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jlheon · 8 months ago

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౨ৎ — who ru ? (lhs)

pairing. situationship! lee heeseung x fem! reader synopsis. enha try to figure you out genre. fluff & est. relationship at end wc. 2069 notes. ft. enhypen library.

none of heeseung’s members knew your name.

which was ironic since they saw you nearly every day off they had. usually passing by heeseung’s slightly ajar door and taking a double take after seeing a female figure, then realizing it's just you, and wondering if you were heeseung's girl-friend or girlfriend.

they had grown used to your presence in the almost six months of you constantly around their home. yet nobody could ever figure out your name and who you were.

despite running into you in the dorms multiple times none of the six had ever muttered anything more than a mere ‘hi’ or ‘sorry’ while passing.

they always saw you around the dorms at least two times a week. though never once did they recall seeing you enter or leave. their eldest never brought you up, feeding into the idea you were some imaginary person.

heeseung was good at everything, including sneaking you in and out.

all of them being scared to say anything to you. acting like your identity was classified when they could just ask heeseung or you who you were.

but of course, riki loved to make anything and everything into a competition.

after betting with his hyungs’ on who could figure out your name first, he spotted you in the house, residing in heeseung’s lap while he did some work on his computer. face buried in his neck while he typed away.

riki camped out in the bathroom, with the door open, pretending to be cleaning the mirror. scrubbing the same corner repeatedly for almost ten minutes, waiting for you to use the bathroom. surely you would need to get up soon.

when he concluded that he couldn’t clean the mirror forever, he picked up his toothbrush and brushed his teeth.

after brushing his teeth for a solid three minutes his plan was finally set into action.

“hi riki,” you knocked on the open door. “how long do you need to brush your teeth for?”

“howdoyouknowmyname-” he spit out the toothpaste in shock.

“riki, i’m here all the time,” you replied. “and you’re also a famous idol.”

“oh yeah..” he wiped his face with a towel from the counter. “why don’t i know your name though.”

“you’ve never asked,” you shrugged your shoulders at the younger boy covered in toothpaste. “do you mind if i wash my face, i think you’ve brushed your teeth thoroughly enough.”

“yeah of course,” riki set his toothbrush back in its holder and moved towards the door.

“you missed a spot by the way,” pointing to your chin to show where the toothpaste was left on him, lightly shutting the door.

riki’s plan had failed.

the next to try and talk to you was jake.

he was confident that he could get your name out if you. maybe he’d even be good enough to figure out if you were heeseung’s girlfriend or not.

it was the day after riki had run into you in the bathroom. since it was their break before the long comeback season jake knew that you would probably be sleeping over. giving him the perfect opportunity to ask heeseung and you if you both wanted to eat ramen with him.

once the time on his phone read 11:15 he knocked on heeseung’s door.

“come in,”

“hi,” jake opened the door. “i was wondering if you wanted ramen, her too..”

this was perfect. surely heeseung would call you by name when he asked if you were hungry. everyone would owe him dinner for the week.

you and heeseung were on his bed. you cuddled up into his side while you both watched tiktoks on his phone.

“baby are you hungry?” heeseung leaned down next to your ear.

baby was not your name. jake frowned.

“no i’m okay hee,” you mumbled. “you can go eat though.”

he kissed your forehead before getting up from his bed to follow jake to the kitchen.

jake’s plan had also failed, but the fact heeseung had called you a pet name gave him some idea that you weren't just a friend.

the uprise of interactions with the members confused you. they went from running away from you and avoiding looking at you every time you were within six feet of them to constantly seeking you and heeseung out. though it relieved you in a way since you were convinced that heeseung had strictly told them to act as if you didn't exist in the months you had spent together.

you and heeseung were in fact not an item, even though you both wished you were. you've known him since his nerdy bowl cut days in middle school, you weren't close before but after running into you years later that changed.

you knew that he had become an idol, it was hard not to notice when you saw his face on ads. never listening to his group but being able to recognize him if you were asked.

one day when you were on shift, at your then job as a barista at a small place. you had recognized him as you took his order. you didn't want to sound like an obsessed fan if he didn't remember you, so you simply bit your tongue the entire time. he had decided to tip you for bringing him his drink, which made you even more on edge when he left a stray napkin on his table with his number.

after that incident it was clear he recognized you from school, which was more worrying than relieving as he started to show up to your work even more.

eventually, his visiting you at work was not ideal anymore as he stuck out like a sore thumb with how tall he was paired with the black mask and sunglasses he never dared to take off.

alas, he had asked you to hangout somewhere else. now you no longer worked at that cafe and spent all of your free time off from classes being snuck into a kpop boy-group dorm to hang out with a boy who acted like your boyfriend but wasn't. awesome!

after your first encounters with riki and jake everyone followed after.

jay came in to ask if you had any allergies because he was making some lunch, again heeseung addressed you as anything but your real name.

two days later sunoo had sat down next to you on the living room couch and offered you a face mask. you nodded and you guys spent an hour together as heeseung and jay were gone filming for a variety show. right as sunoo was finally confident you guys were casual enough to ask you for your name heeseung walked in.

you jumped up from the couch making your way over and throwing yourself at him. holding onto him like a koala when he picked you up. he greeted sunoo, and brought you all the way to his room. shutting the door behind him.

you didn’t even get the chance to thank sunoo for hanging out with you.

within the same hour jungwon had barged into heeseung’s room, the door banging against the wall.

“jungwon what the hell!” heeseung scolded, though keeping his voice at a whisper. “don’t you know to knock?”

“this is me exercising my leader privileges,” jungwon crossed his arms and fixed his posture.

“you could have woken her up..” heeseung stroked your hair, as you laid passed out on his chest.

“woken who up?” jungwon said mischievously, heeseung had to say your name now.

“don’t act dumb, you can literally see her sleeping.” heeseung deadpanned.

you started to shuffle in your sleep, beginning to wake up.

“hee?” you grumbled.

“it’s nothing, baby,” he answered. “just go back to sleep.”

heeseung sent jungwon a glare, shooing him out of the room. so much privacy for having only single room.

right when you thought it was over, it was finally sunghoon’s turn to figure you out. he contemplated creating a list of names that you kind of looked like and just shouting them throughout the house until you answered to one.

but after hearing jungwon explain how heeseung looked like he was about to chase him out of the dorm onto the street after he woke you up, sunghoon decided against his original idea.

he was sat on his bed for almost an hour thinking about what he could do.

he concluded he should just be straightforward and ask you already. why hadn’t anyone else just asked you?

he let out a horrendous evil laugh that sunoo had given him a weird look for as sunghoon thought about how his plan was foolproof. he was about to be picking dinner every night for everyone.

sunghoon created a list in his head from what he gathered from all the other boys' failed attempts :

knock LIGHTLY on the door

make sure he is not interrupting anything

ask you NOT heeseung

get that free dinner

he waited for everyone to get to their rooms after dinner to make his way to the eldest’s room. you surely couldn’t have possibly fallen asleep yet as the sun had only just set. using his right hand, he softly knocked on the door. heeseung opened the door enough to show you sitting at his desk.

“hoon?” heeseung questioned.

“i have a question.” sunghoon said firmly, keeping his chin up high, making himself look cocky in the process.

“shoot,” heeseung replied dryly, yawning at the end of his sentence.

“not for you,” sunghoon recalled the list floating around in his head, he pointed at you. “for her.”

overhearing their exchange, you took your attention away from the game you were playing on heeseung’s computer and spun the chair towards sunghoon. heeseung had no choice but to move aside and let the boy in as you had already taken note of his presence.

“what’s your name? oh, and are you heeseung’s girlfriend?” he smiled, fist-bumping himself in his head as he finally did what the others couldn’t.

“i’m ____,” you grinned, finally happy someone had asked you directly like you and heeseung were hoping for. “i don’t know about the girlfriend part though.”

“____ i swear i was just about to talk to you about that soon-”

“i’m kidding hee!” you giggled. “i don’t understand why it took you guys so long, i’m always here.”

“i don’t know either,” heeseung agreed.

“yeah right. you strictly told us not to look at her the first time jake caught her inside the dorm,” jay said as he walked into the room.

one by one the rest of the group filtered into the room. sunghoon gives a whole speech about how he is truly the smartest and the first thing he wants for dinner is steak. which was nothing different from the usual but he was happy that he got to decide. the whole group talked for a few hours in heeseung’s bedroom.

once heeseung saw you yawn he quickly got up and ushered all the guys to get out as you were tired. while he was busy forcing riki to leave you collapsed on his bed and waited for him to join you.

“so girlfriend huh?” you teased as he climbed into the empty spot next to you.

he scratched the back of his head with a nervous laugh before turning off the lamp on his bedside table. when the lights were off and you could barely make out each other's faces in the dark he spoke up.

“can i be your boyfriend?” he asked, his voice dripping with gentleness. he snuck an arm under your head and pulled you towards his chest.

“i mean i guess so,” you joked, causing heeseung to tickle your sides.

you squirmed in his grip trying to bite him until he finally gave it a rest.

you tilted your head up towards his trying to find his lips to give him a short kiss. ultimately missing due to the darkness and kissing his chin instead. the both of you giggled. heeseung then used his free hand to trace around your face to find your lips, bringing his head down to finally connect your lips to his.

the last thing you remembered before drifting off was the sound of heeseung lulling you to sleep with a song he had been working on for their upcoming album.

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azsazz · 3 months ago

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Shots & Spins

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Req from @kristijenner19: I saw you were thinking about hockey!AZ because same. How about a fic where she's a figure skater and they're trying to teach each other their respective sports. Imagine poor Az trying to do a spin/jump/twizzle and a reader who can barely ever make a shot into a goal

Bonus points if they switch their skates and have to re-learn how to skate with the new blade

Warnings: Mild panic attack, mentions of readers injury (torn ACL), trauma from coaches (verbal) mentioned.

Word Count: 3088

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown

HOCKEY SZN SOON MY LOVES 💙💙

Notes: I swear I meant to make this cuter but of course, I had to give it some angst 😅

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“What is this?” You question. You’re probably being rude, with your nose scrunched in disgust. With the way you’re holding the pair of skates as far away from your body as possible, you’re pretty sure you look like the biggest bitch on all of campus. But for the life of you, you can’t figure out why Azriel has handed you hockey skates.

“They’re skates,” Azriel answers. You rip your glare from the offending skates at his obvious response. Your heart stumbles in your chest at the sight of his pink lips twitching, begging to reveal that grin he spends most of his time expertly hiding.

You don’t even realize you’re leaning closer in anticipation, so eager to see that smile until the hitch of his breath snaps you back to consciousness.

You rock back on your heels so quickly you nearly tumble over. Would tumble over if it weren’t for Azriel’s quick reflexes, his large hands enveloping your waist and steadying you back on your feet.

“Thanks,” you reply flatly, dipping your chin to the ground to hide your flaming cheeks. There’s not an ounce of amusement in your body.

“You’re welcome.” You don’t like the smugness in his tone or the way he’s playing with you. Tilting your face back up, you muster all the annoyance lancing through your veins at his retort, shooting him the nastiest glare.

“That’s not what I meant, Az, and you know it. Why am I holding a pair of hockey skates?”

Azriel sits on the bench beside the empty arena, and you want to pout. Why would you want to spend any more time at the rink than you already do? You’re bone-fucking-tired and your knee is feeling stiff. You overdid it in practice this week, trying to get back into the shape you were in before the time you’d been forced to take off, and it’s hitting you hard. All you really want to do is crawl home, roll out your muscles, and dive into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

When you don’t join Azriel, he says, with a humor you don’t feel, “Don’t tell me you forgot about our little bet. Or how you so gracefully lost it.”

Of course you hadn’t forgotten. Who could forget losing at something as simple as a race across the arena? Afterwards, you tried to blame it on the differences in the ice, how it was colder and harder than you were used to, as it was prepared for the hockey team’s game later that weekend.

A rookie mistake, honestly. One that you’ve been kicking yourself over up until this very moment. Well, if you could kick with your injured leg, that is, you’d be doing just that.

You grind your teeth as a memory rises to the forefront of your mind. Your coach’s voice rings in your head, shrill and reprimanding. Why would you take such foolish chances? You need to get your head in your sport or you’re never going to make it on the Olympic team, let alone the University team.

Shame presses down on you, and your eyes prick at the criticism you should be used to by now. Your private coach from your time before Velaris University, Amarantha, had been very creative with her insults, always coming up with comments worse and harsher to cut down any semblance of confidence you had in your sport.

You bet she’s thrilled that you won’t be back in her presence until you’re healed enough. If you heal enough to relearn the very trick that took you out of the running for the Olympic team in the first place.

It must be a thing, coaches insulting their prodigies. You glance at Azriel from the corner of your eye and wonder if his coach is the same way. If Rhys is brutal with his teammates.

And you hate losing. It was Azriel who you wished forgotten about the bet you’d so stupidly agreed to, but here he is, wearing the same look that got you into this position in the first place.

You take your time studying him as you mull over how to get out of this. Azriel’s broad shoulders take up the space of two people, and his deep, dark hair falls over his brow, growing out into the perfect flow all the players seem to be sporting right now. You wonder if it’s superstition or they actually like the look. His thick lashes sweep as he bats them, and your cheeks take on a pink hue as he pretends to preen under your attention.

“Look,” he all but sighs, giving up his act. He leans back, reaching over to grab something out of sight. When Azriel rightens himself, he holds a pair of figure skates, a sheepish smile on his face. The apples of his cheeks mottle with pink. “I got myself figure skates, so we can both look like fools out there. Together.”

Fuck. The sentiment makes your throat tighten. He doesn’t have to be so damn thoughtful, you’re hardly even friends for Mother’s sake.

“Fine,” you manage when you can speak again. You plop onto the bench beside him. Your knee throbs dully in protest, but it’s nothing you haven’t been able to smother before. You’ve worked through worse conditions than hockey prepped ice, have skated in casts and aches so deep you weren’t sure you’d be able to compete at all if it weren’t for your raw love for the sport and your brutal stubbornness, holding yourself to the highest of standards.

And it’s not like you’re going to be doing your usual tricks. No, that’s all Azriel. All you have to manage is a few forward spirals, twizzles, and perhaps an axel just to show off a little, because there’s no way he’ll be able to recreate all of that in one go.

You just hope your knee stays steady for a few more hours.

The both of you lace your shoes in silence. The hockey skates are so different from your figure skates, you note. The blade is much thicker than you’re used to, more curved too. The boots are shorter, and you grimace at the lack of ankle support.

Not to mention you’re not entirely sure how well you’ll be able to stop without your toe pick.

Azriel leads you to the ice. You step on tentatively, giving the new skates a test. They have a lot more give than you’re used to. They’re not as snug, but easy enough to navigate. Muscle memory kicks in and after a few sluggish runs up and down the ice, you think you’ve gotten the hang of it.

The rest of this bet should be a breeze, especially compared to how Azriel is faring.

His face is contorted with a concentrated frown. He looks stiff as a fucking board, which make you giggle and him complain about. “How the hell do you wear these things? I can barely even move my ankles!”

“Practice makes perfect, young Padawon,” you tease, testing how best to shift your weight on the new blades. The pressure on your knee isn’t terrible, thanks to the looseness of the hockey skates.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azriel waves you off. He trails behind you at a slower rate, focused on getting used to the stiffness of the figure skates on his feet. “Just wait until we scrimmage.”

Ugh, no thanks. This is just perfect for you, the both of you out on the open ice, all alone. You don’t want to ruin this peaceful bliss by bringing your competitive personalities into it.

“I knew if we raced under different conditions I’d have won!” You exclaim, zipping past Azriel again, showing off. He glares playfully, but you’re much too busy admiring your skates to notice the way he’s tucked his lip between his teeth, hiding a satisfied grin.

His toe pick digs into the ice, grinding down as he gets a feeling for the foreign piece, but his eyes stay glued on you.

“Ready for a stick and gloves already, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you throw a smirk back in his direction, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking a brow. “You ready for twizzling?”

“Twizzlers?”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke, but your heart still skips at his wry smile. It’s more than cute. You push off your blade, moving closer to him.

Which is fine, until you try to use your toe pick to stop, only for the realization to hit that there isn’t one on these skates.

You go barreling into Azriel, who catches you in his arms. Your motion throws him off balance and before you even have the chance to squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself, you’re both falling to the ice.

Azriel hits with a grunt that reverberates through your bones. You’d think that Azriel breaking your landing would be less painful than it is, but with the way the muscle is packed on his body, he’s just as hard as the ice that’s no longer beneath your feet.

“Sorry,” you cringe. It comes out breathless and embarrassment flushes your cheeks, but you’re frozen to your spot and all too aware of how his large, warm hands are wrapped firmly around your waist.

“No worries.” Your lashes flutter as his breathy whisper caresses your face. He’s probably just winded, that’s why he sounds like that. Yes, that’s exactly what it is. “Didn’t think to remind you how to stop.”

“I know how to stop,” you argue, but there’s none of your usual fire tainting the words. You can’t even muster one of your famous glares that you reserve for the normally broody hockey player. You break eye contact as the humiliation begins creeping in. You scratch your nail distractedly down the waffled fabric of his olive colored henley. “I just…forgot, I guess.”

The hitching of his breath in his chest shifts your body and you jolt, the situation slamming into you like a truck.

You scramble off Azriel, grimacing at the sound of your blades clinking against his. His grip loosens, hands falling away as you slip to the ice beside him.

You shoot to your knees, then not-so-carefully climb to your feet. Azriel holds his hands out from where he’s still lying on the ground, like he’s more than ready to catch you again should you fall.

You’re positive the heat of your cheeks could melt the entire arena’s ice right now. You need to get the fuck out of here before you embarrass yourself further. You need to never show your face around here again. You’ve already transferred schools once, what’s one more time?

Azriel calls your name, but you hardly hear him over your racing thoughts. If the sheer embarrassment wasn’t enough, Coach Weaver’s voice now fills the rest of your head, screeching about your recklessness and how you could’ve injured yourself—

He’s quicker than you thought, or you’ve been trapped in your mortified headspace for too long because Azriel’s on his feet, towering over you and pulling you into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” your voice trembles and his hands tighten around you. He lets you bury your face into his chest and pretends not to notice the tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. You’re fucking trembling, and his heart is pounding just as hard.

This is all his fault.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breathe,” he tries to console. He looks around frantically, like one of the sports therapist students or coaches might be walking past the rinks this late at night. There’s no soul in the building besides the both of you, everyone resting for their busy weekends of competitions and away hockey games. “Please.”

You focus on his words, how he guides you, three seconds in, three seconds out. You focus on the soothing patterns he’s drawing down your back, focus on the beating of his heart and latch onto his scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.

“Sorry,” you croak when you finally manage to calm yourself and slide a step back. Your gaze sits pointedly on the ice. You don’t want him to see you like this, a woman who’s about to fucking crumble.

“Don’t be,” Azriel says softly. His hand finds your face, and as much as you don’t want him to, he lifts your chin. You don’t fight it, emotionally exhausted. You should have asked for a raincheck, but you can admit to the fact that Azriel’s gentle touch is a comfort that you can’t help but lean into.

Sad, hazel eyes meet yours. They’re more golden brown than green, a forest of hues backlit by a burst of gold. Your breath hitches as he drags a thumb softly across your lips. They part, even though you don’t mean them to, and the whisper of breath that leaves you passes over his hand, crawls up his arm, and sends shivers down his spine.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure you can hold yourself together enough to answer his question without completely melting into a puddle at his feet.

Your silence must be answer enough. Azriel takes both of your hands in his own and guides you back toward the bench where you left your shoes. His grip is reassuring, and you’re so tired that you don’t even have it in yourself to sling a witty remark his way.

For what might be the first time in your life, you allow yourself to be taken care of.

You can’t even muster a chuckle at the way he stumbles over the toe pick on his way off the ice, or the way you’re waddling in these skates. You feel anything but graceful and strong right now, but with Azriel’s hand in yours, it’s not as off-putting as you feared it might be.

“Sit,” he says, keeping his fingers clasped around yours as you heed his command. It brings you eye-level to his hands, puckered and pink and scarred to hell. They’re beautiful in every way. He embraces his story, and it’s an incredible strength, one you’re much too terrified of attempting to recreate.

“Azriel, no,” you protest, jolting forward when he lowers himself to his knees before you. You plant your hands on his shoulders, ready to force him away because you’re more than capable of taking your own skates off.

He catches your wrists, and you didn’t think his eyes could soften any more, but they do, and you melt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of this for you.”

You try to swallow past the knot in your throat to thank him but are unable to. Instead, you nod and reluctantly sit back.

Azriel’s gentle with his movements, like you’re a wild doe that he’s helping free from a snare. He unties the tight knots, and your heart pinches when he struggles for a moment. You wouldn’t notice if you weren’t watching so intently, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Like he knows you need to see this.

You carefully keep your mind from wandering into how good he looks like this before you.

He slips the first skate off, and you stretch your toes. It’s a reflex. Azriel smiles, peeking up at you just in time to catch your blush. His gaze ducks away before you become embarrassed, setting your foot down and holding your other ankle, lifting to get to work.

You hiss softly at the ache in your knee.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laces his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“No, no,” you cringe a little at the lingering sting. “It’s nothing.”

“Sweetheart.” Azriel says sternly. Seriously. “That reaction wasn’t nothing. What’s wrong?”

You sigh, defeated in more ways than one. You don’t want to admit that the injury that threw your entire career off-kilter is acting up again. You’d rather not have anyone know.

Perhaps Azriel is different. Or, maybe he’s forcing you, because the gold in his eyes is intense, pinning you to your spot. His mouth is set in a straight, firm line. He looks like he means fucking business.

You avert your gaze. You’ve never admitted defeat like this, but if Azriel can wear his scars so proudly, maybe you can too.

“I tore my ACL a few months ago.” You admit, sniffling. You can feel the shock in Azriel’s gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. He’s the first person at this school outside of your coach who’s hearing it. You’ve never been so vulnerable, especially with someone you hardly know. You press on nonetheless. “It’s been fine up until now.” A white lie. “But it’s been a little sore since I started practicing my jumps again.”

“How many months is ‘a few’?” He questions, and he’s not going to like the answer, so you opt for brushing over it.

“I’ll go back to seeing my therapist,” you offer instead, but even you’re not too sure how much truth your words hold.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Azriel says, and you don’t want his sympathy, but you’re too exhausted for your usual anger to stir to life. “You need to take care of yourself, before it gets any worse.”

His sentiment has your nose stinging, eyes prickling once again. What the fuck is wrong with you these days? Get it together, girl. You can cry in your own room, not in front of the hot boy who’s helping you with your godsdamned shoes.

You drag your gaze back to his. “I will.” You think.

He studies you for a moment before nodding, accepting your answer whether he believes it or not. You don’t have it in yourself to care right now. No, you just want to be back in the safety of your dorm.

Azriel is even more careful removing this skate and helping you slip into your shoes. He makes quick work of his own, and while his head is down, you admire his stature. Broad shoulders and chest that tapers into a tight waist, an ass for days.

You’re not done drooling over him when he stands, offering you a hand.

You slip your palm into his, ignoring the electricity that zips down your arm. You’re hyperaware of him by your side, and it’s only when he’s absolutely sure that you’re steady on your feet that he drops your hand.

You try not to feel too disappointed at the loss.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” Azriel offers, and you trail him from the arena, your heart feeling a bit fuller with the nickname.

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Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #hockey!bat boys #hockey!azriel #acotar hockey au #acotar au #azriel au

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djarincore · 1 year ago

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i picture you when you are all alone

TAGS: smut, just a man thinkin' about his lovely girlfriend, unedited I'm tired, minors I'm begging you DNI, WC: 595

A/N: thank you to sleep token for fueling me. I think about this line and song too much <333

PART 2

To say Simon thought about you often when he was away would be an understatement—he thought of you always.

He thought of the sweet, sweet girl—his girl—who was waiting for him to come home. Who would take him in with open arms. The girl who loved him so deeply, despite how fucked up and flawed he was.

And when he closed his eyes at night—in a tiny bunk, bruised and battered, thousands of miles away from home—he thought of you, bare and splayed out on your shared bed. So perfect and all his.

You'd be needy, desperate. It's been too many nights alone, without his cock filling you properly. Your fingers would dance over the hem of your panties, thighs rubbing together as you debated on whether or not to touch yourself. It wouldn't be the same, of course. Nothing would satisfy you the way Simon could.

You'd pull your lower lip between your teeth and glance to his side of the bed. It's cold and empty; his scent still lingers on the pillow. You'd take the pillow in your arms and inhale deeply, gripping the cool fabric, pretending it was his shirt. You'd pretend the soft cushion was hard muscle beneath your fingertips.

One hand would slip into your panties. When your finger brushes against your clit, you whimper. It really was too long since you last felt him. You miss his calloused hands, roughly tracing your figure.

If he were there, he'd start at your neck, smirking at the way you swallow when his thumb traces your throat. Then, he'd path his way down your breast, playing with your nipples until you were whining for something more. He'd move on soon, following the curves of your body, until finally ending on your cunt.

Your fingers would work pathetically, trying to replicate his movements, but even they aren't enough. You would try slipping one finger into your dripping pussy, then two, pushing your fingers slowly and working towards a climax.

Two of your fingers don't work, though. They're not as thick or long as his. They don't reach in you the same way. Your fingers can't press that spongy spot inside you that makes your toes curl and back arch.

Your fingers grip his pillow in frustration and your legs spread wider. Another, you think. And a third finger forces its way into your tight cunt. Still, nowhere near what he could do for you.

You'd stay like that—riding your own fingers, wishing it were him—until you met the crest of your pleasure. Your mouth would drop open as your breath picked up. Your cunt would pulse around your fingers, greedily trying to suck them back in. And you'd come with his name on your lips.

He thought of you in bed, panting. The rise and fall of your chest. Your fingers, covered in your release, slip from your panties.

He let out a breath. God, he wanted to taste you. He wished it was him in that bed with you—his fingers, his cock, all bringing you over the edge over and over again.

When his burner phone began to ring in his pocket, a knowing smirk crossed his face. When he dug the phone out and answered, without having to look at the caller ID, it was you on the other end.

“Simon?” Your voice was quiet, almost breathless. It was early where you were.

“Yes, love?”

He could hear you shift and wet your lips. “I had a dream about you…”

“Really?” He chuckled, “Because I was just thinkin’ about you too.”

#ghost x reader smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost x reader #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #ghost imagine #ghost scenario #simon riley x you

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innerfare · 3 months ago

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Blue Balls - Ace: Part 2

Summary: Ace takes care of his blue balls; text below the cut. If you haven't already, read Part 1 here!

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Afab!Reader

Genre: smut

CW: penetrative sex, dirty talk

Word Count: 1,255

———

Ace couldn’t believe his rotten luck.

Thatch had you on deck that entire night handling something, and just before dawn, Pops sent Ace out on a mission to a nearby island. It had all happened so quickly and he’d barely had the chance to tell you goodbye and punch Marco in the arm for that knowing, teasing look on his face before he was off.

When he returned, it was just past three in the morning, and he was absolutely miserable, with a hole in his stomach and a throbbing, aching problem between his legs. He ground his teeth together to keep from groaning as he climbed onto the ship.

Rotten luck, indeed.

He’d had a real rough go of things, not just because he had a serious case of blue balls but because that mission Pops had sent him on had proven to be the sort of thing that only the second division commander could really take care of.

He normally enjoyed that sort of thing, and he’d had a few moments that he relished, but ultimately, his mind was on you and the fact he hadn’t told Thatch to go fuck himself that night.

Marco met him on deck with a plate of food that Ace tucked into as soon as he dropped his things. As he bit into two rice balls at once, he gave the deck of the Moby Dick a once over. It was deserted, most of the crew asleep in their hammocks for the night.

“She wanted to wait up for you,” Marco said with a knowing look, "but I sent her to bed. Thatch has been running her ragged, poor thing.”

Ace grunted with a mouthful of food, Marco’s phrasing conjuring images in his head that he knew he should have been ashamed of. But he wasn’t ashamed. He was tired and hungry, and he needed you.

“You should let her sleep. She’s in for another long day tomorrow.” Marco chuckled and clapped Ace on the shoulder. “But if you want to keep her awake, I’m guessing you could bribe Thatch with some of that sake you brought back.”

Ace just nodded and headed inside.

Exhausted, he paused outside the door and pressed his forehead into it. His blood was absolutely boiling in his veins, and he knew he needed to calm down some before coming on to you, but he wasn’t sure how to do that.

A sound filtered through the door, and Ace’s ears twitched.

No way.

He leaned in closer and held his breath to listen. Sure enough, he heard a small, wanton moan come from inside his cabin.

Ace’s heart jumped in his chest. All thoughts of remaining calm and slipping quietly into bed left his mind. He whipped open the door. He intended to slip inside smoothly, but he ended up stumbling, accidentally slamming the door shut behind him.

You gasped, sitting up straight in bed. You squinted in the dark, only just making out a tall, broad figure in a cowboy hat. “Ace?”

“Did you really get started without me?” Ace stepped out of his boots, almost tripping he was in such a rush. “You knew I was coming home tonight.”

“I started thinking you got delayed and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.” You fell back on the pillows, enveloped in the scent of him once more. You were naked under the covers with your hand still between your legs, where you had been rubbing furiously at your clit in a pathetic attempt to get off on your own.

“I’m here now.” He shoved his shorts down and stepped out of those, too; he never wore anything underneath. He practically dove into bed, struggling to get the covers off your body.

He felt your lips on his shoulder.

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe under the weight of your boyfriend, but you didn’t dare complain as the two of you struggled to get the covers out from between you. His crushing weight on top of you was the best feeling in the world.

Well, one of the best feelings in the world.

“How many times did you cum?” He asked, finally peeling back the covers. He pressed his naked body into yours and groaned. “How many times did you cum without me?”

“You interrupted before I could finish,” you told him. You sighed in relief at the feel of his chest against yours. Your hands went straight to his black locks, but they didn’t stay there for very long. You ran them down his face and neck, squeezed his shoulders, and grabbed hold of his muscular biceps.

“What about last night?” He pushed your head to the side and went to work on your neck, kissing and sucking to his heart’s content, biting so hard you mewled in pain. “How many times did you cum last night?”

“None.”

“And the night before?”

You hesitated, but answered honestly. “Once.”

He didn’t run his fingers up and down your slit. He didn’t tongue fuck you to make sure you were good and ready. Hell, he didn’t even ask you to finish the blowjob you’d been giving him before the two of you were separated. He just aligned his cock with your slick entrance.

“Need this so bad,” he moaned into your shoulder. “I have the worst blue balls of my life right now. Hurts so bad.”

“You say that every time.”

“It hurts every time.” He pushed the head of his cock into your entrance and let out a loud groan as if nobody could hear. “Oh, that feels so good.” He pushed another inch in. “Tell me how you came the other night, sweetheart. Tell me all about it.”

“I was thinking about that time you went down on me on deck,” you confessed. “When the others were all drinking in town.”

Ace hummed in encouragement, pushing another inch in. His mouth watered and his abdominal muscles spasmed at the feel of your warmth encasing him bit by bit.

You whined at the stretch but kept on. “I rode your pillow like it was your thigh. It was so good.” Another inch, another whine. “I’m pretty sure Marco heard. He knocked on the door right after I came to check on me.”

That bastard, Ace thought to himself.

He couldn’t stop himself. He bottomed out inside you, pushing your thighs apart for better access. He rolled his hips against yours, fucking you like a maniac, the two of you panting and moaning.

He was a complete mess, a sheen of sweat appearing on his brow line as he fucked you. He panted and whimpered, his rhythm far less consistent than usual. He rutted into you like he'd never done it before, like he'd never even experienced pleasure before.

Ace at least had the sense to thumb your clit while he fucked you, but he couldn’t think of anything beyond that. He tried desperately to hold off until you came.

The second he felt your walls tighten around him and your nails dig deeper into his back, he released all of the tension he’d been carrying around with him, filling you with his cum. He gave another few deep strokes before collapsing on top of you.

“So tired,” he muttered into your hair, still inside of you.

You rubbed the back of his neck. “Go to sleep, then. We can catch up in the morning.”

Ace didn’t need to be told twice. He kissed you one final time and was out like a light.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#Portgas D. Ace x Afab!Reader #one piece #ace smut #portgas d ace smut #portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader #whitebeard pirates #marco the phoenix #one piece smut

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freakyformula · 1 month ago

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Knight in shining armor

Summary: Readers car breaks down on the road and her friend Max picks her up.

Writers comment: Sorry for the inactivity, I had one of my wisdom teeth pulled and developed dry socket lol rip

Warnings: Some fluff

Word count: 2k

You had spent the last week away for a holiday with your family. You lived in Monaco while your family still resided in your home country. You had barely graduated college when you decided to work abroad. Living away from your family was tough, but the week after you moved in, as you walked home, you stopped by the harbour and that's where you met him. Max Verstappen. He was handsome and had the finest smile you'd ever seen. Stating that you fell for him then and there would be an overstatement but you felt something in your heart.

You thought you recognised his face but couldn't place him. When he laid his eyes on you, on the other hand, he stopped in his tracks and studied you for a moment. Then, he walked up to you and introduced himself. And the rest was history, you instantly hit it off as friends. Max was special, you two had something that you hadn't ever felt with anyone else. When he was home from his busy job in Formula 1, you would often spend time together, even sleeping at each other's apartments, although not in the same bed. You lived in the same district as him, Fontveille, only a couple of buildings apart.

"Yeah, yeah, Max! I'll be at your place in about an hour." You laugh as you hear Max's worried voice on the other end of the phone.

"Please drive carefully." He pleads.

He'd insisted on picking you up from the airport or ordering an Uber but you politely declined.

As you grab your bags, you walk straight to the car rental. You glanced at the cars available and decided on a small black Audi. You had to admit that you were tired. The long flight had taken its toll, and you started to regret insisting on driving home but you felt like you had to prove to Max that you could take care of yourself.

You pay for the car and drag your heavy bags out. Getting them into the small car was a task itself but you managed, somehow. As you started your 20-minute drive you felt the fatigue in your body. When you made it onto the highway you felt relieved, because you were one step closer to home and Max.

You'd barely made it halfway when the car started to lose power, leaving you stranded at the edge of the highly trafficked highway. "Fuck… What do I do.." You panicked, you didn't have any numbers saved and didn't know French that well yet so calling for a tow was out of the question. You didn't really care about the car at this point, but rather about how you were supposed to make it home safely. You had to think for a few minutes, listing your options in your head. Then, as if by a miracle, the phone called. Max. Shit, what was she going to say, that she was a damsel in distress and she was stuck on the highway?

"Hi, Max." You said.

"Hi lieverd, are you home soon? I was getting worried."

"Ummm, so, I'm kinda stuck on the highway… The damn car broke down. But I'm figuring it out, I promise!" You blurt the last part out. Silence. You waited for a reply for what felt like a minute. You hear the sound of keys clinging. "I'm on my way. Y/N, please for the love of god, stay in the car and turn your location on." Max quickly and shortly replies before he hangs up.

"I…" You start before you realise that he ended the call. You did as he'd told you and looked around. The cars drove past at such fast and close proximity.

This was Max in a nutshell, always there, having all of the solutions to the world's problems up his sleeve. You felt so pathetic at the fact that you couldn't even make your way home by yourself.

15 minutes later, you see a car that you quickly identify as Max's car speed by on the other side of the highway. He quickly makes his way to your lane and parks his car behind yours.

He walks up to your broken-down car, minding the traffic. "Need a ride?" He teases.

"Shut up!" You step out, giving his side a nudge. You open the trunk where the bags were, and Max drags them to his car, placing them in the back with care.

You lock the Audi and step into Max's luxurious and grand Aston Martin. It smells like him.

"Ready to go?" Max asks and grabs the wheel.

You take his hand into yours and stare into his eyes as he turns to look at you in confusion.

"Thank you, for this." You thank him, making him huff.

"Of course Y/N, I told you I should have picked you up. I want to spend all the time I can with you before the next race weekend." You smile at him and you start the drive to Monaco and Fontveille. The whole way home, he held your hand tightly, as if he was scared to lose you. The gesture made your heart even warmer than it already was.

Max parks neatly and effortlessly in his parking house and carries your bags out, insisting on handling them. You walk behind him like a puppy, letting him lead you to his apartment.

As you walk in, you instantly toss your shoes and crash on his sofa, with him following, laying down beside you.

"Wanna order some food?" You whisper, looking at him.

"Someone's hungry, I see. What do you want, princess?"

"Something really unhealthy, preferably. Pizza, maybe?"

And with that, you ordered your food with Max, playfully arguing whether pineapple was acceptable to put on pizza.

"Do you want to do something in particular tonight, schat?"

"Anything that includes you sounds good to me." You smile at him.

"Does snuggles sound good to you? You look tired." Max says.

You nod as an answer, as you switch on the TV, leaving on the random rom-com in the background. You grab a blanket that was left on the sofa and lie down with your head in Max's lap. You both sigh contently. He slowly rubs your head, giving you a relaxing head massage.

You loved his attention to your needs, he had always treated you with respect under this last year that you'd known each other. Max was always extremely clingy with you, holding your hand, and reminding you how much he likes spending time with you. You didn't think anything of it at the time but lately you started noticing how caring he actually was. He wasn't like this with anyone else of the girls from your mutual friend group either.

As you were thinking about the signs Max gave you, he must have noticed how distant you were because he took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

"You okay?" He asks with concern in his voice.

"Yes, I am, Max." You chuckled and gave him a squeeze back.

"How was your holiday? Tell me everything." Max asks of you.

As you tell him all of the gossip and details he starts to rub your hands, creeping up your arms. And then, he pulls you into his arms, leaving a quick kiss on the top of your head.

You pulled away. You weren't against the affection, but you needed some clarity. Max was like a closed book when it came to his feelings and emotions, rarely talking about what he felt, regardless of whether it was positive or negative.

You quickly gather your thoughts and Max seems to do the same.

"W-what are we doing?" You ask him.

He looks you in the eyes and cups your cheeks, unable to keep his hands off you. You didn't protest, vice versa, you leaned into his touch. This was new but it felt right.

He sighed. "What I'm going to tell you is something I've been waiting to say for the last year or so. I should have told you sooner but I was scared you would reject me. Y/N, I really really like you… More than as a friend, and I've been trying to ignore my feelings for you but I'm simply unable to keep this to myself any longer."

You were speechless, you had your suspicions but it still came as a surprise.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same way about me, but I couldn't keep it in." He continues.

"Max…" You break the eye contact. "I like you too, I mean… A lot."

Max eyes warm up with joy, and he gives you the warmest smile you'd ever seen. His smile reached all the way up to his eyes, and you thought it was the most adorable thing you'd ever seen.

You wake up in a bed. The sheets smell fresh, like citrus, and Max's cologne. You turn around, rubbing your eyes, but find no one on the other side of the bed. You find your way downstairs, to the living room and kitchen. Max is standing at the stove with his back turned to you. What is he possibly doing, you think. It's common knowledge that Max sucks at cooking.

You sit down at the kitchen island, getting lost in his beauty. It's quiet, the only exception being Max's swear words as he manages to burn himself and whatever is in the pan. After a while, he breaks the silence, "You know, Y/N, it's not polite to stare." He says as he turns around to face you.

You were embarrassed and sat there stuttering, not quite knowing what to say. "I-I-I swear I wasn't!"

Max laughs, "Uh huh..." And scoops two eggs onto each plate. One for you and one for himself. "Thank you, Max, this is too much..." You say, still blushing. He walks around the island and takes a seat next to you, giving your temple a light kiss while holding his arm around you.

"No, Y/N. This is barely enough." He smiles.

"So... What happened last night?" You ask. You really didn't remember, you must've dozed off.

"We talked about your holiday, and what happened last night, you know, you ending up on the road, and you fell asleep. I carried you to my bed, and I slept on the sofa. Nothing happened, by the way." He clarifies, holding his hands up. You look at him, and you can't make out if you were shocked or happy, or something else. One thing you knew for sure though, you were thankful for him. As he gets up again to get some juice and bread, you walk up to him, not saying anything. "Y/N, what's wrong?" He asks, worried.

You're lost in his eyes, and stand there like a fool. Just studying his beautiful stance. You had no idea what got into you, but you fall into his arms, holding him tightly, not letting go.

Max laughs nervously, "What are you doing?" While hugging you back, or rather squeezing you. You were unable to even breathe while he was holding you. You stay like that for what feels like forever, both of you fusing together, not being able to let go, not wanting to let go.

When you finally part, you're both out of breath from holding each other so hard. "Shall we?" Max asks, pointing to the eggs. As you eat, you don't say anything, neither does Max. You're processing what just happened and Max seems to do the same. You didn't regret hugging him, on the contrary, you were happy with yourself.

"I think I love you, Y/N." Max admits while washing the two plates, not daring to look at you.

Hearing the words, you freeze. You know exactly what to say, but the words don't come out. Max finally turns around to face you, and you're sat with the blankest of expressions, further worrying him. "Y/N?" He walks up to you.

"I... I think I love you too?" You ask yourself, already knowing the answer. You did love him, there was no question. You'd always loved him.

Upon hearing your words, Max lets out a sigh of relief, while walking up to you, and embracing you.

"Thank fuck." He sighs. You can feel him almost trembling, or rather vibrating from nervousness. His grip on you tightens, pulling you closer, before he lets you out of his grip. "Let me rephrase that, I don't think I love you, I love you."

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takes1 · 7 months ago

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final part asahi x feral reader w/ a size k!nk

skip the intro if you want again, (i marked the beginning of actual smut for ease of navigating) couldn't resist adding some kuroo stuff bc i love writing him even if its not sexual/thirst. this has turned a bit more into porn with plot forgive me i'm simple

warnings. heavy nsfw. minors DNI

info. nsfw / soft+rough kissy missionary sex / mentions of personal restraint / multiple orgasms / mentions of masturbation / gentle giant!asahi / asahi keeping your mouth shut / mutual size kink / sweet asahi / dacryphilia if you squint / sex toys (vibrator) / kuroo's sister!reader / kuroo cockblocking / kuroo being protective / 3.6k words / thanks for reading this asahi series!! it's been a delight!

haikyuu collection. more hq here! part one here. part two here. part three here.

more links. my ao3. masterlist. requests open!

You chose some giant clothes to cover the fact that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

Then, with your security chair out of the way, you quietly slipped into the hall.

The familiar sound of Helldivers 2 on the entertainment speakers assaulted your ears. Of course, he got to invite friends over for the weekend.

You padded downstairs, the ache between your legs nearly unmanageable. You clenched your fists at the sight of his lazy ass as you walked behind the couch to get to the front door.

It was funny how quickly he zapped all desire from your body. You did not enjoy sobering up so quickly.

"I thought you said you were staying home!" Tetsurou called as soon as you grabbed the leash off of the rack.

You nearly pulled a muscle rolling your eyes so far back. You shook the thing violently from the doorway so he'd get it through his thick skull that you were literally doing what he texted you to do.

A couple voices muttered something, but your brother spoke volumes above it--

"Wait two seconds, shit-head!"

You clipped the hook into your dog's collar. To Hell with whatever he wanted. You unlocked the door and slipped on a pair of giant, black crocs.

That garbage pile gave you enough grief about your no-plans-plan in the past 12 hours to deserve being stranded on a barrel in the middle of the ocean. He could handle playing games with his friends while you went to walk the dog.

"C'mon, baby," You cooed and closed the door behind you.

It was, thankfully, nice and cold outside. You were glad you opted for some warm clothes.

"Where are my shoes?!" He yelled through the crack in the door. Almost to the end of the driveway, you didn't figure he had the gumption to follow you without them.

You pushed your hood up and pulled the strings.

A stop at the other side of the gate, and you waited for Maru to finish pissing in order to continue the walk. The big, empty street looked a little creepy in the dark.

flip!-flip!-flip!-flip!-flip!

You were glad to not be alone, but still threw your head back when he rounded the corner. His hands were shoved into his basketball shorts and he was shivering.

You both looked down to each other's feet at the same time. He had to put on your flip-flops, so his heels were hanging out the back and his grippers were on the pavement.

A silent exchange went down, one shoe at a time.

Now walking again, you returned to your baseline agitation.

"I don't need a bodyguard to walk the dog."

"Try being a little less stupid, and I'll trust you to not run off with the first guy you see."

You stopped dead in your tracks. "You think this is me sneaking out?"

He didn't respond quickly enough.

You kept walking, glad he was so cold that his teeth were chattering, "You're an idiot--."

He pushed you, unable or unwilling to argue.

"Why would I sneak out with the dog?" You muttered.

Another stop for Maru. It was silent, again, and you were wishing he would just go back by himself already.

"What's that smell?" He sounded ridiculously close to your head.

You looked up and realized that was because he was sniffing your hood. A sudden insecurity of smelling like sex flashed through you.

Pushing hard on his chest, you declared, "Fuck off."

It didn't send him flying the way you wanted it to. It only pissed him off, especially because he knew that smell from somewhere. He just couldn't recall exactly how right now.

You expected him to push or slap you back, so you tensed, but no such move was made.

"One day you'll thank me," He muttered with a grumpy chuckle.

A glance didn't do you any good. It was too dark to see his face.

"For what?" You rolled your eyes again.

It was quiet for so long that you were certain he had just been joking. As if he did anything to help you out, anyway. All he did was piss you off and get in your way.

"For making sure you don't get hurt."

Frustration on the tip of your tongue, you began to retort, "I--," but fell short of the will to say anything back for a minute.

Your glancing around in the dark didn't help you form any thoughts.

Maybe Asahi being so kind was just luck. Not the wise intuition you claimed to be guided by. There were already many times tonight that could've made a turn for the worse, and you hadn't realized until after the fact.

That didn't change how you felt, though, other than some newfound patience for Tetsurou's difficult, demanding nature.

Maru didn't want to go much further than the fifth lamp post, so your small party turned around before you could cross the street.

It was quiet on the way back. Just the jingle of your dog's collar and the flip-flip of these shoes you hated.

You rounded the corner and closed the gate behind you, Tetsurou opting to walk ahead since it was evident to him that there was no danger anymore.

It was just getting to be a comfortable silence when he had to speak up one last time.

"Has this tree always been sideways?"

You genuinely thought it was a joke, so you didn't spare a look when you crossed behind him to get inside. He caught you shoulder the way you hated so much and you swiped your hand to hit him, but saw what he was talking about and froze.

The both of you took a moment, dumbfounded, to stare at your lawn tree. It looked nearly snapped, like a hurricane had come through, but it hadn't rained in weeks. Nothing else was wrecked. Just the tree.

You felt guilty about it for just a second, but rationalized that it had nothing to do with you. You weren't sure what that was from.

"Maybe it was rotted from the inside?" You thought out loud.

He glanced around, suspicion at its full peak, and guided you inside swiftly by your upper back.

Tetsurou locked the door behind you and stayed stock-still, staring through the peephole for so long you didn't bother saying anything to him before heading back upstairs.

At your door, you heard him call to Kenma and Bokuto.

"Did one of you kick that tree in the yard?"

You collapsed against the door with a soft shut and an even softer sigh.

There was no time to deconstruct everything that was discussed, because your eyes followed a sound that nearly made you jump out of your skin.

The man took up so much of your bed. He was on his back, scarred knuckles brushed slowly up and down, a casual pump to quell his impatient cock.

His hand fit much better around it than yours. In his other hand, held closer to his face, he was clicking a small device- the familiar buzz of which inspired a complete takeover of tension between your legs.

Your embarrassment was no secret, and neither was his curiosity.

"I'd love to use this," He grinned and looked you up and down, undressing you with his eyes.

It took some effort to find the lock on the door and make your shaky way over to the bed. Like last time, he met you at the side.

However, you noticed that before you left, he didn't have the same edge in his brow, or the eagerness that defined the way he pulled you into him.

When you stumbled, he caught you and tilted your head for a restless kiss. He was shoving his hands under the waistband of your pants and humming a sort of approval against your cool lips. It sent your stomach back into those fluttery waves of excitement all over again.

"You should take your clothes off," He muttered, fully immersed in his desire since he never had to sober off of it.

"Yeah- I should," You breathed against his rough, needy lips.

You were slipping back in quickly, though, when he took your lips in a chaste, passionate kiss all over again. His hands were slipping over your skin, discarding your hoodie before you could do it yourself.

His whole body was warm, it felt like he was burning through you when you stepped out of your pants and fell against his front. Like a melting ice cube.

When he picked you up this time and set you down, it was less premeditated, more animalistic. You gave a giggling smile when he parted your legs for him.

Any shyness he had before was long-gone after 10 minutes of imagining what he was going to do to you- you squirmed at his spit-slick fingers slipping over your soaking cunt.

"Still so wet for me," He muttered, pleased, into your hair, while his massive body settled over you.

That intense, near-evolutionary drive kicked in again where you believed you could take whatever he wanted to give you all night. It may have been the smell of his sweat, it may have been his grumbly voice.

"Obviously," You smirked. He grinned at your confidence.

"We can take this slow," He rolled a condom on without wasting any extra time, "I don't wanna hurt you."

The statement floored you for a moment. He didn't notice as he lined himself up with your tightness.

It echoed in your brain during the most contradictory part possible.

He sank into you- it wasn't easy, but after hours of build-up -more if you counted the self-pleasure you couldn't resist before he arrived- it was beyond rewarding to watch all of the stress and worry on his brow melt away in one smooth, slow stroke.

"Fuck- fuck, fuck," You whined, his grasp on your hip reassuring, but still a pen in which you couldn't wriggle from or adjust against, "God-!"

Your thighs twitched on either side of him, forcibly relaxed- you tried to catch your breath, but felt like your lungs were too constricted to do so.

His thumb brushed your cheek.

Patience and gentleness in the midst of it all allowed you to breathe a little easier.

Only kindness, with a hint of pity, remained in his expression as you gasped and struggled to ease up around his cock.

He looked away for a moment, his hand leaving the side of your face, and you heard a saving grace.

Asahi did you the liberty of placing it against your clit. His face lit up at the sight and sound of your newfound gratification.

"I bet that feels better, huh?" He smiled against your parted lips, stealing a few of your moans with an excited kiss.

There was a hard-to-pin inquisitiveness about his attitude surrounding your vibrator. Like he was dying to use it on you, feel you writhe around his still cock.

"Ohh my god-! Ah-Mn!" You cried against his lips.

It was met with chuckle and the slow pump of his hips sinking deeper into you.

It dulled the discomfort of his size, leaving only a feeling of fullness between your legs, a satisfied craving, and the intense waves of pleasure from your clit.

His pretty face and perfect body over you- how could you not just announce your paradise to everyone in the city?

One hand laced in yours, and you took control of your vibrator to swirl it the way you preferred while he picked up his leisurely pace.

He barely caught your high-pitched tone at the combination with an alarmed kiss.

Stalling, he warned, "You gotta be quiet," and leaned to press further kisses against your neck.

He quickly learned that you weren't going to stay that way for him, even if his balls were allegedly on the line.

The feeling of him going deeper, your thighs bouncing from his weight that shifted your entire body, and the building waves over your clit.

"Asahi," Came out in a needy moan.

"Shhh," He cooed, gripping the bottom half of your face to get your focus on him.

The beat of his thighs against the back of yours stole your attention instead- you squeezed against his palm with furrowed brows.

Another noisy cry at his size splitting through you, and he instinctively covered your mouth to shut you up.

He thrust hard into you and stayed there, earning a pitiful whimper, and leaned in close to catch your avoidant eyes.

A mutter against your heated skin, "Do I need to keep you quiet?"

His cock was stretching you beyond your limits- that steely look in his pretty brown eyes was so layered.

You clenched around him, butterflies attacking you now, of all times, at his stern tone, but genuine concern.

A gorgeous smile spread across his features when you nodded, helpless, but honest.

He felt too good- he filled you up better than you had imagined. You were stunned to feel that you were already close. There was just no possible way.

This wasn't how you wanted it to go.

It was too soon- you didn't want it to be over so quickly. But now, of course, you realized you didn't have the physical capacity to take him all night.

You tried moving the overwhelming buzz away from your needy clit, but met the resistance of his hand instead.

He pressed just enough to guide you right to an edge you couldn't pull back from. You whimpered against his palm.

You couldn't tell him you were about to cum. You couldn't move away, or speak, nor did you possess the will to push against him. All you did was claw, weak, across his back.

The look in his eyes responded to your subtle panic-pleasure without a word. A gentle fondness that he shouldn't have been capable of while he gave you his rougher strokes.

He removed his hand from your mouth just to swallow your sounds with a starved kiss, an avid grumble at the back of his throat when you took his tongue so well.

"Mm-!" You squeaked, nails digging deep red trenches into his shoulder.

It was an ultimate submission you never had the insurance to safely experience before.

You got the chance for a gasp before getting cut off -half a second before you could alert the entire house- by his huge palm again.

Asahi groaned as you tightened around him. He quickly shut himself up by flexing away the pleasure and leaning down to pant, warm breath spilling against your ear.

"Shh- I got you," His kindhearted whisper strung you along, crushing you underneath his weight, while he repeated that sweet promise, "I got you, baby."

All your worry of it being too soon dissipated as your orgasm wracked through your entire body and filled you with pure bliss. He fucked you hard and steady through it and didn't even grant you the dignity of looking away from him.

Your chest was tight at the end of it, eyes stinging, and you would've sobbed if he wasn't still keeping you quiet.

He watched your journey the whole time through your eyes, wholly captivated by your big, glossy fixation on him. When you blinked away the burn, he took no time to kiss them away.

Your body naturally relaxed, a twitchy and overstimulating process.

He slowed for you after he sucked the rest of your complicated tears up.

He was so heavy, so adamant on keeping your noise down that you couldn't tell him to stop. You weren't sure that you would try, even if he wasn't hindering your communication. The fact that you trusted him so much right now wasn't necessarily wise, but it felt right.

His growing intensity didn't hurt, but it didn't start to feel good until a raspy voice told you:

"Feels so good," He swallowed the spit gathered in his mouth and seethed, a light chuckle breezing past his lips, "You got no fuckin' clue."

That was just kind of sinful confession that gave you nervous chills even though he was already fucking you senseless.

He studied how your eyes clouded over at his words. A restrained, toothy smile nudged your jaw in a sugary kiss.

"I'm not gonna be able to get enough of you," He finally took his hand off of your lips and you were able to gasp at the impact of his words.

When he readjusted, he swept your legs up to his shoulders and dipped back down.

"A-Ah!" You barely choked out before he moved his hand back to its diligent place over your loud mouth.

He was so deep- you felt like he'd split right through you. Yet, you welcomed the possibility with the blessing of another steady-growing climax.

Yet, only one of you was so careless. He was so tender, so considerate because he could feel it, too. How fragile you really were in this position in regards to his size.

"God," He sighed at your loving stare.

"Gonna- ah, make me cum, lookin' at me like that," He groaned, a bit strained.

He finally dipped his head with closed eyes at the sweet, slick heat he just wanted to bury himself in. He couldn't get too carried away, now that it was starting to get difficult.

Your shitty stamina stroked his ego so much that he forgot he wouldn't be too far behind for a while. He got a bit ahead of himself and was paying for it with the climbing pressure in his stomach.

Your pussy was reason enough to fuck you harder, but that face was what really tested him.

His hand twitched at the compelling desire to hear you scream for him, but again, had to keep his sanity for the two of you. Next time he would make sure that brother of yours wouldn't be in the way.

He tried to keep an edge going, but found it laughably difficult to settle down.

If it wasn't your Fuck-me-harder eyes building up the needing to cum, it was your cute tits squished against your soft, scratched-up thighs, right under his chest.

It was impossible to keep himself from riding that high in the end.

As if to spite him, to completely spend all of his restraint, your watery eyes rolled back again. Your muffled whines filled his ears as you tightened once more around him, weaker this time but still more than enough to send him over the edge.

"G-od,fu-ck," He groaned, hitting just the right spot to fuck out both of your orgasms.

You felt him swell inside of you, his grip on your hand crushed yours back to the point that you couldn't claw him, his hips stuttered to a slow stop, deep inside of you.

A sense of satisfaction beyond the physical softened your face, your resistance between his fingers, and all your aching muscles. You weren't quite sure what it was, but didn't feel rushed to figure it out.

He was trembling when he released the lower half of your face, a beautiful sweaty and out of breath mess on top of you.

Once again, you gasped at the opportunity to breathe better.

He tensed up immediately and you flinched at the twitch of his cock inside of you.

"Shit- was I choking you?" He managed to stay worried right after he came.

You grinned, carefree on the backend of your own, and shook your head, "Mm-mm."

The look of unmatched relief that washed over him was supremely attractive.

He pulled himself out, slowly, and made a face at how much he came before turning to discard the tied-up thing into the trash with a solid toss.

You welcomed his cuddly shuffle up to your side by burrowing into his slippery chest, and sighed at last, "Cute butt."

That, of all things, made him uncomfortable. He cringed when you spared a glance up to his face from his chin. You rolled your eyes at his overthinking.

"You must be an athlete, or something--," You rubbed your face harder into his chest and felt his laugh resonate throughout your body.

It all felt natural. The joking, the cuddling, the winding down. You both forgot that you weren't together, let alone that you had only known each other for less than a week.

It was already warm with him next to you, but you were happy to be under the soft throw he found and pulled over.

"I can't believe you came twice," His soft laugh invited an embarrassed, but sharp look from you.

He clarified, "It's really hot, don't get me wrong--,"

"I'm not usually so easy," You half-joked.

A big, handsome guy that knew how to use his dick, went down on you, listened to you, and didn't shy away from a vibrator? It'd be a challenge to find a girl who wouldn't cum that quick.

You blushed under the cover of darkness at his gentle, comforting hold on your breast and reassuring kiss to the side of your neck.

The ache in your belly was evident when you were flipped over to be little spoon. It burned pretty bad and you couldn't exactly hide it.

"Did I hurt you--?"

"No," You muttered, clearing your throat, "No, I wouldn't say that."

He placed a big hand on your tummy, feather-light, and you looked over your shoulder to meet his perceptive gaze.

You sure as hell couldn't lie to this guy. He saw right through you.

You pouted and gripped your pillow. Of course you couldn't handle his dick the way you wanted to, the way you bragged about or even genuinely thought you could.

"You were so good," You admitted, a little sad in tone.

A warm kiss to the back of your head. He took the weight of his arm off of your sore body, sighing into your hair.

"You were, too."

He decided to drop the subject, since you both had strong opinions that seemed to clash.

You smiled.

You talked about a range of topics for the rest of the night. General information, first, then personal interests that turned into a long conversation about volleyball, then family history, then academics, then personality, goals, and attraction.

Soon it was 4 in the morning. You were eating popsicles from your freezer and discussing the adventure he had to get up to your window.

You both watched, trying your best to stay quiet, a minutes-long video one of his friends sent in the Karasuno volleyball group chat of him falling out of the tree outside.

A hand flew up to your mouth to silence your intense giggle-fit. You had no idea how you were going to keep something like this a secret from Tetsurou.

Before too long, the pain in your tummy was just an ache and the stranger in your bed turned into a lover overnight.

taglist:

ty for all the replies and reblogs and likes!! it means so much. it's really nice seeing all the other asahi appreciators out here!!

@valiantqueengarden @rinheartshyunlix @alpha-mommy69 @yuyunhoo @insertamazingnamehere

@kreishin

@ruu-https @kasai-https

@40unung @deluluforcarlos55 @lili-harg @beyond-your-stars @noyaskneepad

@rinheartshyunlix @vintagevict0ria @am-3-thyst

<3 u are literally asahi mvp @screamin-abt-haikyuu

masterlist.

requests open!

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a-hazbin-reader · 10 months ago

Note

Okkkk I am loving all the alastor with twins idea's 😍 💕 💖 could you do some headcannons where he takes the twins on day full of errands like going grocery shopping in cannibal town and a overlord meeting stuff like that

I'm just gonna add a new one here...

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

✅️Parental

TW: Kids being chaotic, Babies biting, Alastor X Mom!Reader towards the end

Description: ☝️⬆️

Normally, Alastor avoids taking the twins out by himself, preferring to double team it with his wife

It's just so much easier with you by his side

But when his wife needs a day off or is too busy to go with him? It's full on dad mode for him

He talks to them the entire time as if the three of them are having a real conversation

"Which of these two do you think your mother will like more?"

"Baba!"

"You're right, obviously we need to try someplace else."

Takes the kids to visit Rosie and pick up some of his secret snack stash along the way

Rosie absolutely hogs the twins and keeps them in her lap for the entirety of the visit

She coos and fusses over them, allows them to wear her hat and chew on her limbs

"Alastor! Look at those chompers! You're gonna have some real trouble on your hands soon!"

If Alastor takes them to overlord meetings, then Rosie and Zestial will each hold a twin

Rosie is content to just ignore what's being said and snuggle with a baby, smell their fresh baby scent

Rosie that's creepy

Zestial likes to blow on their twitchy little ears just to listen to them growl and bleat at him

It's a game to them

The twins literally can't get enough of Zestial's voice and the way he speaks, always just hypnotized when he opens his mouth

Carmilla is secretly dying inside to hold a baby but won't admit it until Alastor offers it up to her

She melts the moment a baby is in her arms, smiling and rubbing noses with the baby

Her daughters will absolutely beg to hold them though

Velvette is pissed because she can't take photos of the babies or even hold one, the last time she tried, she almost lost a finger to those teeth

Alastor loves how he can basically control how an overlord meeting goes just by bringing in his babies

He wants everyone off topic so that they don't look into something he doesn't want brought to light? Good day to bring the twins

If he's taking the twins for a walk, then he's definitely got those child leashes so that he doesn't lose his babies

It's also to keep them from going feral and biting people but nobody needs to know that

If they run into Vox, then he'll suddenly accidentally drop the leash just to watch his kids take Vox down

The TV head won't be getting up without a few bite marks on his screen, Alastor holding almost angelic looking twins in his arms

"My most sincere apologies, Vox! Teething has just been so hard on the twins..."

"Oh fuck you!"

"Ba!"

"Not you!"

Alastor is surprisingly patient and understanding when it comes to his children's needs

He's able to quickly figure out what they want and avoid a tantrum

"Are you hungry, dear one? Papa has just the thing for you~"

And if they do have a tantrum...he knows how to get ahold of his wife...

He'll take them to a park and play games with them just to tucker them out, he actually seems like a normal dad in those moments

Usually by the end of the day Alastor can tell that the twins are tired and missing their mom

He misses her too

Is so exhausted when he gets home and collapses in your arms, rubbing his face into your shoulder

"How was your day out~?"

"Pleasant, but it would've been better had you been with us, my dear~"

You can't help but smile as his arms wrap around you, and he pulls you in for a generous kiss

That's the only moment with you that he gets before the twins push between you two

"BA!"

I love these family asks so much

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 months ago

Text

Just Perfect | Yandere Illumi Zoldyck

The heat underneath your turtle neck collar was sweltering. The coolness of the kitchen counter was unable to reach you through your jeans, only felt when you briefly let your hands brace yourself on it. The cutting board and toaster pressing against your back served as a minor obstacle, shoved to the side by the man enraptured by you. For you, it was a reminder of where exactly you were and the time of your ‘lonesome’ afternoon coming to an end.

“W-we have to stop soon.”

Your neighbor didn’t answer, instead busy himself with harshly biting your lip. Probing deeper into your mouth as he pulled at the loops of your jeans in an unspoken request. Your hands previously tangled in his hair were grabbing fistfuls of his tracksuit; passionately pulling as you felt the burning heat in your lungs as your kissing continued. The haze upon your mind was addictive, thinking only of the way his mouth never stopped sucking–your tongue, your jaw, your neck. Barely registering his pale and masterful hands slipping under the form-fitting wool to squeeze at the fat of your waist. His hands are trailing upwards speedily making their way to your chest, it was almost enough to put all your worries to rest.

The jingling of keys just outside the door stopped that immediately.

With unimaginable haste, you unlatched and shoved the man away. Hopping down from the counter to pull your sweater back down and your pants up. Turning around to fix up the appliances on the counter. You quickly ran to the decorative mirror on the wall pulled the neck of your sweater up and inspected the marks on your face. Specifically on your lips while you sucked at the bloodied part of your lip. Lightly dabbing at it you sucking your teeth, cursing yourself before turning to the door swinging open.

“Welcome home Akaza!”

The black-haired boy didn’t look surprised to see you. Instead, he looked surprised at your state even though you felt like you fixed most of it. Watching him scrutinize your appearance, stopping at your bottom lips. You curled your lips in as though it would hide what was already seen.

“What happened to your lip?!”

You chuckled nervously,” I bit it–on accident. Is it that bad?”

Adding the extra question you hoped would dissuade him from asking more. Instead, the second year marched further inside the home nonchalantly dropping his bag at the door; leaving it to you to pick up. After setting it nicely on a hook you came into the kitchen where your adoptive son was clutching at the tracksuit of your long-haired neighbor, practically growling in his face.

“How’d I know this parasite would be here?! Oi oi, you listening to me punk?! What’re you doing here!?”

You held the bridge of your nose. That twisted face and tensed posture matched the reports made by so many teachers. You knew this wouldn’t end like those situations in the past. Not if you had any say about it. Not that Illumi was going to let you.

“I think you know why.”

“GGRRRR!”

Akaza quickly reeled back to punch him only for your neighbor to dodge, and swiftly unlatched Akaza’s hand maneuvering him into the perfect position for a headlock. You figured it’d be best to end this now before one of them actually hurts the other.

“Akaza. Illumi. Break it up.”

The teen growled again reeling his fist in an awkward position. Illumi didn’t release him, anticipating the punch.

“Now, Akaza!”

The teen shook his head as he stomped away, avoiding eye contact with you. He headed up the stairs occasionally sneering as he made eye contact with the man standing unharmed and defiantly in the kitchen. Letting out a sigh you let your neighbor come in close as you apologized.

“I’m sorry about him. I’m sure you know how he feels about you.”

Illumi didn’t bother sharing your worried gaze at the steps. Only intensely staring at you. As he usually did.

“Is that where you’re going this afternoon? To the principal’s office, again?”

Crossing your arms, you already recognized the annoyance in his voice.

“Yes again.”

“You’ve had 6 meetings this month alone. And they all happen on the evenings that are usually dedicated to us.”

You shrugged. “Yes well, that’s just the reality of it.”

“Isn’t there a seaside school you–”

The glare on your face made Illumi quiet himself. Clearly, the mention of that option was entirely off-limits. It’s exactly what he feared.

“Sorry. Maybe a meeting at the end of the month can be negotiated?”

“Unless you can convince Akaza to keep his confrontations to the end of the month, then I don’t see that happening.”

Illumi didn’t groan because he doesn’t groan. Instead, he crossed his arms to stare off to the side. He waited for you to hug his waist, shoving yourself through his locked arms to hold him tight. You enticed him to look at you, smiling when he finally did.

“Depending on how this meeting goes you can come with us during our victory meal.”

“As if!”

No longer in his uniform, Akaza had returned. Looking disgusted at the affection you two displayed, he donned his shoes again and stood impatiently near the door. The teenager had you swallowing laughter, how could a little delinquent (as he portrayed himself to be) still be so polite? Despite his words, he was waiting patiently for you and he hadn’t gotten physical since he returned downstairs. You’d consider that progress.

“Well maybe during our consolation dessert?”

“Nuh Uh! Your boy toy is just awkward maybe if he didn’t stare at you like you were his dinner I wouldn’t mind.”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter at his assessment, letting a cheeky smile spread on your face. Hugging Illumi tightly you kick up your foot to playfully bat your eyes at Akaza, delighting in the little twitch his nose makes when he’s angry.

“Awww~are you jealous?”

“Blegh! Get a room you creeps!”

“Hahaha.”

Releasing your boyfriend you went over to your son, scratching his hair affectionately before reaching for your coat and shoes. You smile at Illumi encouraging him to leave with you two as you pull out your keys.

“Well then maybe we’ll go see a movie together instead.”

Looking down to lock the outside of the door, you’re vaguely aware that the two of them are speaking. But you don’t pay any mind, you figure it’s a thing they feel like must be done. Talking about territory, counseling books would usually reprimand this kind of thing but Akaza was no doormat and neither was Illumi. It was actually emboldening to think you’d find someone capable of going head to head with your self-proclaimed bodyguard. And even better he was just next door.

“Yeah, get running track boy.”

“Don’t call me boy, boy.”

“Yeah yeah get off our lawn!”

You didn’t bother fighting them—this was a peaceful interaction more so than the others they’ve had and you could focus on starting the car while you waited. A few more insults were thrown back and forth between the two of them; finally ending when Akaza slammed the side of the door into the passenger's seat. Only then did you send him a look that had him reopening and closing the door—softly this time. Smiling at him you rolled your window to shout to Illumi,” I’ll text you afterward about what we’re doing.”

Illumi only nodded, watching still as you smiled and waved then you were speeding off. Didn’t want to keep the principal waiting any longer.

_____________________________________________________

“Aka, don’t you think this is a little…excessive.” You finally allowed yourself to speak normally, now that you both were leaving the empty school. Your son also seemed to relax, putting his hands behind his head as he walked alongside you.

“No. I’m doing it for her. Those bullies made her transfer, it is all their fault.”

He skipped ahead to open the driver’s side for you. Ever so polite you shoo him away back to the passenger side. Back in the car, you sent a wave to the principal who stood concerned while watching you drive off.

“I know but you couldn’t have a witness or someone recording you defending her?”

Akaza sunk into his seat, sulking a little. You weren’t trying to bring him down but you figured if you offered some playful jabs he’d get your point.

“Like that blonde kid! What’s–his–name is clearly high all the time, I’m sure you could pay him off to back you up.”

You spared a glance from the road, catching the laugh he tries to hide. He rolls down the window letting his hand get pushed by the wind being cut through by your speeding car.

“Douma is too popular for that kind of thing.”

“But he seems to like you enough.”

“He’s just a masochistic freak. Totally get’s off on the way I hate him.”

“Well don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m serious–”

You two continued to talk as you’ve always done. When you first met him, he was some flea-ridden kid who you’d caught breaking into a neighbor’s house across the way. Come to find he was trying to pawn off what he stole to afford medicine for his father. You’d seen this kid get caught by the police before and to say they weren’t fond of him was an understatement. In an impulsive rush of good will you decided to be a an anchor for them–coming over with food and necessities. Soon you were paying for school supplies and signing for field trips. You were more than happy when the state offered for you to tak him in. Ever since you’ve been the guardian to a troublesome boy with an inclination for using his fighting spirit to solve all his problems.

While you had no regrets about taking Akaza there was a glaring issue of your dying social life. Being in a small district for the school, meant familiar faces and a lasting reputation. While no one seemed to hate you for your son’s…unconventional problem-solving, they weren’t eager to get to know you. Those that were–usually romantically—would also start running because of some unknown force your son.

They were scared.

You understood but it didn’t make anything better. Both you and Akaza only had each other and the few people who were crazy enough to interact with you. One of those being your new neighbor.

“So icecream or churros?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

_____________________________________________________________

Watching the familiar car drive away from the entrance of the school parking lot, from his phone Illumi clicked it off. Looking back up at the blubbering woman and their teen, expecting something.

“You stopped.”

The woman nervously brought her hands to smooth over dyed hair, hiding the silver strands that imminently began to appear.

Shakily coughing she continued, “Right, well as a major donor to the school I’m sure they value me and my son’s opinion quite a lot. It’s nothing personal really—in fact we can make a donation in your name to support such a…troubled kid.”

Illumi didn’t care what she had to say. He has listened to hundreds of seedy or innocent targets try and rationalize their lives. Those in particular, that were lucky enough to get the chance to bargain. Just as usual nothing they offered was worth the pay.

“Alright I heard you out.”

Unsheathing the needles from his cashmere classic coat, unbothered by the screaming family in front of him. Now he was thinking about who’d he’d kill first? Who was he kidding, he’d been trained to kill them all at the same time. He briefly thought of how inefficient he was when he hadn’t gotten his fill of his fiance.

“WAIT! What if I got you a new principal!? Someone that could wipe his record! That’d be good ri—!?”

Illumi wasted no time flinging the needles into their necks. Their tied forms going limp on the floor. That was a great idea, it’d be easier to orchestrate the vacancy of the principal than convincing his fiance to depart with their misfit boy. It’d be even better if the newly appointed principal could avoid scheduling meeting on the days dedicated to pampering his fiance.

Wordlessly the corpse of the woman rose like the undead. Standing, twitching occasionally the corpse moved past Illumi with a mission.

Illumi turned to join, stopping at a rock song coming from his phone. Letting his puppet unlock their phone, following through with their prior promises; he busied himself with the realization of his phone’s latest feature. The icon of a locator app took up his screen, his fiance’s face adorably holding up a piece sign above the car moving through the map.

Illumi wasn’t aware that his love had, organized this app on his phone. Let alone made the . ringtone an obnoxiously inappropriate song. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to undo the effect. It was like his gifts.

Secret and made for surveillance.

Recognizing the route, he sent a message to his contact there. Illumi texted his fiance, reminding them of their prior offer. Perhaps this evening would still be salvageable; that is if that child would allow it.

______________________________________________________________

Akaza was planning a murder.

He’d done his best to keep chatting with his guardian, distracting them from their vibrating phone. No doubt the leech trying to get their attention Long enough for him to silence their phone when they got gas. He’d hope that’d be the end of it. Have his churro–icecream-monstrosity while watching the latest movie for him to laugh at with the only person in his corner.

But no.

He couldn’t have that.

Not with the leech, conveniently being at the theater after they got their tickets. Pulling his guardian into his side while he collects the ticket for the open seat next them. Instead of his parent already turned to snark to him throughout the movie, they were whispering in the ear of the neighbor. Whispering and laughing with the man who was staring blankly at the screen, probably not even watching. The frozen section of the dessert in his hands, melting was just an omen to the night ahead.

Instead of raving about the movie and they’re parent talking about their favorite parts, Akaza was forced to listen to the flirting of the two adults. Watching his parent pull at the man’s hands asking all the questions that usually would be asked of him.

“What do you mean you weren’t watching?”

“I was too busy looking at you. I didn’t care for the movie, really.”

“Don’t say that, there’s got to be something you like-”

“You.”

“Illumi, I’m serious!”

It wasn’t so bad when they relented to Illumi taking everyone out to eat. It was worth it to see the apathetic man silently accept the addition of Akaza to a restaurant of his choosing. Part of what Akaza hated about Illumi was his lack of emotions or rather the lack of displaying his emotions. Those wide black eyes bigger than olives always staring at his parent with insanity. The man’s strange movements that made him look like a puppet. The very rare smile that has people screaming in public.

He didn’t know what his guardian saw in him.

Or why Illumi was so dedicated to dating them in turn. Akaza knew he was intimidating enough to scare the people not worthy for his parent but nothing was working. When it came to Illumi the doll-like man seemed all together unphased. More often then not he was making his own veiled threats.

Akaza knew this angle, well. Others have tried to slink their way, whispering grand ideas of sending him to boarding or military school. But everytime his parent had shut them down, usually sending them away the minute they pushed the point. Illumi was much closer, literally and emotionally. Too many times had he found the neighbor making his parent bashful or stare at their phone in anticipation for a call from him.

Unfortunately it doesn’t seem like he’s going away any time soon so it was better to lay the law down now. He waited until (Y/n) had left the table, waving over their shoulder as they left for the bathroom.

“Look stalker, what’s your end goal? Sex, half their estate, you might as well come clean now.”

The pale man’s face showed no indication that he was alarmed or that he was listening at all. It wasn’t until his small lips curved and twisted into something wide and frightening. People around were whispering and a child was crying somewhere. This man was like nothing he’d dealt with before.

“What I want,” Illumi laughed, “has been clear from the start. I have nothing but the best intentions for (Y/n).”

Akaza sneered,”Yeah right. I find it funny you consider…getting rid of everyone they occasionally mention as a problem.”

Illumi cocked his head to the side. The leak of information makes him wary of keeping the boy alive at all. Instead he’ll make a note to handle those listening later.

“You know of my occupation?”

Akaza sighed,”Anyone who lives next to you knows. The thriving garden, the burner phones, and the way you talk about anatomy it’s just too weird.”

“I told you I was a docter, did I not?”

“I looked for your name in the medical registery, there is no Illumi Reldyck. I checked. There is another identity with your name but there’s no online footprint and I’m guessing you paid someone off for the fake certificate.”

The teen had him cornered. He did decide to lighten up considering the man’s hands reaching under the table for something. The thought of him reaching for a weapon did cross Akaza’s mind and he was glad for the pocket in his bubble jacket. Flashing it’s insides, and the insurance he carried as he brought his arms to rest on the back of the booth.

Illumi was no longer smiling, “I believe I underestimated you.”

Nothing more needed to be said as their food was finally brought by a shaking waiter. The glares exchanged across the table dissipating as (Y/n) finally returned.

“Glad you two didn’t bite each others heads off!”

Illumi leaned into them, “You told me you would hate it if I did that so I didn’t.”

Akaza sighed,”And I know you’d prefer it if I didn’t beat your boyfriend to a pulp in public. I know better.”

(Y/n) shook their head at the both of them before digging into their meal. For now Illumi and Akaza would be civil, it wouldn’t help anyone to fight in public with all these witnesses around. They’d wait until later to sort one another out.

Where they wouldn’t be held back by the person they were fighting over. Or the police. Or investigative hunters. Or the organization of slayers.

Yeah they’d have to wait.

________________________________________________________________

Illumi treated his wounds with the precision an assassin should have. Using his trained eyes to properly stitch at the gash in his leg. He was far removed from the process, after all it’s been years since he allowed himself to agonize over the searing feeling of pain. Instead he preferred to let his mind wander (as it often did ) to the one he endured these very wounds for.

Despite their inadvertent hand in creating more strain on his body for his next mission, he couldn’t help but let his obsession with them consume even more. To think even a child they hadn’t birthed themself was already strong enough to be an obstacle to a trained assassin. It only proved how perfect (Y/n) was just for him.

He’d long ago gotten the approval from his parents and eventually the entire family. Sharing a fraction of his extensive dossier about his fiance. They retracted their interest after the 50th page but Illumi didn’t mind. For once he valued the private appreciation he discovered when he first happened upon them.

It was a minor interaction. One that Illumi would have ignored on the route to a mission. They had smiled while passing by; a nice gesture they did on an especially good days. The assassin didn’t mind at the time. Many very observational citizens might notice him but very few actually acted on it. He didn’t care…at least not at the time. He did care when he found his mind flashing the image of their smiling face while he stabbed the needle into the subject’s heart.

At first it aggravated him that his attention was divided because of some random person. From a distance he could tell they weren’t particularly strong or highly intelligent. Yet he found himself in a department store’s camera room going through the footage of the sidewalk. Taking the seconds of the meeting on the recorded tape, he began his investigation. His…colleague often spoke about getting enjoyment from his time with people of interest. That’s all he’d call his growing interest at the time. That’s what he’d call it. Even if his investigation had been going on for five years now—he was convinced it was just for an experiment about enjoyment. Escalating from their route to work, to their home, to their room. He watched the raggedy child become a member of their home. Watched them send the delinquent to school. Watched them cut their hair. Watched them crash their car. Watched them go to physical therapy.

Watched them get farther with a lover they’d ever had. He hated that part.

That was when Illumi felt the desire to get involved. To finally introduce himself. To show them the love none of their past flings could properly pretend to show. After a talk with his parents he stationed himself in (Y/n)’s neighborhood. It took a short while to rid the house next to theirs but when he did, everything just fell into place.

Well almost everything.

“Thank you for the new job. I was told you had a request for me?”

The voice coming from the burner was calm—the tone of a fellow killer. It was reassuring.

“The student I informed you about shouldn’t need any guidance. No meetings with them or their guardian unless you confirm it with me.”

The silent static permeating from the phone filled the room. A great background to the alluring sight through the window. Right across the way was the silhouette of his beloved fiancé, oblivious of his watchful gaze. He couldn’t wait to offer the ring.

“Perhaps I can do more…with the boy…keep him away for awhile longer. Would that satisfy our agreement?”

Illumi let a smile spread on his face as that obnoxious song play on his other phone. The blue light from the window across shining through the sheer curtains.

“That would be perfect.”

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere illumi zoldyck x reader #yandere illumi #yandere illumi x reader #yandere illumi zoldyck #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere hxh x reader #yandere illumi zoldyck x gn reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere assassin

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brattybunny13 · 3 months ago

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Mother of shadows

So, I wrote a little something based on a role play I did with someone a while ago. Shadow monster x reader type story. MDNI!!

Warnings: cnc, corruption, pregnancy, eldritch God, tentacles, womb tattoo, implied cannibalism, blood, breeding.

Part 1 (still to be determined if more will come)

Imagine being a witch in an old forest. Imagine feeling a pull towards a cave that the towns people warned you against. They speak of an ancient God that has existed there since the mountains burst from the earth.

It starts with a pull, a pull that soon turns to whispers in the night. Those whispers become a voice that speaks to you when you least expect it. It's a deep voice that speaks in a tongue you aren't familiar with, yet you can understand its seductive tone. It makes you blush and burn in ways you don't understand yet. You find yourself waking up in a sweat after having very vivid dreams with an ache between your legs. You slip your hand down, only for it to return covered in your slick. There is so much of it. It coats your legs and makes a mess of your sheets and nightgown. You end up having to wash everything in the river almost every day. It got so bad that you would wake up moaning and whimpering, needing to take care of things by yourself. No matter how hard you cum it doesn't feel like enough.

It comes to a point where it's not only after sleeping. The ache between your legs haunts you during the day as well. Tending to your garden and your craft becomes extremely hard. You end up having to take care of yourself in the middle of everything. Fingers fucking into you as you kneel on the forest floor. Tongue out and drooling as you make desperate noises. You cum once, twice, three times before you're panting. Still, it's not enough.

Your guardians warn you and nearly scream at you about danger, but you are too distracted to actively do something about it. During the full moon, you reach your lowest point. You had started a ritual, drew your symbols on the floor of your house only to end up bucking your hips and your needs interrupting your prayers. It was then you noticed something odd on your lower abdomen. It looked like the faint outline of a tattoo in red ink. The ominous voice in your head becomes louder as the mark on your body grows darker. You kneel there, legs parted and leaning back on your arms while you pant. You squirm and twitch as your arousal drips down your legs. You frantically search through your books, but nothing turns up. You can't find anything about the tattoo right above your womb.

That night, you dream again. You dream of a masked stranger in a golden robe. He calls upon you, promising and telling you of all the sinful ways he could help you. He puts a hand over your belly, where the mark is. You wake up with a start, skin burning and aching again. Like a woman possessed, you run out of your home and towards the cave. You didn't know what you would find, but you knew your salvation was there. You run and run until you find yourself at the entrance of the cave. You stand there, panting and sweating. Your guides screamed at you to walk away, come back to the path of light. Their plees fell on deaf ears as a strange energy pulled you into the cave. You walked for hours until you came to a large chamber with a ruined throne in the centre. A large, dark figure sits upon it. Strong legs spread slightly as they sat, relaxed on the carved stone. The shadow grinned, showing sharp teeth. It purred at you, spoke to you in that language you didn't know. Yet his voice made your insides hurt and pulse with lust.

On a trance, you walk towards him as your mouth waters. You take in his large frame. Your pussy pulses involuntarily, you didn't understand why. You just knew you needed it... him. Just as you were about to reach him, he pounces on you. Pinning you to the floor. His large body found its way between your legs as you flailed and tried to fight him off. Soon, he manages to restrain you with his strong limbs. Legs pinning yours down and your wrists held on one of his large hands. His other hand rips off what's left of your ruined nightgown. You lay there as still as possible, afraid, and somehow... excited. Soon, you lay naked before the shadow as its gaze roams your vulnerable form. He whispers something, a command of sorts that makes shadowy tendrils crawl from the ground and wrap themselves around your legs and arms, restraining you. The shadow, hands now free, slides its hands down your body and stops at the centre of your spread thighs, looking down at your weeping pussy. It uses his thumb and pointer finger to spread you open, looking at you as you squirm and drip on the floor. Your hips buck, your body begging for relief as you try to fight it. To think rationally. The shadow starts to tease your opening with one large finger, gathering your juices before circling your clit, not quite touching it.

It then uses both thumbs to spread your pussy again before spitting on it. It rubs it in before lunging forward and pressing its mouth to yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth and down your throat. You don't know how much time goes by before your pussy feels more tingly and sensitive, your nipples perk up and your skin feels like it's on fire. You try to force yourself to fight it but it feels so good. You soon give in and start to buck your hips into the air, mouth open and eyes unfocused. The shadown doesn't let you go. Instead you feel the weight of its heavy cock on your stomach. Heavy and large on your abdomen. What you couldn't see were the long tendrils that came out of the base of his cock. Both tendrils slithered their way to your pussy, teasing it before sliding in. The feeling made your hips buck and your back arch. A loud moan escaping you. The tendrils moved inside you and started to touch your cervix gently. The shadow started to rub your clit in fast circles. It took seconds for you to cum. It was so intense that your cervix opened and allowed the tendrils into your womb. They found your ovaries and started to release a fluid to trigger your ovulation.

The shadow looked down at you as your eyes rolled back from the feeling. It felt oddly good. He kept toying with your clit as this happened. You didn't know how much time passed before the tendrils retracted. Their place at your entrance replaced by the swollen head of his aching cock. He teased you, rubbing himself back and forth before sliding in. He gave you no time to adjust before he started to fuck you mercilessly. He forced your knees unto your chest in a mating press as he fucked himself into you. His cock sliding in and out at a fast, desperate pase. His fingers soon found your clit again. He was going to make you cum again. You moaned loudly as he brought you closer and closer to your breaking point. Soon you came on his cock, fucking into him as he used you as his own personal fleshlight. The feeling of your pussy squeezing and pulsing around him made him explode into your awaiting womb. He panted, sitting back but not pulling out. You thought he was done until he started to play with your clit again. You protest and cry, overstimulated. He wasn't listening. He keeps this up, keeps making you cum until he's ready to go again and again and again. Hours later you're so far gone you don't even protest when he bounces you up and down his cock while he sits on his throne. Playing with your abused pussy over and over again.

Once the shadow is sated, he picks your limp body up and brings you deeper into the cave. He lays you down on a soft surface before walking away. He seeks you out on multiple occasions to breed you before leaving you to rest. You lose track of time. How long had it been? Days? Weeks? You try not to think about it, that is until you started to notice some changes. Your breasts are tender and seem bigger, more sensitive to touch. Then you notice your belly growing each day, its weight settling on your hips and stomach. Your scent changes too, it's sweet and milky. Your captor notices when he comes back to fuck you again. He inspects your body, smells you before leaving you again. This surprised you, it was the first time he didn't mercilesly fuck you for hours on end. Your appetite became ravenous, difficult to manage at times. Your shadow would bring you food. You ate it with a hunger you were unfamiliar with as he watched you. You would see his eyes shining with what looked like pride and hunger. Your craving for raw things had become terrible. Your face would be covered in blood and pieces of flesh after eating whatever, or whomever your captor brought you. He would still come to you but it would be to watch you from a distance, its eyes fixed on your growing abdomen. Not a month passed in your pregnancy before you were too big to stand on your own. This made little sense to you. You had helped women give birth before, it took months to get to this point. Neither had you ever seen someone as big as you had gotten.

You would sleep for days on end. On one pf these long periods of sleep you were awoken by a strange moving senation in your belly. It was like wiggling. I went on for hours, followed by fluttering and what felt like light kicks. You make noises of discomfort as this persisted. You strugled to find a position to get comfortable with all the moving and wiggling when the sounds of your frustration caught your shadows attention. He came to see what the noise was about when he encountered you on your side, making little noises in frustration as something moved in your belly. His eyes gleamed, he had been succesful. His offspring had caught. You demand an answer from him. He only came to sit next to her, looking at her as he laid a large hand on her belly. His deep, otherworldly voice cutting through the air as the movements calmed down... for now. It became clear you couldn't be without him for long. His absence would be followed by pains and intense movement untl he showed up again.

The instinct to protect yourself and your children became top priority. It would take over in a violent manner that was unfamiliar to you. You would snarl and hiss at your captor if he came too close sometimes. It would always be met by an amused expression before he silenced you. Nothing would stand in his way, not even the mother of his offspring.

When you weren't violent, you had become incredibly dependent on your captor for everything. You had even become too big to properly reach to touch yourself. Having to beg the shadow figure to touch you, to fuck you, anything. You would whine and moan on your bed until he came to help you. You wanted him, NEEDED him. It came as a surprise how well you could take him now that you were pregnant.

In later stages, your offspring would communicate with you in whispers and visions. Day and night they would whisper to you, you were slowly loosing your humanity. All of her 9 babies would show you things beyond your comprehension. colours, numbers, shapes, profesies, landscapes and knowledge that would drive any human mad. Your mate would find you staring at nothing as you whispered erraticaly to yourself in a language no human should be able to speak. Later it was the drawings made from the blood of your meals.

Yes... everything was going accordingly. Soon, you would be a God like him.

#breeding k1nk #monster fucker #monster smut #needy wh0re #shadow monster #eldritch

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queenimmadolla · 2 years ago

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𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

(dad!eddie x mom/pregnant!reader)

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 • more of the pennyverse here.

Summary: . . . After your eventful labor and delivery, you and Eddie can only wait to see what fate holds for your newborn son as you two finally decide on a name. warnings: angst, a whole lot of angst, near death experience, difficult pregnancy, early labor, preterm birth, talk of loss of infants, birth defects, happy ending.

a/n: we have finally reached the rainbow at the end of the storm, my friends. wrapping this up feels so bittersweet, i'm going to miss all the interactions! i don't think i've gotten to talk to this many people here before and i hope it doesn't stop after part three. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. and a HUGE thank you to my partner in crime, @kitmon, for beta-ing this (all three parts) bad boy for me. while Wayne's World is finally over, i'm excited to continue writing for this little family. on to the next thing! word count is 4kish. happy reading! and for the people mad about the long post, sorry, had the 'keep reading' tab on but it kept fucking with the format and eating chunks of it. you're gonna have to scroll. let me know what you think? ◡̈

While Eddie was out like a light, your doctor had also dropped in for a visit to inform you you’d be staying at the hospital for at least another day, which you weren’t too excited about. You were prescribed medication to take during your stay and so long as you felt good, you were allowed to roam about, meaning you could visit your son.

Wayne had also dropped by, with a bag he’d packed full of Eddie’s clothes and things he thought he would need. He hadn’t wanted to wake Eddie up, either. After making sure you were okay, he ended up taking Penny home with him. You’d debated on letting her stay, but you figured Eddie would be vehement on staying with you and she’d want to play with her toys soon. Wayne had promised to bring her back for visits.

Then it was just you and your sleeping husband. Eddie slept through the morning, past the afternoon, and into the evening. You were just about to run out of patience—eager to see your baby—when he finally woke up.

“Wha’ happen?” He rasped out, voice groggy and eyes squinted almost shut as he stretched, letting out an inhuman grunt.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you glanced at the clock on the wall, “or goodnight, I guess.”

“Night?” He followed your gaze, eyes shooting wide open when he realized how late he’d slept. “Oh, shit. It’s seven.”

“I’m aware,” you were entirely amused, “Your breakfast, lunch, and dinner are on the counter.” You pointed over to the counter and cabinets lining the wall.

Eddie was starving, he tossed the blanket aside to get up and made quick work of all of his meals, to your surprise.

Watching Eddie eat was always so entertaining. He ate so chaotically, messy like a gremlin. And not just when he was starving.

“Where’s Pen?” He asked through a mouthful of food.

“With Wayne and Maude. He stopped by and dropped off some things for you.” You pointed this time to the duffel bag resting near his makeshift pullout bed.

The burger you’d got him for lunch was clenched in his teeth, the wrapper around it preventing its contents from falling out, as he rifled through it, pulling out a clean shirt, a pair of sweats and some boxers.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He asked, again with a mouthful of food as he unbuckled his pants, pushing them down his legs.

You watched as he struggled to get his feet out of them without using his hands, aggressively shaking them off his right ankle. He cursed under his breath once they were off and you couldn’t help but elate in the fact your husband was still a dork.

“You were tired, snoring up a storm—’’

“—I don’t snore.”

“—And looking like you were in a coma.”

Eddie snorted as he devoured the rest of his burger before he was able to go put on the clean boxers (you’d made sure to lean forward so you could get your eyeful) and yank on the sweats. Then he pulled his shirt off and you responded by clapping your hands appreciatively.

“Now, give me a little twirl,” you swirled your finger downward, with a smirk and Eddie laughed as he threw the shirt at you.

“Knock it off, six week waiting period still applies to you so you’d better not tempt me.”

You whistled as you pulled his shirt off your head, holding it to your chest, “You might have had the dinner but I definitely got the show.”

“You’re incorrigible,” but he was still grinning as he yanked the clean shirt over his head.

You waited until he was comfortable, with his food, on the pull out before you informed him, “My doctor came by, too. Said I’m stuck here for another freaking day.”

Eddie pulled the fry he’d been about to eat away from his mouth so he could tease you with a pout. He was actually glad, you’d be surrounded by medical professionals so if for some reason something happened, they’d be able to take care of you. Plus, he’d be by your side every day until then. This was his last day off, but he’d call Norm in the morning and let him know he’d have to take the next couple of days off. He’d saved up more than enough paid time off at the shop, something he’d chosen this particular one to work at for offering.

Of course, when he’d gotten the gig as a teenager, he’d only been concerned about using that time to try out a new strain or micro dose.

You rolled your eyes and slumped back into your bed, “Jerk. She also said I could move around. After you finish eating, will you take me to go see him?”

Fuck, Eddie would take you right now. He was about to set his tray aside when you hissed.

“Eat.”

He held his hands up in defeat, but finished off his food a little faster.

While he finished eating, you’d gotten out of bed (yes, he almost had a heart attack and you had to threaten him to keep him from hovering) to freshen up. By the time you were done, so was Eddie.

You’d dug around his bag until you found one of your favorite shirts of his and put it on, under the stupid hospital gown, along with a pair of his sweats.

And you hadn’t wanted to, like really, really didn’t want to, but you allowed him to push you to the NICU in a wheelchair. It was the only way you were allowed to leave your room. Why didn’t you want to? Because Eddie insisted it was a game, full on running to propel the wheelchair, even spinning you around in it, when he wasn’t pretending to crash into things. It was fun, but you were sure the hospital staff didn’t appreciate it.

When you finally got to the NICU and the nurse placed your baby in your arms, you knew everything you’d been through was worth it. Every single second you got with him was precious and worth the possible sorrow that may follow.

“He does look like Penny,” you agreed, lifting him up to press a kiss to his forehead. He was in better looking condition than you recalled, not pasty or almost blue, and breathing. You remembered the shock of fear that had shot up your spine when he hadn’t been after you’d pushed him out.

He was small, smaller than Penny had been for obvious reasons, and while it made you sad that you hadn’t been able to keep him in you to develop more, you were still happy to have him.

“Although, I think their noses are different,” you mused and gently stroked your finger over the small tip of his nose, tubeless since he’d been removed from his incubator to be placed in your arms. He scrunched it up at the contact, and you were delighted with his response, “he’s got your’s, Eddie.”

“You think so?” Eddie was taken with that nose scrunch, absolutely entranced. He’d seen you do it in the wee hours of that very morning.

“Oh, yeah. He’s perfect. I wonder whose eyes he has.” Selfishly, you hoped a pair of big, brown baby cow eyes, like his father’s and sister’s, were under the eye cover.

“You can take it off,” The nurse hovering nearby informed you, he was handling another baby but he’d heard your comment, “he’s done with his phototherapy. The lighting in here isn’t harsh either, so he’ll be just fine.”

He stopped what he was doing to hand you a couple of wipes, “Just moisten the edges and it will come right off.”

You did as instructed, Eddie hovering over you in anticipation. Once the edges were saturated with the warm wipe, you carefully peeled the eye mask away, heart squeezing as your baby boy blinked them open. Well, that was a stretch, he blinked them into a squint.

He glared up at you like that for a few more moments, before his blinking became rapid and then they were finally open, forehead scrunched up in curiosity as he stared, little mouth just barely parted.

“Hi,” you giggled out, absolutely ecstatic to see a pair of familiar dark eyes peering up at you.

“Guess that answers that.” Eddie’s smile was soft as he watched you press another kiss to his head, your fingertips mingling with the fluff on his head. He couldn’t help but notice how enthralled his son looked with you, little fists curled near his face.

“You are so perfect,” you cooed down at him, finger stroking his cheek, he blinked at the contact, gave your hand some serious side eye for surprising him then returned his awed stare to your face. “I love you so much, my little grump. You’re gonna be okay, yeah? ‘Cause you’re just like your daddy, aren’t you? Gonna make it out even when you’re dealt the shorthand.”

Was Eddie Munson about to cry again? Yes.

“Perfect, perfect, perfect,” You enunciated each one word with a kiss to his head, “We still have to name him.”

The morbid image of a potential name for his son, etched into stone came to the forefront of his mind and Eddie felt a stabbing pang in his chest as he forced the image away.

“You know, I technically chose Penny’s,” you drawled, craning your head to look up at him, “I think it’s only fair you name him. Since you won’t let me name him Eddie Jr.”

Eddie stared back at you, gaze intense before it shifted down to the little bundle in your arms, at the face peeking out from the blankets.

He hadn’t wanted to name his baby after him, wanted him to be more than just a namesake. With Penny, well, her name meant something to him. Unconditional love.

It didn’t actually translate to that, but it had belonged to the one person in his life—other than you—who showed him affection, emotion.

The baby’s eyes moved away from your face, catching Eddie’s stare and something about it prompted a thought, a fact really.

Eddie was wrong. He was so, so wrong in his thought process. The weight of the realization almost had his knees buckling as he stared back at that little face.

For the first time, Eddie thought of his son’s name. Etched in stone or not, it was the only one worthy of him.

You’d let the nurse know and he retrieved your son's birth certificate for you. You loved the name so much and since Eddie had been the one to decide on it, you insisted he write it on his birth certificate as well. It had to be the neatest thing Eddie had ever written.

It hadn’t been easy to let the nurse take your baby back, away from you and you had teared up, afraid it would be the last time you’d see him.

Eddie had been upset too, in the last few moments you were allowed with him, he’d let his little guy hold onto his finger and reminded him of their earlier talk. He had to make it through tonight, so he could go home with them. After a few parting kisses, tears and reaffirming your love to him, he was whisked away to his incubator and you and Eddie made the sullen trip back to your room.

He held you in your bed while you both cried.

And cried.

Eventually, the two of you fell asleep, the sheer emotional exhaustion too much for either of you.

When you woke up, it was to sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains and the nurse taking your vitals. Eddie was still lightly snoring into the side of your head and just as the nurse finished, both Dr. Eisenberg and Dr. Houseman entered your room.

“Good morning!” Dr. Eisenberg chirped. Dr. Houseman silently made herself comfortable leaning against the counter.

“Morning,” came your groggy reply as you shook Eddie awake. He peaked an eye open to glare at you but the moment he caught sight of both doctors, he snapped awake.

“Sorry to disturb you two, we just figured you’d want to hear the news. Mrs. Munson, although I know you must love your hospital bed, today’s looking like your last day here. Which means I want to hear about you doing lots of walking today. I’m gonna check on you again tomorrow, but if all is well, you’ll be discharged then.”

Halle-freaking-lujah.

Dr. Eisenberg stepped back, nudging Dr. Houseman’s shoulder enthusiastically to take her place.

“I believe this is the first time we’ve met, Mrs. Munson,” she regarded you with kind eyes before acknowledging Eddie, “Mr. Munson. Nice to see you’ve gotten some rest.”

Eddie tried not to feel personally attacked.

“I come bearing news of your son. He made it through the night, with no issues. He’s out of phototherapy, responding well to feedings—that’s very important—and while his breathing is fast, it’s also a good sign. It doesn’t leave him breathless, so it may just be his excitement at being in the outside world and getting to use his lungs. He doesn’t tire more than would be normal for a newborn, either. We’re gonna keep him a little longer, let him develop a little more and ensure the hole starts to heal up, but I give it no more than two weeks before he goes home.”

The amount of weight lifted off both your shoulders and Eddie’s was almost disorientating. Your baby made it. You’d get to take him home! You wanted to cry, jump around, do backflips, but you settled for leaning into Eddie, who was blinking an awful lot.

“Alright, I think we served our purpose. We’ll let the two of you have some peace.” They both gave you grins as they made their way out of the room, though Dr. Eisenberg stopped, effectively halting Dr. Houseman as well, “By the way, LOVE the name you gave him. Really fits the little guy.”

Dr. Houseman nodded in agreement before she was ushering Eisenberg out of the room.

You held each other again as you cried, this time tears of joy and relief.

Wayne stopped by again, this time with Penny and a bag of necessities meant for you (packed with care by Maude because Wayne was too embarrassed to go through your drawers). She’d begged Eddie, literally wrapped herself around one of his legs until he agreed to take her to see baby brother. He hadn’t wanted to, would much rather have them meet at the trailer when the two of you could finally bring him home and not when he was still in an incubator, patched up to machines, but he relented.

Wayne kept you company while he took her to see the baby. She hadn’t asked any questions about the babies, only stating the stork must be getting ready to take them to their mommies and daddies because they were in boxes.

When he’d pointed out her brother, she couldn’t look away, placing both hands on the glass as well as her forehead to stare at him.

“My little baby potatoes.”

“He’s not—alright, sweet pea.”

“I getta keep him, huh, daddy?”

“Yeah, you get to keep him.” Eddie found himself blinking away tears, comforted to know he wasn’t lying to her, didn’t have to be obtuse to avoid telling her the truth anymore.

“Okie dokie, les take ‘em home.”

Eddie chuckled and pulled her a little ways from the glass to press a kiss to her cheek, “He has to stay here for a few more days, but he’s gonna come home.”

“Pomise?”

“I promise.”

She eyed him suspiciously, “You won’t fuwwet ‘em?”

“Forget,” Eddie corrected but Penny didn’t amend the word like she would normally do when reminded of the proper pronunciation. She still had a little difficulty with her ‘r’s so if a word had the letter in it and she said it right the first time, great, if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be fixing it, “And that was one time, sweet pea, I came back for you like a minute later.”

Penny maintained an impressive, nonstop commentary about all the things she was going to teach her baby brother to do during the walk back to your hospital room. At some point, she’d asked Eddie to swing her the rest of the way, which he scoffed at because that would make him look ridiculous to the staff.

Needless to say, by the time they got back, Eddie was sure the staff would be making fun of him.

Wayne hadn’t asked to see the baby, he was content knowing the little fella would be coming home with you. He still had that image of him in the truck stuck in his head, and he’d rather replace it with a baby in a car seat instead of an incubator. He and Penny stayed a while. She took your doctor’s walking orders (that Eddie foolishly mentioned in front of her) seriously and demanded you walk back and forth around the room with her. It was no problem until it just got annoying but you entertained her anyways.

Then all your friends had shown up, waiting strategic intervals of time to slip into your room as small groups so the nurses wouldn’t notice. They’d brought tons of gifts and Eddie had to sneak them to the NICU entrance, a few at a time, so they could see your baby through the glass.

After what a c-section was had been explained to the boys, Dustin’s respect for you skyrocketed, which you hadn’t thought would be possible considering his high opinion of you in the first place, and Lucas thought you had to be some kind of superhuman to survive that, he was amazed. Poor Will and Robin looked like they wanted to throw up when Steve’s girlfriend explained how some of your insides had been briefly removed to get to the baby.

It had been Nancy and Jonathan who got the group out of the hospital, and just in time. Your main nurse had come to check on you with all the suspicious hallway activity. Wayne and Penny left when visiting hours were over and you convinced Eddie to sleep on the bed with you, you always fell asleep fast when you got to cuddle up to him and you needed the night to pass already so you could get discharged.

You were impatient the next morning, Eddie watched on in amusement as you got ready, fluttering about the room until you finally slipped into a shirt and some comfortable pants with a high waistline (nothing was pressing into your scar until that bad boy was healed), then put your hospital gown over them and climbed into bed to disguise your getaway outfit.

Your plan was of course foiled when Dr. Eisenberg arrived and had you walk across the room a couple of times. She’d been amused with your expectations, but stuck to her promise and a nurse was wheeling you out after you were discharged.

Wayne, Penny and Maude greeted you when you arrived home, and while you were pleased to be in your own clothes and trailer, you wanted your baby with you.

“What happened to the spot?” You’d asked Wayne, at some point while Maude and Penny were showing Eddie a new dress Maude had made for her.

You were referring to the stain you were sure your water breaking had left—unfortunately, rather bloody as well.

“Maude got rid of it. Took ‘er a couple ‘a days but she managed to scrub it out, ‘s why she couldn’t come see you, reckon she figured you wouldn’t wanna see it.”

The widow from a couple of trailers away—and Wayne’s lady love—was shy as hell, but you were positive you loved her.

You and Eddie made sure to visit your son as often as possible. While Eddie worked, you spent most of your mornings and afternoons at the hospital, learning from the nurses about his improving condition and how to care for him. You’d learned he was fed a couple of special formulas, though they still encouraged you to breastfeed. On day seven of his hospital stay, you got to nurse him for the first time.

It was difficult, he wouldn’t latch properly no matter how hard you or the lactation consultant tried at first. It took him a while to get the hang of it, and it had been mildly uncomfortable for you, but eventually he did start latching. Day eight was spent encouraging him to latch each time. You knew you’d have to feed him those special formulas, but that was the extent of sharing him with a bottle you were willing to go. It was 50/50, and they’d informed you as soon as he caught up in development, and started gaining weight, the need for the formulas would lessen and you wouldn’t have to share him.

GOOD.

On day nine, you and Eddie got to bring him home. It hadn’t been completely planned, Dr. Houseman had suggested it the day prior, hadn’t guaranteed it and hadn’t been expecting you to have a carseat and anything else you might need for the ride home, but when she mentioned that he was good to go—though he’d have to be seen regularly to ensure his heart was in healthy condition and healing—Eddie bolted to retrieve the car seat he’d had waiting for his little dude and came just about running back.

“Don’t look so sour, baby,” He cooed as he tucked his little baby in and secured the harness around him. His son’s face was scrunched up, glaring at Eddie while he buckled him in. Clearly, he wasn’t a fan of the car seat, but he changed his tune when Eddie gently squished his cheeks between his thumb and index finger, the baby immediately relaxed, eyes wide as he stared up at his daddy. Then Eddie was tucking a blanket around him, and lowering the visor to protect him from the cold air.

It was wonderfully symbolic how peaceful the drive home from the hospital with your son had been compared to how chaotic the drive to the hospital, with him, had been.

Wayne, Penny and Maude were waiting for you again. Penny practically attacked Eddie’s legs as soon as he made it through the door with the car seat.

“Whoa, sweet pea! Careful, daddy doesn’t want to step on you.”

“I wanna see ‘em!”

“You will,” You promised as you shut the door behind you. Wayne and Maude were perched on the couch as Eddie placed the car seat down and squatted so he could carefully take the baby out of it. Penny’s energy seemed to disappear, she was stock still, watching as Eddie lifted the visor, removed the blanket, unbuckled the baby and finally pulled him out.

Maude’s reaction was instant, sounds of adoration slipping past her lips as the baby scrunched his back while Eddie lifted him, tiny arms pulling up near his head.

Wayne laughed, relieved to see the baby looked nothing like he had when he’d first seen him. In fact, if he didn’t know better he’d think Eddie brought home the wrong one.

“You wanna hold him?”

“Bring ‘im ‘ere.” Wayne held his hands out and Eddie carefully placed his newborn son in them.

“Well, ‘yer in better shape, ain’t you?” He commented down at the little guy. As soon as those eyes were on him, he knew there had been no baby mix up. He was Eddie’s kid.

“‘Shoot, another one with ‘yer eyes?” Wayne chuckled and Eddie’s chest puffed with pride. His next joke was directed towards you, “He’s lookin’ like Penny did when she was a baby, you sure you ain’t a copy machine?”

“Not anymore,” You scoffed, smiling at the sight as you leaned into Eddie’s side. He slipped an arm around your shoulders, hand moving to the side of your head as he pulled you even closer to kiss.

“He’s a cute lil’ fella. What’s his name?”

Eddie smirked against the top of your head before he answered him, “Wayne.”

“Hmn?” Then, without looking up from that little face, Wayne figured Eddie hadn’t heard him and was asking him to repeat himself. “‘Said what’s his name?”

“I heard you, his name is Wayne.”

Wayne looked up at the two of you then, eyes wide and unbelieving.

“Wha—?”

“His full name is Wayne Edward Munson,” you had to make sure they knew Eddie compromised and was willing to allow you to use his name as his son’s middle name, the smile on your face was smug. “Wayne.”

Wayne cleared his throat, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips.

“‘S really…” He trailed off, throat thick as he swallowed, head nodding a couple of times.

“I didn’t always imagine myself as a family man growing up,” Eddie confessed, “but when I did, I imagined having these crazy, weirdo kids who I’d love and who would love me back. Teach them to play the guitar, how to appreciate good music, play Dungeons and Dragons with. Was already afraid I’d mess up, though. And they’d stop loving me.

“When we had Penny and she,” Eddie pressed another kiss to your head, “suggested we name her after my mom, I thought it was perfect. Naming the baby I was afraid would one day stop loving me after someone who never did was perfect to me. I was struggling real hard on names for him, didn’t think Edward was worthy of him. Then he looked at me. In that moment, all I could think about was how much I loved him. I couldn't help but wonder if that was how you felt when you saw me.”

Eddie wasn’t the insecure kid he used to be—well, not as insecure. He’d been unsure of it at the start of his stay with Wayne, the older Munson was never very vocal with his emotions, though he had on occasion told Eddie he loved him. It wasn’t a machismo thing, Eddie was sure Wayne just didn’t know how to express emotions. It was how he’d been raised. Regardless, Eddie knew Wayne loved him.

Loved him when he was a baby, born from the woman he loved and not even his own son. Loved him when he saw him sporadically throughout his early life. Loved him enough to try and fight to keep him when his mom died, though the law gave him back to his dad. Loved him when a social worker showed up on his doorstep with him in tow, a broken shell of a boy. Loved him in those few awkward first interactions as they learned how to be around each other again. Loved him when he started getting in trouble, when police officers started escorting him home, when he’d had to pick him up from the police station, when he knew he was selling things and partaking in a business Wayne didn’t particularly approve of, loved him through it all. By blood, he might have been an uncle. By all other means, that man was his father. And his name was the only name worthy of his son. No rock star could compete.

“So, we named him after the other person in my life who never stopped loving me.”

Eddie could see the shine on Wayne’s eyes as his mouth set in a firm line.

Finally, Wayne managed to rasp out, “‘Ye’ah, you’re right. Not for one secon’.”

Not for once second had he stopped loving his boy.

Wayne looked down at little Wayne, whose stare was no longer scrutinizing, “You got ‘yerself a good pair ‘a parents. ‘Couldn’ta asked to be born in a better family.”

“Uhm, ‘scuse me, I fuwwot his name. What’s he called?”

“Wayne, baby.” Eddie chuckled and Penny leaned against Maude’s legs, craning forward to get a good look at her brother.

“Waynie. I like it! Can I put ‘em in my stoller now?”

“No, Penny.”

After the flood of emotions that your living room became that morning, Wayne and Maude had stuck around for a couple of hours before they said goodbye to Penny and baby Wayne and made their way home. So, about a three minute walk, tops.

You settled onto the couch, next to Eddie who had Penny curled on his lap, with baby Wayne, ready to nurse him as Eddie searched for something to watch. You’d just gotten Wayne to latch when Eddie made a pleased sound and you glanced up to find out what had amused him.

On the tv was an episode of Saturday Night Live, specifically the beginnings of one of Mike Myers’ most popular sketches as Eddie’s favorite character from the show.

“Just in time,” At the mention of his son’s name on screen, Eddie glanced down at the baby attached to your boob, whose gaze flickered to the side to meet his as if he was aware of gaining his dad’s attention.

The corners of Eddie’s lips twitched as his big eyes stared at him, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Welcome to Wayne’s World.”

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mydarlingclaudia · 2 months ago

Text

she’s demonic and bloody, but she holds me tight

note : divider is from @/cafekitsune. this fix does have dark content in it if you don’t wanna read I understand <3 I also wrote this based off the song In My Room by Insane Clown Posse. I also got kinda in the flow when I was writing this idk if it really fits the song but I like how this turned out but the end is like really really rushed bc I didn’t know what to do :)

wc : 2.9k

tags : @withonly-sweetheart @rigorwhoring @cigarett3wif3 @bonesnplywood

desc : a college kid with a social life that's almost non-existent figures the dead girl that comes to his room every night is his girlfriend, some say that's a bad thing, he says it's everything he could wish for. who cares, anyway? it's not hurting anyone! well, not yet, at least. there's an endless list of things he'd do for you, you don't even have to ask. but why won't you come back after he takes care of a problem that would have torn you away from him? you love him, right? not-really established relationship (idk how to explain it), a bit suggestive, Leon is kinda gross, necrophilia, gore, au, fem!reader, re2r!Leon

back to the party <3

“You gonna let me in…?” Your voice is muffled from the glass pane of Leon’s window, chipped fingernails tapping against the surface. Of course he’s gonna let you in, when was the last time he had ignored you? You’ve completely fucked over his sleep schedule, you’re too good to turn down.

He’s lucky that he has the whole house to himself, it’s been like this since he started college, even if anyone is there, you’re always quiet. Leon was lucky enough to have some rich uncle that pitied him after the death of his parents and gifted his summer house to Leon so he could stay there for college. He doesn’t talk to a lot of people, he’s got a few friends around campus and he tutors the kid next door, but outside of that he’s alone, no one comes over outside of family.

You came along about halfway through his sophomore year of college, he was scared of you at first, who wouldn’t be scared when you wake up to a corpse knocking on your window? But he gave you a chance, best decision he’s made in years.

You… were something special. Not a zombie, Leon’s sure you would’ve cracked his skull open and torn his brain apart with your teeth by now if you were, he would’ve let you.

You poor thing, your boyfriend killed you when you tried to break up with him in your senior year of college, Leon must’ve been seventeen when it happened, it had been all over the news. Leon’s not sure why you came to him, you never told him, there are a lot of things you don’t tell him, he’s not sure where you go when the sun rises, either. But you’re the best part of his days, the lamp in his room is always on at night just so you know he’s home. He hasn’t even gone out to any parties because he doesn’t want to miss a visit from you, hardly even stays out past ten if he ever does manage to get out of the house.

“Leon, I can see you.” Your voice is a bit harsher, your palm comes down against his window and Leon finally tears himself from his homework, spinning around in his chair to smile at you.

He stands from his chair and takes a few steps to his window, it’s never locked, it doesn’t even have the screen anymore, he just has to open it for you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The smile that immediately blooms on your face makes his whole month, Leon offers his hand out to you to help you climb into his room, your rough, cold palm slides against his, you stumble slightly. Leon’s hands soon find their way to your sides, his face almost hurts from how much he’s grinning.

“Hey,” Your voice is always raspy, it’s prettier than any song he’s ever heard. You always wrap your arms around him when he welcomes you in, this time is no different, one of his hands take place on your lower back, the other on the back of your neck over your matted hair.

“It’s cold out, do you want a sweatshirt?” He knows you don’t need one, but he’s been dying to see you in one of his favorite hoodies, he doesn’t even care if you get dirt all over it. You just shake your head and bury your face in the crook of his neck, he chuckles. “I gotta do some homework, do you want to sit with me?” You nod again and unravel your arms from around him, he pulls up his chair again to sit and pull you down onto his lap.

You love this, you crave this, found a way to weasel your way into this life even after death. You really weren’t trying to go for Leon, the night you emerged from your grave you just stumbled down the street, looking for a light in the window, you don’t know why. The only light on had been Leon’s, he was pretty enough, at least he didn’t call the cops when you climbed up the tree in front of his window and started knocking.

He loves you, you know it. You don’t know how or why, but God, do you love this feeling. You’re able to pretend for a few hours that you’re back to being a normal college girl, that your blood still runs through your veins and your boyfriend didn’t go nuts and stab you. You love him too, you guess.

You even help him with homework and projects sometimes since you took those same classes, you always hated it when you were in school, but you had a cheat sheet for half the shit Leon brings back from class in the back of you brain, why are you even able to remember that? Leon always holds you as close as possible, you're not really sure how he can stomach having you so close all the time, you knew he'd have you naked more often than not if you would let him see you like that, the closest he's even gotten to seeing you like that is when you took off your dress so he could stitch up the re-opening stab wounds that were scattered across your abdomen.

But he loves it, for some reason. He doesn't mind how rough your skin feels and how tight it is against your rotting muscles, doesn't get weirded out when he plucks a bug from your hair, somehow Leon loves when the two of you make out.

It’s a win-win, Leon gets you, you get Leon. He buys you cute things, short skirts, pretty tops, you play dress up for a few hours before you pull the blue dress you were buried in back on and leave for the day, just to come back and do it again the next night. He’s got a dresser drawer full of girly clothes that you only wear sometimes, he’s lucky he never has friends over.

Don’t even mentions the hickeys he lets you leave on his neck, those are the things his friends see and tease him about, interrogating him about who his secret girlfriend is. You don’t think he minds, he’s never complained when you sink your teeth into his throat and suck and bite until the blood vessels under his skin start to pop. Leon does the same to you, anyway, it’s only fair.

Leon doesn’t like when you’re in the house but not with him, if you get up to go wash the dirt off your skin in the shower, he trails after you and sits on the sinks countertop until you’re done. He’d join you if you let him.

Leon will never tell you this or even ask, but he wonders if you died a virgin. I mean, there’s no way, right? You were so pretty, alive or dead, he’d be lying if he said that he never thought about having sex with you. Who wouldn’t think about that? Theres no judgement from him if you’re a virgin or not, but maybe one day you’ll take his virginity. Maybe? He’ll take the dry humping for now and keep his hopes up.

Outside of wanting to have sex with you, Leon loves to hold you. You fit on his lap perfectly and your face always finds a way to the nape of his neck, you always cling to him like your limbs are still stiff and tight from rigor mortis and you’ll take him back to your grave with you.

—

You’re back again, shocking. Leon’s got you on his lap with your chest pressed to his, his fingers dig into the cold flesh of your thighs to slowly rock you against him as you nip at his lips whenever you pull away from one of your heated kisses, barely giving him time to breathe.

You have to leave soon and Leon has to start his day, the most sleep he gets is four or five hours the second he gets back from school, you come around midnight, who needs sunlight? He doesn’t spend most of his days out and you never do, Leon could live in total darkness and be fine with it so long as you stay.

Leon’s shaking a tiny bit underneath you, it’s always like this when you slip your tongue a bit further past his lips, you can’t taste anything but Leon loves the way you taste, good thing he’s not vegan. Though, Leon can’t really focus on kissing you back, you feel more tense than normal, your voice sounds choked when you talk now.

Reluctantly, he pulls away from you and you huff. Leon’s hands instead move up to your hips, stopping his rocking.

“You okay?” You nod.

You’re not really okay, you were trying to avoid Leon asking you this because you knew he’d react badly. The kid he tutors next door saw you walk down the street, you even fucking made eye contact with the kid and kept walking until you were at the tree in Leon’s yard. You didn’t know if he was gonna tell anyone or just try to ignore you, play it off as a drunk girl not knowing what she’s doing. But you knew he’d tell Leon the next day, Leon always told you the kid liked to gossip. Even if the kid didn’t talk, you probably shouldn’t come back, at least for a little while.

“Sweetheart,” His hands squeeze your hips, you sigh and sit up straight. “What’s wrong?”

“I- that uhm, the kid next door… H-he saw me.” Leon’s eyes widen and his hands grip you harder, it doesn’t hurt but you feel his fingernails dig into your skin.

“What?” You’ve never heard his voice so flat, you chew on your bottom lip and look away from him. “He saw you?”

“Leon, he knows.”

“What? He can’t know, it’s not like… It’s not like it’s obvious that you’re dead.”

“Leon, be serious, it’s weird enough to see someone stumbling into your neighbors yard in the dark, but when they look like they’re fucking dead then that’s something else.”

“Baby-“

“He’s gonna tell someone.”

“He won’t,” A dry, humorless chuckle comes from his mouth, he shakes his head. “He’s not gonna care, the worst that’s gonna happen is he’s gonna tease me.”

“Yeah? What if he tells his parents? What if he tells his friends? Then what? He’s like, what, twenty? He doesn’t care if you ask him not to talk about it.”

“We’re gonna be fine,” His hand comes up to your face, brushing over your bottom lip and pulling you back down to his slowly. “Why would he give a shit?”

“I’m not gonna come back for while.” You announce, stopping a few inches from his face. You don’t want to talk about this anymore, you just need to do your own thing, you have all the time in the world to wait and let this simmer down. If Leon loves you, then he’ll wait, too.

“What?!” Leon bolts up, pushing you up with him. “No, no, no, no, you don’t gotta like, leave leave, okay? I’ll- I’ll take care of it, I’ll talk to him. Baby, please.”

“I don’t know, Leon.”

“We’re gonna be alright, I promise.” He kisses you again and your shoulders tense. “Okay?”

“… The sun will be up soon.” You mumble, leaning back from him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He sighs and runs his hands along your arms, looking over your face to try and determine what you’re thinking. “I love you.”

“Love you,” You mumble again before you stand from his bed and make your way back out his bedroom window, you glance back at him, he’s smiling, somehow.

Once you’re gone, though, Leon flops back against his bed, his hands coming to his hair to pull at the soft strands, he's never been so nervous in his life.

“Fuck.”

—

Leon’s not proud of what he’s done, but he did it for you, so it’s not bad, right?

He really did mean to just talk things out, tell his neighbor that you’re his girlfriend and that you come up through the tree in front of his room because it’s faster.

But the kid had already told his parents, thankfully none of his friends, though. Leon didn’t know what to do, because soon the neighbors would tell his uncle and then he’d start asking questions, and then eventually his neighbor would tell his friends and then Leon’s friends would find out and- he panicked. What else could he say?

Leon came back to his neighbors later that night, maybe ten, ten thirty? Who cares? The thing about his neighbors is that the parents loved him because he was willing to spend two hours of his day tutoring their son who got into school mostly due to his parents, why wouldn’t they give him a spare key to the house?

He didn’t use a gun and he didn't go bare-handed, he’s not completely stupid. Leon just... came in through the back door with one of the knives from his kitchen and got to work. Leon hadn't thought a whole lot through besides his alibi, he'd just say he was sleeping, he's a college student, aren't you supposed to get sleep when given the chance?

But now his hands were covered in blood as well as his clothes, he made sure not to get any on his shoes, he'll just wash whatever became bloodied. And if he couldn't wash the blood out, he could just feed it to the fire pit, maybe a tie dye shirt wouldn't look too bad on him, he's thinking red and black.

He's not used to the feeling of someone else's blood coating his skin, did you know what that felt like? No, that blood had been your own, but still, maybe you could've told him it would be warm. And God, the fucking stench of it, he's gonna scrub his skin raw when he gets back home.

Leon doesn't expect you to come back to him that night, though he still really hopes that you do. But while he waited, he cleaned. Did his laundry, washed the knife, looked for any splotches of blood left in his yard that would be seen as an immediate red flag, he even kicked in the glass back door of his neighbors house for good measure! He probably wouldn't have slept, anyway, the adrenaline of puncturing a soft body with something he uses to cook is still running through his veins. He wasn't too worried about the other neighbors, most of them were old, it was well past their bed time.

Was Leon disappointed when you didn't show that night? Of course. But if you needed a night to try to gather your thoughts then what kind of boyfriend would he be to not allow you that space?

And it was no surprise when the cops showed up at his door the next morning, Leon had gone through this situation over and over in his head the whole night, he just needs to play dumb and be polite.

"No, officer, I didn't hear anything last night, what's the matter?"

"I don't know anyone who would do something like that to that family! That's just awful!"

"They've never upset me, and even if they did, I wouldn't kill them over it!"

"Damn, do I need to get security cameras or something, officer?"

Of course the police told him to get the security cameras, it’s no big problem for him, no one has to protect him, he’s just waiting for you to come back. Maybe you’ll even stay longer once you do finally come back to him, there’d be no one to worry about, so what’s the problem?

—

Leon doesn't get it, it's been almost a month now and you're still not back. Why is that? Did you just not know what he had done for you and decided to wait a bit longer? Maybe he should've known that the girl who got fucking stabbed to death wouldn't like him killing a family for her, God, did he scare you off?

He went to your grave, it looks normal. He'd never gone now because he had no reason to, but the soil wasn't loose or anything. Should he try to dig you up? No, that would get him thrown in jail in a matter of minutes. You weren’t even showing up on the security cameras the cops advised him to get,

Leon can't stand it. He misses you, is that really so bad?

How long were you planning to stay away? Did you just break up with him without even really saying it? Was killing his neighbors worth it? It's like you've just vanished! What does he have to do to get you to come back?

The pictures he has of you - from when you were alive, newspaper clippings of your obituary and your memorial service after the funeral - don't sit right with him anymore. He's had them since you started coming over, he just wanted to know more about you, but seeing you smiling at him through the black and white paper doesn't sit well in his stomach.

What's he supposed to do with your clothes? He misses you, why can't you just leave him a note explaining things? And he can't even tell anyone. He's worried about you, what if something happened to you?

But he waits, like he does every night.

And he waits, then waits a bit longer, then waits even more, and a month turns into four way too fast.

Where are you?

Leon swears he can hear the tap tap on his window, but when he looks, you're never there. Now he has to deal with the weight of murder on his shoulders while the cops are still out looking for the killer. Were the cops why you weren't coming back?

This is unbelievable, didn't you love him? If you don't come to him, he might have to come to you... somehow. He'll figure it out, he's pretty sure you're meant to be together.

Come on, don’t you know he’d die for you? Leon can’t wait for forever.

#claudia’s halloween bash ♡#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #dead dove #dark content

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buzzcutlip · 4 months ago

Note

hiiii, for the prompt thing, could u do carmy + "is this the part where you kick me out" and/or "i can't do this without you"? 🩷

also i am BEGGING for part 2 of the worst day pls i check literally every single day to see if it's up !!!

Hello! Cracks and Gaps is getting longer and longer, bigger and bigger. I don't quite know how to separate the text into chapters. I'm hoping I'll publish chapter 2 by the end of August/beginning of September. Thank you for your interest and support :)

Prompt: "I can't do this without you" Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Explicit 1600 words (warnings for injuries/burns and a bit of mean!Carmy - but also gentle!Carmy so it's fine, Claire is mentioned but note that this is set a couple weeks after the fridge incident)

The loud chime of the downstairs doorbell rings sharply through the quiet apartment. You get up to the intercom and buzz Carmen in.

You’ve only ever had the girls over—Tina, Sydney, and once even Nat. Those were very rare moments spent outside the kitchen, outside The Bear, when you somehow managed to have a day off together. Normally, you’re not very comfortable letting people into your apartment. And having Carmen here—you try not to think about it too much.

The thing is, you had an accident in the kitchen five days ago during one of those crazy afternoons just before lunch opening—full of yelling, collisions, and near-strokes—when you managed to scald your right forearm. Like, properly scald, until the skin was baby pink and raw-looking. The longer you looked at the damaged area, the dizzier you felt.

Richie drove you to the hospital, not caring about his absent driving license, and sat with you in the emergency room while a nurse bandaged the big, painful blisters that had formed where just skin used to be. Only the next day did you learn that it hadn’t been your fault—Marcus had slipped on water that Ebra had spilled, bumping into Carmy, who bumped into you, forcing you to lean against the stove with a huge pot of boiling spaghetti. Due to the shock, you completely forgot. Not that you would ever hold it against any of them.

The moment you hear Carmy’s knock on the door, your heart speeds up. You know it’s stupid and unreasonable, but you look up to the chef very much, admiring what he’s accomplished, and very, very secretly, you do have a little—big—crush on him.

“Thank you for coming, really,” you greet him earnestly as soon as you’re face-to-face with him.

“It’s the least I could do,” Carmy says as you lead him toward the kitchen table where all your medical supplies are laid out. Soon after getting home from the ER, you figured out that you wouldn’t be able to change the bandages on your dominant hand twice a day by yourself—not properly. There are many other things you haven’t been able to do.

“And it makes sense since I live the closest,” Carmy adds as he settles down next to you after washing his hands thoroughly. Leaning in, he starts removing the dressing, as you instructed, holding your hand carefully.

“Have you and Richie talked yet?” you ask to fill the silence with something.

Carmy doesn’t look up from what he’s doing. “You’ve been gone for four days. It’s—it's gonna take longer than that,” he mumbles, peeling off the gauze sponges soaked in antibiotic cream. You hiss, trying to retract your hand instinctively, but Carmy doesn’t relent.

“It’s okay,” he says quietly, giving you a moment to relax again. He reapplies the cream to the skin scarred by the blisters, which have mostly drained by now. It hurts like hell, his touch bringing stinging tears to your eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” Carmy says when he peers up at you.

“Not your fault,” you grit your teeth against the burning pain, trying to remember if you’ve taken a painkiller today. His touch is gentle and careful, and the combination of his softness and the contact does strange things to you. It’s turning you on.

“We should’ve done better. To prevent things like this from happening. The kitchen should be a safe work environment,” he adds, glancing at his own scarred hands. “As safe as possible.”

When he finishes wrapping your arm with the gauze dressing, you feel a wave of relief that he’s no longer inspecting your scarred skin.

Carmen leans back in his chair, running a hand through his unruly hair. “What else can I do?”

The possibilities rush through your mind, but you quickly dismiss all inappropriate intrusive thoughts. “Would you help me wash my hair?” you ask, grimacing at your own ineptitude, embarrassed and frustrated. Your scalp has been itching for the second day, driving you absolutely nuts.

Carmen nods without hesitation, understanding the vulnerability behind your request. “Yeah, of course. Whatever you need,” he says gently, standing up and glancing around your apartment to find the bathroom.

You lead him there, feeling a mix of relief and self-consciousness. You’re not used to asking for help, especially not with something so personal. Carmen seems to sense this because as you walk, he doesn’t say anything more, just follows your lead.

The bathroom is small but clean, and you can’t help but notice the way Carmen’s presence fills the space, making it feel even smaller. You pull out a chair and sit with your back to the basin, trying to ignore the awkwardness of the situation. Carmen moves around you, adjusting the water temperature and rolling up his sleeves. When his fingers brush against your neck as he gathers your hair, a shiver runs down your spine.

“Lean back a little,” he says, his voice low, almost hesitant but soothing. You do as he says, closing your eyes as he begins to wet your hair. The warm water runs down your scalp, and for a moment, you can almost forget the pain in your arm and the way your heart races whenever Carmen is near.

He’s gentle, more so than you would have expected from someone who spends his days commanding a chaotic kitchen. His fingers work the shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp in slow, careful circles. The sensation is almost too much—too intimate, too comforting—and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“You’re very quiet.”

“So are you. When you’re not shouting,” you don’t miss the opportunity to pick at him. “It’s hard to figure you out.”

Carmen scoffs, but there’s a subtle tension in his voice. “Right back at ya.”

The water in the basin swishes loudly as Carmen rinses the shampoo, combing through your hair with his fingers, careful not to tug too hard, squeezing the excess water ouf from your hair. ““There you go,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “All done.”

You sit up slowly, feeling a bit lighter. “Thank you. Couldn’t do it without you.”

Carmen offers a small, almost shy smile, but there’s something behind his eyes—a flicker of unease, like he’s unsure of how to respond. You wonder, not for the first time, if the tenderness he’s showing isn’t something that comes naturally to him.

The shift is abrupt. Familiar from how you know him from work. His mood swings and angry outbursts. You don’t know what causes it. Maybe he can finally see it on you. The way you’ve been pressing your thighs together, the redness of your cheeks. Is this his secret superpower -- can he read thoughts?

“What?” you ask with an unease when he stares at you for too long, wiping his wet hands in the pink towel, then putting it neatly on the radiator behind him.

Carmen’s movements are swift and decisive as he kneels in front of you, his rough voice breaking the silence. “I blame myself,” he says, almost desperately. He takes your injured hand, his lips brushing against the bare fingers and knuckles peeking out from beneath the bandages. His other hand disappears between your thighs, and you’re mortified at the thought that he can probably feel how wet you are through the layers of clothing.

“There are other ways to make you feel better,” he says, his words dripping with a raw, suggestive intensity that leaves you stunned. You blink rapidly, trying to process the unexpected turn in his demeanor.

A wave of emotions crashes over you, paralyzing you with its intensity. “What about Cla -”

“Shut up,” he murmurs quietly, without much heat. “You want this or not?”

You do, you’re nodding. You’ll take anything he’s willing to give you, no matter what.

Carmen eats you out. He pulls down your leggings along with your panties, eyes fixed between your legs where you’re already - embarrassingly - wet from all of his touches, intentional or not. Carmen only uses his mouth on you - his tongue and lips, keeping his hands where you can’t see or feel them. It reminds you of David Coperfield and his right magic hand never touching Claudia Schiffer. Like if Carmy put his fingers into your pussy it would suck out his mojo, or something.

Usually it’s hard for you to come just from oral sex but Carmen’s different. He uses these long, wide licks on you, literally eating your pussy out, rather than just licking at your clit. That really does the trick for you.

When you come, hand gripping Carmy’s curls, he’s busy touching himself. You can hear the rustling and the wet noises even through the static in your ears.

You can barely catch your breath when Carmen says: “Pull,” and you do - hard - which leaves him gasping, and even though he doesn’t make any loud noises, it makes your pussy throb.

He comes with his head between your legs, licking at you weakly without much intent. You know only because his movements come to a stop and for a moment you’re both still. Until Carmen visibly shakes himself and his eyes find yours once again.

“Say thank you, chef,” he murmurs against your skin, punctuating his words with a sharp smack to your inner thigh. The sting of it makes you jump, gasping at the unexpected pain.

“Thank you,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper, shaky from the intensity of it all.

#this is clearly a work of someone with two personalities #carmy berzatto #my fic #the bear #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmen x you #carmen berzatto drabble #carmen berzatto fic

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soraviie · 2 years ago

Text

being given a hickey.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ navigation

━ about: fluff, some hints of angst and some suggestive hints

━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ leave behind a comment and reblog or your every drink will always be at the wrong temperature

NAMJOON | The evening crawls by slowly. The setting of the orange sun bathes the apartment in bright, warm light before it’s inevitably replaced by the overhead lights. You shuffle around in your peace, alternating between cooking and cleaning up the dishes and though there is a vague sound of demo song rolling from Namjoon’s home office, you ignore it at first, having been subjected to much of his releases over the years. However, once the TV show you’ve been passively watching becomes too boring to endure any longer, you paddle towards the closed doors. Namjoon sits slunken back into the chair, wearing a deeply etched frown upon his face.

You poke a head into his makeshift studio, nose wrinkling at the smell of the stale air.

“Hey, Namu,” you call out, an unassuming lilt to your voice. “You coming to bed?”

He turns round, appearing a bit dazed as though he’d forgotten there was anything else outside the studio. You don't entirely put it past him. Namjoon takes a gander at you then at the small window facing the darkened outside, grimacing at the fall of the night.

“Yeah,” he drags out tiredly. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Alright. I cooked some dinner. The leftovers are in the fridge if you want them.”

Something about the sentence upsets him as the ends of his mouth draw downward and just a second after his hand beckons to come closer. You do so, slightly confused at the sudden request of proximity. Without saying anything, Namjoon wraps a hand around your lower waist, hoisting you up his lap, chair giving out a pitiful squeak underneath the combined weight.

“It seems that I have neglected you tonight,” he mutters, voice falling dangerously low. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s alright,” you brush off, trying not to stroke his ego too much. Your heart might still be fluttering as his fingers brush a strand of hair from your face but god help he did not need to get any more complacent.

“It ain’t,” Namjoon shakes his head grimly. “Come here.”

He leans in with dead set eyes and you close your own, wholly convinced on receiving a kiss on the mouth but instead you feel his plush lips press up against a point just below your jaw and the subsequent teasing scrape of his teeth.

Your mouth falls open in a shuddery “oh” and Namjoon takes a deep inhale, smile noticeably curving against your slowly bruising skin.

He pulls away, letting you — a bit dazed, a bit stupid — off his lap where you come to stand shakily on the carpet.

“Run along,” he chuckles somewhat insidiously, clearly taking some amusement in your befuddled state. You huff, flipping him off in the rising frustration but you both know it’s all without bite.

YOONGI | “Yoongi—”

“Five more minutes.”

Briefly you think of arguing but sensing how despairingly his fingers dig into your sides, you relent with a heavy sigh on the lips and a complicit turn of the head.

“Good,” you hear him hum appreciatively, vibrations rolling against the blackened column of your throat.

“What’s with you, old man? Mid life crisis?” you grouse but it is graciously ignored. A hefty scent of whiskey wafts from his greedy mouth as it’s pressed time and time again, teeth and all, against your skin. Figures that the grandpa has to be drunk to wrangle you so shamelessly. You sit perched on his lap, confined there by his arms, having nothing to stare at but each individual detail of the living room’s wallpaper. It’s soullessly grey —you’d whined to him about it needing to be changed. Suddenly a sharp pain flares against the muscle in your neck and you let your discontent be known.

“Ow! Yoongi!”

Sinking your fingers into his hair, you pull harshly on the dark locks, instantly feeling some resistance.

“Jus’ a bit more,” he mutters lowly, pulling you closer, impossibly closer, as any second now you swear you’d melt into one another. Finally with a wet pop, he unlatches himself away, wiping the remaining saliva with the sleeve of his jumper. Possessing a slight yet somewhat understandable tremor in the knees, you sit back on his calves, feeling the muscle grow taut underneath.

“May I go now?” you inquire tiredly, recalling the bowl of batter that was forcefully abandoned on the kitchen counter. Yoongi looks up at you with hooded eyes and reflected in them is the whole mass of everything he felt but found too difficult to say out loud. And yet that just made you love him all the more. He seems to be enthralled by some deep passing thought and after a moment of consideration, there comes a clear answer.

“No, I shouldn’t think so.”

JIN | At most it was ten minutes. What with the recipe being something so crude as "toss the eggs into a pan" one wouldn’t expect more than that but then again one wouldn’t expect the hump attached to your back.

“You’re hampering with my breakfast,” you give a low hiss of warning but the sack only tightens his grubby hands around your waist.

“‘s not that important,” he mutters into the crook of your neck, the motions leaving a wet imprint upon your chin.

“Not that important,” you scoff. “You’re the one who woke me up saying you were hungry.”

“Not for food.”

You halt for a second.

“Leave.”

“Always so cold-hearted,” Jin whines, voice falling quite offended as he fondles the flesh underneath his warm palm. “You know how many people would kill to be where you are?”

“Then let them,” carelessly, you try to fight his grasp, having half the mind to just smack him with the spatula. “I want my fucking breakfast!”

“Me too!”

“Not like that!”

And then you feel it — unmistakable, intrusive — the literal biting sensation of his teeth meeting your neck. Your heart jumps in your throat and you hate the fact that even after all this time he has this much power over you.

The spatula comes soon after.

“OW!” in trying to evade the hit, Jin unclamps his jaws from your neck with a bothersome sound. Immediately, your hand darts to the sore spot, wiping off the saliva with perhaps too feigned of a disgust marring your features.

“No eggs for you,” you grumble but from the shit-eating grin lighting up his entire face, it’s not hard to guess that Jin didn’t give much of a shit.

HOSEOK | Drowsily moving the toothbrush along the inside of your mouth through the haze of sleep you examine the hues of purple alongside your lower neck and shoulders. One particular mark piques your curiosity and after spitting out the toothpaste, you lean towards the mirror, poking a nail at the darkest of bruises, marveling at the dent reminiscent of moon’s sickle.

“Good morning,” Hoseok’s gravelly voice can be heard in the doorway, before he enters the room, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your head.

“What was with you yesterday?” you ask, hoping that the literal light of the morning will shed some insight on the proverbial dark.

“What do you mean?” Hoseok furrows his brow but once you point at the formed bruises, the wrinkles in his forehead smoothes out.

“Oh right,” you hear him whisper to himself before reaching into one of the closed cabinets. He quirks his head to the closed lid of the toilet and with a sigh, you sit down upon it, shivering slightly in the morning cold.

Hoseok misinterprets this and bids a quick though heartfelt apology.

“No, it’s not what I meant,” you rush to shake your head as Hoseok continues to slather the numbing cream onto your battered skin. “You just…I don’t know seemed somehow different yesterday.”

His lips purse together in a thin line whilst his gaze traces the dark spots with a thoughtful glare.

“I was in my head,” he finally admits somewhat sourly. “I was scared, you know, of you…forgetting me.”

“Oh, Hoseok…”

“No, don’t pity me,” he interrupts wearing an expression of hidden grief. “Just…don’t forget me.”

You almost laugh at the ridiculousness of such a plea. Like you ever could.

“I won’t,” you promise, reaching to wrap your hand around his that was still applying some lotion. He gives a gentle smile hearing it, before letting out a demure chuckle.

“And I promise to use my words instead of teeth.”

JIMIN | Because you so amicably ignored his first over-exaggerated huff of irritation, Jimin doubles down and after leaning up right next to your ear he takes a deep breath and then exhales with a loud noise of pointed discontent.

“If you’re going to be annoying, why did you want to come along?” you try to pry him off your shoulder with a shrug of the shoulder but Jimin being Jimin remains one obstinate cuddle bug.

“I thought you’d be quicker with it,” he whines, casting a damning glare towards the pair of joggers held in your hand as though they were the ones at blame.

“Well, you’re not exactly of help here,” you remark in a hushed tone as a pair of giggling schoolgirls pass too near. “You just say everything looks good to make me leave quicker.”

“You do look good in everything!” he cries out with a pout chockful with objection and though you shush him, glimpsing nervously around if everyone’s watching too near, his voice drops in volume but not in its offended quality. “Even if it’s not your style,” he continues his point.

“Ugh, you’re impossible,” you hiss, delivering an elbow to his ribs, eyes already scouring something good in the discount pile of the in-between season sales. Your heart goes out to the workers — it was a battlefield.

“I’m hungry,” a voice whispers in the shell of your ear, prompting long lines of goosebumps despite you wholly knowing who it was.

“Then go eat.”

“How dare you! We eat together, that's a rule!”

“We’re not kindergarteners! I don’t need to hold your hand as you eat.”

“Speak for yourself,” bitterly, Jimin mutters underneath the breath before he gains a curious idea, one that warps his mouth into a sly smile.

“Let’s go,” Jimin whines, leaning his full weight against your side. His lips come to nip at the side of your neck and you groan feeling the familiar sting of his impatient pecks. “Let’s go, I’ll buy you something tomorrow.”

“Ease up, Park,” you warn him, fruitlessly trying to shoo him away. The top of his hair itches the sides of your cheeks and you stifle the smile threatening to break out.

“Let’s gooooo.”

“Nooooo.”

He leans back, narrowing his eyes in a stormy expression before leaning in one final time - this one grasping a much larger area of the thin skin of your neck before passing it under his teeth.

“OW!” you cry out, quickly reaching to cradle the sore spot. Right under the side of your jaw. You swat at him lightly, forming a pout yourself but imperiously, Jimin only turns up his nose, though the arc of his smile betrays him in the end.

TAEHYUNG | “Your hand is sweaty.”

He immediately pulls away with a demure “sorry” under breath.

“I didn’t mean “let go”,” you grouse.

Peeking at Taehyung from the corner of the eye — it’s unmistakable. The way his gaze flits from one passerby to the next, the rhythmical gnawing of his jaw — a futile way to expel stress — he was nervous.

“Why are you worried?” you inquire gently, slowly moving through the bustle of the celebrating crowd. A national holiday — it was vain to hope you could get from point A to point B without much trouble.

He mumbles something as an answer but it's too incoherent to make out. His eyes move with increasing speed, jumping hurriedly across the moving wall of strangers.

“Let’s move to the side,” you urge and he complies easily with the pull of your hand, honestly appearing too overwhelmed to propose any sort of argument. You press him against the bricked up wall of the nearby cafe, forming a makeshift shield between him and the crowd at large. No one is paying any attention — the flowing bubbles, calls of the nearby vendors, the straying rays of warming sun — all of it is too much for anyone to cast their gaze to the side. You feel Taehyung’s fingers cautiously brush up against yours as if weighing on the thread between good and bad. You grip them back with ardent fervour and it’s not long before he slumps up against your back, head falling down into the crook of the neck.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he mumbles. “I don’t know why so suddenly—”

“Don’t worry,” you hush him, inspecting the crowd for any straying interest though there is none. “Let’s head home and watch something good, alright?”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters miserably, his breath tickling along the side of your ear. “I ruined a good day.”

“It’s still a good day,” you correct him, patting the arm that by now has moved on to tightly gripping your waist. “Don’t worry about it.”

Still he lays an apologetic kiss to your nape and seconds after you feel a somewhat shy nip along your throat — it was a comforting tactic for him and recognizing it, you crane your head to allow more access. If anyone does notice you two lingering in the corner, the sight is too intimate to stare. Once the swarming crowd thins out of the main street, disappearing down the more picturesque river, you scrape gently down Taehyung’s scalp, rousing him from whatever zone of comfort he’d sunken into. The side of your neck aches from the force of his bites but you don’t remark upon it. Blearily, Taehyung blinks down at you, a relieved sigh tumbling from his lips as he looks out and sees the street empty.

“Let’s go home,” you urge him softly.

JUNGKOOK | “Does it hurt?” he wonders, letting an inquisitive finger poke at the blossoming bruise. The flesh pales only to regain its full dark glory once the pressure grows lax.

“A little,” you admit quietly, hearing just the end of a vague hum in reply. “Do you feel guilty over it?”

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, admiring his “work” as his gaze drags ever so slowly upon each individual proof of his love. Or so he called them.

“Not really.”

He gives a shameless smile and dives in once more. Even now your breath stutters when feeling the scrape of his front teeth against the sore flesh. Inescapably, he meets the seam of your shirt and with a displeased growl, he yanks it away, leaving you practically bare chested.

You stare hazily into the ceiling of his apartment, listening with the ends of your ears to the soft music swirling the warm air. Jungkook’s curls itch at your nose which is a telltale sign —

“No, don’t,” you protest, giving his bicep a weak squeeze. “I’m tired of wearing turtlenecks.”

Somewhere underneath the mop of unkempt hair there comes a disagreeing hum but resentfully he abides to your wishes, travelling lower and lower, the curve of his nose tip brushing against your collarbone. The last bite is particularly harsh, reminding either you or himself of who's whose. It is a fleeting moment of possession, one necessary to upkeep the balance thus you don’t mind it so. After a good chunk of an hour, Jungkook finally disconnects, leaning back into the cramped sofa with a grin of pure victory. It is however quickly wiped away as Bam decided to make two into three, propelling all of his adult Doberman weight on top of Jungkook's back.

tagging: @pinkcherrybombs; @sukunabitch; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria; @chimchimmarie; @smalliechelle; @koostarcandy; @flitzerj; @royallyjjk; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi267; @jung-nika-hoseok; @silverliningsandstorms; @ahewlett (I hope you don't mind)

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 18 days ago

Text

House Guest

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~2.5k

Summary: You bring home a patient

A/N: Because I love pigs and want one

Warnings: Fluff, minimal angst, domesticity

Although you primarily treated cats and dogs at work, there was a rare time or two that someone would bring you an exotic pet that you were asked to treat. You usually were comfortable doing this, unless it was a snake or something with too many teeth, but today you’d been brought a pig. Their owner, a 14-year-old boy, had gotten him on Craigslist and apparently he was really sick, but the only thing you could find was that he was covered in mites.

So many mites.

You’d treated him and then tried to give him back to his owner, but apparently his mom had called and didn’t want a pig in the house. This put you in an awkward position, and after having an awkward conversation with the mother, you’d agreed to keep him for a few days. At least until the kid could get together an outdoor enclosure for his pet.

“Come on Winston. Time to go.”

So you and Winston the potbellied pig were headed home for the night. You’d had a long day and after trying to call Wanda to let her know of the plan and only getting her voicemail, you’d decided to just go home. You’re sure she’d be fine with it given that it was only for a few days.

You were mostly worried about how Fletcher would act. Boone was usually good with additions to the house just so long as you still paid attention to him. Fletcher on the other hand was a little more possessive. You were just going to have to hope that things worked out.

When you arrive home, Wanda isn’t back yet and you think about texting her to warn her, but you’re quickly distracted by Boone’s sudden appearance. You drop your phone back in your pocket and hurry to grab Winston from the ground before you shoot Boone a look.

“Boone, I brought someone home. He’s going to hang out for a few days so be nice, okay?”

Boone just sniffs the pig in your arms before you carefully set him down on the ground. Winston sniffs Boone too before he starts to wander around the living room curiously. You let him go as you set your things down and head to the kitchen. You have to make dinner, but you also have to feed the animals. You hadn’t gotten any food from Winston’s owner because he was currently feeding him potato chips and pretzels, so you’d stopped by the feed store to get a small bag for him. You find a bowl to pour it into and you let Winston sniff it before setting it down.

“Boone, no. Come here.”

You pull Boone away from Winston’s bowl and hurry to fill your dog’s bowl with a sigh. Once you see that Fletcher still has food in her bowl, you head back to the kitchen to figure out dinner for the humans. You glance at the clock and frown as you check your phone again.

Where is Wanda?

Wanda is eternally grateful that she smells something delicious as soon as she gets out of her car. She’s exhausted and a little sore from today, not to mention starving. She had breakfast when she left the house but has not eaten since. Her day had been hectic, and she’d spent too much of it chasing after a rogue employee and some ‘misplaced’ money. She’d ended up almost getting shot, and a little beaten up, but she got her money back. Not to mention the traitor was dead, so despite the exhaustion she felt right now, it wasn’t a bad day overall.

Wanda opens the door and the smell of dinner grows even stronger making her sigh contently. She shuts the door behind her and smiles at the sound of little footsteps. She sees Fletcher run up to her and she meows loudly before stretching out in front of her. Wanda leans over to pick her up with a groan. She holds her up and kisses her face before walking with her into the kitchen.

“Hi, Fletcher. How was your day? Busy too, I’m sure.”

Fletcher licks Wanda’s cheek before she breaks free and jumps on the counter. There is food still on the stove, but everything’s turned off which makes Wanda think that you finished up a while ago. She makes sure that Fletcher doesn’t stay on the counter long before she starts to head upstairs to find you.

“Y/n?”

She figures you must be resting upstairs, and as soon as she sees Boone come out of the bedroom she smiles. She greets the shepherd who yawns cavernously with a scratch behind the ears as she follows him back into the bedroom.

“Wands, in here!”

She heads down the hall toward the bedroom with a smile and pushes the door open slowly. She would love to shower before dinner, but she’s not sure she has the energy. She smiles when she sees you sitting on the ground, and she’s about to ask you how your day went when you turn around and reveal what’s in front of you.

“Hey, de—is that—why is there a pig in our bedroom?”

You sigh as you stand up and watch as Winston trots over to your wife to greet her. He snorts quietly and you can’t help but find it adorable as the duo greet each other. Well Wanda just stares at him in confusion and a little trepidation, while Winston sniffs her before moving to Boone who’s just standing behind your wife.

“This is Winston. He just needed a home for a few days while his parents figure out his housing. I tried calling you.”

Wanda hadn’t realized this given that she’d dropped and broken her phone earlier today. She goes to mention this, but she stops short and jumps slightly when she feels Winston run into her. You can’t help but laugh slightly and you don’t miss your wife’s glare as you shake your head with a sigh. You lean over to pick him up so he stops rubbing his wet nose on your wife, and you take a second to apologize for the possibly unwelcome surprise.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. He’ll stay downstairs, and –wait, what happened?”

When you stand up and are able to look more closely at Wanda you realize that she’s hurt. She has a bruise forming around her left eye and she has a busted lip. You berate yourself for not noticing this sooner, and you quickly reach out for your wife’s face. You watch her flinch slightly and your frown deepens when you realize someone had certainly hit her.

Wanda sighs in exhaustion before she shakes her head with a slight grimace. She doesn’t really want to get into it, but she knows you won’t accept no explanation at all. You’ve clearly had an interesting day, and she wants to hear about it, but she knows it will have to wait.

“Just a small confrontation is all. Nothing too exciting.”

Wanda doesn’t need to be looking at you to know that you’re shooting her an incredulous look. You open your mouth to argue, but as you spend a few seconds looking at your wife you realize how tired she is. Her eyes look weak and her shoulders are lowered as if something is weighing them down. You decide to wait and have this conversation later because you’d rather try and get Wanda to bed as fast as possible.

“More on that later, but for now, how about you shower while I get dinner ready?”

Wanda considers arguing because she doesn’t need you to wait on her, but the fatigue she feels in every muscle makes her simply nod in agreement. She smiles gratefully before leaning in to kiss you.

“Thank you, detka.”

You don’t miss how Wanda spares the pig, Winston, a glance before she disappears into the bathroom. You sigh as you look down at your temporary guest before deciding that you’ll get him settled while fixing Wanda’s dinner. You didn’t say anything because one seldom appreciated being told they looked exhausted, but Wanda looked dead on her feet. You’d be surprised if she managed to stay up long enough to eat.

For this reason, you rush out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen to make sure Wanda won’t have to wait for you. You hold Winston as you walk down the stairs because you’re afraid he’ll fall through one of the steps. When you set him down in the living room, you look to the pile of supplies you’d brought home.

You’ll deal with those in a minute.

Dinner first.

Wanda stifles a yawn as she comes downstairs twenty minutes later to find you smiling widely. She’s still wrapping her mind around the fact that there’s a pig in her house, but she figures she’ll get an explanation for that soon. She smiles as she watches you put together Winston’s pen while you ramble to the pets who are likely not listening.

“Alright Winston, you’ll sleep here tonight, okay? We’ll make sure Fletcher leaves you alone. Boone will probably watch you all night, but don’t let him worry you. He’s sweet. He doesn’t know he’s being creepy.”

The sound of Wanda laughing catches your attention, and you turn to see her sitting on the end of the couch watching you with an amused smile.

“You’re so adorable, detka.”

You almost roll your eyes, but decide that you’ll finish this up later. You stand up and kiss your wife’s cheek before you head to the kitchen to grab her dinner.

“Thanks! I’ll tell you about Winston in a minute, but first, what happened today?”

Wanda bites back a sigh as she considers the chaos that reigned for most of her day. She’s at least grateful that she can tell you that it’s resolved at this point. She focuses on this as she waits for you to bring her dinner. She had planned on following you to the kitchen, but she was quickly distracted by the pig that was sniffing his way around her living room.

She knew that you liked most animals, but she honestly never would have predicted that she’d be watching a pig wander around her house. She wonders if he’s litter trained because you’ve put a box in his pen along with some blankets and pee pads that she hopes will be enough to save the rug if push comes to shove.

“So Wands. What happened?”

Suddenly you’re in front of her again, and you’re sitting on the coffee table with a plate in your hands. You’re smiling at her despite focusing on her bruised eye. Wanda eyes the delicious smelling food in front of her, and realizes that she’s going to have to tell you what happened before she can eat. She frowns but doesn’t hesitate to shrug as she gives you a vague explanation.

“Someone who tried to shoot me only managed to punch me once…or twice.”

You frown and feel your heart skip a beat at the words that Wanda says in far too calm a tone for you to comprehend. You’re scowling by the time you hand Wanda her dinner, and you move to sit beside her with a worried look that you hide well. Well you figure your wife is focused on her food as you stare at Winston who’s sniffing the curtains at this point.

“That’s scary. Are you feeling, okay?”

You lean against Wanda before promptly sitting back up in case she’s hurt elsewhere. She simply offers you a smile before nodding in confirmation and leaning into you.

“I am. He just went for my face. The jerk.”

You can’t help but laugh at this despite the fact that your wife being hurt makes you equal parts sad and furious. You sigh as you let Wanda eat, but wrap an arm around her waist as you hold her close. You hear her sigh but the smile on her face tells you that she’s content rather than frustrated. You smile too and you kiss her cheek as you continue to watch your wife eat. You’re a little hungry too, but not enough to motivate you to stand and leave your wife’s company.

“I hope he looks worse than you do.”

Wanda doesn’t dwell on the fact, or even mention that he’s dead and she merely smiles at you before holding out her spoon for you.

“Oh definitely.”

You smile but shake your head when Wanda offers you some of her dinner. You’ll get some of your own later. Your wife doesn’t relent though and you eventually just sigh before taking a bite of the meal you spent longer than usual cooking. This was mostly because you were running around taking care of the animals, but it still turned out pretty well if you did say so yourself.

“Mmm good.”

Wanda grins before setting down her spoon and placing the plate in her lap. You reach out for your wife and turn her face toward you to get a better look at her bruises. You kiss the purpling skin before planting another kiss on her nose which makes Wanda giggle. The sound makes your heart race and you’re still smiling when Wanda leans in to kiss you.

She pulls away sooner than you want mostly because she doesn’t want her food to get knocked over. She watches you pout, but she grabs your hands and squeezes them with a curious look that steals your attention.

“So tell me about your pig friend.”

Wanda watches as you light up at the question, and she listens silently as you describe your day. It’s not until you start to apologize that Wanda cuts you off because despite the surprise she doesn’t mind. Hopefully nothing that happens tonight will change her mind.

“I should have waited until you called, but they looked so hopeful when I suggested they find someone to watch him for a few days. I had already expressed my interest in pigs, and told them about a thousand times how cute he was…I’m sorry Wands. If you want, I can try to figure--.”

You stop short when Wanda shakes her head before she relocates her plate to the coffee table. She shoots Boone a look and the shepherd just whines before she turns her attention back to you. You nearly yelp as Wanda pulls you into her lap, and the redhead laughs as you glare at her in faux annoyance.

“It’s okay, Y/n he’s kinda cute. You said he’s litter trained?”

You smile before nodding toward the litter that Winston’s kicking at right now. You’d left the pen open and he wandered in to do his business apparently. You laugh when he finishes and kicks his back legs as he jumps out of the box. You feel your heart melt a little when he plops down on the bed of blankets you set up for him. Wanda watches you fawn over Winston with a loving smile and for a second, she thinks that she’d be okay with you having a pet pig.

But only for a second.

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #silver springs drabble #silver springs #mob au

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jasmineoolongtea · 5 months ago

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Okay I have a weird request but since you're so good at writing I'm gonna shoot my shot lol. No pressure though! How about a huge misunderstanding between reader and jjk men (and boys), where one is somehow convinced the other is cheating (tho they're not and are totally loyal!) and it causes a big argument with one of them walking out and saying "I'm done." But then when they realise there was no cheating going on it's soft and sweet and full of apology? You can add whoever you'd like, though would love to see Gojo, Geto and Nanami!

a/n: hii anon thank you for your compliments <333 honestly when i saw the words 'weird request' i was thinking in a completely different direction from this but this request is totally normal so do not worry about it at all !!! also so sorry this took a while to get out back to you anon i had to study for and take my driver's licence test ;-; hope i can do your request justice and hope you enjoy it !!!

if anyone had asked gojo satoru what he thought of his relationship, his answer would undoubtedly be that it was rock solid, that nothing could ever phase the two of you, not even the end of the world, and he would probably take off with a skip in his step as he makes his way to go shower you in affection.

so then, if that was true, why was there a pang of an ugly and uncomfortable feeling making its way up his throat at the sight of someone else's jacket wrapped around your figure.

"i'm home, toru!" you cheerily announce, as usual, exhaustion from the day melting off your body as you shed your belongings at the entryway to your apartment. it's been a long day and there's nothing more that you would like to do than to slink back into bed and into your lover's forever warm embrace.

however, unlike usual, satoru does not greet you with a bright grin to sweep you up in his arms and pepper your face with kisses. instead, he stands motionless in the hallway, his face a mixture of emotions. he doesn't meet your eyes, choosing to glare at the new unfamiliar article of clothing with a sense of contempt.

eerily, satoru is silent. you can't help but attempt to shake off the feeling that something's wrong.

"what's that?" he asks, monotone, his voice is devoid of its typical energy and affection like you're nothing more than a stranger, or perhaps something even worse.

"oh, this?" you look down at yourself and suddenly remember that you were still wearing your co-worker's jacket. "ah right, i forgot a co-worker gave this to me earlier when i was complaining that the ac was too cold." you remark, brushing past him as you move to hang up the jacket on the apartment's coat rack.

you hum absent-mindedly to yourself as you do, thinking to yourself that satoru just probably had a rough day, no thanks to the higher-ups of course, and that was the reason for his strange demeanour today. your back is facing towards him as you pipe up, "remind me tomorrow to return this to him when i head for work."

'him', a bitter taste fills his mouth. there's a heaviness at the bottom of his gut, one that threatens to pull him down with it the more he thinks about it. he soon realises what this feeling is; it's jealousy, an emotion that he thought he was better than, that is gnawing its way into his mind and his vision becomes clouded. he grits his teeth, his jaw tense up.

"right, of course, you're in such a hurry to see him again." he scoffs off-handily to himself. there's a bitter edge to his words and this doesn't go by unnoticed by you.

you turn to face him fully, your lips drawn into a tight line. there's a hidden insinuation lying behind his words, one that you don't necessarily appreciate. "what are you trying to imply here, satoru?"

he decides it would be better to spit it out than to let it fester there on the tip of his tongue. "are you seeing someone else?"

your jaw drops at his accusation. "are you serious? is this really how you see me satoru?" you question, your beautiful face twisting into an expression of deep pain.

a wave of regret instantly washes over him.

satoru doesn't respond and you take his silence as his answer. your throat suddenly feels tight as you choke out, "look, if you're really going to be like this. i-i don't think i can do this anymore." you turn away from him, making your way towards the entrance as you hurriedly scoop up your belongs in a half hazard manner.

you're unsure on whether or not it's sadness or anger that's tugging at your heart right now but what you do know is that there's a sense of betrayal that lingers in the air.

"wait." he pleads, the previous stupid jealousy he might have felt before is long gone by now and all he's left with is the burning pain of regret. if there was an option to undo everything he just said he would take it in a heartbeat.

he reaches out to you and makes a desperate last attempt to stop you from leaving by holding onto your wrist. "please, wait can we talk this out?"

his much larger hand engulfs your wrist and you can't deny how pained his voice sounds and how it tugs at your heart, begging you to stay, but then you remember how fresh the pain was of being accused by someone you thought would be able to trust you wholeheartedly and so, you shrug him off.

"i'm done. goodbye, satoru." you walk out as the door slams closed behind you, leaving him alone to stew in regret.

it's been 10 hours since you left, rightfully so with how he was behaving like an insecure ass to you, and it's been 4 hours of failed attempts to sleep off the ache he feels growing in his chest. he doesn't know why he had acted like that, accusing you of such things completely unwarranted and maybe if he was going to be more purposefully obtuse, he might blame it on the green-eyed monster but even he knows that it would just be a poor deflection of blame.

exhausted from hours of self-inflicted insomnia, he rolls out of bed and stares at the mess of white sheets left in your wake. satoru always slept better when he was with you and now he's just gone and ruined one of the best things he's ever had.

would it be so terrible if he put aside his pride to go begging for your forgiveness for his stupidness? he sure as hell doesn't deserve it right now but he knows that he'll hate himself forever if he never tries. and so, that's how satoru finds himself at your doorstep, soaking wet from the rain and knocking on your door.

against all odds, you answer, though obviously just barely having escaped the clutches of sleep as you rub your eyes tiredly. you're greeted with the sight of him standing at your door and all the conflicting feelings that you tried to bury away previously come crawling back up.

"...what are you doing here, satoru? it's like 2am." you're completely drained and not in the mood for a screaming match if that is what he's here for.

he looks haggard in all senses of the word. his hair is tousled in a sweaty mess from tossing and turning around a bed that feels way too empty with wisps of white hair clinging to his forehead. his clothes are dishevelled in a way which tells you he just threw on the first thing he found in his haste to make it to your apartment and the skin under his eyes is hollowed out as he stares at you with red-rimmed eyes.

gojo satoru looks defeated, to say the least.

"i'm sorry, for everything," he starts off, his chest heaves up and down with shaky breaths. you're not sure if it's him shivering from the rain or just his nerves. "truly deeply sorry." his voice is totally devoid of malice and instead it's more like the satoru you know and love but with a new found rawness and vulnerability to it.

you're not sure what to say, avoiding his gaze as best as you can as you fidget with the sleeves of your hoodie, the one that you stole from him ages ago. he notices that and there's a flutter of hope in his heart, but he pushes on with his apology, choosing to not let himself get carried away with that.

"i'm stupid, okay? i'm a monumental idiot." you laugh slightly at that. he takes that as a good sign and that ball of hope within him grows a little stronger. satoru takes a deep sigh, as if to steady himself before continuing.

"i don't know why i said that and you don't deserve any of those thoughts or accusations okay? hell, i'm pretty sure i don't deserve you with how i've been acting today. you don't need to forgive me or anything but i just want you to know i'm sorry."

"satoru-"

"-and i know that and if you want to punch me or kick me to the curb that's also completely fine. i won't blame you i pro-" he's suddenly cut off by the tug of his t-shirt and the feeling of soft, warm lips, your lips, against his as he falls into an awe-struck silence. your lips part from his and he already feels that he's gone on for too long without them.

you smile at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling slightly and he can feel all of the regret that was eating him alive before melting away, like fallen snow when the spring sun makes its glorious return back to earth. "yes, i forgive you, you massive fool. you're definitely an idiot but you're my idiot."

he takes your hands in his and brings them up to his lips, whispering into them,

"that's right, i'm yours."

you know the phrase 'seeing is believing'? yeah, geto suguru thinks that's probably one of the dumbest phrases he's ever had the pleasure, or displeasure in this case, of hearing. there's a lot of things that you can't see but you can still believe in; an example would be gravity. you don't need to see it to know that it exists and believe in it so why is visual confirmation the default that people go to?

that is until he saw you in the arms of someone else and maybe, in that moment, he realised that the phrase might have more merit to it than he had originally placed on it.

honestly, you were already having an awful day. you had just barely the train to your work by the millisecond so you were left waiting around for 5 minutes before the next train came and much to your chagrin, you were left standing for the entirety of the 20-minute journey and had officially arrived at your workplace late.

to pile on to that, you remembered that you had very conveniently forgotten all of the things you needed to bring in for that very specific day and had to do the whole journey again to avoid incurring the wrath of your boss.

and the cherry on top? it was running into that co-worker that you hated with all your guts and getting their coffee spilt on your very nice white shirt, whether intentionally or unintentionally you'll deal with that issue later.

however, this left you with an embarrassing large stain right front and centre for the rest of the day until the universe decided to grant you a small mercy by having your other co-worker offer you a spare change of clothes which you gratefully accepted. as you did, you could feel the pointed stares of the other members of your workplace burning angry holes through your back which only left you with an unsettling feeling in your gut. albeit, you brushed it off quickly as you couldn't really linger on the issue.

it was always like this when you two interacted in both a friendly and professional capacity. the occasion or even context of the interaction didn't matter to the rest of them when all they saw was the office crush acting nice with you and you reciprocating this niceness to an extent that made them seethe with jealousy over the fact that it wasn't them.

maybe they should learn that they could get his respect by treating him as a person rather than an object to fawn over but again, that was a conversation for another day and they should have known that you only had eyes for one man, in the form of your boyfriend suguru, anyways.

suguru wasn't someone who was super public about his affection for you with grand displays of PDA, but what mattered to you and him was that he showed in ways that were important to both of you and that was enough.

that was why he found himself standing at the door of your workplace, a small bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand, waiting to surprise you and pick you up the moment you were done with your shift. he leans against the cool surface of the cement wall behind him and imagines the delighted look on your face when you see him there. his lips curve into a slight smile at that mental image.

he glances at the watch on his wrist, a present from you from a previous anniversary and one he treasured deeply as evidenced by the fact that there was barely a scratch on its glass shell, and silently counts down the minutes in his head. while lost in his own thoughts, he fails to notice a group of employees passing by him though he does manage to pick up bits and pieces of their fleeting conversation.

"can you believe them? throwing themself all over him like that?" one voice chides.

"i know right? it's like they have no shame at all." another adds bitterly.

"you know, it makes me think that there's something going on between them." and that earns them a chorus of agreement from their little group.

suguru pays them little mind though, believing it to be just simple office gossip that he could care less about unless it was coming from you, then he would be hooked on every single detail you fed him like his life depended on it. he hears footsteps from around the corner and notes an all-too-familiar giggle as the people emerge. it's you and he walks forward a bit more to see if he can spot you.

however, he's greeted with an awful sight. the source of your melodic laughter appears to be the man standing next to you and before you two part, he leans down to give you a hug, one that you seemingly receive with open arms. there's a sinking sensation at the bottom of his stomach when he watches the both of you linger for a second.

when you part, not before thanking your co-worker again for his kindness, you turn around and notice suguru standing a few metres in front of you. "sugu? what are you doing here?" you ask, pleasantly surprised by his sudden appearance and you light up with happiness at the sight of him. you stop in your tracks when you realise he hasn't made a single move to greet you.

the smile on your face drops slightly as your eyebrows furrow in concern for his strange stillness. you take a step closer towards him but he remains still as a statue. there's the sound of crumpled paper as his grip tightens around the bouquet that he's still holding.

you're both silent for a second before he speaks up.

"are you cheating on me?" though his question is straightforward, his tone is unsure.

he doesn't want to believe that you could be doing that but he can't help but draw his own conclusions about what he just saw, especially in light of the comments he overheard which now suddenly make sense if he looks at them from this newfound angle.

a look of betrayal flickers through your eyes at his words. there's an undeniable bitter aftertaste in his mouth that he can't swallow down.

"is that you really think this is?" there's a pained edge to your voice and you can feel an uncomfortable tightness around your throat as you try to fight back the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"suguru, i would never do that! we're just co-workers, don't you believe me?" he doesn't look at you, choosing to actively avoid your gaze instead and you can feel yourself faltering as the grim reality of the situation dawns on you with solemn resignation.

"you know, suguru, i've had a really awful day today and this is not helping at all. i'm done with this. goodbye, suguru." and before he can say anything, you brush past him as you make your way to god knows where. as you walk off, he finally realises that the sinking feeling in his stomach is regret.

after you dissapear into the twisting streets, suguru is overwhelmed with this awful feeling of regret as he realises how rash he was in jumping to a conclusion that had no basis aside from some stupid off-handed comments he overheard and a hug that could very well just be only friendly and nothing more. all he can think about is apologising to you and hopefully finding a way back into your good graces again.

unfortunately for him, you've turned off your phone so he can't even call you to find out where you are but even if it was on, he doubts that you would even pick up and that is definitely deserved on his behalf. he stops and thinks to himself for a moment and decides to take a chance on the first place he can come up with.

thankfully, his gut is right and he finds you sitting on a grassy hill, your grassy hill with him, absent-mindedly plucking up strands of grass before discarding them. there's the sound of grass crunching underneath shoe soles as suguru takes his place next to you.

"what are you doing here, suguru?" you're not looking at him and he can feel a pang of pain in his chest.

"had a feeling you would be here."

you scoff half-heartedly. a shaky breath escapes your lips as you turn to him, your eyes are slightly red-rimmed and there's an unmistakable shimmery glean to your cheeks from your tears. another tug of his heart. "what do you want? because it seemed like you were pretty much done with me at that point."

"i want to apologise." there's a look of surprise on your face as you turn to him and he continues, his voice raw and vulnerable as he continues, "i want to say sorry for taking and not even listening to the most important side of the story, you. so please, and spare no details, tell me what happened today."

you pause for a second as if to consider his words and examine his sincerity, and then you nod and he can feel a sigh of relief leave him. as you relay to him the true details of your day, you notice how his expression becomes more and more apologetic as the facts of the story finally come to light.

he leans against your shoulders and envelops you in his arms. you reciprocate his touch, snaking your own arms around his waist and he sinks his head into the crook of your neck.

"i can't stress how sorry i am." his voice is muffled against your collarbone as you rest your chin upon his head. his hand finds yours and squeezes your hand reassuringly.

"you know you have a lot to make up for right?" he looks up at you, violet eyes gazing into your own, and hums in agreement as he places a soft kiss against your hand.

"anything for you, angel."

nanami kento was a man who believed that it was his duty to silently bear all of the things that came his way, no matter the cost, and this made him someone that many people could always rely on which has earned him a similar reputation in many facets of his life. unfortunately, this benefit did not extend to his relationship.

you knew all this when you got into a relationship with him including his workaholic tendencies and so you were never too disappointed when a dinner for two would turn into a dinner for one.

even if they became more frequent, you would always be able to go to sleep with the knowledge that you would wake up next to a head of blonde hair and a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist as the steady beat of your two hearts in sync filled the relative silence of your shared bedroom.

until, one day, you began to wake up cold and alone, lost within the expanses of the sheets without his arms there to tether you to a world with him by your side. the only shreds of evidence that he was actually there and not just a figment of your touch-starved imagination was the slight indent of the mattress left in his wake and a messily scribbled note which read 'woke up early for work, breakfast is in the fridge.' which felt just as cold and devoid of affection as the room you currently were in.

phone calls became less frequent as well and seeing kento in the flesh was more like trying to find a four-leafed clover in a field full of clovers. explanations were short and choppy and to you, they felt like simply a courtesy on his part rather than genuine truths.

with his presence fading even more and more from the apartment and your life, you couldn't help but start to wonder if there was more behind these excuses and perhaps, he had decided to move on from you and onto someone else. these worries even followed you from your waking hours into your dreams and so you made your mind up to stay up and wait for his return to finally confront him about his behaviour.

now sitting there at your kitchen table, fingers absent-mindedly drumming against the wood surface as you anxiously watch the seconds tick down on the clock and await his arrival. tick tock, tick tock. the sound of the clock echoes off the walls of the apartment.

there's an uncomfortable ball of anxiety gnawing at the insides of your stomach. if the truth didn't kill you, the waiting was definitely going to be the one to put the final nail in your coffin at this point.

much to your relief, or worst fears, there's a jangle of keys coming from outside the door and it soon cracks open to reveal a very tired and worn down kento as he makes his way into the apartment and begins to unload his belongings in the entryway. he's halfway through with removing his suit jacket when he finally notices you sitting there, stone-faced aside from your lips which you nervously bite at, and a worried sigh escapes him.

he makes his way towards you and takes a seat opposite from you. under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen, you're able to get a much better look at him and while his hair is perfectly styled back as usual, there's an air of exhaustion radiating from him as you take note of the darkness of his eyebags and the seemingly permanent grimace that he sports, a far cry from the looks of domestic bliss that you would always be greeted with previously.

"what are you doing up so late, my love? you should be asleep by now or else you'll be tired tomorrow for work." his voice is full of concern for your well-being when it should be the least of his worries at this point with how burnt out he was. you're pretty sure that his cheekbones are more pronounced from the lack of full meals rather than simply his genetics.

a pang of guilt hits you in your gut, of course, he's still so fixated on you taking care of yourself when he clearly is the one who needs the advice even more, but you know that this needs to come out sooner or later. you steel yourself with a shaky breath.

"where have you been?" you ask, uncharacteristically cold. he can tell that there's something off with you but he chooses not to comment or push on it.

"i've been at work, trying to finish something for the higher-ups before tomorrow." his tone is straightforward and blunt and you can't tell if he's giving you a rehearsed answer or a truthful one.

you look down at your hands. "is that really all it is?"

"what do you mean?" his eyebrows furrow in confusion. you're not sure if this is genuine confusion or if he's just playing you for a fool.

you sigh, exhausted. you can feel the corners of your eyes start to burn with tears but you attempt to blink them away to the best of your ability. "i can't take these late nights and weak excuses anymore, kento. if there's someone else, i would rather you just say it."

he doesn't say anything and you grit your teeth as you solemnly accept that as his answer. you quickly stand up from your seat but before you can go anywhere, you're stopped in your tracks by the feeling of his calloused hands on your forearm.

"wait, please, dear-" he pleads softly.

"i'm done, kento." you cut him off before he can say anything else but he strides over to you and places a hand on your shoulder.

"love, please." he implores, his brown eyes full of sincerity as he tries his best to convince you to hear him out. "please, stay and let me explain, just for a minute and that's all." you don't pull away from his touch and he offers you a grateful smile.

"the late nights and overtime are to save some time off for a vacation. a vacation with you." before you could even open your mouth to speak, he silently stops you with a gentle caress to the cheek and manages to render you both speechless and breathless in a single move. "i know you're worried about me overworking myself so i wanted to surprise you and finally make my promises to you come true."

you're instantly hit with a sense of regret as you realise that your overthinking and fear might have cost you something so precious and at the thought of potentially having lost him, you can't help but throw yourself into his open embrace and bury your face into the rumpled fabric of his button up.

a soothing hand finds its way to your back as he attempts to comfort you. he's so good to you and sometimes you wonder if you really deserve it. "i'm sorry, ken. i shouldn't be jumping to conclusions and accusing you of such things." you confess, your voice slightly muffled against his chest. "you've been nothing but kind and loving to me and all i can say is that i'm sorry."

"it's alright, my dear. i should be sorry as well. i shouldn't have been so guarded when you're asking even if it's for a surprise." he adds himself and then there's the fleeting warmth of his lips against your forehead before his arms tighten their grip around you as if to reassure you that he wasn't going anywhere.

"so you're not mad at me, kento?" you ask gingerly, glancing at his face to find a fond expression looking back down at you, not a single bit of anger or annoyance to be detected on any of his features.

"you, dear? i could never be angry at you."

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