#anyway I’m looking for people to scream about them with

[reysdriver]

Apple Of My Eye | E.M.

You and your coworker Eddie finally do something about your longtime mutual crush when he asks you out after a wild day at work — line cook!eddie x waitress!reader fluff

warnings: customer service nightmares, reader cries over it, I think that's it actually

words: 4.8k

The last thing you heard before shutting the walk-in freezer door behind you was a pan dropping to the floor and Eddie cursing loudly at no one in particular. You sat down with your back against a sack of potatoes beside the vegetable shelf. 

The tears that pricked at your eyes were free to run down your face now that you were in the privacy of the walk-in. It’s always been a good place to cry or scream if you were frustrated at work. 

You were slightly startled by the heavy door opening, but you knew you shouldn’t be; other people worked here too, of course. 

It was Eddie walking in, looking frustrated, though his expression softened when he locked eyes with you. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” He asked, letting the door close as he sat down next to you.

You scooted a bit to make more room for Eddie, but still brushed him off.

“I’m okay.” You sniffled, looking down at your feet. “Don’t you have a whole bunch of orders to fill?”

“You know I’m never too busy for you.” He replied, which earned a smile from you. 

It was a true thing, Eddie would always take the time, even in the busiest of rush hours, to compliment you, or make you a special plate of fries, or just let you know that your makeup had smudged in all the haste. 

He never did it with anyone else, not to the same level, at least. All your coworkers used that as proof that he had a thing for you in the same way that you did for him, but you never believed them. 

“So, what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

There he goes, using that nickname that makes your heart soar. Now how could you not answer him after he asked as nicely as that?

“Some asshole got mad at me ‘cause I forgot he asked for no vegetables on his burger. He was calling me dumb and saying I’m a bad waitress and—”

“You’re not.” Eddie told you. “Don’t listen to him.”

 One look at Eddie’s pretty brown eyes told you he was being completely sincere, but you were still upset. 

“He was so mean, and he was kind of right.” You protested. 

Eddie shook his head. “Trust me, he’s not. You’re the only coworker I can stand, so you must be doing something right. Plus you just got your degree, so you’re not dumb.”

“It was community college, Eddie.”

“More than I have. Are you calling me dumb?” He nudged you slightly as he teased, and he was finally cheering you up. 

“No.” You shook your head, a bashful smile starting on your face. 

“Good.” He smiled too, happy that his mission of cheering you up was complete. “Now, I would wipe your tears, but my hands are probably covered in oil so I’m gonna need you to do it for me, okay?”

You nodded and used your index finger to wipe the tears under your eyes and on your cheeks. 

The line cook had his eyes trained on you when you looked up back at him, your eyes still glossy but your spirits higher. 

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better.” You admitted with a soft smile. “Thank you, Eddie.”

“Anytime, princess.” He attempted to stifle a groan as he stood up, then stopped before opening the metal door. “I’ll tell Robin to cover your tables for a bit, so don’t worry about getting back to work. You can stay here as long as you want.”

After thanking him again, he flashed you a smile before exiting the freezer room. 

You stayed sitting there, replaying the conversation you just had once over in your head. Once you felt you were composed, you dusted off your clothes and reentered the kitchen. 

Though, as soon as you left the freezer, you could hear shouting coming from the front of house and you knew exactly who it was. 

See, after Eddie left the freezer, when you were busy wiping your tears, Eddie rifled through the receipts to find exactly the guy who made you cry. Not that he needed it anyways, it was obvious who the asshole was when he walked out to the tables and saw some angry looking loser picking at his french fries. 

Now Eddie was in the middle of shaming the man in front of the whole diner. 

Customers had their heads turned to watch the public scolding, and all the staff had paused their duties to stare from the sides of the room as well. 

“What the hell’s the matter with you? You’re a grown man and you can’t even bear to pick some tomatoes off your burger? You need to whine about the lingering taste of fuckin’ lettuce and make your poor waitress feel like shit?!” Eddie shouted at the guy you were serving. “You better give her one hell of an apology, you hear me?!”

The man nodded pathetically, clearly shaken by the cook’s rant. He probably couldn’t muster up an agreement even if he tried. 

Robin, who you had stood next to while watching Eddie chew that customer out, turned to you. She hardly looked flustered at all, since she was used to the diner’s usual activities. 

“And you still doubt that he likes you back.” She whispered with a smugly raised eyebrow. 

Eddie looked around the room for a moment and noticed you were there. With an outstretched hand and a soft voice, he beckoned you towards him and the man at the booth. 

“Sweetheart, can you come over here for a second?” He asked, ever so politely. 

You obliged and walked over to him, holding your breath as the threat of crying again was still there. 

Standing at the end of the table, Eddie’s gaze panned from you to the slightly terrified man sitting down. 

“Now’s the time for that apology, dickwad.” Your coworker gritted. 

The man struggled to look you in the eyes as he stuttered out some words of regret. “I’m sorry— Er, I’m sorry for complaining about the burger and saying all that rude stuff, too. I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you.”

The line cook looked over at you, gauging your reaction. “How was that?”

You nodded and flashed him a tiny smile, then told the customer that you accepted his apology. 

“Good.” Eddie declared. “Now I’ll go make you a plain, boring burger. And if you’re really sorry then this pretty girl better see a damn good tip when you finish your meal, got it?”

The man nodded meekly once again, and Eddie seemed satisfied with that. He walked back on over to the kitchen while you made your way to your other tables, and the rest of the diner resumed eating and conversing—definitely discussing what just happened.

For the rest of his meal, the man was nice to you. Avoidant for sure, but nice nevertheless. And when he paid, he left a whopping twenty dollar tip and left in a hurry. 

Now that the lunch rush was over, you checked the kitchen for Eddie, then Jonathan informed you that he was out back taking a smoke break. 

You thanked him, and headed to the back exit of the building where you knew the cook spent a part of every shift. Sure enough, he was standing right next to the door with a cigarette in hand. 

“Hey, princess,” Eddie said, exhaling a cloud of smoke away from you. “what are you doing back here?”

You smiled at him and fished the twenty dollar bill out of your pocket to display it. “That guy you yelled at left me a pretty nice tip. Here, it’s yours.”

He shook his head and held out a hand to gesture that he couldn’t take it. “No way, you deserve it. Fuckin’ least you should get after having to deal with that asshole.”

You laughed at his dismissal and tried offering again. 

“Come on, you practically mugged that guy to get this money, you have to take it.”

He looked at you with a slight grin, but you couldn’t decide if his expression was that of smugness or entertainment. 

“You can hold out that cash until your wrist falls off, I won’t take your money.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, sincere but still purposefully overdramatic. You put the bill back in your apron and quickly counted out ten ones that you had earned from other tables, then held those out instead. 

“You should at least have half. I can’t let you leave with nothing. If you don’t take it now, I’ll follow you around all day, begging you to take it.” 

Eddie cocked his head to the side and smiled. “As tempting as that is, sweetheart, I can’t steal you away from your job like that. I’ll take that money, but I’ll be spending it on you.” 

Your heart fluttered at Eddie’s flirting, which was far less subtle than usual. You had to bite the tip of your tongue to prevent yourself from grinning ear-to-ear. 

He reached out to take the cash, but he was still grinning mischievously. 

“With my half of the cash, I wanna take you on a date, if you’ll let me.”

Holy shit. You never thought he’d ask. And you had expected even less that he would ask in such a gentlemanly manner. Eddie was the type of guy to accidentally tell his boss to fuck off after coming into work hungover, not use the phrase ‘if you’ll let me’. 

“I’d like that.” You responded, way more chill than you had expected your reaction to be. “Anything you have in mind?”

“You trying to expose the fact that I’ve thought about this before?” Eddie smirked, which in turn caused you to blush even more than before. “What time do you get off work tonight?”

“Seven, and you?”

“Same. We can rent a movie and I can make you dinner at my place?” 

Shit, Eddie thought, I don’t remember the state I left my trailer in. 

He tried recalling how messy he left his home, quickly so he could take back the offer if needed. 

“Yeah, sounds great.” 

Too late now. But as nervous as he was for you to walk into his trailer and see a bunch of dirty dishes and laundry piles, the feeling of glee he felt because you said yes was trumping that a hundred times over. 

“Perfect.” Eddie said, stamping out his burnt cigarette. He opened the door back to the restaurant and held it open so you could go first. “After you.”

“Thanks.” You said, barely able to hide your giddy grin. “I gotta get back to my tables, but I’ll see you at seven.”

You both parted ways with matching smiles, hoping the rest of your shifts fly by faster than usual. For the rest of the day, you seemed to have an extra pep in your step while you waited tables. 

As seven o’clock approached, you passed off all your tables to other coworkers, told Steve and Robin you wouldn’t need a ride home, and headed to the washroom to fix your hair and touch up your makeup. 

Once you were satisfied, you headed to the locker room, where Eddie was standing casually against his own locker. His bored expression morphed into a bright look when he saw you walk in. 

“Hey.” Eddie said as you opened your locker and put away your apron. “Ready to go?” 

You nodded, and he opened the door for you once again. Such a gentleman when he wants to be. 

“So, any movie ideas?” He asked as you both got into his van. 

“Something fun.” You told him. “Maybe something like Ferris Bueller's Day Off or Splash?” 

“Anything you want.”

For the ride over to the video store, you listened to the radio—a station with both pop and rock—and chatted about everything under the sun. 

Once you got to Family Video, you headed towards the comedy section whereas Eddie got distracted by a display of staff picks near the front. He called your name, and you turned around to see him holding up The Texas Chain Saw Massacre with a simper. 

“This can be fun, don’t you think?”

You shook your head. “Not if we’re eating tonight. I’ll throw up everywhere. And that’s not the kind of thing that earns a second date.”

He put it down and walked towards the aisle you were standing in. “So you’re already thinking about a second date, huh?” 

You rolled your eyes and went back to browsing the shelves. Your eyes landed on a familiar favourite, so you grabbed it and held it up to show Eddie. 

“Clue, huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you couldn’t do murder movies?”

“No, I just said I couldn’t do that one. This one is hilarious and agreeable.”

“Alright. Hand it over, I already promised to pay for whatever you want.”

You give the tape to him like he asked and you both walk over to the cashier, a teenager who looked extremely disdainful about his job. Eddie pulled out some of the cash you had made him take earlier and placed it on the counter. 

Once the transaction was over, you thanked both Eddie and the bored worker, then you headed back out to Eddie’s car. 

“So, what meal are you going to spend the remaining five dollars and something cents on?” You asked him, buckling yourself as he rolled out of the parking lot. 

Eddie always hated his seatbelt, but he put it on after you—’cause of that damn new law they put in last year.

“I’ll put that in my pocket and save it for the next date. I already have all I need for dinner at home.”

You hummed, slightly surprised. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” You shrugged. “I just wouldn’t have pegged you as a chef outside of the diner. You always seem like you’re done with cooking forever when you clock out.”

“You’ve got me there.” Eddie responds. “I only cook at home when it’s for someone else. When I’m alone, my meals are mostly toast and canned pasta.”

“So who else were you planning on cooking for? You said you have all those ingredients.” That was half teasing, half genuinely curious about Eddie’s personal life. 

“My uncle, actually. I cook him dinner once a week, mostly ‘cause it proves to him that I can eat healthy.”

“That’s really sweet.”

“What can I say?” Eddie shrugged dramatically. “I’m just a sweet guy.”

Once you arrived at Eddie’s trailer, he was relieved to open the door and see that his place hadn’t been left in shambles. The place wasn’t as neat as he would like for a first date—especially one with you—but it was good enough. 

“So, this is it.” Eddie said, arms outstretched like a real estate agent. “You want a tour or is that just for stuffy old people?”

“I’ll take a tour.”

Eddie was kind of hoping you didn’t say that. The trailer was small and he was a little embarrassed. But he supposed it was his own fault for asking in the first place. 

“Alright. Here’s the living room, it’s where I smoke and watch TV.” 

You let out a giggle at the bluntness of his tour. He was glad his joke (half-joke) didn’t fall flat. 

“And you can follow me three feet to the kitchen, which is where I make good meals for others and crap for myself.”

He opened a cupboard full of canned food and snacks for the realtor effect, then did the same with the fridge. He waved a hand near it like a magician showing off a box that no longer contains a woman in a sparkly leotard. 

“We can then move on to the bathroom. It’s got a shower with mediocre water pressure, a pretty average toilet, and a sink that’s covered in toothpaste—don’t look at that, actually.”

You kept walking to the only other real room in the trailer, his bedroom. It was about the size of the kitchen area, and it was very distinctly Eddie. All the walls were covered floor-to-ceiling in posters for metal bands and movies he likes, every surface was covered in snack boxes and ashtrays, and he had one incredibly cool guitar hanging in the middle of his wall. 

After staring at the room for so long that you probably had at least one wall memorised, you and Eddie both realised you hadn’t spoken in a while. 

“This is where the magic happens.” Eddie said, not quite as smoothly as he was going for. 

“The magic?” You teased. 

He thought for a second, then clarified. “Not that kind of magic. I just make music and write Dungeons & Dragons campaigns.”

“That can be pretty magical.” You shrugged. 

“Yeah, but not as magical as the dinner I’m about to make for you. If you’re not excited already, you should start.”

You both left his bedroom and Eddie instructed you to relax in the living room and turn on the TV to something you could use as a backdrop while Eddie cooked. 

While he made dinner, you sat comfortably on his couch and chatted with him from the other room. You got to know each other, more than you do at work. Eddie told you about his band and how they play at The Hideout, you told him about your time at community college and your friends outside of the diner. 

“Alright, soup’s on.” Eddie announced, setting two plates on his kitchen table and inviting you over. “Actually, it’s not soup, it’s chicken parm.”

“I appreciate the clarification.” You sat down in the seat closest to you. “It looks good. Smells amazing too.”

And it really was as amazing as it seemed. Although you were no stranger to Eddie’s cooking, all you’ve ever had made by him was diner food. Of course, the diner food was great, but this was another level. You weren’t sure what set it apart; maybe it was just the quality ingredients and lack of yelling while cooking. 

Once your plate was almost empty, Eddie asked if you wanted dessert too. You were slightly confused as you hadn’t seen him make any dessert to go along with the meal, but you agreed anyway. 

“Did you make dessert?” You asked after he stood up. 

“Nope, but I’ve got all the ingredients, so I can make it now.”

“Oh.” You suddenly felt bad, even though he already offered and went through with making you food. “Well, I don’t want to put you out. We can just watch—”

“It’s okay. I don’t have the ingredients for anything fancy. Just the simple stuff.”

That made you feel a little better. You were still curious, but for a different reason now. What could Eddie make quickly to pair with that fantastic dinner. 

You watched as he pulled out Oreos and gummy worms. Was he making a child’s favourite snack as your dessert?

“What are you planning there?” You asked him. 

Then you saw him open the fridge and pull out chocolate pudding cups, then it all clicked in your head. 

Holy shit. Worms and Dirt. 

That was absolutely not what you were expecting, but it was definitely a welcome surprise. 

“I was thinking about just serving up sliced apples and peanut butter along with some cheesy pick-up line like ‘you’re the apple of my eye’, but I figured that would scare you away.” 

“I don’t think that would scare me away.” You told him. “In fact, I would have found it cute. But I’m happy with the pudding.”

Eddie was quite flattered by that, though he tried hard to not let it show. You could definitely see a blush on his cheeks and the corners of his lips turning upwards, as much as he covered it up.

“You ever had Worms and Dirt?” He asked, opening up the Oreo pack. 

“Yeah.” You answered from your seat at the table while he scraped off the cookie filling. “My mom used to make it for me when I was a kid.”

Eddie stopped preparing the food for a second as he turned and gave you a genuine smile. 

“Me too.” 

After that, Eddie went back to making the dessert, the happy expression still lingering on his lips. 

“I’m almost done, do you want to pop the movie in while I’m finishing up?”

You nodded, then waltzed over to the living room to start up Clue. While the opening credits rolled, Eddie took a seat next to you on the couch and spread out a couple bowls and several pudding cups on his coffee table. 

He handed you a spoon and gestured to the setup in front of you two. 

“I figured we could do like a make-your-own thing, just ‘cause I always find one is never enough, and then you can choose your portions, you know?”

You hummed in agreement. “It’s a pretty good idea.”

Eddie then pointed to the bowl in between the cookie crumble and gummy worms. Inside that one was the creme filling he had just scraped out of the Oreos. 

“Oh, and that’s for you.” 

Just like Eddie earlier, you were super flattered but didn’t want to show your cards. You thanked him for saving you the best part, and then the two of you made your desserts and brought your attention to the movie. 

Somewhere along the way while watching it, you and Eddie had moved from your spots on opposite ends of the couch to meeting somewhere in the middle, wrapped up with each other. 

You were pressed against his side with a hand on his back and an arm around his abdomen. He had his arm slung around your shoulder, and you liked it. He liked it too. And truth be told, you had both pictured yourself before in this exact position—among others. 

As Wadsworth dramatically ran through each murder and event of the night, Eddie subtly looked down to see your entertained expression trained on the TV screen. 

Even though Eddie quite liked the movie you were watching, he liked you more. He was trying to think of a way to make a bigger move on you instead of actually paying attention. 

He was about to do it too. Just as his hands started to wander, there was a knock at his front door that caused you both to back off of each other and turn your heads that way. 

“It’s probably just some kid looking for weed. I’ll be back in a second, you don’t need to pause it.” Eddie told you as he stood up.

“Okay. Hurry up or you’ll miss the ending!” You told him. 

He opened the door and sure enough, it was a kid looking for weed. Some high schooler, maybe seventeen years old. In one hand, he had a couple crumpled bills, and the other one was in his pocket. 

“Someone told me to come here for… stuff.” The kid said to Eddie. 

“Okay, how much do you want?” Eddie replied. 

The boy looked confused, thinking it through. 

“I don’t know.” He finally answered. “I was just told to bring money.” 

“Okay, well I’ve got someone over and you’re wasting my time a little bit. How about you just hand me that money, and I’ll bring you whatever that’s worth?”

“Okay.” 

The kid handed over the cash and Eddie told him to stay at the door while he counted the money and walked over to his bedroom. 

He came out with a small baggie in his hand and flashed you a quick apologetic grin before facing the kid again. 

“There you go. Enjoy.” 

Eddie shut the door behind him and walked back to the couch to sit with you again, just as the movie was wrapping up. 

“I’m sorry about that. I was hoping tonight could go interrupted, but that’s never the case, right?” 

“Yeah, it’s alright. I didn’t know you still dealt.”

The staff at the diner was pretty close-knit, and you had heard lots about Eddie selling drugs in high school, but you had figured that was in the past. You weren’t judging, though. People do what they can to pay the bills—you were both working in a diner at the edge of your crappy town, you know all about that. 

“I don’t really. Just from time to time, I guess.” Eddie shrugged. “Does that bother you?”

“No. Everyone’s gotta do what they can in life. I don’t have a problem, as long as you’re okay with it.” 

“Cool.”

You both just looked at each other for a second, not sure what to say now. Eddie missed the perfect opportunity to make the move he wanted to make on you earlier, and now the movie was over. 

You both silently cursed yourself for not doing what you really wanted to do earlier, but the mood was interrupted by a kid at the door wanting to get high. 

Although you wanted to stay at Eddie’s place for longer, you knew the night was coming to a natural end. 

“I should probably get home soon. I have work in the morning.” 

Eddie was mentally kicking himself for not doing anything earlier, but he definitely wasn’t going to try and convince you to stay since he was aware how that could make him seem. 

“Yeah, okay. I can drive you home.” He stood up and grabbed his car keys from the counter. “You know, Steve’s probably already getting his beauty sleep or something.”

You thanked Eddie and strolled over to him, who was holding the door open for you. 

The two of you walked out to his van, and you slid into the same seat where you had begun the evening. Eddie sat down next to you and flashed you a quick smile before starting the car. 

The ride back to your place was, for the most part, quiet and awkward; it was a sad change from the chemistry you were feeling just an hour ago. 

When you arrived back home, Eddie stopped the car, but you spoke before you got out and the night would be officially over. 

“Thanks for tonight, Eddie. I think we should do this again.”

He looked flustered for a moment. It was no more than a second, but you caught it anyway.

“Well, thanks for saying yes, sweetheart. Are you doing anything Sunday?”

“I have a shift in the morning, but I’m done by the early afternoon.”

“Perfect.” Eddie smiled. “I’ll think of something for us to do then.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt as you badly masked a grin. 

“Okay. It’s a date.”

Eddie opened the door on his side, and so you followed suit. 

“You want me to walk you back?” Eddie offered. 

You stood a foot and a half away from Eddie beside his van and looked back to your apartment building. 

“Steve and Robin are probably pressed against the peephole right now, so I don’t know.”

Eddie ran his hand through his hair and shook his head amusedly. “Ah, I see. You’ve already got people looking out for you?”

You hummed, biting your lip softly. 

“So…” You trailed off. 

“So?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. 

That’s when you finally took your chance. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s cheek, just by the corner of his mouth. 

You backed away, and Eddie seemed flustered but happy, so you knew it went well. 

“Thanks again. I’ll see you at work, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie said quietly. “See you.”

It wasn’t often that Eddie flustered like that. Usually he was calm and collected, or at least yelling, if we’re talking about being in the kitchen at the diner. But very rarely did Eddie blush, and that’s exactly what he did after you kissed him. 

He guessed that it made a lot of sense that you could be the one to make him feel things that no one else can. 

Eddie watched as you walked over to the front of your building and gave him a wave before going inside. His thoughts were moving so fast, he can’t even remember if he waved back. Damn, he hopes he waved back. 

Then, as soon as you were inside and you were both out of each other’s sight, Eddie had to let out his excitement. He took a step out and threw his head forward, shouting at the top of his lungs. 

He stopped the moment he realised you might be able to hear him, and quickly went back into his van. Then he started shouting inside the privacy of those metal walls. 

Eddie was really excited about seeing you tomorrow. 

Little to Eddie’s knowledge, you were just as excited as him, if not even more.

[razztazzel]

Thought it would but cute to revisit this old au of mines and give it some lore!

I’m really passionate about this au specifically because I LOVE sci-fi like ALOT… so I might make a lot of content of it… OFC Helios planet will still be going on trust

Non filtered version + lore ⬇️⬇️⬇️

LORE!!!

All the toons are aliens!!! On a completely different planet (exoplanet) about 4.2 Light years away from earth. The company, C.V. inc. aka Cosmic View Incorporated labeled it “Proxima Centauri b” (Its a Genuine exoplanet that’s the closest known to earth it’s so cool) Let’s just say In this au, Earth is extremely Sci-FI like, reaching advances where it wouldn’t be really…. Possible as earth is now…

And so they developed travel though hyperspace (just to clarify, Hyperspace is a fictional concept and not based on current scientific understanding; it's often portrayed as a different dimension where normal space-time rules don't apply - google or something) and managed to land on Proxima Centauri b! The people traveling were highly advanced scientists and they were like, woahhh look at these little whimsical creatures!!! But only like 4 “handlers” went Cause it was still in development!!! So it was kind of a suicide mission to put it frankly

They didn’t die.. Thankfully!!! And they successfully made it back probably old and decrepit, just with a few aliens that totally weren’t kidnapped or anything (They done took the mains, Besides Zee(Vee) she didn’t exist on their planet since she’s a robot made by C.V. Inc.) Vee was made by the soon to be handlers in an attempt to collect direct data from the totally not kidnapped toons! Her emotions are 100% programmed but ran through an advanced ai that study’s the emotion of literally everything living that’s around her so her emotions can be pretty accurate to a certain degree before the robot part generally makes way, Her ai detects any subtle or visible emotion and collects data of it to train itself on how to process and express emotion, but she’ll never have TRUE emotion

Unlike original Vee they’re smart and makes her entirely water proof and very much heat resistant, Zee just cannot be Submerged in water. Anyway a group of.. more like.. scientists in like…training became handlers as a little hands on experiment for them since the owner of the entire thing was really really interested in the toons and wanted to be involved with data processing so she assigned newbies (ish) to be the handlers.. She herself handles Andy (Dandy)!

The toons are all kept in separate rooms similar to those of like experiments just less cruel, like SCP type shit but cooler and not evil… looking… trust trust… so they can be observed and have data recorded…Besides confinement they’re actually treated really well! Sprout learns to bake through his handler and generally enjoys it so he’s allowed to bake every now and then, Shelby (Shelly) gets loads of attention for being an alien bro does NOT wanna leave, Genesis Rock (Pebble) is treated like a legitimate dog gets walked and has play time even though since he’s a rock he probably doesn’t need it, but data is data, Andy hates it there they tried to feed him plant fertilizer once cause he resembles a flower..

Anyway Vee is the only one who’s not in confinement and is generally like a little bot helper for the company, YES!!! THE TOONS ARE ALLOWED TO ROAM!!! Those lovely creatures are not locked away… forever…

TOON TRIVIA

Andy(Dandy) Now has 4 arms!

Astro becomes spiderman ( Ok not really he just gets 6 arms and is constantly floating, Studies show that he cannot seem to stop..)

Shelby (Shelly) Is a mixture of an alienized fossil with a freaky chameleon, with more feral-ish aspects like protruding fangs and sharper hands compared to the others

Genesis (Pebble) can literally walk on air

sprouts hair is ALIVE do NOT cut it he will scream and he has awful fashion sense because refuses to take the scarf off because it was a gift from cosmo before being taken by weird tall things he didn’t know hashtag last thing he has from cosmo hashtag fruitcake angst hashtag NO MORE FRUITCAKE/j

Zee (Vee)is specifically meant to look similar to the alien toons, She doesn’t have a handler though the handlers like to let her wear a coat, they think it looks cute on her small frame…🫶🫶

Sprouts handler encourages sprout to wear the cute aprons they give him, he always refuses… one day.. one day..

Astro generally cannot stop floating, luckily for some reason gravity won’t allow him to float too high so he’s just chilling fr

I think I’ll call this au Cosmic Veiw incorporation /inc or to put it simply, Alien or space au for easy tagging

[schrodingers-romy]

Heaven Works on Borrowed Time [Karasu Tabito x Reader]

Pairings: Karasu Tabito x GN!Reader Word Count: ~1200 [Ao3 Link]

Summary: Two people escaping an office party have a first meeting under the stars

Warnings: no gendered pronouns/language used for reader, reader doesn't like their job and is kinda bitter about it, discussion of the fermi paradox, karasu-typical tacky nickname, pre-relationship

Notes: very pointless little convo between crow boy and reader but I thought it was fun. title from fermi paradox by avenged sevenfold bc i think i'm funny

You sighed into the night air, relaxing as the late breeze cooled your heated face. Office parties sucked. You were glad you were able to sneak away from you drunk, overly friendly coworkers, and find yourself some peace.

Your jaw had just finished unclenching when the door behind you clicked open, bringing with it a rush of sound from the party inside before it swung back shut.

So much for your peace.

“Didn’ know anyone else was out here. Hope ya don’t mind me intrudin’,” said the newcomer.

“’S fine,” you said, even if you wanted to scream a little.

You recognized the voice; Karasu Tabito, who worked on the floor above you as part of the company’s legal department. You never really interacted with him, aside from including him in a few email chains; if you didn’t know he was friends with Otoya Eita, you wouldn’t have an opinion on the man at all. However, considering you did know Otoya (both by his reputation for dating or hooking up with half of the office and cheating on at least an unlucky third of them, and because he tried to hit on you during your first joint meeting), your opinion on Karasu leaned towards the negative. Still, you didn’t need any more rumors of your snappishness circulating, so you didn’t kick up a fuss at sharing the balcony with him. You would be making your excuses to leave soon anyways; you had been there for over an hour, which was enough to say you had socialized.

Ignoring the man who had sidled up beside you, you blinked up at the sky. The city didn’t have the greatest clarity, but letting your eyes adjust for a moment revealed a splattering of the brightest stars, visible against the deep purple of the heavens. You wished you were in the countryside, where it was so pitch-dark that you could see all the constellations, and the pale, cloudy arm of the milky way as it stretched above you. Where the air was clear, and you were away from the nagging voices of your coworkers and the ambient, unsleeping, anxious hum of the city. But instead, you were stuck at a shit job you were overqualified for, with officemates you barely tolerated most days, just because you were too apathetic to try for anything better.

You slumped against the railing. You should’ve stayed home.

“Hey,” came the deep voice once more. “Ya okay over there?”

You turned to look at him, your cheek pillowed in the crook of your arm as you squinted up at him. His expression was fairly flat, but his eyes seemed honest enough, so you replied. Albeit sarcastically. “I’m doing awesome, man. I love it here.”

He snorted, lip twitching up into a small smirk. “I can see that. Yer jus’ the life of the party, huh?”

“Yup.” You turned away from him, your gaze returning to the stars.

“I woulda thought otherwise, what with how ya were staring up at the sky like ya were prayin’ for aliens ta come and abduct you.”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped you. “Where did you pull that from? Big alien believer yourself?”

“Not any more than’s logical.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued. “And how much is logical?”

He moved closer, leaning against the railing so he could more easily catch your eyes. The indigo of his irises caught the light, and, for a second, you thought he was rather pretty. “I mean, it stands ta reason, statistically, that we’re not alone out there.”

“Don’t you think we would have some evidence of alien life, if there was any?” you asked, sardonically. “Statistics aren’t always accurate, or comprehensive.”

Karasu doesn’t seem off put by your tone, smirking right back at you without a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “Have ya ever heard of the Fermi Paradox?”

“Of course. I’m quite partial to the great filter theory, myself.”

“Do ya think the filter is behind us or ahead of us?”

You stared up at the sky with a frown on your face. “Ahead. I hope civilization hits a wall soon. I’m tired.”

He let out a laugh like a raven’s cackle. “Well aren’tcha a bright spot of sunshine? Personally, I think they’re out there, jus’ watchin’ us.”

“Why?”

“’T’s what I woulda done.”

“Ooh, alien civilization observer Karasu. You’d need a better title than that though, right now it sounds a bit voyeuristic.”

“Tabito.”

You turned back to look at him. “Huh?”

“Ya can call me Tabito.”

You studied him for a moment. The strangely gelled shape of his hair reflected the starshine like an oil slick, and the light seemed to drip down his face and settle into the amused wrinkles at the corners of his bright eyes. He was overly familiar with you, accent and tone breaking down any sort of professional distance, but you found that you, oddly enough, didn’t mind. It was refreshing to talk to someone so frank, who didn’t take your bluntness for an attack. Instead, he seemed…amused by you. (Charmed, even, if you were being wistful.)

“Sure. Tabito,” you said, before offering up your own name in return. You ignored the little flicker of something in your chest at hearing it repeated back at you in his deep voice.

“So, what was that about voyeurism?...”

You glanced away, a little flustered but unwilling to surrender. “I stand by it. Secretly observing a different intelligent species sounds weird as fuck, actually. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Aw, wouldn’t ya want ta observe me if I was ‘n intelligent species? No? ‘M hurt, truly.”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to say, ‘Maybe I would if you were an intelligent species.’ But something in you held back from using one of your typical snappish replies. Instead, you said, “Well. Perhaps I would make an exception. For you. Maybe.”

His smile was so big that it caused his eyes to form crescents. “Aw, that’s so sweet of ya, little storm cloud.”

Your nose crinkled. “Storm cloud? I thought I just gave you name privileges.”

“Ya just reminded me of one, tha’s all. Gloomy. And fluffy.”

“Fluffy?”

“On the inside.”

“Sure, Tabito.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, soaking in the relative peace of the little balcony you’ve found yourselves on. The stars continued to glitter overhead, with more and more peeking through the gloom of the night sky as time ticked past.

“Do ya need someone ta walk ya home?” he asked.

You didn’t. “Sure.”

-

Unlike his friend, Tabito was the perfect gentleman when he brought you home, leaving with nothing more than a good night and a cheeky salute. You wouldn’t have invited him in, not on a first meeting. But. You had a feeling that you might not be so unwilling after getting to know him better.

The next morning, there was a book sitting on your desk. With it, a note: “For my little storm cloud, to borrow. Tell me your opinion on it, I’m sure it’ll be interesting ;)” Hell. Maybe you didn’t want to believe the great filter was ahead; maybe life should continue on. It wasn’t all bad.

[keepyourstyle]

Help I’m currently obsessed with PhoenixFlare and already have like 3 fic ideas for them.

So like the main fic idea I have for PhoenixFlare is basically they can’t sleep so they decide to spar and things get heated (pun may or may not be intended).

I’m real bad at writing in a timely manner but I just wanted to get this out there.

[cetoddle]

okay what i have to say is lowkey embarrassing but i wanna bitch and it’s probably only embarrassing to me bc im shy about this stuff anyways the moral of the story is i wanna bitch and u should probably just ignore me. god bless

[fingertipsmp3]

Had THE funniest dream last night

[inebubble]

ok LISTEN I have SO MUCH respect for animators who work on huge movies but Come On guys with the millions involved you can’t tell me you didn’t look up ONCE how a rider holds their reins??????

[sickgraymeat]

.

[strcwbrryklss]

୨୧﹕ photoshoot .ᐟ oneshot

pairing ; nicholas chavez x fem!reader contains ; yearning , tension , professional environment a/n ; new white boy of the month! summary ; as a professional photographer, y/n deals with beautiful people all the time, models of all statuses and charm. however, photographing nicholas chavez was not as easy when you can get lost in his eyes.

HAVE YOU EVER looked into someone’s eyes and known what they were thinking? even at the slightest glance? well, y/n could tell as soon as nicholas chavez looked into her lens, the way his gaze softened, or his pupils dilating slightly as he looked her way. it was nothing like she’d seen before. yeah, there were models in the past that had tried to subtly show off in front of her, flexing their muscles and giving the camera a sort of ‘look of lust’ — which was always extremely obvious, anyways. but nick, well, he seemed in awe.

although he was the one all ‘prettied up’, laid on a bed in front of her, shirt unbuttoned, nicholas was the one admiring her. there was something he found so beautiful about her concentration for her passion: when her eyebrows furrow as she looks through the lens, or even when she praises — not only him, but herself — as they get a good shot.

well, he may think she’s concentrating. in reality, y/n is getting increasingly annoyed at her wandering mind. with every look at the camera, or when their gaze meets for a split second, it almost feels as though she’s melting. his dark brown eyes were like a universe in itself, it was easy to get lost in them, especially when he is looking at her so desperately. it seems as if he is almost yearning for her — ‘wow’ she thought ‘he must be a good actor’.

along with that look, the position nick is in does not help. he sits on the edge of the bed, manspread whilst he leans back on his elbows. although he looks so desperate, his body language gives him some sort of dominance, unintentionally giving y/n butterflies.

“you’re very beautiful” nicholas says unexpectedly, catching y/n off guard, but not in a way that would creep her out, it seemed genuine.

she lets out a slight giggle before responding, “thank you” she says, continuing to take pictures.

she got closer, in need of some close up shots, too, and nicholas cooperated. however, forgetting to look at the camera, he starts to examine her face, “no, really. you should be the one in front of the camera” he laughs.

“you’re kidding” she rolls her eyes playfully as she smiles at him.

nick smiles back before nodding towards her camera, “come on”

“absolutely not” she laughs, backing away with her camera, “i cannot trust you with this”

“come onnn” he repeats, dragging out the last word, playfully pleading.

the two look at each other for a few seconds. he gives her a knowing look before putting his hand out, waiting for her to give him the camera. y/n thinks for a bit before rolling her eyes once more and handing him the camera and sitting down on the bed, “this is so unprofessional”

“shh” he responds jokingly, “i’m in charge now”

y/n laughs before sitting herself down onto the bed, “tell me what to do then, photographer”

“first of all, jacket off” nicholas points, “second of all, pose how you want”

“yes, sir” she responds sarcastically, taking off her jacket and throwing it behind him, revealing the white sundress she has been wearing underneath. unsure of what pose to do, y/n kept sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed as she leaned back on her arms.

nick began taking photos in a very playful matter, screaming “yes!”, “wow!” enthusiastically with each shot. y/n laughs, causing him to take a few serious shots whilst she’s in the moment. nicholas stops for a second, looking through the photos he just took, with a look of awe on his face and a slight smile, before looking up at her once again.

he then sits down next to her, showing her one of the photos: she’s grinning from ear to ear, eyes shut as sun-rays from the windows hit the sheets behind her, “see, beautiful” he says.

y/n smiles before looking into his eyes once more, realising that they look even better this close, and slowly, without even realising, they close the gap between one another with a soft kiss.

[doll-face222]

Had this idea about Rafe’s best friend! Reader who hasn’t been with anyone in like a year and is getting really worked up. Maybe she had a terrible week and there was a last straw and she’s yelling and yanking on her hair and throwing things and Rafe is kind of realizing she just needs to be totally dominated and taken care of so he does

rafe x bsf!reader

a/n: i totally love that idea anon !! first time writing ever i just didnt want to let sweet nonnie down, so apologies if its not that good !

cw: smut, swearing, drool.

rafe knew you haven’t had a hookup in ages. you would vaguely mention it, when it would be just the two of you in either one’s rooms. if he was being honest, he pitied you. he even wanted to be the one to help you…

you were pissed off the whole week. maybe it was your hormones, with the way you would get annoyed at everything.

whether it be traffic making you late to events, or people at the country club being rude, steam was coming out of your ears.

you were like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode anytime now. good thing your bestfriend kept you grounded whenever you were feeling overstimulated.

so there you were, in your room getting ready for dinner with your family and the camerons. rafe on your bed scrolling on his phone, patiently waiting for you.

you were quiet while doing your makeup on your vanity table, not your usual chatty self. normally you would go on and on about anything and everything under the sun, yapping for hours on end.

rafe knew something was up.

“something wrong bunny?” he asked, using the nickname he gave you referring to the time you dressed up as a bunny for halloween when you two were little.

“no,” you replied with a pout, voice barely above a whisper.

rafe knew better than to push you, so he just sighed and kept quiet.

a few moments have passed, and rafe hears a soft ‘oh fuck’, a thud, and heavy breathing from your vanity. he looks up from his phone and sees your head down, soft sobs coming from the table.

when he got up to come closer, you shot up. screaming, crying, wailing even. rafe could see your problem now: you smudged your mascara. you started yanking out your hair curlers, figuring they were useless if your makeup was ruined anyway.

“woah woah- hey bun!” he yelled, pulling you by your waist. he placed you on your bed, rubbing up and down your arms to soothe you.

rafe guided you gently so you were laying your head on your pillows. he was in between your legs, arms caging your frame.

“shh calm down baby,” he whispered, wiping your mascara stained eyes with his thumbs.

he petted your hair, large hands slowly making their way to your cheeks.

“i’m here, i’m here.” he cooed as your cries hushed, turning into soft hiccups.

in this position he could feel you wet through your bloomers. he looked at your eyes as if to ask for permission silently, before he cupped your mound through the frilly fabric.

“what d’you need bunny?”

“need you rafey,” you whined. he carefully pulled down your bloomers, a string of slick connecting your pussy to the fabric.

rafe grew hard at the sight, taking his thumb to run across your slit. his other thumb trailing to play with your nipples through your top.

you mewl at the simultaneous sensations, given you haven’t experienced them in a long while. he took that as a sign to circle your clit, causing your eyes to shut and your legs to close, only to be blocked by rafe’s broad figure.

he then plunged two fingers in and out of you, thick digits stretching your tight hole. rafe’s hand that was previously playing with your tits find their way to your mouth, muffling your lewd moans.

“let’s be quiet bunny. your parents might be downstairs” he shushed, deep voice making your pussy clamp down on his fingers.

fingers curling up to hit your sweet spot, rafe could feel you getting close.

“you can cum baby, go ‘head,” he signals, feeling you gush all over his hand. eyes rolling to the back of your head, you felt euphoria rush through you.

as you rode out your high, rafe removes his hand from your mouth, drool dripping from your mouth and his hand.

“sorry,” you squeaked. he didn’t mind anyway, just happy you probably had your first orgasm not from your own fingers in months.

it never occured to you that this was an option, to be touched by your own bestfriend. this wouldn’t be the last time it happens, you could tell.

“thank you rafey.” you smiled weakly at him, looking through your lashes. he didn’t say anything, just kissed your forehead.

“are we late to dinner?” you asked, suddenly remembering why you were getting ready.

“i drive fast, we’ll make it,” he smirks, grabbing your small hand to cup the bulge through his pants.

dinner could wait.

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated !! love, scarlet.

[cameronluvr]

BABY TRAPPED — dark!rafe x fem reader

summary: rafe purposely gets you pregnant against your own will after you choose the pogues instead of him.

warnings: 18+ !!, DUBCON, forced pregnancy, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, dark!rafe, arguing, fighting, choking, SMUT, fingering, slapping, unprotected sex (p in v) forced sex, jealous!rafe, kinda stalker!rafe, kidnapping(?), creampie, teen pregnancy. (lmk if anymore!)

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ PART 2

you had been at john b’s chateau for most of the day hanging out with your friends, but you’d promised your parents you’d be home before midnight. looking at the time on your phone, you noticed it was 11:13 pm.

you’d been drinking a little bit, and so had your friends, so driving home wasn’t an option. “guys, i’m gonna need to leave soon” you say over the mild volume of music playing.

“why?” kiara asks. “my parents told me i had to be home before 12. they’re kinda worried about me because of the whole.. you know.. rafe thing” you reply.

over the past few weeks you’d been going through a rough breakup with rafe. you couldn’t handle him anymore. his anger, his jealousy, his everything. he was no good for you anymore, and with the whole rafe vs pogues situation, you had to pick a side. your boyfriend or your best friends.

you had to pick your friends. there was no other choice, no other way out. rafe had tormented your friends for months. he pulled his gun on them, he beat them up, he attempted to kill kiara and his own sister sarah. and he almost killed you.

you’d lost track of how many fights you had with him, how many times he hit you and you hit him back. the screaming wars you’d have always ended up with him choking you or slapping you, and ward having to physically pull him away from you.

you just couldn’t put up with him anymore. he was manipulative, toxic, and most of all abusive. your friends knew about all of this, and tried so hard to get you away from him, but you couldn’t escape from him. he’d always convince you otherwise, guilt trip you, lie to you, twist your words…

“ya’ want me to walk you home?” jj asks, sitting beside you, smoking his blunt. you think about it for a second, but decline his offer. “thanks, but i’m okay, really. i’ll be fine” you nod and smile. “you sure?” sarah asks from across the room as they all practically look at you as if you were crazy. rafe was crazy, and if he saw you alone, only god knows what he would do…

“yeah, i’m good. i think i need to be alone anyway. take a nice walk by myself” you shrug. you hadn’t really had much alone time in months, considering you had a boyfriend glued to your hip out of distrust.

“okay, well, please call us if you need us, m’kay?” sarah says, walking over to you to hug you. she’s worried for you the most, you’re her best friend and her own brother is ruining your life. “i will, promise” you smile, standing up to hug her tightly.

“love you, y/n” kiara says with a smile as you walk out the door, saying bye to them all. you blow a kiss to kie before shutting the door behind you. they all know you’re going through a tough time, so they’re trying their best to be there for you and look out for you. they all love you.

walking home now, you stroll down the dark, long road ahead, with nothing surrounding you but tall trees and dim streetlights. no people, no lit-up houses, just dark and quiet streets with people in bed.

you walk for ten more minutes before you hear a car approaching from behind you. you give it no thought though, not wanting to worry yourself. the car gets closer, as if it were going to drive straight past you, but suddenly, you hear the car slowing down and eventually stopping right next to you. you don’t want to look, but you have to.

your heart sank into your chest when you noticed rafe’s black range rover, right as the window rolled down. it was rafe. “y/n get in.” his tone demanding and angry. “no, leave me alone.” you quickly turn around, power walking away. however, he only follows you. he slowly drives, following you, speeding up and slowing down whenever you do.

“y/n just get in i wanna talk” he says out the window, resting his arm on it as he watches you, attempting to talk to you. “rafe, leave me the fuck alone.” your voice gets louder, but you’re not yelling, yet. “save yourself the hassle and get in for fuck’s sake” he says, getting more frustrated by the second.

“no” you say, not looking in his direction at all. “oh my god” he says, sighing before putting the car in park and getting out. “no, go away!” you say, attempting to run but he grabs you before you can. you thrash around in his arms before he picks you up and drags you to his car.

“put me down!” you yell at him, trying to fight him but he is much stronger than you are. he opens the passenger door, shoving you inside before quickly getting in the drivers seat and locking the doors.

“what the fuck are you d—” you scream at him before his hand roughly covers your mouth, shutting you up. “i just wanted to talk, but you always have to make it hard, don’t you?” he says, eventually letting go of your mouth and seeing a mark left over from how tight his grip was.

“i don’t want to fucking talk! you yell as he rolls the windows all the way up so nobody can hear you fussing. “i don’t care. who the fuck do you think you are?” he yells at you, making you flinch. “what?” your eyebrows furrow.

“choosing those fucking trash pogues over me. are you serious? dumping me for them?” he argues. you’ve had this argument with him plenty of times, he seems to not be able to let it go. or let you go. “rafe. i didn’t want to be your girlfriend anymore, okay? you’re abusive, you’re mean, you’re—” you say, only to be cut off by his laughter. “abusive? for wanting to protect you? for wanting the best for you? right” he squints his eyes. “wanting the best for me? are you serious? you’ve done nothing but hurt me, and hurt my friends, including your own sister, by the way!” you argue, but he scoffs and tuts, as if they were nothing.

“because i told you so many fucking times to stay away from them, didn’t i?” he screams in your face, watching as you flinch with fear. “yeah, you did, but they are my friends, rafe, sarah is my best friend and you tried to kill her? she’s your fucking sister you should love her more than you love me” you say, voice getting higher out of frustration for him. how can he be so naive and cruel?

“her? she’s no sister of mine. that bitch has always been against me” he scoffs, speaking so lowly of his own little sister. “no she hasn’t, rafe!” you try to tell him, but every word that comes out of your mouth is a lie according to his delusions.

“right, whatever.” he rolls his eyes at you and your ‘lies’, but he just doesn’t want to accept the truth. he’s the problem, he turned everyone against himself. “i love you, yeah? i never stopped” he suddenly says, looking at you.

“well i have.” you say, but hearing those words were gut wrenching to him. you crossed the line. he unexpectedly and quickly reaches over, grabbing you by the throat and squeezing his fingers.

“i never wanna hurt you, y/n. you make me do it. i want to love you, but when you’re running off with your little friends behind my back, you make it hard to trust you, yeah?” he explains in his usual manipulative tone.

“rafe…” you force out, feeling as his grip tightens, his nails basically digging into your skin. “can you let me love you like i want to? like i’ve been trying to?” he asks, watching as your face turns redder and redder.

he loves watching you struggle, it was his favorite part of having power over you. it’s like it turns him on to hurt you. “please.. stop…” you struggle to say as he just keeps begging for your love.

“y/n, let me show you how much i really love you. please?” he asks softly, looking at you with adoration as if his own hand isn’t almost causing you to lose consciousness. he was psychotic. “ok.. ok.. yeah.. just let me go” you choke, nodding your head as fast as you can. you didn’t want to agree, but you had to otherwise he wasn’t going to stop.

and who knows what he would’ve done if you had passed out? you’d dread to think. “yeah? atta’ girl. i knew you’d come to terms with me sooner or later” he says, smiling as if he didn’t force the right answer out of you. he lets go of your throat, loving the sound of you gasping for air and regaining your breath.

you wanted to hit him so bad, you wanted to insult him and call him names but most importantly, you didn’t want him to actually kill you. “let’s go somewhere private, hm?” he suggests, like you could say no. you stay silent in his passenger seat, nodding at everything he’s saying, submitting to your fear of him.

he puts the car into gear and begins driving off. he drives five minutes down the road before turning down an off road path which lead to the lake, but he stopped in the secluded path surrounded by more trees, and more darkness.

turning his engine off, he turns to face you. “do you love me?” he asks. you’re terrified to answer. you’d be lying if you said yes, but if you said no, you’d find out. “…yes” you gulp, fearing him deeply. “good girl” he smirks, smelling your fear like a dog could.

he loves it. he loves you being afraid to say something he doesn’t want to hear, that’s the first step to being the perfect girlfriend in his eyes, you always know the right answer.

he turns in his seat to face you, reaching his hand over to your thigh. he rubs it, trailing his hand up and closer to your pussy, but you shift your legs the other way to move his hand away, making him grab your thigh and moving it back to where it was.

“don’t act like you don’t want it. you just said you love me” he leans over, darkly whispering in your ear which sent shivers down your spine. “i.. i do” you lie, not wanting to send him over the edge. he smirks at your words, leaning his head down to your neck to kiss it. you don’t want his touch, but you need it.

“rafe…” you whisper, trying your best not to want it but it’s difficult when he’s kissing your neck and moving his hand up your thigh again, only this time you don’t move your legs when he gets close to your pussy. you’re wearing jeans, so you feel his hand unbuttoning them which made you nervous, but you let it happen anyway.

“what baby?” he whispers, lifting his head from your neck to look at you. “i—” you say, cut off by the feeling of his cold hand slipping into your jeans. you jump at the temperature of his skin, which made him laugh. “come on, just take it” he licks his lips, looking at yours before kissing them. you kiss him back, and eventually start making out with him.

mid kiss, his hand slips into your panties, making you hum a moan. “you like that?” he asks, rubbing circles on your clit before breaking the kiss. “mhm” you hum, but his other hand reaches behind your head and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back. “use your words, princess” he tells you, his dark eyes staring into yours. “…yes.” you hesitate to say, but you go along with it for your own safety and his sanity.

“hmm.. good” he smirks, letting go of your hair and kissing you again before his hand slid down your pussy, to your hole. you gasp at his sudden movement, but he chuckles at you. “you’re so wet. i’m always turning you on, huh?” he says, opening his mouth and mocking your gasp.

you chuckle too, wanting him to know you’re on the same page. after seconds of his fingers teasing your hole, he slides two of them into you. you gasp, moaning as his fingers fill you up to his knuckles. “so deep..” you moan, tensing up in your seat at his touch.

but it wasn’t long before he had you stripped off and sitting on his lap with the seat pushed all the way back. “fuck” he moans at the sight of your pretty tits, his hands grabbing your ass cheeks.

“if we do this… will you leave me alone after?” you ask, terrified to say but it needed to be said. “yeah, of course, i promise” he says like it’s nothing, like he didn’t even hear those words come out of your mouth. you were expecting a different reaction, but he had a different plan.

you felt like you had to have sex with him one last time for him to be able to move on from you. or so you thought that’s how it would be. “i love you, but if i need to leave for you to be happy, then i will” he says, almost believably.

but that was a lie.

pulling his boxers off allowed his hard dick to spring out, hitting your leg. you both giggle before starting to make out again, where his hands slid from your ass cheeks to your hips, his fingers twirling the sides of your panties before pulling them down and off your feet.

“ride me, princess” he says, both of your warm areas touching. you nod, lifting yourself up and positioning yourself above his cock before his hands roughly gripped your waist, pulling you to sit down on it.

you let out a loud moan of pain and pleasure. “fuuuck” he drags, closing his eyes as he pulled you up and down, choosing the speed and roughness for you. your moans cried out, you didn’t know if it hurt or felt good more.

“i missed you so much. i missed this pussy” he tells you, his hands roaming your naked back as his dick harshly thrusts up into you. “i missed you” you say, knowing you didn’t mean a single word. your horniness and desire to please him took over.

“you’re mine, baby” he tells you, his fingernails digging into your hips, making you cry out. he was so good at pleasing your pussy that you ruled out the pain he caused. “…always” you say, starting to question whether or not he was being honest about leaving you alone.

his pace is rough, he’s fucking you so harshly that you don’t think he’s ever gone this hard on you before. it hurts, but it hurts so good. “ow.. fuck.. rafe” you moan loudly like a porn star. “that’s it, baby” he says, feeling closer and closer to coming each time he thrust up into you.

your legs start to burn and ache, and he can tell by how much your legs are shaking. so he pulls you off of him, and guides you into the back seats where he climbs over after you.

he lays you down on your back, spreading your bodies over the three seats. he positions his cock near your pussy again, before sliding in with no warning. you moan, wrapping your arms around his back and gripping his shoulders. “fuckkk” he moans in your ear, making you much wetter. no matter how much you hate rafe cameron, his moans were your weakness.

the rougher and meaner he got, the more aroused he was. it wasn’t long before he started choking you, and slapping you around. it’s what he does during sex. he loves the power, he loves the dominance he has over you. you allowed it, though, because this was the last time. right?..

minutes later, you you felt him speeding up and becoming more tense, which meant he was gonna finish any second now. you, however, weren’t even close to finishing. it did feel good, but it didn’t change your feelings for him. you can’t come over somebody you hate so much.

“fuck baby.. ‘m gonna cum…” he says, twitching his dick as he empties his load into you. you moan at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up and leaking out after. he slowly pulls out, smirking knowing he’s hiding a huge secret from you.

he snuck into your house a few days ago while you were out with the pogues, and swapped your birth control pills for fake ones. but you had no idea…

it wasn’t until two weeks later when you were throwing up in your toilet, and crying your eyes out when you realized you’d missed your period. “fuck” you say, grabbing an emergency pregnancy test from the cabinet above the sink. you had them hidden in there just in case.

you take the pregnancy test, pacing around your bathroom for five minutes straight, waiting for the results. boom. the alarm you’d set on your phone goes off, five minutes is up. you switch the alarm off and gulp, slowly reaching for the pregnancy test. you pick it up, and gasp when you read the answer.

POSITIVE.

what the fuck are you supposed to do now?…

NOT PROOFREAD. probably some mistakes, but my FIRST smut writing?!?!😩😩 plssssss lmk what y’all think! <333

@cameronluvr

[roseghoul26]

Cooper Howard | The Ghoul x fem!Reader

Synopsis: After being captured by The Ghoul, he had dragged you through the hot desert of the Wasteland. You were so thirsty, and you’d do anything for a drink of water. And you meant anything. Tags: Smut, Practically No Plot, Humiliation, Begging, Spit, Blowjobs, Throat Fucking, Thigh Riding, Biting, Hate Sex(?), maybe OOC The Ghoul but I think I got it right, Not Beta Read, there's still consent because i can’t write severe noncon Author's Note: i had so many “why am i writing this” moments yet i still finished it i’m so sorry. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this thirsty in your life. 

Scratch that, you don’t think anyone’s ever been as thirsty as you currently are. 

Even though you had no saliva left to swallow, you tried anyway, your throat feeling like sandpaper. It caused you to cough, earning a disgruntled noise from the ghoul currently holding you hostage. 

The Ghoul. Infamous bounty hunter and the cruelest person you’d ever met. Of course, you only found out who he was after he captured you. You’d never even heard of a ghoul until a few days ago, your sheltered life in Vault 14 withholding information about the surface to you. 

You wished you were back home, suffocating as it was. At home, you wouldn’t be forced to walk countless miles under the boiling Wasteland sun. At home, you wouldn’t have a lasso around your neck, preventing you from running off. And even if you did manage to somehow escape the rope confines, you’d seen how accurate of a shot he was. He’d kill you before you managed to keep a foot away from him. 

You glanced back at him, The Ghoul, who had his sawed-off shotgun casually trained on you. He seemed unaffected by the heat, by the sun beating down on your faces. His hat made sure of that, and you supposed that you didn’t have to worry about sunburn if all your exposed skin was melted by radiation.

It had been hard, looking at him at first. After spending your entire life surrounded by “normal” humans, it was a shock seeing him for the first time. You’d seen burn scars before, sure, but never this severe, every inch of him covered in them. Of course, that wasn’t the most off-putting part. That had to be the complete lack of nose, an empty socket where the cartilaginous appendage should be. 

It unsettled you deeply, but you found that you couldn’t stop looking at him, a sick part of your brain enjoying it. You didn’t dare delve into that part of your mind right now, though, your current circumstance is significantly more important. 

He had stopped you in Filly, and after a brief discussion had decided that he was taking you with wherever he was going. You had no say in the decision, and even when you fought and kicked and screamed he still managed to get you bound. A few people tried to help, not because they cared about you, but because they had also wanted to get their hands on a “Vaultie”. Apparently, you were worth something to them up here, a commodity of sorts. It made your skin crawl. You’d gotten firsthand experience, then, of how good of a shot The Ghoul was. 

How you longed to be back in the stuffy Vault, working as a teacher to those kids. As annoying as they were, at least they weren’t currently threatening your life, or making you walk to who the hell knows. You’d take that over this any day. Hell, you’d take latrine duty with overflowing toilets every single hour over this. 

You fixed your attention back in front of you, the endless stretch of sandy dunes in front of you broken up by partially destroyed houses and skeletons of buildings. Your feet were in incredible amounts of pain, every step feeling like you had fifty pounds of bricks attached to your ankles. And that thirst, never ending, overwhelming thirst you felt nagged at you, consuming every thought of yours. You’d take anything to drink now, even that definitely radiated puddle you’d passed hours ago. Or was it minutes? You couldn’t tell.

You knew dehydration had long since started affecting you. You were no longer able to form sweat, and you were certain that your body was slowly cooking from the inside. You were almost certain it would be a better fate than whatever The Ghoul was leading you towards. 

You hadn’t even realized he’d stopped until you felt a sharp tug at your throat, nearly toppling you on your ass. You heard him chuckle as you steadied yourself, and you shot him a glare. Even faced with death, you weren’t going to let yourself be treated like this. “We’re stopin’ here,” he gestured to a dilapidated building to his right.

You had been surprised when he spoke the first time, not expecting a southern drawl. You’d never heard an accent like his before, only ever hearing them on the Holotapes your Vault would play for movie night. You’d also believed them to be fake, or to have died out with the rest of humanity. You had to admit, the one good thing to come out of this whole experience was hearing his voice. 

Momentarily confused as to why you were stopping, your eyes focused, and you realized that the sun was half set. You’d learned rather quickly that it was suicidal and stupid to travel across the Wasteland at night, after an almost perilous encountered with what you assumed to once be a bear. You’d barely escaped with your life, climbing a tree until the creature grew disinterested and found new prey. 

You almost wished it had torn you apart then. 

Apparently you were taking too long, and you felt another tug at the rope, pulling you closer to him. “Ain’t got all day, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The name was anything but sweet, saying it with so much condescension that it made you flush angrily. At least, that’s what you told yourself. 

Grumbling something under your breath, you stormed past him, another low chuckle leaving him. “Nothin’ good is gonna come from that mouth on ya,” he threatened, waving the gun at you in a go on motion. 

The shifting sand nearly caused you to stumble as you ducked into the house through a window, and your eyes struggled to adjust to the low lighting. Holding your breath, you listened for anything else in the house besides the two of you, and when you were met with only your heartbeat, you continued further in. 

Entering what used to be the living room, you saw a large couch, still in relatively decent condition, and luckily free of decomposed bodies. Any wood furniture, however, had already decayed, leaving only fragments where they once stood. You realized that if you were to sit on the couch, it would probably crumble under the weight.

The Ghoul entered behind you, and you made your way down the hallway, checking each room for anyone or anything that could do you harm. The first room was a bathroom, sand filling the bathtub like it was water. Out of desperation you almost tried to turn the handles on the sink, lift the seat of the toilet, do anything for a drop of water. But you refrained, not willing to stoop to that level yet. But you could feel that you were close. 

The next room was a large master bedroom, completely destroyed from when the bombs fell. Sand covered everything, and the walls had practically caved in, leaving you exposed to the outside. There was no where you would stay there willingly tonight. 

The third and final room was also completely devoid of life, but the empty crib in the middle of the room had you gasping, and you heard the click of a gun behind you as The Ghoul prepared for anything. You quickly shut the door. “Nothing, sorry,” you managed to croak out, and you heard him scoff.

However, you saw that he did manage to catch a glimpse of the room before you closed the door, and in those still human eyes you saw something flash through them. Sadness? Longing? Anger? You couldn’t tell, but you sure as hell weren’t about to ask him about it. 

Living room it is, then. Heading back to the original room, you watch The Ghoul sit on the couch, right in the center of it. It held, surprisingly, but you could hear the wood groan in warning. Spreading his legs, you watched him tilt his head back, a content sigh leaving his mouth. 

If you had the energy to blush, you would’ve as you watched him, finding yourself having to look away. Maybe dehydration was messing with your brain, the way you thought that was attractive. What the hell was wrong with you, you thought. 

Thirst quickly chased those thoughts away, and you attempted to lick your dry lips, your tongue mostly sticking to them instead. You were about to go explore the bathroom until you remembered the rope around your neck. 

Like he could read your thoughts, you watched him regard the lasso in his gloved hand. “You gonna run off on me if I take this off, sweetheart?” 

You shook your head, excited to have the irritating rope no longer chafing your neck. “You’ll kill me before I could,” you responded, voice barely a whisper.

The Ghoul barked out a laugh. “Damn right I will.” He considered your response for a moment, and you fully believed that he was going to keep it there. That was until he stood, almost inhumanly fast, approaching you with long strides.

Holding your breath, you felt his tug the rope off your neck, those eerily human eyes never leaving yours as he did. You flinched when you felt one of his leather-clad fingers brush over the irritated skin. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, mostly because of fear, but also for another reason that you refused to name. 

With a satisfactory smirk, he looped the lasso back onto his belt. You quickly exhaled when he stepped away, eliciting a coughing fit, which was dry and only irritated your throat more. Fuck, you were so thirsty. 

The Ghoul sat back on the couch in that same lounging position, and you debated sitting on the floor in front of him, but you feared that if you rested now then you’d never get back up. You watched him set a lantern on the ground, the weak oil based contraption the only source of light in the entire room. You didn’t ask why he didn’t start a fire; you also learned to not do that early on too. 

So you remained standing, even though your feet screamed for relief. You ignored them, shifting to try and alleviate the pain slightly. Rubbing your neck, you could feel that he hadn't once taken his eyes off of you, and it was making you increasingly unnerved. “You gonna stand there all night?”

You crossed your arms. “Yes.” You tried to sound defiant, but it came out more like an airy noise.

“Suit yourself, then.” He rolled his eyes, making a show of getting comfortable on the couch. “It’ll be a long night for you, that’s for sure.”

Swaying, you leaned your back against one of the barely-standing walls, screwing your eyes shut. You occupied your thoughts with memories of home, trying desperately to ignore the pain. You were mostly successful, that was until you heard the sound of a canister being opened. 

Curious, you opened your eyes back up, nearly falling to your knees when you saw him drinking from a circular canteen. You must’ve made some noise, because he was now smirking at you. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and you watched a droplet of precious water trail down his scarred chin, dripping onto his dusty clothes. 

“See somethin’ you want, sweetheart?” He was unabashedly cocky with his tone. 

You son of a bitch, you thought, glaring daggers into him.

“Now, now, no need to be like that,” he chuckled, taking another sip. “Just tell me what ya want.”

He wanted you to ask for it. He wanted you to be at his mercy. Groaning, you rest your head back against the wall. You don’t think you’ve ever hated anyone as much as you hated The Ghoul. Any humanity left in him had been stripped away, leaving behind a cruel excuse of a human. Despite that, you couldn’t deny the way your heart continued to patter in your chest as he stared at you expectantly, that cocky attitude doing things to you that would leave anyone who knew you horrified.

“I…” you tried to talk, but your voice proved to be too scratchy. Clearing your throat as best you could, you tried again, ignoring the way he looked at you like a predator would his prey. It was similar to the bear from earlier, but you’d take that now over the ghoul in front of you. “I need water.”

He tsked, crossing a leg over his lap. “And here I thought you Vaulties were raised with manners.”

It took everything in you to not just snap at him, but that would leave you without any water. “I need water, please,” you gritted out. 

The Ghoul shook his head disapprovingly. “Shame,” you heard him mutter, before he was slowly pouring the water out onto the floor behind him.

Sheer panic tore through you, and if you were able to form tears, they would be in your eyes. “Wait, wait, wait,” you pleaded, your voice cracking and breaking, and you lunged forward. The click of a gun had your blood going cold, but he at least had the decency to stop pouring. You held your hands up, taking a few steps back.

Registering that you weren’t going to attack him, he lowered the gun, but he still kept it on his lap. If he had any eyebrows left, you’re sure one of them would be raised, waiting for you to continue. 

“I’m- I’m sorry,” you stammered out, keeping your hands in the air. “I just… Can I please have some water? Please, I-I… I need it. I’m begging you… please.” You wondered if he could even make out your words. 

You watched his eyes travel up and down your body, and he cocked his head. “Are you?” You made a confused noise, and he chuckled lowly. “Are you beggin’ me?”

One problem that you always had at the Vault is that you never knew when to shut your mouth, and what you said next certainly made it clear that you hadn’t learned yet. “You want me to get on my knees, then?” You had meant it sarcastically, and you immediately regretted it when his eyes went dark. 

You heard the creak of the couch as he planted both feet on the ground, leaning forward until his elbows rested on his knees. His guns barely stayed in his lap, but he didn’t seem to care. “Now that you mention it… yeah.”

Humiliation warmed your cheeks, and you nearly let your pride stop you from sinking to the floor, but then you saw the way the canteen hung precariously in his hand. Damn it all. Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly, unable to look at the man, not wanting to see his victorious reaction. The sand shifted beneath your knees as you rested on them, but you could barely feel the relief your feet finally felt.

“Can-”

“Closer,” he cut you off gruffly. “And I want those eyes on me.” His voice had turned husky, and you realized he was enjoying this. Were… were you enjoying this too? You honestly couldn’t tell.

Wordlessly, you obeyed, shuffling forward until your knees bumped into his shoes. Your ears burned worse than they did out in the sun, and you wished it would just explode and incinerate you right now. “Eyes up, sweetheart,” he practically purred. 

You took a moment to prepare yourself before you were looking at him through hooded eyes. The brim of his hat cast a shade over his face, and you could only see the hungry glint in his eyes matched with a predatory smirk. Oh, he was loving this, and you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze, heat pooling in your belly that was quickly doused by shame. 

“Can I please have some water? Please? I- I’m really thirsty and… just a bit. Please.” 

His grin grew more as you begged, and you sagged with relief when he brought the canteen closer, no longer dangling over the back of the couch. “See, that ain’t so hard now, was it?”

“I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologizing, for what, you weren’t quite sure. You weren’t too upset about it, though, especially when he brought the canteen to your lips. 

“Head back,” he ordered, and you did, your neck straining at the angle. You swore you heard him groan when you parted your lips, never breaking eye contact with him. The water was disgusting and acidic, but damn if it wasn’t the best thing you’d ever had the pleasure of drinking. He poured it into your mouth, and you desperately swallowed every single drop, the dryness in your mouth and throat instantly being quenched. 

But it wasn’t enough, and you couldn’t help the disappointed noise you let out when he ceased the pouring. “More, please,” you found yourself whining, any remnants of shame tossed out the broken window you’d climbed into.

“Manners, Vaultie,” he growled.

“Thank you, thank you,” you repeated like a mantra, and The Ghoul let out a pleased hum. Thirstiness still clung to you like a second skin, but you felt better than you had moments ago. Some of your energy had returned, and you felt like you were no longer in the grasp of death. 

“You want more?” He asked, and you immediately nodded.

“Please,” you whispered, and you saw something almost wicked pass over his features. 

“Don’t worry,” you felt one of his gloved hands sneak around your back, collecting a handful of hair and tugging, forcing your head back even further. You cried out, a mix of shock and pain. “You’ll get more. Just keep that pretty mouth wide open, just like that.” His normal drawl had turned into an almost rasp, and you shuddered. 

You watched as he took a swig for himself, but he didn’t swallow, keeping the water in his mouth. Confused, you closed your mouth, but as soon as you did you felt him pull hard at your hair. Obediently, you opened it back up, a shaky exhale leaving you.

If he had a nose, it would be currently pressed up against yours. He adjusted so that he was practically towering above you, and man did the angle kill your neck, but you didn’t dare complain. With increasingly widening eyes, you watched as he slotted his mouth above yours, not touching, but you could still feel the heat from his body. 

You nearly flinched when you felt the water hit your mouth, fighting every instinct that told you to shut it. The act was filthy and degrading, but you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t getting you incredibly aroused. Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming suffocating; it hadn’t even felt this bad when you were outside. 

As he sat back on to the couch, his lips glistened in the dim light, stray remnants of water still coating them. As you held the water in your mouth, he frowned disapprovingly. “Do I gotta spell it out for ya?” He shifted forward again, grasping your face. “Swallow.” 

When you did, he let go, tapping your cheek lightly. “Atta girl,” he cooed, and you sputtered, cheeks growing warm. Shifting where you sat, you tried and failed to relieve some of the tension in you. You thought you were subtle in your movements, but his sharpshooter gaze locked onto it immediately. 

He laughed, a mix of surprise and condescension in one. “This gettin’ you turned on? Maybe you ain’t all that innocent, Vaultie.”

You eyed the half-hard tent in front of you. “I’m not the only one,” you grumbled out, and he laughed again. 

“I ain’t the one on my knees, sweetheart.”  Scoffing, you watched him lean back again. You expected him to say something, do something, but he simply watched you with anticipatorily. Something shifted in the atmosphere, and you realized he was putting the situation in your hands, wordlessly asking you how far you were willing to take this. 

You needed this. You needed him, as bewildering as it was for you to admit to yourself. 

Desire running deeper than that for water coursed through your veins, and you nodded. “More.” You both knew that you weren’t fully talking about the canteen in his hand. 

“Good answer.” Before you could even register, he was gripping your face again. Fingers pressed into your cheeks harshly, opening your mouth back up. Taking another swig, you expected him to repeat what he’d done last time, but you were startled when you felt his lips on yours. 

It was a strange kiss, his closed mouth against your open one, but it didn’t stay like that for long. His lips pulled apart, and without needing further prompting you swallowed another precious mouthful of water. You could feel that bastardly smirk against your mouth, and if you were anywhere near being able to create a coherent thought you would’ve said something. 

But you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was like you were caught up in some haze, but you were sent out of it when you felt his tongue sweep into your mouth. You’d kissed a few people, sure, but never like this. It elicited a startled noise from you that had him pulling back an inch, and you had to fight yourself to not chase after his lips.

“Never had that before?” He chuckled, and he found your following silence an adequate enough answer. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

He didn’t even give you a moment to react before he was crashing his mouth back against yours. It was all tongue and teeth and it had you moaning, and you felt the grip on your face tighten. Your head spun, and you tried to keep up with his movements, but you ended up just letting him take over, moving his mouth against your however he’d like. 

He nipped at your lower lip with his teeth, and your hands shot out, no longer able to just keep them idly in your lap. You found purchase on his thighs, the sinewy muscles tensing under your touch. But the grip on your face tightened more, almost incredibly painful. Your eyes shot open, alarmed, and a pained noise left you. 

He had pulled away again, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths, but he was glaring down at you. “You better watch those hands.” Even though his voice was husky, the threat didn’t make you any less terrified. 

You were confused, and you watched his eyes trail down to his lap where your hands were. Unable to move your head, you had to strain your own eyes to look down, and sheer dread washed over you when you saw his gun still in his lap, your hands a mere inch away from it. 

“I- I wasn’t… I didn’t… ” you gasped breathlessly. “I didn’t know! I- I’m sorry! Please.” Out of all the times you’d begged and pleaded tonight, this time had to be the most genuine. Immediately retracting your hands back to your lap, you awaited his response tensely. What you failed to notice was the way his eyes darkened as you groveled, his pants growing tighter.

His gaze returned to your face, and out of the corner of your eye you watched as he moved the gun from his lap into his hand. You half expected him to point it at you next, but you let out a very audible sigh of relief when he set it on the couch beside him. It was completely out of your reach now, but he could still easily grab it. 

He loosened the grip on your jaw, still holding it, but no longer digging into your flesh painfully. “I won’t stop you next time,” he growled, and it took you a second to register what he was saying: he won’t stop you next time because you’d be dead as soon as you began to reach for it. 

You nodded as best you could. “Good,” he’d lost the threatening tone, but his voice was still gravely and raspy. “Now, where was I?” His eyes flicked down to your lips, and you sure they were swollen and shiny. “That’s right.”

Like nothing had happened, he returned to his ministrations, teeth grazing your bottom lip again. You hesitated when you set your hands back on his thighs, gaining more confidence when he didn’t stop you. In fact, he was actively encouraging your explorative touches, a pleased noise rumbling his chest as your fingers trailed up his thighs. 

Another swipe of his tongue and a particularly harsh bite had you gripping onto him, barely able to find purchase on the thick material of his pants. You desperately needed air, but he held his grip on your jaw, seemingly unaffected by the issue you were having. Did ghouls need to breathe? It seemed like they didn’t, because he had yet to tear his mouth away for air once as he first kissed you. 

As your hands reached his belt, it was then he finally tore away, a groan leaving him. Sucking in as much air as your lungs could handle, you ran your touch across the prominent bulge. You felt the hand on your jaw go lax, falling to his lap. “You gonna take care of that?” He was giving you another out, giving you an opportunity to stop you from doing something you could regret. 

Rationally, you knew you should stop here, and pretend like this didn’t just happen. You knew the version of you from the Vault would do that. But this new part of you, exposed to the Wasteland and the savagery of the surface world found that you wanted to continue. Besides, you were probably going to end up getting killed in the next few days; why not have some new experiences before your time was up.

You didn’t respond, you simply began to undo the buckle of his belt. You couldn’t get the thing off of him, so it just rested open on his thighs. “Oh, you’re filthy,” he chuckled, spreading his legs even further apart while leaning back against the couch. “Go on, sweetheart. Let’s see what that mouth’s good for.”

This also wasn’t your first time in a situation like this. You’d only ever done it once, but you apparently weren't too terrible at it, as he frequently requested for a second time, but you always turned him down. You kinda wish you hadn’t now, wishing you had more experience now, but a part of you knew that this was about to be incredibly different from anything you would’ve experienced in the Vault.

With hands that you prayed weren’t incredibly shaky, you pulled down the zipper of his pants. He kept his eyes locked onto you the entire time, darkening even more as the unzipping noise hit his ears. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, no matter how hard you wanted to. Something about his expression had you locked in, and you shifted again. 

“Don’t let me stop ya,” he rested his arms along the backside of the couch, and you realized you’d just been sitting there. Steadying yourself, you slipped your hand into the confines of his pants, underneath the waistband of his briefs. You heard him let out a small hiss when your fingers brushed over his cock, and you desperately wanted to hear him make more noises like that.

It took a bit of maneuvering before he was free, head brushing against his navel. The skin was pocked like the rest of his body, which you were expecting. What you weren’t expecting was how long he was, much longer than your previous encounter.

Before you could let nerves disarm you, you moved closer to him. Bracing your hands back on his thighs, you kissed his tip, and you heard his hiss again. Sneaking your tongue out, you ran it up his length, pressing another kiss when you reached the top. “Don’t tease,” he growled, tangling his gloved fingers back into your hair. 

When you took him into your mouth, he let out a noise that sounded like a laugh and a sigh, the grip on your hair growing painful. It didn’t deter you, rather it drove you wild, and you took as much of him as you could. When he hit the back of your throat, you had to stifle the urge to gag. Taking the rest of him in one of your hands, you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks. 

You couldn’t see the way his eyes locked onto his cock leaving and entering your mouth, but you could hear the small grunts he made in tandem with the movement of your head. He kept his hips surprisingly still, but his fingers were somehow getting even tighter, as if all of his restraint was being poured into his grip, and it was on the verge of snapping. “You can take more.” It wasn’t a question, and you felt his press down on the back of your head when you had him fully in you.

Startled, you tried to make a noise, but the vibrations just went straight to his cock. He groaned, louder this time, and he didn't let up. “Relax,” he bit out, and you tried. You really did. Taking as deep a breath you could, you forced your muscles to relax, your hands going back to his thighs. Tears sprung to your eyes as you really tried not to gag, but a garbled sound still left you as he pushed himself further down your throat. 

“Fuck,” he drawled out, “just like that.” It felt like five years had passed before your nose was finally pressed into his skin, his cock fully sheathed down your throat. Tears dripped onto his skin, but he didn’t seem to feel them. Your scalp stung as he lifted your head up, and you took in a shuddering breath, your lungs screaming for air.

You didn’t have a long reprieve before he was shoving you back down again, and even though the intrusion wasn’t new it still caused you to make an awful noise. It took him pulling you off again for you to realize what he was doing; he was fucking your mouth, using it for his own pleasure like you were just a toy. The realization had you moaning, the discomforts becoming an afterthought as he chased his pleasure, your own growing. 

Your Vault-Tec suit was becoming unbearable arousal tightening in your core, and you snuck a hand down between your legs, trying to touch yourself through the thick material. It didn’t help, but you still tried anyway, desperate for any sort of relief. The Ghoul laughed, not letting up the way he moved your head. “Oh, sugar, is suckin’ my cock gettin’ you bothered?”

Your head spun, the new nickname and the crude words making you dizzy, and you let out what you hoped was a confirmatory sound. He only huffed in response, and you could tell that he was starting to get close to his release. His hips had started to buck, albeit slightly, and his groans had turned to unintelligible moans. 

He cursed again, and you were barely able to glimpse his head roll back, hat hitting the ground. He didn’t care, continuing to fuck your face, and you desperately ground against your hand. “So good, fuck,” he panted, and you let your eyes flutter shut.

They shot open when you heard him moan your name, but you had little time to appreciate the way he said it. He pressed down hard on the back of your head, holding you there, your nose pressed flat against his body. A plethora of curses fell from his lips as he came, his cum spurting deep down your throat. 

He let go, hands falling to his sides, and you removed yourself, coughing and gasping for air. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your jaw aching, but it was the best pain you’d ever felt. He stared at you with lustful eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. 

Holy shit. You were tired, but you wanted more. But you weren’t expecting him to do anything else tonight. This wasn’t a partnership; he’d gotten his release. You’d need to deal with it on your own. 

So caught up in what you were expecting, you gasped when you felt his lips graze the corner of your mouth. His hand cradled your cheek, leather growing damp, and you felt his lips brush the tears that had fallen on the other cheek. You realized he was licking your tears away, and when he registered that you noticed he chuckled, muttering something about not wanting to waste water. You let out an airy chuckle in return, still not fully wrapping your head about what had and what is transpiring. 

“Guess one good thing came from that mouth,” he teased, referencing his earlier threat. He tugged you up, and you stood with knees shaking like a fawn. You’re certain you looked like a mess but he either didn’t care or really enjoyed it. 

You really had no idea what was going to happen next. You observed him with wide eyes, and you couldn’t help the bewildered look when you saw him stroking himself, still rock hard like he hadn’t just come. He chuckled when he saw what had caused you to react. “One good thing ‘bout bein’ a ghoul,” he rasped. “Stamina.”

His own raked down your body, honing in on the way your thighs pressed together, and they flicked back up to your own. “Take it off.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, the zipper on your suit quickly becoming undone. Even though the air was hot, it still felt nice against your hot skin. He didn’t blink as you undressed, eyes clocking in every new inch of exposed skin. Tugging it down your shoulders and off your arms, you let it fall to the ground, the material pooling at your ankles. 

Left in only your bra and underwear, you kicked the Vault-Tec suit off your feet, and you stood there, unsure. “All of it,” he continued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

As you reached for the clasp of your bra, you watched him lean forward slightly, eyes watching you like you were the most delicious meal he was about to devour. Tossing the garment beside you, you reached for the waistband of your underwear. He raised a hand, making your halt, your fingers barely looped under the band.

With two fingers, he gestured you forward, grinning when you complied easily. His hands batted away your own, and you felt he begin to peel it away himself. He was almost eye level with your navel, and you felt his breath caress your stomach. It was like he was unwrapping a present, the way he ripped it down your legs, and it fell around your ankles like the suit. 

You were hardly able to kick it away before he pulled you onto his lap, your hands bracing against his still clothed chest. The couch made a very audible noise, on the virgo of collapsing, but neither of you seemed to hear it. One of your legs straddled his thigh, your bare center pressed against his pants, no doubt soaking the material.

 “You’re wearing too much,” you found yourself commenting, and you felt him chuckle. He took his hands off your waist, holding them in front of you so you could clearly see him take off his gloves, tossing them by his gun. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, realizing that that was all you were getting from him. 

You weren’t complaining, though, when his bare hands touched you for the first time. Along with the marred skin, his fingers were calloused, years and years of harsh life, fighting, and shooting making them so, but they were the best things you’d ever felt touch your soft skin.

He seemed to be having similar thoughts, humming appreciated as he felt your body, fingers dancing up your sides. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, and you sighed as he continued his exploration upwards. Worn hands cupped your breasts, fingers toying with your perked nipples, and you unconsciously pressed your chest forward. “Look at ya,” it felt like he was mostly talking to himself, “you ain’t gotta mark on your body.” You felt his mouth graze your breasts, lips ticking you as he spoke. 

You jumped when his teeth made contact with the delicate skin of the top of your breasts, and he chuckled. Moving lower, he took one of your nipples between his lips, his hand making sure the other one was receiving the same attention. His tongue flicked, sucked, and the occasional nip had you crying out, jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. One of your hands settled on the back of his head, the other sneaking back between your legs.

With that surprising speed, he caught your wrist, not even tearing his mouth away from you. You let out a noise of complaint, and you could feel him grin. His hands left your breasts, settling back on your waist, and you felt him begin to rock you back and forth on his thigh. With every rock, your clit ground against the tensed muscle, and you let out small moans, small waves of pleasure crashed through your body.

When he felt you begin to move on your own, he let go, returning his touch to your breasts, playing and massaging them as you got off on his thigh. His mouth trailed up your body, leaving a trail of small kisses and ginger bites, your once smooth skin now slightly indented. Having been worked up for a while, you felt that you were growing close to release, his ministrations bringing you closer. 

He was at your neck now, and he bit particularly hard at the thick tendon there. He laughed when he felt your hips begin to rock harder, and you felt his tongue smooth over the bitten skin. “I-” you tried to speak, but an airy whine from your throat cut you off. Your thighs were trembling, and you could feel the damp patch that had formed on his pants, but you couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed right now. 

“You close, sugar?” Not trusting your voice, you nodded instead. “Fuck, yeah you are. C’mon, let me feel ya,” he groaned, mouthing at your neck. 

It only took a few more rolls of your hips before you came, his name tumbling from your lips as a loud cry, pleasure igniting all your nerves. Your stubbed nails dug into the back of his head, and he growled. Your whole body was trembling as you rode out your high, only ceasing the movement of your hips when it became too overstimulating.

A shocked laugh left you, and you slumped forward. That seemed to be the last straw for the couch, the furniture collapsing beneath the two of you. It nearly caused to tumble off his lap, but you felt his hands secure under your thighs. He stood, holding you like you weighed nothing, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his body. 

He eased you to the ground, the sand digging uncomfortably into your skin, causing your back to arch off the ground to avoid feeling it. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out when you watched him shrug off his jacket, tucking behind you wordlessly. These small glimpses of humanity you’d seen from the Ghoul, like when he saw the crib, or when he gave you a way lead you to believe that maybe he wasn’t as bad as you originally believed him to be.

Well, you still hated him, and you were still his captive, but you realized that he wasn’t a complete monster. It was moments like this, where those high walls he’d built to survive in the Wasteland began to crumble, and you could see glimpses of the man you assumed he once was.

He didn’t give you much time to reflect, though, because his lips were crashing against yours, and all thoughts disappeared. Your legs were still wrapped around his waist, and you could feel his cock pressed against your folds. He didn’t press in though, and you whined against his lips, moving your hips as best you could to try and get him to move. “Whatdya want, sweetheart?” He murmured, nestling his head in the crook of your neck. 

“You,” you gasped out.

“I’m right here,” he chuckled a bit, and he still didn’t move.

Groaning, you ground against him again, trying to get him to just push himself into you. He groaned, yet he still didn’t move, his resolve stronger than you anticipated. “Fuck me, please,” you choked out, and you could see him smirk in satisfaction. 

He didn’t respond, and you felt him press into you, sheathing into you with a single thrust. Similar noises of pleasure escaped both your mouths, and your fingers wove into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to find something to grip onto. He stretched you out so well, and you gasped when you felt his hips press against you. He was so deep inside of you, father than any other person you’d taken to bed, and it overwhelmed you in all the best ways.

“Sugar, you feel incredible.” You babbled something in response, and you hated how proud he looked. He didn’t give you time to adjust before he was setting a brutal pace, hips snapping against yours. The sound of skin on skin and your cries of his name filled the room, and you swore if you gripped any tighter on his shirt that it would rip.

Small puffs of air tickled your neck with every thrust, whispers of your name hidden in the gasps. Fingers dug into your waist, most likely going to leave marks in the morning, your once smooth skin littered with marks of him. You couldn't see what your body looked like right now, but you had a pretty damn good idea, and the picture you visualized in your mind had you clenching around him, causing him to falter, albeit it only for a second.

Despite the slight overstimulation you were feeling, you could feel another orgasm begin to form, slowly but surely. Letting go of his shirt, you grasped at his face, pulling back up for another breath-stealing kiss. You were so caught up in the way he continued to thrust into you and the way his mouth slotted against yours that you failed to notice the way one of his hands left your waist. 

You broke the kiss with a startled yet pleased nosed when you felt his fingers begin to work at your clit, rubbing fervent circles into the sensitive nerves in time with the thrusts of his hips. “Cum on my cock, sweetheart. C’mon,” he groaned out, and your head hit the ground, barely softened by the jacket and the sand. 

His name had turned into soft pants, unable to form a coherent thought as he relentlessly fucked you. The added stimulation brought you closer to the edge, and you tried to let him know you were getting close. “Go ‘head, lemme feel ya,” his accent had been cranked up to a hundred, and in any other situation you would’ve found that funny. 

With a final cry of his name, you came again, your vision going white as you temporarily spaced out, the pleasure too overwhelming. When you came to, he had pulled out of you, leaving you empty and shivering. You watched as he stroked himself a few more times before he came all over your stomach.

It was only the sound of breathing in the room now, both of you just staring at each other as you calmed. Relaxing on his coat, you watched as he stood, tucking himself back into his pants as he did. Closing your eyes, you focused on your breathing, jumping when you felt a cloth on your stomach, wiping away his release from your skin. 

He didn’t say anything, tossing the cloth to one of the corners of the room when he was done. He placed your clothing beside you, before sitting and resting against the collapsed remnants of the couch, head rolling back. 

Groaning, you broke free from the post-orgasmic haze you were in, sitting upright. Both pleasure and pain still lingered in your muscles, making your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Slipping on your undergarments, the dampened fabric of your underwear was incredibly uncomfortable, but you gritted your teeth and ignored it. After putting on your bra, you debated putting on the Vault-Tec suit, but the idea of putting it back on made our overheated body cry. 

The Ghoul watched you as you redressed, thinly veiled desire and interest flicking in those eyes. You were now sitting upright on his jacket, and you got up onto your knees, freeing the garment and holding it in your arms. Scooting towards him, you held it out to him with shaking arms, almost like a peace offering. His eyes didn’t leave you as he took it, setting it beside him.

Before you could decide that it was a bad idea, you sat down next to him, shoulders brushing. If he was surprised, he did a good job of hiding. Exhaustion returned, and you felt your eyes begin to flutter close, head bobbing as you struggled to stay awake.

It was your turn to be surprised when you felt him pull your shoulder down, resting your head in his lap. You were even more surprised when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, the material thin enough to not overheat you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes, but he avoided your gaze, staring at the half-standing wall in front of him.

“Rest. We’re leavin’ at sunrise.” His voice was hoarse, back to that commanding tone from earlier. 

Getting as comfortable as you could, you let your eyes shut, sleep beckoning you. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, but as you felt his fingers comb delicately through your hair, you knew that he was no longer going to be following his original plan for you.

[critterbitter]

re: your thoughts on legendaries (which is very cool and based) what’s your take on the differences between legends:arceus giratina and platinum giratina, especially since you defined them as hating the world? specifically the bit where giratina (at least seemingly) actively defended the world from cyrus trying to destroy it, after trying to do the same thing with volo’s help centuries prior?

Weird ghost worm upon yee (AND MORE ART BELOW CUT!)

Anyways, here’s my mad ramblings about Giratina and Arceus’s backstory.

Tldr: Giratina’s a conglomerate of angry souls scorned by Arceus.

(Here’s the playlist. It’s all about worms.)

How it Started.

The original one has chosen favorites over the passage of time. Heroes, legends, protagonists…

Arceus intervenes for those it loves, and the consequences of a god touching the mortal world is devastating in its entirety. One act of divine intervention causes entire civilizations to collapse. One whispered suggestion drives an entire legacy insane.

So Arceus, paralyzed by its love for the mortal world, acts very little, learning from its mistakes. Apathy soaks through every motion. And thus is the way of the world.

But people love the Originator. Religions are born from Arceus’s rare deeds, and generation on generation taught its benevolence. Imagine spending your entire life chasing after that golden light. Imagine knowing its real and there, and it loves you.

Imagine begging it for help, and seeing it turn away when you need it most.

I think those people would feel very abandoned indeed, if they spent their lives worshipping, and receiving no response at all.

Giratina is born from the abandoned, the lost, and the angry. They’re a hundred thousand souls who’s adoration turned to spite. They’re an entity who demands for Arceus to look at them, so they can finally rest.

Arcues can not look at them in full, because if it does Giratina will fade.

(Scio, beloved. For I can not let you go.)

So the Original One banishes the Unwanted Beast into the distortion world, and Giratina seethes, and starves, and screams.

(Here are two truths about the Beast Between Dimensions—

1. Some part of them still loves Arceus. Arceus is their anchor, after all— the sole reason why they exist, why they are. But Arceus can not love it back in a way that matters, and that hurts.

2. Giratina is made of a thousand voices. Some of these voices remember that there’s a world above. They miss it.)

Why Giratina attacked Hisui in PLA:

PLA Giratina’s not a new god, but they’re very, very bitter and barely coherent on a good day. Volo serves as a conduct to help unite the broiling mass of ghosts against Arceus, and thus Giratina’s hatred overcomes any flickering affections they have for the land.

It doesn’t help that Arceus intervened for Hisui, sending Akari to directly stop Volo from summoning Giratina.

(As for Volo, well.

Imagine being a child who was thrown into the future due to Palkia and Dialga’s fits, who learned his people (his world) no longer exist beyond a shadow in the history books and a single, bitter lore keeper.

Volo doesn’t remember his original culture beyond vague imprints and singing praises to Sinnoh, but he knew he was loved, and he knew his family is dust four hundred years in the past. There’s a special sort of rage in him that echoes Giratinas.)

(Why did you abandon my people, Arceus? What kind of god are you, to leave those who love you so callously behind?)

(Maybe some part of Giratina recognizes Volo, beyond a feeling of kinship.

Maybe some part of Giratina grieves because it recognized the child Volo was.)

When Volo gets his pound of flesh, (when he realizes Arceus is not beholden to him, that the inherent alien morality Arceus holds is not a personal slight), Giratina will finally rest.

Anyways what I’m trying to say is: Arceus is never a person, but a nebulous embodiment of the connection shared between pokemon and humans. It tries to experience what it’s supposed to embody, but millennia of watching people be and cease has given it choice paralysis, apathy, and a hoarding issue. If something lasts forever next to it? Good.

Giratina was once a person. (Correction, a LOT of persons.) They don’t think very linearly either, but they have context on mortal matters and are thus the more benevolent and malicious of the two. One day, time will smooth them into something like Arceus. We can only hope the two keep each other in check.

THE DIFFERENCE OF LEGENDS ARCEUS GIRATINA VS PLATINUM PEARL GIRATINA

If the ancient version of giratina is an angry conglomerate of ghosts scorned by Arceus, the modern iteration of Giratina’s a creature that’s more settled in its skin and more assured in its duties. Giratina still has beef with Arceus, but they unionized into one being who’s love of the mortal world has triumphed over its ancestral grudge. One might even postulate they have shifted their anchor from Sinnoh the god, to Sinnoh the place.

((We call this character developement. Good for you, weird ghost worm!))

(((FULL DISCLOSURE, VOLO BEING FROM THE PAST IS INSPIRED FROM FOXFALL. You know. The fic that got me into this fandom. Please give it some love.)))

[hysteria-things]

CAN YOU MAKE A STORY ABOUT MATT AND HIS GF, THEY HAVE SEX AT A RESTAURANT, SHES SITTING ON HIS LAP AND COCKWARMING AND THEN THEY HAVE CAR SEX AND CHRIS CATCHES THEM THEN WHEN THEY GET BACK TO THE HOUSE CHRIS FUCKS MATTS GF VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY SMUT FILLED

PURE ECSTASY (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bf!soft dom!matt, pervert!dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a friend throws a birthday party at the club, but the night doesn’t end there. or with your boyfriend.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, swearing, p in v, cockwarming, public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), slight spit kink, oral (female receiving), getting caught, fingering, finger sucking, cheating (please don’t!), degradation, spanking, choking, sex tape, hair pulling, daddy kink, dumbification, overstimulation, breeding, begging kink, stomach bulge, ROUGHHH ASF

THIS IS NOT A THREESOME!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,017

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: THIS REQUEST😟 (i love it) my new favorite fic holy moly it’s also ovulation week and when that happens i become one with the smut.

hope it’s okay that it’s at a club except restaurant!

for @sturniololovers :)

chatter fills around the booth, and the group gets ready to sit. it’s your friend’s 21st birthday, and of course she chose a club. the volume of the music and drunk people around make it extremely loud that you have to scream to talk to somebody.

purple, blue, and pink lights illuminate throughout the place, and the dance floor is packed with people. most of your friend group already made it to the bar or by the DJ, including nick, madi, and nate. chris sets his jacket down by everybody else’s stuff.

“i’m going to get a pepsi and join the others on the floor. you guys staying here?” he talks over the music, pointing behind him.

“for now.” matt replies, for some reason shimmying in his seat slightly. you shake it off as he tries to get comfortable, waving at chris as he walks off.

the two of you talk, some friends coming and going from the booth to put drinks down or mingle with you guys.

you lean into matt’s side, smiling at what he’s saying. he places his hand on your thigh, making you nuzzle into him more. “sit on my lap.” he says abruptly.

you’re confused, but lift yourself off of the seat to slide yourself to hover over your boyfriend’s lap. he guides your hips down, and you gasp from the sudden stretch.

he smirks. you’re not wearing any panties.

his pants were just past his dick, the thing that your sitting on right now. you feel it growing inside you, cockwarming him in the middle of the club. “matt, we’re in public.” you whine.

he only shrugs. the dress you’re wearing is long enough to cover your sides, so if somebody looks over it seems that you’re innocently sitting on his lap.

“love the way you feel.” he groans in your ear, subtly squeezing your tit.

you glance around mortified, wondering if people can see you. the spot you guys chose is against the wall in the back, but it’s not like you’re invisible. “ride my cock, baby.”

this is crazy you think, but still grip onto the edge of the table anyway. you’ve learned your lesson multiple times before whenever you disobeyed matt, and if you did this time, he’ll likely spread you out on the table and fuck you so everybody can purposely see.

you start by grinding, gasping whenever his girth rubs against your walls. the way he feels already has you clenching. your arousal starts to coat his base, a sign for you to start bouncing.

not so hard, but softly. the grip you have on the table help you steady yourself. you can feel your face turning red, still looking around the club through your lashes. you like the thrill of somebody seeing you guys, but it’s also horrifying.

your head falls between your shoulders to hide your face of pleasure. moans lowly fall from your mouth, your eyes rolling back each time his tip brushes against your g-spot. “o-oh, matt, baby.” you moan in a high pitch, biting your lip when somebody walks by.

thank the lord people are too tipsy or distracted to look over here. you shake in his lap, another pitched moan flowing through the air. you exhale, lifting your head so it rests on the side of matt’s cheek.

he kisses your temple. “go ahead, baby. cum on my cock.”

whimpering, your orgasm washes through your body and onto his dick. you sigh of relief, catching your breath at the same time. “gonna cum in this beautiful cunt.” matt grunts when he twitches inside you.

you squirm, mumbling something along the lines of it spilling out of you. “don’t worry about that, honey. i’ll take care of it soon.”

the bottom of your dress is hoisted past your stomach, matt’s hold on your legs firm as you’re spread out in the backseat of the minivan.

by ‘taking care of it soon’, he meant cleaning it up for you.

the club’s music still bumps to the beat of the song it’s playing, even if you guys are in the parking lot.

you twitch beneath him, your eyes crossing and mouth agape. his tongue works wonders between your legs. you still feel sensitive from your previous orgasm from inside the club, the same orgasm that leaks around his lips as he digs into your needy hole.

soft moans and whimpers escape you, the windows fogging up from the heavy breathing and sweat.

he pulls away, bringing his face to hover over yours. he’s smiling foolishly at your trance. your arousal glistens around his mouth, his hair disheveled. “think you can take me again?”

you grip onto his biceps when he starts railing into you, your face scrunching up. you squeeze your eyes shut, but they open as soon as his hand grabs your jaw. “open your mouth.”

you obey, and he spits in it before kissing you open-mouthed. he consumes your sounds, the way your bodies are conjoined causes a slap noise every time his hips meet your pelvis.

bang bang bang.

the both of you jump at the fist hitting against the window, stopping in position. even though the windows are fogged, matt can tell who it is.

he rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “what do you want, chris? we’re kind of in the middle of something, here.”

“stop fucking and open the goddamn door. i need my chapstick.” there’s silence. “and don’t be naked.”

matt pulls your dress down, zippering his pants. he crawls to the front seat to unlock the door.

the door immediately swings open, chris leaning on the passenger's side to grab his chapstick that’s in the cup holder.

you tap your fingers on your chest, patiently waiting for this weird encounter to be over. you see chris in your vision, looking at you. you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes scan your body, but you���re not entirely sure.

“sorry to break this up but you guys need to head back in. everybody’s looking for you,” he says before leaving.

what a buzzkill.

lil skies music blasts throughout the house, scaring you awake from your sleep. it’s the early morning, around 3 AM.

you’re spending the night at the triplet’s house, your dress now substituted with one of matt’s shirts. you must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because once you adjust to the dark you realize you’re in the living room.

you check your phone, squinting at the sudden brightness.

my boy💙

went out on a long drive, i’ll pick up some mcdonald’s when i’m on my way back :)

2:47 AM

and you know nick’s staying over at madi’s tonight, so the culprit for the disruption is no other than chris sturniolo.

you groggily lift yourself off the couch, shuffling your way down the hall. you don’t bother knocking, and you make your way into chris’s room. his back is facing you, the tone in his muscles showing.

you clench your thighs without knowing.

he’s doing something on his phone when you mumble, but he clearly can’t hear you.

“can you turn that down? i’m trying to sleep,” you say louder, and he turns his head to you. he pauses the music, walking over.

“what?”

“please lower that. you woke me up,” you say lowly, staring at your feet.

he chuckles. “sorry.”

he takes his finger and lifts your chin so you look at him, his eyes set on your mouth as he takes his thumb and grazes it over your bottom lip. “you’re not as much of a prude as i thought.”

“e-excuse me?!” you stutter shockingly, another chuckle coming from the boy.

“you think i don’t know that you rode my brother in the middle of the club? then you guys went to the car to finish the job, no?”

your face goes pale. you understand how he knows about the car since he caught you guys, but not when you were at the club.

“h-how do you—”

“i observe.” he cuts you off. “i watched the way you bounced on his dick. can’t forget the pretty sounds i heard from the cracked window matt forgot to close.”

your cheeks become hot, your thighs yet again squeezing tight.

“thank you.” chris smiles at the bartender, spinning himself in the barstool to look around the club. this isn’t quite his scene, but he couldn’t miss out on a friend’s birthday.

he sips his pepsi, his elbow resting on the bar’s surface before landing his eyes on where your guy’s seats are.

you’re bouncing subtly on matt’s lap, face turning in different expressions.

chris grabs his crotch, his dick twitching in his pants as it threatens to grow at the sight. he’s not stupid and knows exactly what you’re doing.

his brother whispers something into your ear before placing you back next to him and taking your hand to walk out of the building.

he waits a few minutes before following you guys, leaving a tip for the bartender before doing so.

the van catches his eye instantly, the windows slowly becoming fogged and moans echoing in the air. your moans, the moans he wants to cause more than anything.

his plan to not get hard fails when his pants tighten, the sinful sounds becoming more intense when the car starts to rock.

before he knows it, he’s jogging over and banging on the window.

“you-you pervert!” you shout, wanting to remove chris’ stupid thumb from your lips; but you don’t. he hums, leaning to where his lips ghost yours.

“yet you’re turned on by it.” he whispers. “you’re telling me you’re not dripping between your legs right now?”

“i-i’m not.”

he takes his other hand and reaches under the shirt, his theory confirmed true.

he smirks. you’re not wearing any panties.

the same smirk matt had in the club when he realized you were bare underneath. your boyfriend matt. his fucking brother.

pull yourself together, y/n.

“you sure?” chris says, passionately connecting his lips with yours. he rubs two fingers on your slick slit, your breath hitching.

pull. yourself. together. y/n.

he rubs once more before inserting the fingers into you, making you break the kiss and moan pathetically.

the thumb that was on your lip now goes into your mouth, and you suck on it. your hands bunch on his chest.

he lifts one of your legs to make his fingers plunge deeper into you, curling to hit the right spot. the leg he’s holding quivers desperately. “is the needy bitch going to cum on my fingers?”

you hum approvingly on his thumb before he removes it, your eyes never leaving contact with his. you tense, smearing your white liquid on his fingers.

brain foggy, you grumble two syllables. he heard you right, but wants to hear it loud and clear. “what was that?”

“fuck me.”

because he certainly doesn’t have to be told twice, he picks you up and props your ass up on his mattress.

he unties his plaid pajama bottoms, grabs your neck, and shoves your face into the pillows. he smacks your ass. hard.

“such a bad girl.” he slaps again, aligning his tip with your entrance. “gonna let me fuck you, even though you’re dating my brother.”

he spanks you three more times, tears building up in your eyes from the pleasurable pain. you grip onto the pillows when he starts to slowly fill you.

you utterly hate to admit this, but he’s bigger than matt. you gasp loudly, your pussy morphing into the shape of his dick when he’s in.

he throws his head back, eyes closed as he smiles smugly. he’s been wanting to do this for months.

his hips start rutting into you harshly, squeals leaving your lips the deeper he gets.

it gets to the point where he pulls out to just the tip and slams back into you. he repeats this action over and over again.

you bite down on the pillow to suppress your loud moans, the headboard banging against the wall.

he squeezes your throat tighter. “you filthy fucking thing.”

his hand meets your asscheek once again, and your body shakes from a sob. “he-e’s coming— back— soon.” you manage to say between whines.

“good.” his tip reaches your spot, your toes curling at the bliss. “maybe he can walk in to see his girl creaming all over my cock instead of his.”

once he said that you smear your release around him. his jaw slacks, quickly grabbing his phone that he threw on the bed the moment you came in.

you came in just as he was about to pull up your instagram — like he always does — whenever he needs something to masturbate to.

this, however, is so much better.

“c-cumming inside you.” he moans lowly, shooting his load deep into you.

his thrusts become slow, panning the camera to the mess you guys just made. “christ.” he whispers, pulling out to watch you leak his cum. “look at that.”

you’re not able to catch your breath when he’s fucking into you again. this time, faster.

hoarsely whimpering, he removes the hand from your neck and instead grabs your hair. he pulls your head up from the pillows, your moans now echoing throughout the room.

chris brings the camera in front of your face so you can see yourself.

you’re completely wrecked, strands of hair that he’s not holding all up in your face. your mouth’s open wide, spit dangling from your bottom lip and onto the sheets below. eyes rolling back when that familiar spot gets hit, spilling tears.

“say hi to matt, ma.”

“mm— h-hi matt,” you say incoherently, chris letting go of your hair, your head falling face down back on the pillows.

he brings the phone to his face, still drilling into you like he’s never going to stop.

he grins at the camera, lips swollen and red. “this pussy’s fucking incredible. thanks for letting me use her, man.”

he props his phone against the lamp on his nightstand, making sure to have a good angle. especially of the shirt you're wearing, specifically matt’s pink shirt with a teddy bear on it. the shirt that he loves on you.

“daddy!” you whimper, too late to take it back. “g-gonna cum, daddy.”

you let out a series of scream-like moans, chris hissing from the back.

“fuck, don’t do that to me.” he exhales, throbbing in your cunt. “you’re so fucking tight. all of this cum for me?”

“ah— mhm!” you choke out.

chris isn’t so far behind, but he wants to hold it for his own sake.

he turns your head on its side so you can look at the camera once again, his hand returning to your throat. “see that? this is exactly what the whore needs to look like.” he says into the phone as if he’s talking to someone. as if he’s talking to matt. “no thought in that brain except the feeling of a cock fucking the shit out of her; until she begs you to stop.”

he knew that the last part of that sentence was coming soon because your eyes were starting to close.

your pussy pulses, another orgasm threatening to escape. you try to crawl out of his grip, but he pushes you back onto him more. this brand new spot he’s hitting has you seeing stars.

“don’t run from me now, my dirty little cumslut.” he pants, looking at the dick imprint inside your abdomen. “holy shit. you’re fucking bulging.”

“please, daddy!” you mewl. “s-stop! it’s too much, chris—” he squeezes your ass, catching your mistake. “daddy! to-too much!”

in all honesty, you’re not exactly sure if you really want him to stop.

“i know, angel. just a few more minutes, okay? i know you have one more. what are we at, four now?”

“gonna cum nice and deep in ya, so you’ll be walking around for days with a swollen belly full of it.” his hand makes contact with your ass, your eyes shooting open. it has to be bruised at this point. “this is exactly how sluts like you should be treated. isn’t that right?”

“ngh— y-yes, daddy. cum in m-me, please.”

your body weakens, becoming limp. you’re in an overwhelming amount of pleasure you can’t even moan anymore. instead, you pant like a dog and stick your tongue out because of the overstimulation. your body rocks at the inhuman pace he’s going. your vision starts to fade, like you’re going to pass out.

pure ecstasy, is what it is.

his thrusts become sloppy, slowing down before coming to a halt. he moans, the feeling of his sticky substance filling your womb. “thank you, daddy. thank you, thank you!” you chant, eyes closing.

he pulls out slowly, the squelching noise music to his ears. there’s a string of cum connecting from his tip to your cum-filled cunt.

he takes his phone, doing a shot of the way your abused hole swallows his ropes of white. “this pussy let me breed you real nice.”

spreading your folds to do one final show of his cum spewing out, you jolt from the sensitivity of his finger pushing it back inside you. poor thing, red and swollen. the flutter of it making it easier for his orgasm to spill out. he ends the video, whispering praises into your ear while kissing your face.

you hear a camera click behind you as he snaps a quick photo of the disgusting mess you two made. the smell of sex floods your nostrils.

chris isn’t that much of an asshole to where he’ll actually send the video to matt. he’s cocky, only having the sex tape to himself to jerk off to. it’ll boost his ego tremendously, that’s for sure.

what’s in the back of his mind is if matt pisses him off in the slightest, he’ll have no problem showing him what his girlfriend looks like clamping down on his brother’s dick.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @rootbeerworshiper @heartlessturniolos @chrisloyalgf @yoinkurnanuhoe @smoothies-are-cool @strtuniolo @1800chokedathoe @sturniolowhore @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani

[seresinhangmanjake]

His and Yours

Summary: When you're told your pregnancy could cost you your life, Feyd demands you do whatever necessary to keep yourself alive. When you decide to have the baby anyway, it creates a rift in your relationship. Only when you go into labor, does Feyd show himself for who he really is.

Warnings/ Notes: Very angsty, but ends on a happy note. Very sensitive topics about pregnancy, abortion, and conversations about potential death. It’s Feyd here people, and we can imagine how he’d be with sensitive topics. Please only read if you understand this. Requested by @tgmreader

**While it is not necessary to read my other work to read this fic, this works also as another part to my "His" series. However, (even though it ends on a happy note) if this content makes you uncomfortable, it is not necessary to read in order to understand any future parts in the series. I know people love them together and that this is a difficult issue, so do not feel obligated.**

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Words: 2950

“Feyd…” you sigh as you watch him pace back and forth. He doesn’t so much as acknowledge you until you attempt to get up from your seat to go to him.

With an outstretched arm and a finger pointed directly at you, he says in a harsh tone—harsher than you’ve heard in a long time, “Don’t you move a fucking inch!”

You plop back into your seat. “We have to talk about this.”

“No!” he snaps. He descends upon you with rushed stomps, his hands gripping the armrests of your chair. You have to tilt your head back to meet his fiery gaze. “There will be no talking about this,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “No discussion. No negotiations. No weighing the pros and cons.” You swallow as a tear builds in the corner of your eye. Feyd groans and pushes away from the chair. “Stop crying.”

“What do you expect from me?”

“To not die!” he shouts, his voice echoing through the vast, empty room. “I expect my wife to do whatever she has to in order to keep me happy! That’s your job!”

You glance down. Your hand runs over the slightly bulbous shape of your stomach. A tear creates a dark patch on the fabric of your dress. A dress he picked out for you. He’d been so enthusiastic about every element related to your pregnancy, including dressing his wife in new gowns as you grew with the passing months. This is one of the first he’d chosen. 

“I thought my job was to provide you with an heir,” you say.

“Not at the cost of your life!”

He had almost missed the appointment for more professional matters. Now you wish he had. When the doctor told you that you might not survive giving birth, he gave you a choice: risk having the child anyway or drink a tonic that will terminate your pregnancy while it’s still safe. You knew Feyd’s mind was made up in that very moment. But yours wasn’t. This is your child, a perfect combination of you and the only man you’ve ever loved, and yet, your questioning of what is best has your husband looking at you like you’ve lost your damn mind; like you’re a fool with a knack for selfishness.

“I’m the na-Baron,” he says. “You’re under my authority. I decide for the both of us.”

You shake your head. “That’s not fair.”

“I don’t care if it’s fair! We can make a hundred heirs, but there isn’t another you!” he screams. You wonder if the rest of the Harkonnen fortress hears—the soldiers, the servants. You wonder if they fear for their lives because of an outburst that has nothing to do with them. They should. Your husband is likely to go on a rampage throughout the place the moment this conversation ends, should it ever.

When you shrivel in your chair, a crease dents the center of his brow. Feyd returns to you, his warm palms cupping your cheeks, his forehead resting against yours. “You can’t ask me to let you do this,” he says with a subtle whimper. “I won’t ever forgive you.”

“What about my forgiveness of you?”

Feyd jerks back. The pain in his eyes shrinks under darkness. “You have nothing to forgive me for.”

Finally, you stand. “You want me to give up our baby,” you argue. “You don’t think I deserve to–”

“No!” You jump. “I care about you! I love you! Not some thing that wants to take you away from me!”

“Feyd–”

“I refuse to continue this conversation,” he says. “I’ve made the decision. It’s done.”

—

He’d tried everything. He had meal preparers mix it in with your usual dinner drink until the nasty sludge color disappeared. He attempted to have your maidservants slip it into your morning tea, your evening glass of warm milk, and, even more desperately, into your bathwater. However, the only servants close enough to you that he could demand such a task from became primarily loyal to you after your marriage six months prior, and as a result, each one informed you of his plans. Five servants fell to your husband's blade before he surrendered that tactic to attempt anew. But with his final effort, what died between you was nothing other than what had been keeping you together—affection. 

With your feelings numb, there was little foundation for your relationship to stand upon. When he took you and made you his concubine, Feyd kept you safe. He did the physical work to protect you in a newly twisted relationship while you did all of the emotional work. You broke down the walls he’d built, got him to open up, showed him that caring for you wouldn’t be the end of the world. Convincing you to get rid of your baby was the hardest he’d ever emotionally worked for you, and since failure was not a thing he had known, nothing was going to stop him. 

He didn’t understand that kissing you with the tonic filling his mouth was too far, even for what he’d already done. He didn’t understand that he had already lost so much of your trust with his deceit and that that kiss was enough to scorch the rest of it. You might have left him had you not been able to wash the substance from your mouth before it could do its damage. 

When you first turned him away, he threw his fits. He screamed at you and for you every day until you made it clear you weren’t coming to him, but even then, he didn’t allow you to neglect the expectations he had for you. In front of others, you were to act as his wife—stand by his side, attend meetings in silence, kiss him goodbye before his trips to Arrakis—but the larger your belly grew, the less he was willing to have you near. 

You don’t sleep in the same bed now. You don’t take your meals together or bathe together or, frankly, see one another. He looks the other way when he crosses your path. His fists clench like he wants to touch you, his Adam’s apple bobs like he’s holding back from kissing you, but his eyes refuse to meet yours, and he won’t go near you. 

You know he's preparing himself to lose his wife. Anger, while present, hasn’t been the dominant fuel for his behavior for a while, and neither is it yours. You were furious, but with your baby due in a month, you struggle to bear the loneliness, and the longer he continues to treat you like you’re a plague, the more you miss him, and the more you fear for your child. Who will love it if you are not here? Who will protect it and teach it and nourish it? Certainly not the one who should and once promised he would. And as the days close in, you wonder if he was right. If you made a mistake. 

—

I need him—that’s all you can think as your baby fights to leave your body. You need your husband here, and the reasons are far too overwhelming, but you can’t focus on anything else. You miss him. You can’t do this alone. And if you die today, you have to say goodbye. You have to tell him you love him and make him swear to protect your child, or it was all for nothing. 

“I need him,” you screech through your teeth with the contraction that hits you.

“My Lady–” one of the nurses begins. Her voice is shaky, worried eyes flicking back and forth between yours and the doctor between your legs who has just reached for another clean rag after discarding a blood-soaked one. “My Lady, the na-Baron–”

“I don’t care! I need him!”

He must’ve been there, listening, because Feyd’s through the door in an instant, and as his eyes lock on to yours, everything else—all the pain and lies—is shoved behind you. He takes a step forward but pauses, momentarily distracted by the wear on your body, before he blinks and continues forward, shoving people aside to get to you. He falls to his knees by your bed and when your hand reaches out, he clutches it tightly in both of his. Too tightly. You can feel your pulse throbbing harder from the pressure on your veins, but you don’t care. 

“Feyd, I–”

“Don’t do this to me,” he mutters as tears well in his eyes. The first you’ve ever seen. He didn’t so much as shed a tear on your wedding day or when you told him you were pregnant, but as the first one falls down his cheek, you realize he’s about to make up for every missed opportunity. 

You can’t respond. You don’t have it in you to tell him that you won’t do anything to him, that you won’t hurt him, that you’ll be fine, and that you’ll be a family. You’re too exhausted to lie. He seems to know it because he doesn’t make the request again. Instead, he kisses your fingers over and over, repeating words of love that are not often said. 

“My Lady, I know it hurts, but if you can shift downwards a bit,” the doctor starts. “At this angle, we might be able to–”

Feyd wipes his eyes and shoots to his feet. “You can save her?”

“There might be a better chance.”

You groan as you maneuver your body. Feyd does what he can to assist, but it doesn’t ease the searing, stabbing feeling at your core. 

“That’s better,” the doctor praises. 

“She’s your priority,” Feyd says sternly.

You gasp. “N-No…”

Your husband’s head whips back to you. “I’m not watching you die,” he growls. 

“For…our baby,” you say to Feyd’s hardened features. You cry harder for the pain of realizing that out of you and your baby, he would still choose you. You don’t know why you expected any different. In the five minutes of his presence, he gave no indication of a change of heart, but it’s disappointing all the same. “P-Please.”

The doctor doesn’t look up from the task at hand but listens for further instruction. “My Lord?”

Feyd stares at you for a long while, his expression unchanged. He doesn’t squeeze your hand or kiss your forehead or brush away the damp hair from your forehead with your next contraction. He doesn’t flinch at your joining shriek. He’s gone, lost in the world of his thoughts until he decides to come back. His eyes close. He grinds his back teeth. His brow pinches and he shakes his head.

“The baby,” Feyd struggles to get out. He pauses before he says, “And then my wife.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

The next half-hour is white-hot, blinding agony. You can no longer move—a statue as the doctor slices pieces of you open to accommodate your child’s position. He doesn’t want to come out. He doesn’t want to leave his mother. You can’t blame him. If you had the same fate awaiting you upon joining the world, you might not rush to leave the confines of comfort either. He has no reason to separate himself from everything he’s known to fall into the hands of a man who does not love him. But his unwillingness to leave you is what will eventually take you from him. 

You can feel it. The draining. Of blood. Of life. Your energy is long gone and at this point, you can’t imagine lasting long enough to be saved, even if you survive just in time to hear your baby’s first cry. 

“We’re almost there,” the doctor says. His words are hazy as your brain drifts, struggling to keep you conscious. But then you feel a release of pressure, a missing weight. Emptiness. Solitude.

“Save my wife!” you hear in the aftermath, but you’re not worried about that. You need to know he’s ok and perfect and that he has all of his fingers and toes. You need to know if he has a dusting of hair on his head, or if he’s like your husband. Does he more resemble his father? Complexion and eyes and lips poutier than yours? You need to know these things about your son. 

But you suppose you never will. Your vision is too blurry to make out his tiny form, but among Feyd’s shouts, you hear a beautiful little wail as your eyelids flutter closed. And that’s enough. 

—

The last thing you heard upon your death is the first thing you hear when you wake. And it terrifies you. Surely, you should not be hearing that sound. If you can hear him, then he’s with you, and he can’t be with you because you’re not here. Not really. You don’t exist on the plane he should be existing on. You exist in darkness now, and he was only ever meant to see the light. That’s what you saved him for. That’s what you used every remaining ounce of your will and soul and heart to do. You left so he could stay. So how could he be with you?

“Can you hear him?” 

Yes. You cannot see him, but you can hear him. He sounds so much like you remember. His coos are not the wails, but the noises are brothers. You part your lips to call his name only to realize you never got the chance to give him one. 

“He’s perfect,” the voice says. “Everything about him.” A tear trickles down your cheek. “I need you to meet him. He wants to see his mother.”

You want to see him, too, so badly, and as you feel the desire, a flash of light shoots across your vision. One flash, and then another. Another flash, and then one more. Brightness obscures every image as your eyes shift, attempting to take in your surroundings. You’re not sure this is better. In the darkness, you can rest. This is simply torturous, and your baby is not even here. 

Heat from a heavy, shaky sigh hits your skin. Relief. Lips land on yours for a long beat before finding your forehead. A skull presses to your skull. The breath is taken from your lungs by another kiss. A droplet splashes onto your cheek. 

“You don’t ever do this to us again.” When your vision adjusts, your husband is there. “Do you understand me?”

You nod before you can think not to, before you can think that Feyd is not meant to be here, either. But if he is here, then why does he look so happy? Would he really rather the three of you be gone forever than to raise your baby without you? You scold your idiocy. Of course, he would. 

“You were out for three days,” he says. “Longest three days of my life.”

Out. Not dead. Not gone. 

Feyd helps you sit up. He disappears and then returns with a bundle of fabric. “Look,” he says, smiling, sniffling, and then smiling again. Two of his fingers gently nudge a section of the blanket aside to reveal a tiny face. Tiny nose, tiny lips, tiny eyes. Lashes that rest on tiny cheeks. A much smaller spitting image of your husband. “He’s got your eyes, I promise,” Feyd says, and your son proves it when his eyelids flutter open. 

“Do you think you’ve got the strength to hold him?”

You nod again. “Y-Yes,” you say, like it’s your first word. 

Feyd uncurls his arms from the baby and settles him into your awaiting ones. He’s lighter than you expected—probably to do with coming a little early—but the weight of him snaps the bits of you that were lagging behind in the unconscious world to the present. You gasp.

You’re alive. Your baby is alive. Your husband is here. They’re both beautiful. “I’m alive.”

Feyd sits back down in the chair that is pulled up to the side of your bed. He swallows. “Yes. Barely, for a moment, but…yes.”

You cuddle your baby to your chest and run your finger down his nose. He’s softer than the blanket that snuggles him. Soft like you rather than his father. He’ll grow strong like the man you can’t help loving, but he’ll have more heart, and that balance will make him a great Baron one day. A great man. 

“Do you hate me?” Feyd asks. “For what I did?”

Your head hurts and you still feel groggy, but you’re aware enough to know that you don’t hate him. You can’t hate him. It shocks you that he doesn’t know that, but then again, he’d never done anything like what he did before, and if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t know that he wouldn’t do it again should you fall pregnant with another child. You don’t trust him right now, and there’s only one thing that could ever convince you to attempt repairing that trust. 

“Do you love him?” you say as you gently rock your baby. 

Feyd glances down at your son. There’s no contemplation. “More than anything.”

“You’ll protect him?”

His eyes flick back up to yours. “With my life,” he says. And you believe him. 

You became a mother the second you felt that little life growing inside of you, but you can accept that upon looking at your son, spending time with him, your husband learned to become a father. Had you died, you don’t know what would have happened, but you can’t dwell on that and hope to keep your family together at the same time. He loves the child you made together, and that’s all you ever wanted. 

“Then, no,” you tell him. “I don’t hate you.”

[m4sc4r4]

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