CSM – AkiDen, YoshiDen ♡ BLLK – NagiReo

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[9:43 pm]

(cw: f!reader, Mark is drunk)

"Fuck yeah! Keg stand champion!" You hear someone yell as you make your way into the crowded living room of the NXT frat house.

You hadn't planned on being here tonight. You had some assignments you wanted to get a jump on, you hadn't been in the best mood all day, and you didn't feel like spending your night around a bunch of drunken, bumbling idiots.

So how did you end up here? Your drunk, bumbling boyfriend fratboy!Mark. Well, not him directly. He'd been a little whiny when you told him you weren't going to come to the party tonight, but he understood your reasoning and didn't push. You'd actually gotten a call from Johnny about 20 minutes ago asking you to come help with Mark.

Mark was a lightweight, like a featherweight even. If he even smelled alcohol, he got tipsy. For the most part, during parties, you put yourself in charge of making sure Mark didn't get too drunk. When he got too drunk he got messy. Without you being there, there was no one to be in charge. You should have guessed you'd be getting this call at some point in the night, but not less than an hour after the party began.

You elbow past some drunk party goers and make your way upstairs toward one of the bathrooms that's always off limits during parties. You knock, hearing a muffled, "occupied! Use a bathroom downstairs!"

"Johnny," you reply, "it's me."

You hear a retch and cringe, listening as Johnny pulls the door open. He let's out a sigh of relief, "I'm sorry, he just wouldn't stop crying because he missed you. I don't know how you deal with this. He's fine with you, right?"

"Of course he is. Thanks for calling, enjoy your party," you nod with a smile.

Johnny leaves you and Mark alone in the bathroom and you take to helping Mark out. You rub his back and give him the water bottle Johnny had left on the counter for him. Mark is groaning the whole time, eyes shut as he curls in on himself. After about 15 minutes you know that he's done.

He's slumped against the toilet bowl when you pat his cheek, "come on, babe. Let's get you back to bed."

He doesn't even open his eyes as he whines, "not goin' to my room wi' you."

"We need to get you to bed, babe, come on," you prod.

His eyes snap open as he lifts his head, "Stop callin' me babe. Look, I have a girlfriend alright. She won't be happy if I bring another girl to my room."

"Mark, I am your girlfriend," you explain.

"No, you're not," Mark shakes his head like a child, "my girlfriend didn't wanna come out tonight, and she said— she said she's not comin' tonight." He's looking up at you with tears in his eyes, "I really miss 'er."

You crouch down beside him, cupping his cheek as you coo, "baby, I'm here. It's me."

"No, you're not you!" He squints at you, rubbing his eyes and grumbling about needing his glasses, "if you're my girlfriend, tell me something only my girlfriend would know."

You stare at Mark blankly, as his girlfriend since senior year of high school, there's a lot of things only you would know. You shrug and answer anyway, "when we lost our virginities to each other you cried."

"My mom knows that too, pick something else!"

"Mark, why would you tell your mom about that?" You ask incredulously.

"She loves me!" He cries, "just like my girlfriend! I miss my girlfriend!"

"Oh my— Mark Lee. It's me, I'm your girlfriend. You text me every time you need to wash your sheets because you forget how much detergent you need, you like it when I kiss below your ear, you keep snacks under your bed for midnight snacks, and you have a crush on the librarian on the third floor for some reason," you list off.

"Oh, my snuggle muffin! It is you! I missed you!" Mark exclaims as he throws himself into your lap, embracing you tightly.

You laugh, brushing your fingers through his damp hair, "I told you. Can we get you to bed now?"

"You're staying right?"

"Yes, Mark."

[shikaizer]

STILL YOURS p.b x reader

summary : Paige is your wife for 4 years, until a huge fight occured between the two of you leading for a messy divorce. But your child needed paige, causing a situation that will pull the both of you back together.

warning : unresolved feelings, breakdown, cussing, bruise.

a/n : might make a part 2 leading to smut what do you guys think?

You groaned when the phone rang again, it was paige's number. paige badly wanted to borrow your 4 year old daughter, celes, she was the child both of you adopted because you have mentioned to her that you always wanted to have a child. so the two of you decided it was time for the both of you to be a mother, after taking care of all papers and legal rights both of you have embraced the child and loved her deeply.

Until, the both of you gotten a divorce, paige have packed all her things with celes crying, your heart sank that she had to witness all of this. But at this time paige had no choice but to leave.

till this day, celes is always looking for her other mommy but you aren't ready too see her ever again.

ignoring the fact that paige have been texting and calling you to let her meet her child and spend time with her beloving daughter, which you firmly declined and restricted her for even trying to think your going to accept.

paige|I want my child.

paige| i swear if you dont let me see her your going to see me in the fucking court

paige| dont be a dick and let me spend some time with her

you| lol suck my dick

paige| are you fucking serious?

paige| missed call ■

paige| answer the fucking call right now.

you let out a sigh answering the call and you leaned your back to the couch while caressing celes hair as she was sleeping on your lap.

"stop being difficult, im serious im going to call my lawyer." you scoffed hearing her voice to the other side. "look you should have thought about that when you left the both of us." you muttured back as if your in the right "you fucking threatened to kill me once i dont leave" she shouted and you laughed. "be greatful that im fucking sending her pictures to you." you spat.

"let me see our child." she stated opening her video looking over at the camera her blue eyes shining. "geeez" you breath out and opened the camera flipping them to show little celes sleeping on your lap, and obviously your thighs showing, you are wearing and extremely small cycling, you swear you heard paige cursed under hear breath but you let it pass.

"please let me borrow her im literally begging now." she muttured and you hesitated for a second and spoke up. "fuck okay god, i'll think about it." you groaned hanging up the phone.

. . .

with celes constant whining and crying you cant help but quiver your lips trying to calm her down. it was all so heavy for you.

"please my love stop crying.." you caressed celes back as she was having another tantrum. she always do this whenever and you dont understand why.

"i want mommy!!!" at this point, tears started to fall on your eyes as you sobbed, you are very stressed and its true that taking care a child by yourself is very hard, you always told paige you can handle her by yourself proving to her that both of you are doing good. while shes busy with her games as she was the top wbb player at this moment, truth be told, your starting to miss paige. whenever celes is having her tantrum she is there to calm her down, and would comfort you after, she made things easier actually.

you sighed and continued rubbing celes back as she starts to relax and drift off to a sleepy state. you made your way to her bed laying her down and tucking her comfortably. you sat on the edge of her bed looking around at her room, the one you and paige designed together chaotically.

you took out your phone and opened paige's contact number, you hesitated to move your fingers and looked up squeezing your eyes shut before turning your attention back to your phone typing 'im not letting you borrow our child, but you can come here tommorow and spend some few days.' you whined and plopped your body down the bed debating if you should send it or not, you decided not to and just let your phone sit beside you drifting off to sleep.

sensing the morning light behind your eyelids, you groan smiling feeling the comfort, you put your arm around celes to realize shes not in her bed, you quickly sit up rubbing your eyes thats when you hear celes laughing and talking, you felt terrified because it was only the two of you. you looked like a dumbass sitting down on the bed lots of thoughs gathering your mind.

you finally pushed yourself up walking outside, your jaw dropped seeing paige sitting on the couch while lifting celes up, both of them were playing, you stomped up to them and see paige's confused expression as she was met with a very not welcome expression.

celes looked over to you with a big smile plastered on her face. "yay mommy!" she exclaimed and signalled you to hug her, you didn't wanna ruin this moment for her since it has been long since she saw both her mommy together. you hugged celes tightly and you looked over at paige mouthing her 'what the hell are you doing here?' she raised her eyebrows and whispered 'are you high? you told me to come here.' you looked at her doubtful and celes pulled away.

"mommy hug!" she pointed at paige and you, your jaw dropped wanting to jump out of a window. paige took your hand and pulled you to her hugging you thightly while you fell to her lap. causing celes to jump and exclaimed as she ran to her room excitedly probably to get some toys.

you pushed yourself away from her touch and bit your lip. "you look like shit" paige looked up at you and you rolled your eyes smiling "thanks" you looked over at the sight of her bag celes walking out of the bedroom again holding a toy.

"whats with that big ass bag?" you raised your eyebrows and she chuckled "staying her for a week. i have no games till next month" as your about to speak celes spoke up. "a week! yay!" she exclaimed hugging paige. "we will go travel mommy please!!" celes pleaded and paige nodded. "yes baby we will."

You are giving paige the most scariest stare but she just smirked proud at you obviously winning over celes.

you looked over the time and it was almost lunch, you cursed yourself and rushed to the island kitchen. "hey um did you feed celes breakfast!?" you raised your voice for her to hear.

you heard no reply and scoffed putting out some ingridients that you will be preparing to cook. opening the faucet paige walked over to you, you pressed your weight on the counter looking over at her. "we need to talk." paige uttured and you frowned "about what?" you tilt your head and she sighed "are you always sleeping in? if i haven't gotten here celes would be now starving." she states walking closer to you. "n-no this was the first time i slept in." you state tripping on your own words "and she always wakes me up you know that." you added.

"no? when i came here she was sitting down at the couch by her self." your jaw dropped heart sinking "what if she did something in here that will be the cause of an accident?" she continued furious in her tone.

"your being iresponsible, you should give me the child and my mom will take care of her." you scowled shaking your head.

"not fucking happening." you turned your head back and chopped up some vegetables that celes loves.

"your crazy,i know you cant take care or her alone." she walked closer and you pushed her "leave me alone, your lucky im letting you stay here."

paige clicked her tounge taking your hand, stopping you from cooking. "im gonna fucking stab you i swear" you threatened and she rolled her eyes, and celes walked in looking at the two of you.

"mommy are you fighting?" you quickly shake your head smiling at her "nooo baby me and mommy are just talking" she squeled nodding taking paige's hand dragging her to the living room.

you sighed stressing out as you continued to do your cooking, throughout the lunch, it was akward for the both of you stealing glances at each other while your daughter was the only source of the noise.

paige decided to bring celes out a themepark, you dressed celes up, it was a win for you since you get to have the day for yourself. as they are about to leave celes was pouting. "why babygirl?" paige leaned down to her level as i stare at her.

"you need to kiss mommy" our jaw dropped and paige let out a smirk "okay then..." she leaned down to kiss you in the cheeks and celes shaked her head "in the lips!" celes whined and paige smiled covering her eyes with her hand, when paige was about to kiss you, your quickly put out your middle finger avoiding her and she rolled her eyes amused.

"there done. lets go?" celes jumped and nodded holding her mothers hand and going out.

having all the time by yourself, you made yourself comfy, cleaning the whole house and showering afterwards, you put paige's bag inside your bedroom the both of you used to share and bought extra blanket for her to use, your letting her sleep in the bed because it would be really cruel if you made her sleep on the couch assuming she will be staying for a week, you didn't dare get mad because celes seemed very happy about it.

finishing everything, you get all comfy putting on your favorite show in the tv. but drifting off to sleep.

your awoken by paige opening the door and gently closing it, lifting yourself to look at them, seeing celes knocked out sleeping as she was carried "aww our baby had too much fun." you cooed walking to them taking her away from paige's arms lifting her, walking to her room.

as you tucked celes in, you made your way to the living room. paige was plopped down on the couch manspreading staring at the tv. you sat down beside her not really close and the both of you made eye contact. she seemed tired and you awed.

"she was so energetic" paige laughed throwing her head back "she always been." you chuckled resting your body on the couch.

"hey whats this?" paige pointed at your arm, a purple bruise. "probably when i was doing chores." you shrugged and paige looked at you with a hint of worried.

"i knew it you cant take care of yourself alone." she spat and you rolled your eyes. "oh please. im doing just fine." deep inside your not, you fiddled with your fingers and she bring your chin up to look at her.

"i missed you." your eyes widen at the sudden confession. you never expected this and it was making you dazed.

"you missed me...?" you asked unsure and she nodded shifting closer to you warmth tangling. "yes, so damn much" you took a heavy breath and your face softened. your in shock and in confusion as you kept quiet.

"please say something." she muttured looking at you the lingering sensation in the air have you choked.

"mm..sorry.. i miss you too.." you confessed and smiled. "when you left, i tried to stay strong for celes. but i always fail." you started sobbing looking down and paige kissed your forehead.

"but...fuck.. you know? i just needed you as always.." you sighed and buried your face on her neck.

"i know love i know..." she whispered calming you down.

she kissed your jaw ane spoke up.

"i need you...." .

[lexiputellas]

Pillow Talk

It’s your first day back at work.

You stretched your maternity leave as far as humanly possible, used every single vacation day, and worked from home until you ran out of excuses—but today, there was no escaping it. You had to go back. At least your office has a daycare. If it didn’t, you’re pretty sure you would’ve quit on the spot.

Now, finally home, you don’t think you’ve ever been happier to see Alexia. Not only did she get back before you, but she also brought dinner. You could’ve kissed her right then and there—actually, you did. You love her, truly, but if she had waited for you to cook—or, God forbid, asked you to help—you might have had a breakdown.

Dinner was great, dishes were ignored, Alice fell asleep peacefully, and now you’re both getting ready for bed. It’s your favorite part of the night—when everything slows down, and you can just be. Alexia already talked about her day, and now it’s your turn. Normally, this would be when you two discuss important things, but Nicole unloaded so much gossip at work today that you have to let it out before your brain explodes.

You’re fluffing the pillows as you talk, and Alexia, already lying on her side under the covers, is nodding along like a very patient woman.

“Nicole told me Amanda from Compliance is literally faking a relationship online.”

Alexia blinks, lifting her head slightly. “How?”

“I don’t know yet! I’m getting more details tomorrow,” you say, putting in your bruxism mouth guard. “I don’t even get why she’d lie, she doesn’t need to.”

Alexia hums, settling back in.

That’s encouragement. You keep going.

"And you won’t believe this—the sitter at daycare said Alice was the easiest baby to deal with. She barely even cried! Which, like, I knew our baby was perfect, but now it’s confirmed by an expert."

Alexia hums again. This time, it sounds more like sleepy agreement than actual interest, but you’re on a roll now.

“And remember that guy from the party last year? The one who told you he was a Real Madrid fan?”

Alexia makes a vague noise of acknowledgment.

“Not that he was special or anything,” you continue, “but he invited Nicole out.”

That gets a reaction. Alexia forces one eye open. “That guy?”

“That guy.”

“She said yes?”

“She said yes. And if she’d asked me first, I would’ve told her absolutely not.”

Alexia exhales, long and slow, adjusting the blanket. “Baby, I love you so much, and I want to hear all of this… tomorrow. We have to wake up early.”

Which you think is fair. She was the one running around after a ball, going to the gym, lifting weights—you mostly just fought with spreadsheets, tried not to cry when Alice waved goodbye way too enthusiastically at daycare, and dodged an email from HR that felt suspiciously passive-aggressive.

“I know,” you say, climbing under the covers. “I love you too. But can I just finish really quick? I swear, I’m almost done.”

She hums again. That’s permission.

“So, turns out the guy? He was dating someone else the whole time. Poor Nicole, bless her heart, but maybe a little stalking would’ve helped her.”

Silence.

You glance over. Alexia’s eyes are closed, her face relaxed, her breathing slow and even.

“Oh,” you whisper. “You’re already asleep.”

You sigh, amused, and watch her for a moment. The way her eyelashes rest against her cheeks, the way her hair falls across the pillow, the faintest hint of a smile still lingering on her lips—it makes your chest ache in the best way.

She looks warm, soft, safe. Like home.

Carefully, you scoot closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder.

“Good night, baby,” you murmur, even though she’s already lost in dreams.

Then, finally, you close your eyes.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Eldritch Ex-Husband ///////

Your now ex-husband is incredibly surprised when the authorities are dispatched to your new house when he enters. Thinking nothing of it he broke the knob of your new home, thinking after all that time talking with the judge over some foreign topic you’d both be settling into the new place. Turns out this ‘divorce’-thing and ‘restraining order’-stuff meant something after all. That he couldn’t be with you and the baby.

“Wait, the dee - force means I don’t get to come home? What–?”

“Sir, if you give me trouble it’ll only hurt your chances of seeing your kid more.”

“Wait I can’t see him? (Y/n)! (Y/n)-honey, please!”

“Sir, please put your hands behind your back.”

The only reason he doesn’t suck their brains out through their noses+ fight more is because he’s so devastated as he thinks about how in the dark about cruel-human-practices. Only now does it register that when you were oh-so cutely crying about leaving, you weren’t talking about a late night run to the store to satisfy your cravings. That the word he had dismissed as something you wanted to buy was actually an action. An action that meant he’d be deprived of the most important person in his life.

“Hello?”

“......I did not understand before….but I understand now.”

“Kilton? You know a restraining order extends to calls, right?”

“IM nOt LetTInG yOu go—”

Click.

“Creep.”

As he reluctantly uses the resources proposed to him, to argue for custody he has time to think about when you first mentioned the word. But the more he replays those heavenly moments with you he realizes how often your brow was scrunched and a vein was popping from that kissable forehead. It’s then that your ex-husband begins to realize just how little he was actually listening to you. Ashamed, he’s realized that while he finds all your actions absolutely irresistible it didn’t mean you were happy. And he really had no one to blame but himself.

“Hello this is Kilton (L/n) if you have a message leave it at the tone….beep.”

“Hey I hope I got the right number but I need your help with the baby….there’s stuff going on that I have no idea how to deal with. I won’t call the police or tell anyone..I just need….some help. And you're the only one who can give it to me.”

“OF COURSE i’LL BE RIGht oVER!”

“Wait you never set up your voicemai—”

When you left your husband, you were tired of being so confused all the time. Your husband, your best friend was keeping you in the dark for a long time now. Starting from the occasionally odd behavior you’d witness him do, that he’d brush off as if it were nothing. Like the doors in the house that have begun to open to alternate dimensions (that’s what you believe but your husband will not explain in any way) ignoring your concerns and calling you being ‘silly.’ It was annoying but you hadn’t died yet so it wasn’t that bad…until you got pregnant.

“How can this be?”

“Yippee I told you, that one took!”

“No, I literally can’t.”

“Of course, you can babe, you already are look at your little bump.”

“No like I literally can’t this is unbelievable.”

Whether you physically can and were vigilant in prevention or you physically should not be able to conceive matters not. You are pregnant. Or you were. And while dealing with the intense hormones and birthing pains and gravity-defying phenomena happening in your home, your ex-husband would explain nothing. Doing nothing but smile wistfully at you while you demanded to know why the fridge was inching closer every time you turned the corner. Any sane person could only handle so much of his pretend assurances that you were just losing your mind. 

But hindsight 20/20 you should’ve known you couldn’t get rid of your eldritch ex-husband with your eldritch baby. 

“Hey you left the door unlocked, so I let myself in. Babe, you can’t be doing that it’s really unsa–the furniture doesn’t look at all like it did before.”

“Of course it doesn’t! Because your son has decided to rearrange it with his humming!” 

“That’s not a hum, Love. He’s singing a hymn of Utter Chaos–”

“I DON’T CARE WHAT IT IS MAKE HIM STOP.”

As you suspected the root of all the inexplicable happenings in your life were because of your ex-husband and by extension the little bundle that has been doing all sorts of things a normal baby shouldn’t. Like humming the ‘utter chaos song’ or making supplies float over to you while changing him or how at the end of his bath the water turns red and evaporates in an echo of screams. It’s just a little alarming.

“Where is the baby?”

“In that other dimension.”

“Excuse me?”

“Isn’t that something familiar to you? Every now and then he just goes into this other dimension that let’s his laugh morph the walls a little.”

“Oh my. That’s new for me too.”

Surprisingly despite your husband’s now-confirmed-eldritch-heritage he’s not an exact expert on everything his son does. Apparently no one from his world/dimension/atternate plane of existence does everything your son does and is blissfully writing off as something from your side of the family. He’ll shrug and use the opportunity to listen to you list the observations you’ve made about your darling offspring and maybe compliment you on your vigilance as a new unfortunately single parent. Don’t worry it won’t be that way for long!+

“So the blood water thing. It happens whenever he interacts with water.”

“Oh I know that one it’s an old habit of mine, for storing water for later!”

“What about the metal-eating?”

“Metal eating? With no teeth? Beats me must have gotten a taste from all those utensils you’re so fond of. By the way parenthood looks good on you have I told you that?”

As he becomes more of a constant presence in your home, there's a startling change in your baby boy’s behavior. It doesn’t stop but it’s a lot less destructive. Finally, you could have the delivery crew enter the yard without them being swallowed by the portal to your son’s crib. Finally, you can afford to have a couple-hour meet and greet with your family without anyone inexplicably sprouting horns. So reluctantly you let him back into your life with very specific conditions.

“You can’t stay the night.”

“Aww but aren’t you worried about me going home in the dark?”

“I know you’re not just some helpless human, so no. Second rule no kissing or lovey dovey things with me.”

“Got it. So vague I can work with that.”

“And finally–”

“EEEKK! WHAT DID HE DO TO MY BABY!?”

“Oh guess someone’s up from their nap.”

“I’ll distract her with a ring to her doorbell, you change back the dog.”

“As always, please try to turn down her invites for dinner this time. I don’t think I can spare her if she upsets him again.”

“No promises!”

Kilton realizes that what he has with you doesn’t mean he’s equally let back into your life, especially since so many other couples ailed by this (dee)force co-parent more or less the same so he’s got his work cut out for him. He’ll have to finally get over his listening issue while worming his way back into your heart! And don’t worry he definitely will!

[kawhh]

Omg that temporary tattoo thing got me thinking about how in one tree hill when Hayley gets a 23 tattoo above her ass for Nate…

oh dark!quinn wouldn’t be able to think about anything else when he sees your reach up high for something and your shirt lifts up and he gets a peek of the 43 above your his ass.

He would ask you about it and when you wouldn’t admit it right away he would bend you over and he would fuck you from behind. You don’t get to finish because you lied but he cums over your back and swipes it across the 43 tattoo to further claim you, proper tattoo care be damned. Yeah that’s hot

My ask turn around time needs to be studied. There'll be a day when I catch up with them all and it doesn't take me a month lmao.

I gotta put One Tree Hill on my watch list now? I've always seen it talked about a lot but I've never actually seen any of it.

Warnings: Quinn losing his mind, nails sinking into skin, biting, blood mention, ripping clothes, rough fucking, cum play.

You'd done it as a cute little gesture. You adore him and you're oh so proud of him, it'd been the easiest tattoo choice of your life. You'd wanted it somewhere he'd be able to see on you, wanting it more for him than for you.

You hadn't fully considered the impact of it until it was etched into your skin, until the scratching had stopped. Flushing heavily in the car coming back from the studio. Embarrassed about how he'd react when he saw it, knowing it's permanent now.

Hadn't considered how he'd feel about the fact that you were a little undressed for the artist, laying there with their hands on your skin, touching above and around your ass.

Hadn't considered that it might make him more feral, you'd been high on the feeling of wanting to show him how proud of him you are.

You'd tucked your shirt into the back of your jeans as you walked into his apartment, needing more time to think of an excuse, a reason, before he saw it. He wouldn't be able to keep his hands off you for long.

It's a shame you'd immediately forgotten the plan, distracted by him asleep on the couch. Rushing around the kitchen to make him food ready for when he wakes up, worried about how exhausted he clearly was after practice. Guilty you weren't here for him when he got home.

Hadn't heard him stirring, hadn't heard him creep towards you, fixated on the little inch of your bare skin visible to his eyes as you reach up. The emotions battling for control in his eyes - the confusion, the savage need to claim you, to fuck you. The disbelief. His pupils fully dilated, his arms shaking.

You don't hear him kneeling behind you, needing to get a better look or he feels like he'll die. Your startled gasp as he reaches out to grab your hips, the way your cute little jump exposes even more of your skin.

The way his nails dig into your skin, his eyes wild, resting his forehead above the tattoo. Tensing up when you feel his hot breath against your skin, sending shocks up your spine.

"Sweetheart.. you gonna fucking explain?"

The way his nails dig in further when you don't answer, when you don't even offer an excuse. Just whimpers coming out of your mouth. Your gasp of pain when he bites around the tattoo, making a circle. A ring of bloody possession around his mark on you. You're even more his now. You can't go back from this. You've made this choice.

His veins burn with the need to be buried in your cunt. His nails no longer still - clawing into you, dragging them down your ass. Leaving a stinging trail that makes you hiss, softly crying out his name. Pleading for something. Needing something.

Your cries pushing him over the edge, rising to his feet, throwing you over his shoulder. He needs you now. Needs you bent over his fucking couch right now. Needs his cock in you. Needs to make a mess. Needs to stare at his mark on you when he rails you.

He's not gentle about throwing you on the couch, cradling your head from the harsh impact. He's not a savage after all.

He has no care for your clothes, viewing them as a barrier to what he needs and wants. Doesn't care to gently take them off you, doesn't care if he knows they're your favourite. These fucking jeans. They might make your ass look like a buffet but they're keeping him from your cute little cunt and it's illegal.

He doesn't need them fully off, just down enough. Yanking them down your thighs, restraining your legs with them around your knees. He has room. He'll make it work. Warming you up, pushing his aching head against the wet spot on your underwear, pushing the material into you, watching as you grip the couch and tremble. Lazy little thrusts, pushing it into you further, eyes narrowing on the tattoo.

Swiping his tongue across his bottom lip as he rips your underwear, laughing as you squeak in protest at the slight burn.

Doesn't hesitate when he has a clear shot, sinking balls deep inside your cunt instantly, pushing his weight against you, forcing you to bend further over the couch, restraining you even further. Gripping your hip with one hand, resting his fingers against the tattoo, needing to physically feel it.

He's a machine fucking into you, slamming you further over the edge of the couch with every thrust, slamming you back down against him when you creep forward too far. Making you scream at the brutality.

Begging him to slow down, whining about all your adorable little choices. You're just making it worse. He wants you ruined. He wants you to make a mess, to be a mess.

Spanking your clit while he pulls out, teasing you, pretending that he's giving into your demands, before he's slamming back in even harder. Feeling your walls clench down on him, feeling your pussy sucking him back in. How it's desperate for him to be inside you, even if you're vocally protesting.

He's chanting, whispering to himself about how badly he needs to cum on every thrust, tossing his head back, losing himself in the feel of your cunt. You're his. You're marked. He can do this every day. Fuck, he can fuck you every day. He can stare at the mark and make you cum every single second of every single day.

Moaning as his speed picks up even further, no longer even focused on your reactions, just needing to cum. Needing to cum. He's gotta cum. Fuck, he's gotta cum. He's so close.

Forcing his head back up so he can watch the tattoo bounce on every thrust, feeling like it's taunting him, violently pulling you back and thrusting, giving it every single percentage of energy he has, shocks going down his spine, his thighs cramping with the strain.

He can't resist pulling out as he cums, drowning your back in his seed. Panting as it drips down your back, aided by gravity. How it covers the tattoo, his hips jerking like he's cum again, the sight making his brain break.

He's collapsing against your back fully, the hand on your hip spreading it over the tattoo, trying to rub it into your skin. To mark you further. Running his hands through the rest of the cum, reaching up to force it into your mouth.

He'll keep you both here for a while, too exhausted to lift off you.

[transmcytshowdown]

Joel Smallishbeans^16:

Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

“He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

“First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl).”

Oli OrionSound^16:

Empires SMP Season 2, Pirates SMP, New Life SMP, Afterlife SMP

Trans man, he/they

“That freak is transfem, trust [the submitter]. [Their] source is divine knowledge and [their] ownership of the transfemoliorionsound url.”

“HIS PRONOUNS ARE SHE/HER.”

“[The submitter has] successfully cracked at least three eggs with the power of transfem Oli TheOrionSound, if she loses [they] will CRY.”

“Look at this cubito and then tell [the submitter] he doesn't participate in every type of gender shenanigans and tomfoolery. His pronouns are hee/hee.”

[nicholasluvbot]

FLYING KISSㅤ𓈒ㅤ𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗁𝖺𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝖻𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 18-𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋-𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗒.

ㅤㅤ── 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝖼𝗂𝗋𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗆𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾.

𝒇 ! readerㅤ𖥔ㅤ500ㅤㅤ><ㅤ`ㅤ𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌ㅤ𓈒ㅤ──── cautions 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 ㅤㅤ🍀ㅤㅤ𝖠𝖱𝖢𝖧𝗂𝖵𝖤

woonhak always stretches an arm out on the back of your chair, absentmindedly playing with your hair or tracing circles on your shoulder while pretending not to care. if someone else tries to squeeze in between you, he automatically shifts his chair closer to yours—anything to be near you.

he swears he never gets jealous, but the moment another guy gets a little too close to you, his whole demeanor shifts. "oh, that guy?" he says, unimpressed. "he's like 5'7 on a good day." he tries to act indifferent, but he's noticeably more clingy for the rest of the day, standing closer than usual, his shoulder brushing against yours, making sure you laugh at all of his jokes instead.

if someone talks about asking you out in front of him, he lets out a short, sharp laugh before mumbling, "yeah, good luck with that." and when someone actually flirts with you in front of him, he plays it off with fake nonchalance—jaw tightening, but his voice light and teasing. "oh, so you're cheating on me now?" he tilts his head, wearing an exaggerated look of betrayal.

you shove at his arm playfully. "you are so unserious."

"dead serious," he quips, resting his chin on his hand as he watches you. "but hey, do what you want. just don't come crying to me when you realize no one treats you as well as i do."

he teases you relentlessly but goes completely still when you lean your head on his shoulder. he pretends not to care, staring ahead like it’s no big deal, but you can feel how stiff he gets at first. then, slowly, his body relaxes, and after a while, he even tilts his head to rest against yours.

in class, he flicks your forehead when he catches you zoning out or dozing off, playfully scolding you to pay attention—then immediately following it with a quiet, "you okay?" in a softer voice.

he "accidentally" wins a carnival game and tosses you the stuffed animal casually. "i don’t need it," he says, even though you both know he was trying hard to win. but later, when you’re not looking, he grins to himself, satisfied when he sees you still hugging it hours later.

he always finds an excuse to be at your house, lounging on your couch like it’s his second home. he acts like he's there for the snacks, but really, he just loves being around you, in your space.

he grumbles about how you always make him do things, like helping you carry your stuff or waiting for you after class, but the one time you don’t ask for his help, he frowns. "what, you didn’t need me?" and when you say you didn’t want to bother him, he scoffs, shoving his hands in his pockets. "idiot. it’s not a bother."

it’s so obvious—everyone sees it. he thinks he hides it well, but every so often, when you're laughing, focused, or just doing anything at all, he gets this soft look in his eyes. it only lasts a second before he snaps out of it, clearing his throat and teasing you about something random. but when jaehyun asks, "dude, do you like them or something?" woonhak just scoffs, looking anywhere but at you.

"who wouldn’t?"

‎ ‎     • 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 🗯 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 ───── 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 ˆᗜˆ

tags ( boynextdoor ) @coquettejunnie , @hanninova , @chaeneu , @aloe-7 , @en-dream , @rizzkisworld , @cosmicwintr , @mydearyeseo , @ladyaida , @fae-renjun , @slytherinshua , @jjennuine , @kstrucknet , @k-films , @sgz-net

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

You're welcome! I really loved that fic and I'm so excited to devour all of your Eomer fics to come 🤣

First of all I love the gif of Butcher and Ben. It fits this perfectly 😆!

Dear LORD you didn't have to do me like this from the onset with that opening scene of Butcher. 🥵

It was also entirely self indulgent 👀

Correct. 👆🏽 Why is it that rugged men in their 40s attract me more than men my own age. 🫠🫠

This is such a vibe, 24/7 😭 Why do no age appropriate guys look the way these men do? Why are all these men in their 40's out here serving breakfast, lunch, and dinner and all the age appropriate men barely serving snack time (LMAO)? Someone explain it to me!

lmfao Eomer, is that you? ("romantasy" ftw! 😏❤️‍🔥)

As Tradition Dictates was living in my mind rent free when I wrote that and I'm not sorry 🤣 Plus this reader lives very much in a fantasy world with Butcher on a pedestal and when I continue it (because I want to make this one a series lol) it's going to be more about her separating the fantasy version of Butcher she has in her head from reality. Ben might also help her with that along the way 😉

lol this is one of my favorite aspects of reading/writing in The Boys fandom - everyone's creativity on creating our own fictional supes that cause mayhem for the boys. 😆😆 (Not "a reenactment of the eighth plague" 💀💀💀)

Oh it's the best! I love making up superheroes (a lot of my OFC's were marvel based one million years ago 🤣) and finding random powers. Plus as @jollyhunter pointed out (and made me think more about), envisioning the scene where they realize exactly what the supe can do is hilarious! Because on one hand Ben isn't afraid of anything and Butcher doesn't really care, but the minute that someone turns into a swarm of locust... what are they gonna do? I know in my heart that the reader and Hughie were already in the car with the windows rolled up the second that supe started to multiply, while Butcher and Ben are trying to figure out if it's worth it. (it's not lol)

Can always trust you to give beautiful descriptions of flora and fauna. 🪴💚

Oh my word, THANK YOU SO MUCH💗! Seriously this compliment is making me cry😭. It's my favorite thing about writing, describing the setting and nature in the scene to try and make it a little more immersive. One of my favorite writers is Willa Cather and she inspires me so much with her writing 🥰

Sigh. I can deeply relate to that first part, as you know lol.

There is no judgement here bestie, I'm in the same boat lol.

Girl stop torturing me lmfao. (But actually don't stop though) "Big hands" indeed. 🥵 Ben saw straight through her though and I'm living for their dynamic! lol

LMAO 🤣 Plus I was overly gratuitous describing Butcher, I had to give Ben a little something-something 😉

And oh yeah! I love this dynamic, Ben with an inexperienced reader, who's awkward (entirely self-indulgent). I think the fake dating trope with Ben could be so crazy and also a little cringe lol

Oh how magnanimous of him. 🙄 Like yes, let's all jump (literally) on that opportunity to debase ourselves for his entertainment. ...But of course, there's also that whole ridiculously attractive factor that makes Ben difficult to resist, even though he's a complete asshole loll.

Isn't he being sooo selfless? It's sooo big of him to think about helping the reader like that. What a stand up guy. 😒

Oh yeah no. He's so attractive and such a jerk sometimes, but then you painstakingly peel back the layers and descover he's still an asshole, but just less of an asshole to you and a more lovable big grump. 🤣

OMFg. That last one is so real! 🤣🤣🤣 I feel for her for real. I wonder how Ben's actually going to help her self-confidence. 💗

That last one I cackled for two minutes after I wrote it down- it is so true. I think that particular situation has happened to everyone, tried to do something nice for someone they have a crush on, completely overthought it and then had to go hide in shame. 😭🤣 He's going to help her so much and I'm really excited with the sequence of events that I've planned out for the future series lol 🤗

Awww this melted me so much! She's not in love with him yet, but I think he's gonna bring it out of her on accident with stuff like this loll. Also big surprise on how he said she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do. 💚💚 I half-expected him to suggest exactly what she could do for him if she was so inclined. 😆

He's already so gentle with her and I can't 😭 I honestly don't know what to call their dynamic because it's not enemies to lovers? Maybe it's "acquaintances to lovers" 🤣 with forced proximity. It's going to be the little things that wins her heart I believe 💗

I was thinking about sex and Ben a little bit for this fic (I mean I do that for all my fics lol), because fake dating tropes always have tension/rules made to provoke the inevitable (aka the fake daters falling in love).

I think that because of the way the reader is (being more inexperienced) Ben is interacting with a woman who's not used to a man who comes on as strong as he does. Because yes Ben is big and brash, and a bit of an asshole (🤣), but I don't think that Ben is the kind of asshole that forces someone to have sex with him. I don't think that Ben would willingly rape somebody and that's why I put that line in, because I think going forward with this series, Ben is going to understand that she's different than the other women he's been involved with. And there are going to be moments that he finds her boundaries and he might push them a little, but he still will care to uphold them. (If that makes sense? I'm also sorry that I got rambly lol)

Oh my God, YESSS. She's in so deep already and I can only imagine where you'll take this next if you choose! I can say for sure that I'd love to see how this little scheme unfolds lol.

Aww thank you! I'm happy you liked this one! Yes, I have decided to make it into a series and I'm still plotting it out a little. Tbh I built in little details in this fic I think subconsciously knowing I was going to make it into a series lol 😅 Because the fake dating is going to get them into a even bigger problem in the future 😉 But thank you so much for all your lovely comments my wonderful friend! And thank you for inspiring me with your Eomer fic! I can't wait to see the others you're going to write for him!! 💕

Promise Not To Fall In Love With Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader and a little bit of Billy Butcher x f!reader

Prompt: "I find him very attractive." /"I'm standing right here"/ "I know."

Requested by: @angrydragon90

Tropes: Fake Dating, Pining.

Summary:  When you first joined Butcher's team the last thing you expected was to develop a crush on him, but after two years of pining, you get a proposition from the last person you'd expect to care.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just in case (I don't really think it is). Some cursing, Sexual innuendo, References to sex, Over glorification of a man's shirtless body (I'm not complaining) Reader is a little anxious/anxiety/socially awkward? Drug use/Drinking (Soldier Boy), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (He's a warning, we all know it and somehow still love him for it).

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: This is the third fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the incredible @angrydragon90 💗 Had to do something with a little bit of Valentine's Day spirit, but I'm going to be honest, this one turned into something that I didn't expect... let me know what y'all think. I also was thinking about @zepskies fic As Tradition Dictates for the more *ahem* gratuitous descriptions of Butcher 😉

Butcher’s muscles rippled over his bare chest and broad shoulders with every swing of the mighty axe down to the earth. Each strike of the axe against wood sent chips of bark flickering in the air around him like sparks. Sweat rolled down his sun kissed skin curving in the dips of his muscular torso, along the tensing muscles of his back, and through the dusting of hair on his torso, before disappearing into the waistband of the dark jeans hung low on his hips. 

Heat kisses your cheeks and darkens the skin the longer you watch him and you bite your lip hard to keep the appreciative sigh of the scene in front of you at bay. But it does little to stop your eyes which rove over the rugged man chopping wood. 

No man his age should look that good. 

Butcher props one of his feet up on the tree stump he’s been using as a table oblivious to your attention, shouldering the axe for a moment to glance at the stack of firewood he’d chopped, looking like a mighty warrior surveying his lands. 

Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-

You clear your throat, cheeks darkening crimson, and take in a shaky breath to dissipate the daydream that usually starred in several of your fantasies. The same ones that probably came from the romantasy book that you’d brought along on this trip and were too embarrassed to read when anyone else was awake.

He raises a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, shuffling it back through his hair that turns a chestnut brown in the light of the setting sun that flickered through the thick forest surrounding the small cabin you were all staying in.

Oh to be a drop of sweat.

You think mournfully, taking a long sip of your lemonade out of a brightly colored bendy straw, the same lemonade that you’d made in hopes of enticing Butcher over for a break.

It had worked, but only for twenty seconds.

Twenty glorious seconds that you got to bask in Butcher’s presence so close that you could smell the familiar cologne and the scent of sweat clinging to his skin while he drank the lemonade and you tried not to stare at his bare chest for too long. You hoped that Butcher thought the flush on your cheeks had everything to do with the heat and nothing to do with all the things you were imagining him doing to you. 

And then there had been an additional two seconds when Butcher smiled at you and said “Thanks poppet” in the swoon worthy accent of his that made your knees weak before he sauntered back over to the woodpile and you watched him go shamelessly. 

Hughie says something to Butcher you can’t hear, but it makes Butcher laugh. He throws his head back with a wide grin that makes you sigh to yourself again, hands tensing where they sit poised over the tangle of wires in your lap. 

You were supposed to be working on a new gadget to help grapple up buildings, one that you and Frenchie had designed together, but you were distracted by Butcher. 

You were always distracted by him. 

It had been three days since Butcher, Soldier Boy, Hughie, and you arrived at the cabin in the middle of nowhere after a mission went wrong. The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face. 

You had a sneaking suspicion that MM and Frenchie had something to do with the miscommunication, given how eager they had been to stay behind at headquarters and do paperwork, and the secretive smiles they had shared at the briefing before your team left.

But needless to say, none of you had been eager to live through a reenactment of the eighth plague and all decided to lay low to consider your options, while hoping the locust supe didn’t decimate all of the corn in the midwest.

You shudder remembering the crawl of the scratchy legs along your skin, the flapping of millions of wings like the beat of a drum, the crunch of locusts underfoot, and the low pitched hum of the swarm that vibrated so loud it made you feel your body shaking from the inside out. 

At this point I would have taken a swarm of guinea pigs.

The cabin wasn’t the worst place you’d stayed at in all the time you’d worked with Butcher. There was running water and several rooms inside including two bedrooms with lumpy pillows and mattresses with creaking springs, a living room with a sagging floral couch, and a threadbare kitchen with dusty cabinets and doors that fell off whenever someone tried to open one. 

Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing. 

Sure the cabin had it’s quirks, but the real problem was that the four of you were trapped here in the middle of summer with a generator that only did so much for electricity, but had no air conditioning whatsoever, which meant it was cooler to sit outside on the porch than inside the sweltering cabin. 

Overall, it had been three days of nothing, but listening to Soldier Boy bitch about the lack of extracurricular activities, three days of nothing but hearing the soft chuckle under Hughie’s breath when he texted Annie, and three days of nothing but you lusting after a man who was twice your age chopping wood.

Why was he chopping wood when it was so hot and none of you needed it… You had no idea, but you figured that the universe was finally throwing you a bone because you got to watch him do it.

The porch was cooler than sitting inside. There were two creaky rocking chairs that faced the overgrown “front yard” that was more of a clearing and the breeze did weave under the overhang of the roof to wick the sweat that gathered at the back of your neck, but the problem was, it was impossible for you to feel anything but warm, especially with what was unfolding in front of you. 

The weather isn’t the only thing heating up.

You think to yourself watching Butcher lean down to pick up another piece of wood, admiring the way his worn dark jeans cup his muscular ass.

Fuck, I’m just as bad as Soldier Boy. 

The truth was, you’d been crushing on Butcher for the better part of two years since the moment the two of you met on your first day when you’d tripped and dropped the giant pile of blueprints you were carrying to your desk and he was the only one who stopped to help you pick them up. 

After Homelander had been stripped of his powers and exposed for the narcissistic psychotic freak he was, you’d started working at Supe Affairs, thinking that it was the perfect way for you to make a difference in a world reeling from the revelation. It had shaken quite a few people to know that the so-called heroes they looked up to were in fact just as crooked as a line drawn by an elephant on a tricycle. 

But you liked your job… sometimes. 

Sure, the pay sucked, the benefits were dismal and the hours were long, but you didn’t care about any of that. You felt like you were making a difference, using the engineering degree that your dad had insisted on for something other than trying to figure out how to build a bridge that withstood the force of a punch from someone as strong as Homelander. 

And you hadn’t meant to develop a crush on William Butcher of all people, you swore that each day to yourself, but it happened without warning. He was nice to you, he always had your back on missions, and sometimes when you were working on something after hours on a mission- like the gadget in your lap- Butcher would sit with you while everyone else slept, nursing a glass of whatever it was he had, and he always made you feel like a valued member of the team.

Yes, he might be a little rough around the edges, but you liked that about him, that he didn’t pull punches, rather he told it like it was. It was refreshing in the world you lived in when everyone else was so afraid of offending someone that they just kept their mouths shut. 

But the problem was that you were younger than him and a little inexperienced. 

Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.

That might be a little harsh, he knew you existed, obviously, but rather he didn’t see you as anything more than a teammate or at least like a little sister. The nicknames that he called you were all some form of “kiddo” or “poppet.” Nothing like the things you’d read about men calling the women they loved in books or heard in movies. 

The most experience you had in the realm of love and relationships was binge watching Sex and The City (you could quote it by heart), flipping through Cosmopolitan Magazine and other articles about love on the internet like they were opioids, and reading through romance novels reverently as if they held the secrets of the universe. 

Not to mention the draft of the romance novel on your computer… but you’d go to the grave before anyone ever saw that, and if they did see it you’d take them with you. 

Reading about relationships was easier than having one, at least that was what you told yourself to feel better. It also didn’t help that you’d seen two out of three sisters married with kids, with the third one getting married in a few weeks and you without even a shadow of a date for the wedding.

That meant you would be stuck at the awkward reject table again with your weird fourth cousin who always came on to you and tried to show you the rooster tattoo he had on his hip bone, your dad’s brother who cleaned his dentures in public after he ate and his wife who always asked you what you were “doing” with your life and curled her lip up in distaste no matter what you said, and the gaggle of their ungrateful children who were always sticky for some reason and chewed with their mouths open while spilling food all over the table like cavemen.

Sitting there with them made facing the locust supe more appealing.

But even with the pressure of trying to find someone, anyone to take, you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell Butcher how you felt about him. 

Butcher glances over as if he can sense you and you immediately drop your eyes to the bundle of gears and wires in your lap pretending to fiddle with something that doesn’t need to be fixed.

Yes, because that’s the way I’m going to win him over, by making absolutely no eye contact. Perfect, masterful. What can go wrong?

What the books, magazines, tv shows, and movies didn’t prepare you for was how to find the courage to talk to someone of the opposite sex without feeling like your tongue was going to drop out of your mouth or like you were going to throw up. 

You wait a few beats until you’re sure that he’s no longer looking at you before you raise your head to watch Butcher again. 

Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm. 

“What?” You ask him. 

He exhales a long and obnoxious cloud of foul smelling smoke from the joint he has in his hand. “I think you’re a hypocrite.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re out here eye-fucking that asshole and you yell at me for staring at you.” He chuckles with a wide smirk as he takes another hit from the blunt.

How can he smoke that? It’s like 100 degrees out here!

“I am not!” You reply as loudly as you dare, glancing over to Butcher to make sure that he didn’t hear Ben’s comment, anxiety prickling along the back of your neck, but he’s still talking to Hughie about something. “And you don’t just stare at me! You come up behind me like some gremlin out of hell, with your big hands and-”

“We both know how much you like the attention doll.”

“I do not!” Your cheeks flare bright red. 

The only downside to working on Butcher’s team was sitting directly next to you. When you found out that you’d be working with Soldier Boy, one of your dad’s favorite heroes, you were excited to meet him, and then you had and he turned into another giant disappointment. He was loud, brash, short-tempered, rude, and was always either ogling you, coming on to you, smoking something, or drinking. 

You supposed it could be worse. You didn’t hate him, and you got along with him, but he was always around. The plus side was that Ben was the one of the only people you didn’t have a hard time talking to.

Yes, he was attractive, but his particular lifestyle didn’t appeal to you and for that reason whatever nerves you had about talking to attractive men of the opposite sex evaporated when it came to Ben. 

It was unfortunate that such a skill was wasted on him of all people.

“I just-” You hesitate, eyes dropping back down to the grappling device in your lap, not sure why you’re about to admit this to Soldier Boy when you haven’t been able to admit it to anyone else. 

Probably because I’m sick of singing the line from Frozen “conceal don’t feel” over and over in my head.

“I find him extremely attractive.” You mumble on a shaky breath. 

“I’m sitting right here.” The frown in Ben’s voice is prominent, but it only makes you roll your eyes at him. 

“I know.” Your eyebrows furrow together. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why are you looking at him when you could have my full attention.” He leans forward, dark hair falling forward into his eyes, mouth pulling up in a confident smirk. "I mean there's nothing else to fucking do, might as well do me."

Your cheeks flush with his words, but you tilt your head to the side to study him, eyes slipping over his rugged features. Tracing over the neatly trimmed beard on his cheeks, the brilliant green eyes that seemed to glow, the way his muscular body filled out his black t-shirt and blue jeans, the soft dusting of freckles that contrasted the hardness of the man he was flecked over his skin, and his full lips that are curved up in a sinful smirk that would make even the strongest woman crumble. 

But not you. Ben was… Ben. He was brash, obnoxious, handsy, impatient, and disrespectful. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

Sure you didn’t work with him often, but you believed you had a pretty good grasp on the kind of person he was. You did, right?

“You’re not my type Benny.” Your eyes flick back to the project in your lap, moving your fingers deftly through the wires of the internal mechanism.

Ben recoils at the use of his nickname, but he recovers with a low chuckle. “Don’t call me that and I’m everybody's type.”

“Not mine. I don’t like supes.”

You weren’t sure if that was 100% true. You liked Kimiko. What you meant to say was that you didn’t like supes like him. Supes that used his powers without care for the consequences, Supes like Homelander who didn’t give a shit who got hurt as long as the job was done. 

And you weren’t a supe, which meant that if you were with a supe there was always the possibility of you dying during sex or dying before you had sex in the first place. Your job also presented the possibility of you dying before you’d had sex, but you weren’t going to let that hold you back.

“But Butcher has-” Ben begins to say.

“Temporary powers. Not all the time.” You correct, unable to stop your eyes from drifting back over to where Butcher has begun to start swinging the axe again. “And look at him. Fuck, he’s over there like Paul Bunyan, rugged, chopping wood-” You sigh continuing to watch the man who probably has no idea you exist.

Ben rolls his eyes. “I could do that.”

You don’t pay Ben any attention, because Butcher is bending over again and you bite the inside of your cheek hard. 

Ben sits there for another few beats watching you watch Butcher. The wind chimes that hang above your heads jingle merrily as the breeze picks up once more bringing the smell of the wild flowers and wet earth from the forest surrounding the cabin. 

“You know I could help you.” Ben says slowly.

Your eyes flick back to Ben from Butcher in confusion. “Help me?”

What is he talking about? Does he think he can figure out how to fix the grapple gun? The other day he couldn’t figure out how to open the automatic trunk of a car and he just ripped the trunk door right off.

“Get him.” Ben nods his head in Butcher’s direction, but you’re still confused.

“How?”

And why? Why does Soldier Boy want to help me of all people?

“Well, I could help you make him jealous.” Ben leans towards you, his eyes sweeping once over you as he does, lingering too long on your chest and the edge of the jean shorts you were wearing.

“And how would you do that?”

“Well for starters you could come sit on my lap baby, see how you like it.” Ben winks. “Take me for a little ride.”

“Pass.” You roll your eyes. 

“Oh I see you want to have a more advanced lesson.” He smiles, scooting his chair towards yours, a dull scrape of wood on wood, so now his knee is touching yours. “He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“

“No thanks.” You interrupt, face flushing when you imagine what he was about to say.

Ben stiffens in surprise. “What?”

“I’m good.” You shrug. “I’m gonna get him the old fashioned way.”

The same old fashioned way that I’ve been using for the past two years and had absolutely no results.

“And what way is that? Pining after him and hoping that one day he’ll finally notice you?” Ben scoffs. “I can see how well that’s working for you doll-face. How long have you been working with him?”

“Two years-”

“Fuck, two years?” Ben sputters. “You should just tell him that you want him to fuck you.” 

“That won’t work.”

Ben’s face scrunches in confusion, the joint clasped in between his thumb and forefinger forgotten. “Why the hell not?”

“Because-” You glance down at your hands, thumb running along the jagged edge of the grappling hook slightly embarrassed. The last thing you wanted to tell Soldier Boy was that you were a virgin. The guy would mock you endlessly. “Because I’m younger than him and he’s-”

He’s experienced. 

“So? You think that he hasn’t thought about fucking you?” Ben takes a long sip from the whiskey sitting beside his chair. “He’d be lucky to have a little piece like you.”

You blink in surprise. It was the closest to a compliment that Ben had ever given you. He did tend to compliment your figure whenever you were around, but you usually ignored that because he did that to everyone. 

Truthfully, the thought of dating Ben didn’t appeal to you at all, but the thought of using him to make Butcher jealous was not a terrible one. And at this point, you didn’t have anything to lose. 

Well… except THAT, but you wanted it to be special, at least that’s what you’d always told yourself.

You sigh, a little frustrated, watching Butcher out of the corner of your eye swing the axe in a glorious arch to the earth. You weren’t sure how to get Butcher’s attention. You’d tried the usual things…

Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation.

Gone completely mute when he asked you a question.

Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room.

Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.

Basically the social anxiety was working wonders on the office romance you wanted so badly. 

“Ben?” You say tentatively, hands tightening on the contraption in your lap. At this rate you were never going to fix it and Butcher was going to have to figure out how to fly. 

“Yes, gorgeous?” Ben raises an eyebrow. The blunt is between his lips now and he’s looking at you curiously.

“If we did pretend to be…” You swallow nervously. 

“Fucking?” He leans forward eagerly, eyes twinkling with interest.

Well… I’ve never understood what it meant when someone wrote “his eyes darkened” until this very moment. 

“Dating” You correct holding up a finger.

Does his mind always go to the gutter?

You remember everything you think you know about Ben.

Yes. Yes it does.

Ben leans back with a frown. “I don’t date.”

“Well it wouldn’t be real! You’d just be helping me make him jealous and it would be nice to have a little practice maybe…”

“Practice?” He looks confused. It wasn’t the first time he had in this conversation or within the last five minutes, but like hell you were about to admit without at least one drink to Soldier Boy the extent of your dating life.

“Yeah. I’m not the best at talking to people or-”

“You’re talking just fine right now.”

“You’re different.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you annoy me and I don’t know you’re easier to talk to for some reason!” 

“Thanks.” Ben says dryly. 

By now all the anxious energy has begun to pop and crackle against your skin at the thought of what the two of you could be doing and at the thought of you two actually pulling this off and you having a shot with Butcher. Not just a shot in hell, a real shot.

“But if you’re serious about helping me get him-“ You continue.

“I was.”

It was odd that he was the one who had suggested this in the first place, and even weirder that he didn’t seem hesitant at all to be doing this. 

Maybe he thinks that we’re going to have sex. Your throat tightened at the thought, eyes widening, your nerve endings electrifying with anxiety. Oh holy fuck what if he thinks that if we do this he’ll get to do whatever he wants to me?

You clear your throat, heart beating just a little bit harder in your chest. The entire situation was making you regret the extra cup of coffee you had this morning. “What exactly would I have to do?” You don’t recognize your voice. It comes out a little more wobbly and just a little more tentative than it was. 

You didn’t know what Ben was expecting you to do and you didn’t want to say yes, only for him to force you into sleeping with him like he’d suggested earlier, the most you'd thought the two of you would do is just make out a little-

Oh holy fuck then we’d have to kiss and I don’t know if I’m a good kisser and he’s definitely kissed more than one person not to mention he’s-

The thought made you flush to the roots of your hair. 

Ben hesitates, eyeing you and you wonder if he can hear the deranged monologue inside your head or if he can hear just how hard your heart was beating. You hoped not. 

“You wouldn’t have to do anything, doll. I’m not going to force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” There’s something genuine in his eyes when he answers your question, something that you’d never noticed before. 

Your mouth drops open in surprise. 

It wasn’t that you believed that Ben was that kind of man, but rather that what he just said to you might have been the most caring thing that he’d ever uttered in front of you. He was the last person that you’d expect to care about someone being uncomfortable or care if someone else was okay with everything that was happening in the bedroom.

Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do.

In all honesty you only knew the way Ben acted, you didn’t know anything about his life. The man kept his cards closer to his chest than a well-seasoned card player and his poker face, forget it. You couldn’t crack that combination even if you wanted to. 

Everything else you'd heard about him was through the grapevine of gossip at work. None of it was first hand.

Ben sighs and shakes his head at you as if he’s a little annoyed with himself for saying that out loud. “But I still think it would be easier if you just told him that you wanted him to fuck you. Would’ve worked on me.”

“I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

And it was true. You could take down a target, diffuse a bomb in less than ten seconds with a thin mint and a bobby pin, but saying something out loud like that to something else made you feel nauseous.

Ben hesitates again and in his hesitation the anxiety and embarrassment starts to come soaring back into your chest.

You were asking Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy, to pretend to date you so Billy Butcher would fall in love with you. 

Well kids, this must be what rock bottom feels like. I might as well just pray that the locusts come back to take me away. 

“Fine.” Ben states. 

“Really?” Your eyes widen.

He shrugs, but doesn’t answer.

“We’d have to have rules.” You blurt, and Ben makes a face.

“Rules? Never been too good with those, Sweetheart.”

“And I’d need you to promise that you wouldn’t-” 

You lose your train of thought in the wind chimes that rattle over your head and the sound of Butcher’s laugh.

“Wouldn’t?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Lose control.”

Honestly, sometimes you were a little afraid of Ben. You’d never say that out loud or admit it, but he was stronger than Homelander.

You knew Ben's reputation around the office- heard the hushed whispers of the women in the break room who said he was the best fuck of their lives, heard the horror stories of what he did to his old team, and had seen first hand what his temper was like. You also knew about his powers and worried that Ben might have a little bit of a control problem or at the very least anger management issues.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt you if that’s what you think.” Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at your insinuation. “I’m not some fucking monster, doll.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-”

Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this. 

Keep it together… 

“I wouldn’t hurt you by accident either.” Ben’s green eyes are focused on yours, and you can see just a sliver of emotion behind them that you can’t identify. “But if we’re going to do this you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What?” Your voice comes out like a squeak.

“You’ve got to promise not to fall in love with me.” He sends you a saucy wink that makes you want to punch the strongest man on earth, instead you settle for pushing him back from you.

But you’re not prepared for the wave of disappointment you feel when he lets go of your chin. 

“I’m not in any danger of that Benny. You’re not half as smooth as you think you are.” You start to lean back in your chair, but Ben reaches out to grab your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle, the contact burning through your body, as he pulls you forward, so close you can smell his cologne. Somehow it's something that smells classic and modern at the same time, a hint of spice that tickles your nose and makes your throat tight. 

His voice lowers into a purr that vibrates through his chest, his next words expelled on a warm breath that weaves through the air between the two of you. 

“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.” 

What have I gotten myself into?

A/N: Again, not what I was expecting, but I really love this one y'all and I probably laughed way too hard at bits when I was writing it.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

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@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @waynes-multiverse

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[chelseacult]

False Hope

Niamh Charles x Reader

Summary: off at an away game, you and Niamh ditch the team dinner for a night in at your hotel.

Word Count: 1.8k

The thickening tension in your joint hotel room could be cut with a knife. The look of concentration on Niamh’s face as she eyes down the chessboard considering her next move intimidates you. You struggle to predict where she’s planning on placing the knight that her fingers rest on. She picks it up, and that’s when you see her game plan. She’s got you hook, line, and sinker with one move. You’re about to lose.

You let out a defeated sigh upon realizing that she’s going to beat you again. At the noise, she glances up at you. She hesitates for a second before reversing her path and placing the piece back where it was. Her hand leaves the knight, switching over to her last standing bishop, and she slides it down the board. 

“Your turn,” she urges as she leans back in her chair, looking up at you with an encouraging smile. 

You look down at the board, noticing that her move has left her king vulnerable. You look back at her, shooting her an unimpressed look. “Babe, come on.”

“What?” she asks with a slight tilt of her head.

“There’s literally no way you missed that,” you gesture to the chessboard. 

“Missed what?” she pretends to be confused, leaning forward to inspect the board. You reach forward, moving one of your pieces and capturing her king, signaling your win.

“You won!” Niamh gasps, theatrical enough to let you know she’s not actually surprised. The way she’s smiling at you is usually enough to make you melt, but you’re more focused on the fact that she just let you win.

“I know you saw that! Stop letting me win,” you say exasperatedly, your voice laced with more annoyance than you’re really feeling. 

“I’m not! You’re getting better! I’m so proud of you,” she says excitedly. She abruptly rises from her seat and rushes over to you, pulling you into a tight embrace. The angle’s a little awkward with you still sitting, but the warmth of her lips against your temple and the soft whisper of “good job, baby” against your skin distracts you from the straining of your neck.

The minuscule amount of annoyance you’re still feeling dissipates when you see the look on her face as she pulls back. She’s the most competitive person you know, but she looks over the moon at your win.

“Rematch?” she asks, sliding back into her seat. You nod.

The two of you get back into action, tension once again rising as you take turns stealing each other’s pieces and attempting to keep the other on their toes. As it always starts, Niamh is outplaying you, and you’d bet money that your loss is impending. As you’re waiting for the inevitable checkmate, she switches up her attack. Almost identical to her ploy earlier, Niamh moves her pawn forward, freeing up a direct path for you to capture her king for the second time tonight. 

“Really?” you exasperrate, staring at the board in disbelief. 

She brushes off your complaint with a smirk. “You should think about going pro. Beating the team’s resident chess champ isn’t a simple feat, you know.”

“I’ve never seen you make a move that stupid.” You lean back in your chair, arms crossed, eyebrows raised as you stare her down.

“Honest mistake, love. I’m off my game today,” she chuckles, giving a slight shrug.

“I see right through you.” Despite your words, you mirror the smile on her face. 

“If you don’t want to admit you’ve beaten me fair and square, we can call it a draw.” Her gaze flickers to the board momentarily, then back to you, amusement present in her eyes. “I’d savor the moment if I were you, though. Probably won’t happen again,” she adds with a smirk.

You scoff. “You’re taking your supposed losses too well. If you really want to sell it, you need to act more upset.”

“I could start crying if you want,” she jokes, the knowing glint in her eyes still present. 

“I mean, yeah, that’d be in character for you.”

She laughs. Your laughter follows.

“But, seriously. The pawn out of all pieces to-” you start, but she raises a hand, stopping you mid-sentence. “Don’t ruin this for yourself. Enjoy the win,” she urges.

“Round three, then? Maybe we can get you on a winning streak,” she asks, pointedly ignoring the glare you shoot in her direction. The underlying message in her words is clear: I’m going to keep letting you win.

“A pity win streak, thank you so much,” you deadpan, unable to stop the hint of a smile threatening to break through. She must notice your failed attempt to keep your smile at bay because her grin widens the longer she looks at you. 

A rush of feelings hits you then, and you’re overcome with love for the woman seated across from you. She just let you win again, and she’s happy about it. It’s almost subconscious when you stand and walk over to where she’s sitting. Her smirk softens as you lean down, and she tilts her head to meet you. Your lips meet hers, pressing a brief kiss against them. 

“I love you. Even when you lie to me,” you whisper, feeling her smiling against your lips.

“I love you too,” she whispers back. 

You turn to walk back to your chair, but she grasps your wrist and tugs you back in. Her hands reach either side of your face, warm as she pulls you down to her level. She presses a series of sloppy kisses against your lips, and the laugh you muffle between the kisses causes her smile to widen.

She watches as you retake your seat, her face a bit redder than before. It’d be impossible to miss the adoration in her eyes. You’re positive that both her growing blush and look of adoration are reflected on your own face.

The two of you begin resetting the board, preparing it for another round. The silence is comfortable as you put the pieces back in their respective positions. 

“I don’t let just anyone beat me, by the way,” Niamh eventually states.

Your attention shifts back to her, noting the small smile on her face. “Oh, you’re admitting it already?”

The smile on her face shifts to a look of feigned confusion as she glances up at you. “Admitting what?”

“I give up,” you huff.

“Good. Your start,” she smiles, nodding to the board and gently nudging your foot with hers.

As you go to move one of your pieces, there’s a loud series of knocks at the door, causing you both to flinch. 

“Room service!” Niamh shouts. 

You send a confused look her way. “You ordered room service?”

“Nah, joking. I don’t know who it is,” she laughs. You let out a sound that mixes a scoff and a laugh as you stand up and head to the door. You’ve barely undone the lock before Sam comes barreling into the room. 

“What are you guys doing? Come on, team dinner! We’re all going,” she yells. You and Niamh let out matching groans at the reminder of the event you were both hoping to avoid. 

“How’d you know our room number? Creep,” you ask with a teasing lilt.

“I have my ways.” Sam stops in her tracks as she notes the chessboard on the table. “You guys are seriously hiding away to play chess? Nerds.”

“Rude!” Niamh utters under her breath. Sam waves a dismissive hand in her direction. “Who won though?” she asks.

Niamh gestures in your direction, and her proud smile almost makes you believe her false narrative of your success.

“What? No way. She let you win?” Sam shifts her attention to you.

“Ye-” you start.

“No! She just has a good teacher. Best on the team, I reckon,” Niamh says smugly, subtly winking in your direction.

Shifting her attention back to Niamh, Sam gives her a skeptical look. You turn to Niamh and mirror the look on Sam’s face.

“Don’t gang up on me!” Niamh exclaims.

“Niamh, you hate losing,” Sam says pointedly. 

“It’s not preferred, but I don’t hate it,” she argues.

Sam raises one eyebrow. “Yes, you do,” she counters.

Niamh sighs, then shrugs. “She just gets really happy when she wins,” Niamh admits almost sheepishly, making an effort to avoid eye contact with you.

Sam’s exaggerated fake gagging cuts off the teasing remark on the tip of your tongue. 

“Stop, I’m disgusted. And we need to go! Niamh, get up,” Sam gestures for Niamh to get out of her chair, prompting another groan to leave her lips. You shuffle over to her, holding out a hand to help pull her from the chair. 

“You’re also late, if you failed to notice,” Niamh remarks to Sam as she takes your hand, giving it a grateful squeeze as she stands.  

Sam shrugs. “I have an excuse. You guys are here being losers.”

“You’d die if you saw the puzzles we brought,” you laugh, the laughter of the other two following shortly after. 

“Gonna pretend I didn’t hear that. And don’t get me started on how you bribed Sonia to assign you guys the same room.”

“We’ll give you some tips!” Niamh playfully remarks as Sam walks back to the door.

“Lobby. Five minutes,” Sam says sternly, pointing back and forth between the two of you. “If you’re not there, I’ll come back up and drag you both out of the room.” She exits before either of you can respond.

You turn to Niamh with a smug grin on your face. If the bashful look on her face tells you anything, she knows exactly what you’re about to say.

“You admitted it.” You punctuate your statement with a gentle tug of her hand, urging her to meet your gaze. She obliges, her fingers momentarily tightening around yours as she sighs and turns toward you.

“Alright,” she drawls. “I let you win. I thought you’d let it go by now.”

“You know better than that.”

She huffs out a laugh. “I know. Ever the persistent one, aren’t you?” she teases, leaning forehead to kiss your forehead. The warmth of her lips on your skin spreads like wildfire through you.

“Come on,” she mumbles against you before pulling away. “Sam will kill us if we make her wait any longer.”

“Fine,” you relent, extending a hand towards her. “But we’re having a rematch when we get back. And you’re not going easy on me this time.” 

“Deal,” she agrees, smiling as she firmly shakes your hand. 

Her grip lingers a little longer than necessary. As she lets go, you catch a flash of something unreadable in her eyes. It’s enough to have you wondering if she intends to keep her word. When she leans in to kiss you one last time before you exit the room, you realize it doesn’t really matter. 

a/n: this idea popped into my head while I was watching an old lionesses YT vid where chess was brought up. sorry if the chess lingo is confusing, hope you enjoyed!

[archangeldyke-all]

Hi Angel!! I first wanted to say that I love all your Sevika stories, they never fail to make my days better!

So, I've recently been thinking about little fucker and the twins a lot ((bc I found out I'm gonna be an aunt for twins :DD and it made me wonder how did Sev and Reader react to the news, like.. "what. WERE HAVING TWINS??? HOW." something like this lmao.

Not sure if you've already written something like this, but I've practically read all of your masterlists lmao. If you did feel free to skip cuz I have really bad short term memory ;))

oh my god that's so exciting!!! congrats auntie!!! i think i wrote a few little sentences about this in one of the first twins posts, but lets make it a full fledged story heheeh <3

(also as always with these stories, don't think too much about how the pregnancy happened. reader is trans, or has a magical strap, or it's just yuri magic. you choose hehe)

men and minors dni

for the first few days after sevika's pregnancy test coming back positive, you're both living in denial.

"how am i pregnant? i thought this was menopause! i thought i was done with all this shit!" sevika whines.

you giggle a little hysterically, then pull her into your arms. "i have no fuckin' idea." you say, blinking in shock. "holy shit. i actually knocked you up."

sevika giggles just as crazily in your hold. "congrats."

"i've been trying to get revenge on you for little fucker since you first knocked me up with her!" you laugh. sevika snorts and smacks your shoulder.

"don't say revenge. oh fuck, this is gonna miserable, isn't it?" sevika whines. you kiss her sweetly.

"it's the most amazing thing that's ever happened!"

"you're such a shit. you're just happy it isn't you this time around."

"damn right i am!" you laugh. sevika smiles at you, and then her face falls. you coo and wrap her up in another hug. "it's gonna be alright sevi-bear. i'm gonna be with you every step of the way."

"no, it's not that." sevika whimpers as she nuzzles against your shoulder. "i'm just-- i'm so happy. we're gonna have another one, baby, holy shit."

you grin and pull sevika in for a kiss.

her reaction isn't quite as happy when you get to your doctor's office, though.

"o-oh!" the ultrasound tech gasps.

"good 'oh?'" sevika worries, sitting up a bit from her spot on the paper covered exam table.

"you're having twins, mommies! congratulations!" the tech gasps, grinning up at you and sevika.

you blink.

the tech giggles with glee and turns back to her monitor, clearly handling the news better than you are. you blink again, then look down at sevika.

she's glaring at you like she's going to murder you.

it's only now that the tech's words hit you. and for some reason, you burst into laughter.

"t-twins?!" you cackle. "like, two of 'em?! how-- how the hell did we do that!?" you ask.

the tech blinks up at you in surprise, opens her mouth to speak, but you don't hear her answer. you're too busy grinning down at your wife.

"i'm gonna kill you." sevika finally whispers. you burst into another round of laughs.

"alright. just wait 'til after the pregnancy, think you might want me around these next few months, mama." you tease.

sevika's glare is deadly, but you can't find it in you to stop laughing. holy shit. two more little babies running around your house. if they're anything like their sister, they'll look exactly like sevika. tears well up in your eyes as you gaze lovingly down at your angry wife, imagining two pairs of grumpy baby eyes glaring up at you while you try to change their diapers.

"are you crying?!" sevika squawks. "why the hell are you crying, i should be the one crying!"

"you can cry too, baby!" you giggle, a surge of love taking over your body. before you know what's happening, you're smacking the tech's hand away from your wife's belly and straddling her waist, peppering her face with an endless barrage of kisses. "oh, holy shit, baby, we're gettin' two more of 'em!"

sevika's glare lessens a bit, a small smile ticking up at the corner of her mouth. you can see her softening to the idea; two more babies for you to love; but before a full smile can take over her face she forces herself back into a frown. "we can barely afford the kid we've got." she huffs.

you snort. "that's the beauty of hand-me-downs, sev. plus, silco gave you a big raise when we had the little fucker, what makes you think he'll hold back now that it's your turn?"

"we live in a two bedroom home!"

"we can move!"

"while i'm pregnant with twins?!"

"i'll start looking for a new place the second we get home."

sevika finally smiles, rolling her eyes and giggles a bit. "i can't believe you." she whispers. you grin.

"you're the love of my fucking life. i can't believe you."

the door clicks shut, and you both look up from your embrace to find that the tech has snuck out to give you some privacy.

and, finally, sevika bursts into laughter along with you.

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones

@chezze-its @lez-zuha @vikashoneybee @shanesevikasfuckdoll @imheadintothemountains

@nanajustnana-a @helaenabugmom

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

[urrmomzfavorite]

PAC WHY PEOPLE FALL FOR YOU

HEYY bestieee ✨ Let’s move on from that balding man who’s been making you cry and check out my MASTERLIST instead. Let’s find someone who’s actually meant for you—preferably someone with a full head of hair. I mean, I’ve had my Vin Diesel moment too, queen, but let’s be real… it’s not actually him. 💀 Time to upgrade to someone who doesn’t make you question your life choices, okay? 😘

Pile One

You come into people’s lives like a quiet storm. You look so innocent, so pure—but you come with surprises. You will never be what is expected of you, and that’s what people love about you. They never know what they’re going to get; their preconceived ideas of you shatter the second you open your mouth.

You’re incredibly smart, clever with your words, and skilled at finding creative solutions to problems. Your good looks, ability to identify people’s strengths, and ease in forming connections (or conundrums) make you the perfect leader. People get close to admire your beauty, bask in your light, and quickly find themselves wrapped around your finger.

You make people surrender to you—they have no choice but to bow to your power. Some find this uncomfortable, but the ones who swim in the sauce? They demand more, getting lost trying to decipher you. You’re multidimensional, a force to be reckoned with, a beauty that commands worship, and a sharp mind. How could anyone not fall for you?

✨💖 Heyyy cuties! 💖✨ Don’t be shy, take a little peek at my other posts—you know you wanna!

Pile Two

“Did it hurt falling from heaven?” You little demon. Pile Two, you’re intoxicating—a sweet poison. (I’m hearing Sweet Nothing by Calvin Harris playing in the background.) It’s hard to resist you; your sweet words turn people into believers of your gospel. They need to hear you, be near you, and earn your attention. It’s fun… until it gets clingy.

Pile Two, that push-and-pull power play you act so coy about? It’s dangerous. You’re the match to their gasoline. They’d been floating in still water, comfortable in their stillness—then you disrupted it all. You glide through life with ease and charm, and they find you refreshing. “It’s exactly what I needed,” they say. You’re a cold glass of water in the desert—needed, awaited.

You break a lot of hearts, some intentionally, others because people take care of that themselves. They get intrigued by you and talk themselves out of approaching you. But oh boy, no matter what, you linger, becoming a core memory, a core regret.

By the time they realize you’re what they needed, you’re already gone. It’s hard to hold onto you; you feel like a dream. They’ll swear they imagined you, like a mirage… until you reappear, reminding them how dull life felt without you.

✨💖 Heyyy cuties! 💖✨ Don’t be shy, take a little peek at my other posts—you know you wanna!

Pile Three

It’s your world, and we’re just living in it. Yes, babe—we’re aware, and we’re into it. (I’m the voice of the people!) Pile Three, you’re impossible to miss. That Easy A line? “Google could find me if I was a crack in concrete.” You know, when she comes back to school after the rumor about her losing her "virginity" spreads. You could easily be sexualized by your peers. They fantasize about having you because you seem unreachable, like they’d need to be someone important just to stand next to you.

You’ve got the it factor, that star quality. You belong under a spotlight, and everyone sees it. Your style? The way you put outfits together? Chef’s kiss. People want to be your friend, your lover, part of your circle—but stay wary of energy vampires. They don’t know if they want to be you or be with you. A little bit of both, perhaps? Probably.

Copycats try to mimic you, but it’s never quite right. You’re authentic; they’re just desperate to be liked. Even if others can’t explain it, they feel the difference. You’re put on a pedestal—and honestly? That’s where you belong. 😘

✨💖 Heyyy cuties! 💖✨ Don’t be shy, take a little peek at my other posts—you know you wanna!

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

second chance. l Frankie "Catfish" Morales

Summary: you broke up after a quarrel, now you've met again

Warnings: angst, mentioning drug addiction, crying, breakup, mentioned Santi, some fluff at the end

A/N: I had to clear my head. I'm not proud of it, but I had to write something. Be gentle. Thank you for being here and reading these scribbles.

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist][Frankie Morales masterlist]

"Hi, you look good."

You didn't expect those words, but you knew that voice so well that your heart skipped a beat. A strange feeling filled your body, as if someone had suddenly stripped you of all your insides and left you empty. Even though the pub was filled with people, suddenly it was just you and him.

"Hi, Frankie." You replied, trying to keep your voice neutral. "You look good too."

A small smile appeared on his lips, he probably realized that it was just a polite greeting. A greeting for those who know each other. But you were more than that, right?

You didn't expect to meet him in this pub that evening. It was a strange assumption, because after all, you lived in the same city. However, when you break up with someone, and that breakup was like a hurricane and an earthquake in one, you don't usually try to meet them again soon.

And so it was with you and Frankie. Almost a year ago, maybe a little longer. And now he was standing in front of you. In a clean shirt and dark jeans, in a cap you knew so well. Brown eyes stared at you with the same attentiveness as before. He really looked good. Like he had a good night's sleep, eaten a few solid meals and... was clean.

"Do you come here often?" he asked, he noticed you looking around the crowd of people looking for someone with your eyes. "Um, are you here with someone?"

"With a friend." you replied. "Do you remember Sarah?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I remember. A girls' night out?"

"Something like that. But no, I don't come here often. I don't have much free time."

Frankie smiled, and a part of your brain woke up sending you a signal - you loved his smile so much.

"I always thought you worked too much." he said, winking at you.

"That's not it." you looked down and there was silence for a moment.

You felt embarrassed by his presence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. You had worked through all the bad feelings you had when you broke up, and you actually missed him a little. Did it make sense? You had broken your hearts, but you still missed him. Was it masochistic?

"I've been going to school for a while now. You know, I told you about it. Back in the day..."

Frankie's eyes widened with interest as he remembered what you were talking about. "No, shit! Really? That's great! You've wanted to do this for a long time, so good for you."

A warm feeling crept up the back of your neck, but you smiled widely. "Thank you."

Frankie bit his lip and nodded in appreciation. "I've always thought you were incredibly smart. So that's what's taking up so much of your time now? That and work?"

"Yeah. Sometimes I go days without a proper meal or... I'm sorry, that must bore you."

"No! Go on, darling."

The sweet nickname slipped out of his mouth naturally, and it was even more natural when he took your elbow and led you a little to the side so you could talk in peace. The smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, you knew it so well. Your body began to react with pleasant excitement to his presence.

"And what about you? How's life?" you asked.

Frankie adjusted his cap and let out a breath. "Good. Quite good." he replied. "I changed companies, and now I have really good conditions."

"That's great."

"Yeah, I think so too."

It was late when he got home, but he could feel something was wrong from the very beginning. All the lights were on, and the noises coming from the bedroom were rather unusual.

Damn it, you should be asleep already. He didn't feel like starting another row, and they filled these walls almost every day. However, he dragged himself down the hallway and gently pushed the door open.

Frankie didn't expect this. There was an open suitcase on the bed. He noticed a bundle of your clothes thrown into it in disarray. The drawers in the dresser and the wardrobe were open.

He cleared his throat and took a step, but at the same moment you came out of the bathroom carrying your cosmetics in your hands. You stood there paralyzed when you saw Frankie in the doorway.

Your eyes were swollen from crying, but there was something else in them. Anger and stubbornness, determination.

"What's going on?" he asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

You lifted your chin slightly. "What does this look like?" you asked as well, quickly approaching the bed and throwing your things into the suitcase. With a graceful movement you closed it "I'm leaving. It's over."

A cold shiver ran down his spine. He took a few more steps and put his hands on his hips watching you struggle with the latches.

"Come on..." Frankie began "It's late. Let's talk about this."

You didn't react. Something inside him boiled and he grabbed the handle of the suitcase, dragging it across the bed towards him.

"Leave it!" you hissed, catching it and holding it "I'm not joking, Frankie! I'm leaving! I've had enough!"

"What this time?" he replied a little too loudly "You're making a scene!"

Before the words left his mouth he already knew he had overdone it. Your eyes widened in a second.

You reached into your pants pocket and after a moment you threw something at him. The small bag bounced off his broad chest and fell silently to the carpet. He recognized it immediately.

"I found it in the car. You must have dropped it last time." you growled.

"It's not like that..."

"Bullshit!" Tears welled up in your eyes. "I've been hearing the same lies for months! I know exactly why you got fired! I wanted to help you, and you promised me you'd never... Ohhh!"

You grabbed the handle of your suitcase and pulled it to the ground, then headed for the door. You pushed past him without letting him grab your arm. Frankie had taken you to the edge. You'd been together for almost two years, and you really loved him. But his addiction was becoming more important than you. You asked, you wanted to help.

The therapist you found for him told you that Frankie had only been to see him three times before he stopped showing up at all. He told you that he went there regularly. Then there were the problems at work and he got fired, he started coming home later and later, and when you were looking for something that had fallen on the floor of your car and you found that damn bag - you already knew.

Your heart was breaking with every step, but you knew that Frankie needed shock therapy. You knew you couldn't...

"Frankie!"

You almost reached the door when you suddenly lost ground under your feet. Strong arms wrapped around your waist and Frankie lifted you up. You started kicking your legs.

"Let me go!" you screamed.

"You're not going anywhere! You can't!" he thundered, putting you down and turning to face him "You have to listen to me, it's not like that..."

"Shut up! You've been lying all this time! All this time!"

"Not when I said I loved you, hermosa."

"Oh! Cut this shit! This isn't love!" your face was full of rage, you wanted to hurt him, to stick a needle in him so hard that it would hurt him for a long time "You just needed someone to clean up the mess after you! Someone to pat you on the head and let you do all this! You needed a pussy you could fuck!"

There was silence. Frankie's hands were gripping your shoulders tightly, his eyes darkened.

"You know that's not true." he finally said.

"Yeah? And what of what you're saying is true? Nothing. Zero. I wanted to help you, but you don't care at all." you jerked away "Let me go, Frankie."

"You have to listen to me..."

"Let me go! Now!"

His fingers loosened and you slipped out of his hands. You grabbed your suitcase again and this time you reached the door.

"I love you." his resigned voice reached your ears.

"I'm not so sure about that anymore."

You took a sip of beer while listening to Frankie. He seemed excited about his new job, and the energy that flowed from him was simply positive. His hand would occasionally brush your arm or wrist as you both burst out laughing, his eyes looking at you with the tenderness you knew from the beginning of your acquaintance.

"I guess I'll have to go back now." You sighed, glancing at your phone. "I have classes tomorrow."

"Do you like it?" he asked, watching you text your friend back, informing her that you had to leave.

"What do you mean?" you looked up at him. Frankie shrugged.

"Your life. Now. Because it seems to me that you're different. More fulfilled? Happier?"

"I don't know, I haven't thought about it to be honest."

He nodded, his hand shyly finding yours. "Can I give you a lift home?"

You agreed. Maybe you shouldn't have, maybe it was a mistake. But Frankie had somehow found his way to your heart, and you didn't want to part ways with him yet.

"When you left..." he began as you drove through the empty streets towards your apartment "It hit me. Really hard."

You clenched your fingers, but you couldn't look in his direction. But Frankie clearly wanted to talk, maybe he had been waiting for this for a really long time and could finally get it all off his chest.

"I drank for three days. I don't remember much from that period. Santi showed up at my place and... He told me something I'll never forget."

You could barely recognize your own voice. "What did he say?"

Frankie cleared his throat. "He said it was all my fault. That I was dragging you down, and you were trying to keep us both afloat the whole time. He also said that if I wanted you back, that if I loved you at all, I should do something about it."

Something tightened your throat and your eyes stung from the tears that were seeping into your eyelids. The car turned, you were already close to your apartment.

"I went to therapy. Santi took me there twice a week. It was a terrible time. He had to take my phone because I wanted to call you every day. I don't know how I managed to get through it without you."

"But you did it." You dared to look at him, a weak smile appeared on his face. "I'm so proud of you, Frankie."

"Thank you."

The car stopped. Your journey ended, and you got out, feeling like your legs were almost giving out under you. You whispered a quiet "thank you" and "I'm glad I saw you, Frankie." and then feeling like your heart almost jumped out of your chest, you headed for the door.

"I still love you."

You closed your eyes. His voice was clear, determined. You stopped, feeling like you could fall apart at any moment.

"Frankie..." you whispered, but he wouldn't let you do more.

He was right behind you now, you could feel the heat radiating from him. Your body reacted to his closeness.

"I knew you'd be at this pub today."

You turned around and looked at him, surprised. Frankie seemed embarrassed, but he continued.

"I met Sarah a while ago. We talked..."

He noticed a small frown between your eyebrows, "She didn't tell me anything..."

Frankie shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugged, "I begged her not to tell you. Listen, all this year you were the only thing that kept me alive. I wanted to be clean again, but I also wanted to be able to look you in the eye again. I'm sorry, hermosa... I'm sorry you went through all that with me. It was hell, and you tried so hard to save me."

You couldn't stop the tears that began to flow down your cheeks. You didn't even react when a warm hand touched your cheek and he wiped the tears away with his thumb.

"I still love you, hermosa." Frankie continued. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop. But I know I can't expect that from you, not after what I did."

"You hurt me, Frankie..." you sobbed, you saw the pain in his eyes, the same pain you still felt in your heart. "I wanted to save you, I wanted to save us... Maybe I wasn't strong enough?"

"No, it's not like that!" he shook his head, taking your face in both hands. "It wasn't a job for just one person. I understand that now. I'm sorry, I'm sorry I let you down so much."

You instinctively snuggled into his chest. Damn, you missed him so much this year. Almost every day you wondered what was happening to him, or you thought back to the times when everything was fine. There were days when you hated Frankie, when you resented yourself for always having him in your heart. But now you understood - you had to fall apart to understand what was truly important to you.

Frankie stroked your back, repeating silent apologies, and you felt as if all the tension that you had in your body was slowly leaving you.

"You okay?" he asked when you finally pulled away from him, wiping the last tears with your hand and probably completely smudging your mascara.

You nodded, "Yeah. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."

"Don't apologize, hermosa. You have nothing to apologize for."

There was silence for a moment. But it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, rather one where you were both trying to gather your thoughts. Finally, you were the first to speak.

"I'm so glad you managed to do all this. I'm really proud of you, Frankie. Now... Now your life will be different, better."

"You think so?" he asked, and you looked at him surprised. "I guess you didn't hear what I said earlier. I love you, and I don't know if I'll ever stop. But I know I can't force you to do anything. You listened to me, that's already a lot. Maybe that's all I deserve."

He must have already accepted it, except that he lost you, because before you could answer anything, he slowly moved towards his car. You watched him, feeling your heart pounding in your chest like crazy. You weren't even aware that you had opened your mouth, only the sound of your voice that cut through the silence brought you back to your senses.

"I'm finishing classes tomorrow after three. If you want to go for coffee, or..."

In an instant Frankie turned around "How about for lunch? You'll definitely be hungry, and you said you haven't been eating very well lately."

You smiled and nodded. "Lunch sounds good."

"Wonderful." He smiled too. That damn smile of his.

"So... Are we in touch?"

"Of course, hermosa."

With a slightly calmer heart you disappeared into the building, feeling that the smile didn't leave your face. 

Maybe a second chance really did exist? Maybe you too had a chance for a new beginning...

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[wlwsoccerfics]

Who are you?(StephCatleyXReader)

Warnings:head injury, memory loss, angst

Summary: you Hit your head during a Game and lose your memory. Having no idea who Steph is. So she tries everything to make you remember.

To say everyone was freaked out when you Hit the Goalpost cause you were pushed into it would have been an understatement. You didn't just went down but you also were unconcious. So they put you on a stretcher and walked into the Tunnels with you. Steph didn't finish the game, Renée told her to go with you. The Game wasn't important right now.

You were put in an ambulance actually cause it took you a few minutes to wake up again. At the hosptial they ran some Tests. You had a pretty Bad concussion and threw up three times already. Your head was pounding actually. Good news there was no brain bleed. Bad News. You lost your memory due to the head injury. Which the doctors and Steph, your wife found out like this.

"i am so glad you are awake, Babe!" Steph said.

"Babe? Who are you calling Babe? And who are you?" You asked. Steph looked shocked. Her head turned to the doctors alarmed.

"i am your wife Steph." She replied.

"i think i would know If i am married!" You answered. The doctor gently motioned for Steph ro leave to room with him so they could talk and for your wife to let go of her emotions cause she was crying already.

"what is going on? Why can't she remember me?" Your wife asked.

"usually those memories come back within 24 hours. It's rare that one is struggling to remember years or months but it can happen. If you have pictures and things that are important to both of you, show her. That usually helps!" He explained.

So Steph called Kyra to let the team know what was going on with you and asked her to grab the Box of Pictures, Concert Tickets and Love Letters you and Steph have written one another over the last 4 years.

Both Alessia and Kyra showed up at the hospital, handing over the box.

"she really doesn't remember you?" Kyra asked.

"not even a little bit." Steph said, wiping away some fresh tears. Alessia rubbed her back gently.

"i am sorry Steph, but she is gonna remember you." Alessia told her.

"thanks, i will try to show her those things now." She looked at the Box and walked back into your hospital room. While Kyra and Less were waiting in the waiting area of the Hospital.

"so you really are my wife." You spoke out after looking at all the pictures. You took an extra long look at the wedding Pictures.

"i am!" Steph told you, offering you a small smile but the hint of pain still visible.

"why don't i remember anything?" You asked her and she explained to you how you had hit your head on the Goalpost during the game. You two spent hours of talking and looking at the things in the Box and you actually ended up remembering it all. Much to everyones relief. Especially your wifes.

Cuddles were in order, so were kisses before you fell asleep in her arms. You were allowed to leave the next day but it took you two months to get back to playing in a game.