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etfrin · 1 year ago

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⤷❝Mine To Love | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, mentions of caging/locking you up (doesn't do it though), hair pulling, breath play if you squint, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), pinv sex, blowjob, male masterbation, cunnilingus, mating press, mentions of Lucy Gray, no spoilers | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow realizing his feelings for you, being fucked up about it and fucks you!

⇢☾A/N: don't romanticize, it's dark romance so y'all are warned! This is set in the same au as The Study (you don't have to read it beforehand but it's recommended)

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > <tag list>

It started slowly, so slow that Snow didn't even realize it. It started with that night in the study after he had you. He didn't touch you again, denying himself of you. You, his wife, a little bird stuck in a cage. The First Lady of Panem was nothing but a doll, a showcase piece for the country.

You played the role well enough, but you weren't a doll at all. You brought life in what was otherwise a stone-cold mannor. The workers cook your favorite, making sure you're the most well-accommodated. Like a Queen. How their shoulders relax and the smile that springs up when they do the tasks that you assigned them. You earned their respect and their loyalty.

You were dangerous yet harmless. It baffled Coriolanus to no end. It started slow. He coincidentally met you in the hallways more and more. After that night, you couldn't make eye contact with him, no longer did you greet him with an awkward hello or a shy smile.

You look down at the floor whenever he passes you by, your body flushing from the mere second of proximity. So obvious and adorable. He loved how easy you were to read, how open you were. Whatever your lips hide, your eyes show. Whatever your soul hides, your body shows.

It started slow. The monthly dinners with the First Lady turned weekly. Every Sunday now he had you sit across him for dinner and he would ask you about your day. Just to be polite, mind you, don't look into it. He would be annoyed by those one-word answers but would never show it. His fingers subtly grasped the glass of wine tighter than he should, his heart pricking his brain into paranoia. ‘What else?’ he wanted to ask, ‘Stop saying it was good. Tell me what made it good.’

Instead of uttering those words, cameras were placed on every inch of the manner with the audio functions so everything is recorded for his and only his view. He watched you walking through the library, your fingertips touching the spines of the books you already read (which was most of them), you didn't even realize new books were added to the collection, all similar to the ones you liked. He watched you stroll the gardens, your face in a frown at the neverending white roses. A red rose and several other flowers were added the next day.

It started slow. He began to talk about his day more and more trying to fill a silence. He started asking for your opinion and oh, how that lighted your eyes up that you were finally doing what you were meant to do. Supporting him not as a doll but as a wife. You begin to talk about your days more, trusting him with your day-to-day activities. You tell him about friends and family, something he wasn't interested in (he has files on every single person you mentioned).

The nights that were dedicated to his needed sleep turned into the witching hours in which he would stroke his cock over the memory of you. His mouth biting into the pillow to stop his groans, hearing them would mean admitting his need for you and he rejected that notion. His cock was oversensitive because he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop fucking into his fist, again and again thinking about you. Not just your pussy but you. Your desperate moans, your lips marking his neck, your slick walls, and everything of you. Your tears, your head on his chest when he had fucked you. Everything.

He wanted to pin you against a wall. He wanted to bend over during dinner. He wanted you on his lap in his study. He wanted to push you to the bed and fuck you until the bed breaks. He wanted you!

The realization made him spill onto his bed sheets for the nth time. A gasp escaped his lips as he realized how deeply you are rooted in him now. He needed to kill you. He can't afford this again. Whatever this is. Obsession? Love? Was there ever a difference? He needed this to end.

‘You don't deserve to be loved,’ he thinks, you were no Lucy Gray after all, you were different. You could never compare to his first and only (not anymore) love. But he had caged you, he had you and knew your every move. The rumors that spread of cheating were seized along with the man who flirted with you. True to your words, you hadn't fallen to the temptations of the Capitol, rejecting their offers politely rather than basking in their attention like before.

‘Good,’ he thought, he had killed everyone who had touched you and it was hard to hide the evidence. “I am so much better than her,” he muttered, “I could do so much better.” He asked himself, ‘Why? After all the promises I made to myself of never repeating the mistake.’

He didn't get a reply but he dreamt of you.

Breakfast had passed, lunch too, he hadn't seen you once today. A quick peek at his monitors showed that you were sleeping in your room. He clenched his jaw, a part of him hating you for sleeping in because it deprived him of seeing you. A part of his heart warmed because your hair was a mess, the shirt you were wearing while sleeping was his, and you looked so darn pretty.

Coriolanus convinced himself that he was going to your room to wake you up. Nobody should sleep this late into the day. It wasn't healthy, and he needed the First Lady to remain healthy. That was all.

He stepped into the room, his footsteps quiet so he didn't alert you. He sits down on the bed, your sleeping figure beside him. Your mouth had dried drool on the corners which made him disgusted but amusement all the same. His hand went to your cheek, he couldn't control the action of his thumb stroking your cheek.

“I should lock you up forever,” he whispered as softly as possible, almost inaudible. “In this room, so no one can see you but me.”

He knew by now his thoughts weren't normal and it would never be. That's him and he had accepted himself. He leaned in closer, his lips inches away from yours. He stopped right before he closed the gap. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent before pulling back.

His hand goes to your shoulder, he shakes you. “Wake up, bird,” he said, his eyes softening when he saw you wake up and peer at him with confused eyes. You yawn, and sit up, your eyes wide when you look at him. You rub them with your hand and blink.

“Is there anything wrong, Coryo?” You asked softly, “Anything I can do to help.” “You should shower and eat first,” he said instead, “and next time don't sleep in. I don't like indiscipline.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, “I was finishing a book.” Your eyes flicker to him, “It's nice by the way! I will tell you about it during dinner.” He wanted to hear about it now, he wanted to pull you closer and kiss your lips, he wanted to push you into the mattress and breed you. He wanted to clean you up after and feed you every kind of feed.

He clenched his jaw, trying to get rid of such thoughts. “We'll see,” he said before walking out of the room, accidentally slamming the door. The first sign of Snow losing control.

The second sign of Coriolanus losing control was how his breath hitched when he saw you during dinner. You are wearing yet another one of his shirts (how do you even get your hands on them) and that's it. A white shirt that reached your knees, you had forgone pants and opted for shorts that couldn't even be seen. Your legs were in complete view, the same legs he wanted wrapped around his waist.

He didn't say a single comment even when it was clear you were waiting for one. ‘Were you trying to seduce him?’ he thinks, ‘Or something else.’ He felt paranoid about you wearing his shirt. Did you want him? Want him to bend you over, press your face onto the table and fuck you like you were an animal?

He felt his pants getting tighter from his thoughts, flashes of what he could do to you, what he had done to you. He couldn't focus as you talked during dinner, he made a mental note to watch the cameras later to know the words you had blessed him with.

It hits him like a wave when dinner ends and you come to him with a book. Tabs were spilling out and it was a hardcover of an old classic that he had to read during the academy.

“You once told me that you liked this book, I spent last night annotating it! I did a few finishing touches before dinner…”

That explains your attire, you were busy formatting this gift for him. He took the book from your hand, he wanted to throw it across the room, he wanted to set it on fire. It was now his most precious treasure, more important than Panem itself.

The truth he denied washes over him. Making him take a sharp breath and your eyebrows etch together in concern. He had once a girl dedicate songs for him, now he had a wife dedicating booms for him. ‘It would be a mistake,’ he told himself, ‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past.’

The desires he shoved at the back of his mind sprang forward and he made a decision. The third sign of Coriolanus surrendering to himself was that he had everyone including the guards leave the dining room. Making your eyes widen from the sudden instruction.

“Is there anything wrong-” you begin to ask before Snow interrupts you. “Here is what's going to happen now. You're gonna be on your knees, you'll take my cock in your mouth and you'll make me cum. Then I will take you to our room and I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name.”

You blink once, twice just staring into his eyes that revealed nothing before you went closer to him and got down on your knees for him. “Like this?” You asked, breathless, your cheeks flushed. He smirked, “Exactly like this, pet.”

“Now part those pretty lips for me,” he said as he unzipped his pants and set his hard cock free. He lets out a chuckle as he sees you eyeing his cock like a long-lost lover. Guess he wasn't the only one thinking about that time.

You part your mouth wide enough for him as he pushes his cock in slowly. No matter how desperate he was a gentleman for his wife. He knew better than to gag you. He stopped when his cock had completely disappeared, his length engulfed into your wet, hot mouth.

He throws back his head as his dick hits the back of your throat. He relishes the sound of your choking around his length. He lets out his groan, trying his hardest not to cum down your throat so soon. His hand is in your hair, keeping you in place like an obedient pet.

You try your best to take in a deep breath as your tongue swirls around his length as much as possible. You weren't the best at blowjobs, but you knew the sloppier the better. Saliva ran down your cheek as you tried your best to focus on his cock underside, your tongue dragging itself across a pulsing vein that reached his cockhead.

You moan around his length as the taste of pre-cum bursts in your mouth. You close your eyes and try your best, bopping your head up and down. You clenched your fist, trying your best not to gag when his cock gets deeper into your throat.

Meanwhile, Snow was a wreck of a man, the heat of your mouth ruining his capability of having coherent thoughts. You were sucking his soul through his dick it seemed to him. His fingers tangled in your locks, gripping your hair tighter as a way to anchor himself to reality.

His blue eyes dilated to almost black as he looks at you taking his cock so well. Like you were made for it. Made for his cock. Made for him. Meant to be his wife, his bird, his pet, and his love. It's destiny, he decided as he pulls you off his cock and uses his suit sleeves to wipe your mouth and chin.

‘Everything leads to this,’ he thought, as he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a kiss to your lips. The saltiness of his taste in your mouth does not deter his tongue from tasting you.

“Go to my- our room,” he whispered to you as he broke the kiss. “I'll be there soon,” he promises as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips kissing your skin. You nod and get off his lap. Your feet drag you into his room.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus takes a deep breath, trying to maintain whatever pathetic excuse of sanity he had held. It didn't work. His cock was hard enough to hurt and his brain made him think. He thinks of removing you, he thinks of keeping you. He thinks of plans to protect you, backup plans to make sure you remain untouched while still maintaining the image of the First Lady. His true possessiveness and obsession flares up in his mind.

‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past,’ he told himself, repeating that line to his head.

He takes a deep breath, a glance at the cameras shows workers and guards kept the halls clear and you were in his room and on his bed waiting for him. Waiting for him to ravish you as you kept playing with the buttons of the shirt, and your underwear on the floor. Your face was crimson but your lower lip was in a darker shade of red with how much you bitten it because of nervousness.

He lets out a huff of air before adjusting himself accordingly. Coriolanus Snow was many things, gentlemen included and gentlemen don't keep their ladies waiting.

You freeze as he enters the room. You swallow nervously, your fingers pausing on the shirt button you were playing with. He glances at the panties that were on the floor and he gives you a little smirk. “Take it all off, my wife,” he said as his hands worked to undress him. His suit was on the floor, his shirt joining it soon enough.

You have to press your thighs together as you see his skin again, a whimper escaping your lips at the sight. He was so beautiful, craved by the angels, breathed to life by the devil. Soon, his pants and boxers were getting ridden off.

You check him out, your gaze hungry. Your fingers shake with desire as you take off your (his) shirt. You let it fall, exposing yourself completely to him, like he did for you. His eyes rack you up, causing a flush to every visible inch of your skin.

“Open your legs,” he said, as he walked closer and got down on his knees for you. “I am hungry,” he said, while his lips pressed to your knee and his lustful eyes bewitched you. You had to bite your tongue to not let a moan from his mere words. You spread your legs wide, letting your cunt come into his view.

Your folds that were glistening with your arousal and your slit which was the cause of your juices fluttered around nothing from his gaze. “Exquisite,” he had whispered, the praise warming you up and making your pussy clench harder. “Eager too,” he chuckles, looking up at you but you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Have your meal,” you mumbled, embarrassed. He pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, making your breath hitch from the contact. A sharp moan escapes when he bites, his teeth digging into the flesh and your hand falls onto his hair. Your fingers grip the blonde locks but you don't try to push him away. Your legs tried to close around him, but his hands made sure to keep them spread as he liked it.

He pulled away, admiring the mark before he pressed another wet kiss to it. His fingers grip your thighs, they hold tight enough to leave marks too.

He takes in a deep breath, nuzzling into your thigh. Your primal scent makes him go wild, his nail digging into your skin as he brings his lips closer to your pussy. One swipe of his tongue onto your folds and he groans louder than you have ever heard him to do so.

“You taste like fucking candy,” he lets out, as his nose bumps into your clit, his tongue messily swirling around your folds, gathering as much of your juices as possible. Your legs were all on his shoulders now as he all but pressed his face, burying himself in your cunt. He takes in a deep breath through his mouth before he begins to ravish you properly.

His mouth taking in your entire pussy and sucking it with such devotion it made you see stars. He laps at your pussy, his tongue never stopping to devour you. You pulled him even closer, your thighs closing around his head. The action only made him. You couldn't see it, but his eyes rolled back from the lack of air and your taste that quickly became his favorite.

His teeth pulled at the outer lips of your pussy, making you cry out and gush more juices. He licks it all up. Before his attention goes to your little bud, his mouth kisses it at first. Then he takes your clit into his mouth to suck without any mercy.

It makes you cry out, the soles of your feet digging into his back as your hips begin to rut against his face. You have no control over your actions. You were gripping his hair so tight you were afraid that you tore away a few strands. Overwhelming pleasure attacked all of your senses as he didn't stop his merciless actions.

You arch your back, your lips moaning his name as heat begins to gather in your body. You cry out, “Close! Coryo! Fuck!” Pleads begin to leave your mouth as your hips grind faster, your clit nudged his nose as his tongue is now inside your walls, fucking you with his tongue.

Your eyes widen, and you let out a silent scream when his teeth nip your swollen clit. You lay on the bed, panting as your pussy cums on his face. Your arousal makes a mess on his face which makes you even more slick when he pulls back and gets on top of you.

You looked into his eyes, his cold blue eyes that were nearly black now. He was panting, both of your breaths mixing into the air. With whatever senses you have left, you use your palm to clean up some of the mess on his face.

As soon as you finish up, he holds your hand. His mouth on your palm with broad strokes of his tongue he licks the remaining of your juices clean. “Can't let it go to waste, my bird,” he whispered to you as he leaned down. His body caging yours or were you caging him down with your legs around his waist? He pressed a kiss to your cheek. Sweet and gentle, and so unlike him but you don't dare question his affections. May it be sweet or savory, you accept it with your arms wide open.

“Want you,” you whispered to him. “You'll have me when I see fit,” he replied, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck before they reached the flesh of your breasts. One of his hands squeezed your breast and his thumb rubbed circles on your nipple. His lips paid attention to the underside of it, licking the skin around the round flesh before his teeth sank in making you gasp. He sucks harshly, his hold on your breast getting rougher as he forms the mark on your skin. When he's assured that a hickey will be formed, his lips pull back and he presses a kiss to the mark.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin before he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks just as harshly as before. You moan, “Yours, Snow!” Your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His fingers play and squeeze your other breast while he continues to suck your bud. Your cunt despite having a previous earthsharing orgasm begins to pulse with need. You whimper, “Corio, please!”

Coryo pulls away, his eyebrows etched in annoyance, as much as he likes to hear you beg, he would rather focus on his task of marking you up. He leans up and presses his lips to you. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers tangling themselves into his curls bringing him even closer to you. He breaks the kiss, “I'll teach you to be obedient later, my pet.”

You let out a whimper when he pressed a hard kiss against your lips. His hands travel down to your hips. “Get ready,” he whispered to you, “I meant my words.” I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name. Remembering his earlier words, you whine loudly, “Please!”

His hand grips your hip tightly as his other hand holds his hard cock and guides it to your entrance. Just to be a little tease, he swipes his mushroom tip all over your cunt, his cockhead bumping your swollen clit making you arch your back and your nails dig into his flesh harder, making him moan as well.

He finally pressed his tip into your slit, his cock gliding in smoothly because of how wet you were. He groans as his dick gets sucked into warmth. His head is between the space of your shoulder. He was panting, his hot breath hitting your skin as he pushed in inch by inch. Your hands are on his back, your legs around his waist as you encourage him to go deeper into you with your soft moans.

His teeth sink into your neck to stop a groan, as his cock reaches your deepest spot. While your nails drag themselves across his back to create red lines. Both of you finding ways to anchor yourself to reality, to not go insane with the pleasure you find in each other.

“Move,” you plead, “Please, Coryo, need you to fuck me. Need you!” Snow decided to have mercy on you both, his hips began to move shallowly, and he refused to completely pull back. He refused the concept of depriving his dick of your sweet, wet pussy. “Faster,” you beg, his deep thrust hits at your every spot, some you didn't even know existed. It fried at your senses, your mind going haywire, your body getting desperate for another release.

“No,” he barks near your ear, his mouth biting your earlobe before he begins to kiss your jaw and then to your collarbone. His lips suck purple and blue bruises on your skin while his hips grind into you. Making you go dizzy and insane with how his cockhead kept grazing your g-spot.

“Please, please,” you babble, “You're fucking me so good, Coryo! I can't take it, please! Fuck me harder, love!” His hips had stopped moving as he heard your words. His head leaned up to you, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “What did you say?”

You looked straight into his eyes, not hiding the love you had for him, letting it flow through your words and your body. “Love,” you whispered, your lips pressing a delicate kiss that could shatter everything you had built with Snow. “I love you,” you whispered. One of your hands moves to his cheek, caressing him. “You don't have to do anything in return, just know that I love you.” You smile at him, knowing it's more likely that he won't ever return your feelings.

You prepared yourself for a harsh rejection but instead, his hips begin to move again. Harder, faster than before, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips marking it. You won't be able to walk later but that didn't matter.

What mattered was how perfect Coriolanus had begun to fuck you. No, it wasn't a fuck. This was something more. Something changed with your confession, something changed and will remain changed for the rest of both of your lives.

One of his hands reached upward, his fingers snaking around your throat. He pressed it in, not enough to block your breathing but enough to make you lightheaded. Your pussy which was already tight, clenched around him further making him groan right against your ear.

“Lover indeed,” he whispered, his words that you nearly missed, your heart understood what he meant. You gasp, “Kiss me.” You knew that even without him saying those words, he could love you all the same.

Snow complies, his lips clashing with yours. His hips rutting into you as his hands guide your legs into the mating press position, making you cry out into the kiss as his cock reaches even deeper than before causing a small bump into your stomach that neither of you notices.

The kiss got open-mouthed, desperate with how his tongue tangled with yours. It was filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of love you both felt for each other. His thrusts got faster, and sloppier as he was close to his end. Your cunt pulsating around his length as you too were close to shattering again.

What it took for both of you to reach the end was him breaking the kiss to whisper, “I should kill you. I should kill you for making me a lovesick fool again.”

The words even when you know can mean your doom makes you cum like nothing else. Your lips cry out as your walls begin to milk his cock for what it's worth. He groans into your mouth, letting himself feel your fluttering cunt before he thrusts into you once, twice, and finds his release. His cock spilling into you, his cum painting your insides white, marking you.

He pulls out, his back covered with scratches, his curls clinging to his forehead and his lips swollen from the kisses. You looked just as much of a mess as he did, with marks all over your body.

He thinks to himself as he lies beside you. He wasn't going to kill you now. Not in ten years or fifty but your end would only be when he decides.

He loves you after all, in his twisted way.

tags : @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @justacaliforniandreamer

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uzurakis · 7 months ago

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hi again!! (ik I just sent in a request I just had another one LMFAOOO) im back bc I got another request/idea!! jjk men (..yuta n Megumi 🙏 n whoever else u want :3) who got into a nasty argument (could be from ur argument post but it doesn’t have to be connected to that post!!) and then gets really injured on a mission right after the argument! it’s up to you if reader + jjk men end up making up, or it could end on a angsty route of them anxiously waiting for reader to wake up while trying to think to ways to apologize with regret; doesn’t rlly matter!! do what you want 😛😛

HEY, WAKE UP . . PLEASE?

featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. yuuta okkotsu.

n. first, i apologize this one took a very long time because i wanted to carefully hit the right spots and nail the each character. second, i only make 3 characters this time ‘cause each one of them is long enough to read. third, i wanna make you guys suffer <3 enjoy !!

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

megumi’s fingers trembled as he reached out to touch your hand, the memory of his harsh words replaying in his mind. “why didn’t i see it coming?” he muttered to himself, voice hardly above a whisper. the guilt was suffocating, the feeling that he had failed you as a partner, both in life and on the field, gnawing at him relentlessly.

he hadn’t slept since you were brought in, eyes red and heavy, his emerald pupils weren’t evident anymore with the dark circles underneath a testament to his vigil. every beep of the monitors felt like a countdown, each passing second a reminder of how fragile everything was. he kept running through what he could have done differently, how he could have prevented this from happening.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking with emotion, repeating the words tremendously. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry—“

“i’m so sorry. i never meant for this to happen. i never wanted to hurt you.”

his mind was filled with images of your smile, your laughter, and the way your eyes would light up when you were happy. he wanted nothing more than to see you open your eyes, to hear your voice, to have the chance to make things right.

the silence in the room was oppressive, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the machines. megumi’s thoughts were a chaotic jumble of fear and determination. he knew he had to find a way to apologize, to show you that he cared more than he had ever managed to express. but how could he make up for the pain he had caused? how could he prove to you that he was truly sorry?

he squeezed your hand gently, as if the simple touch could convey all the words he struggled to find. “please wake up,” he pleaded softly. “i need to tell you how much you mean to me. i need to show you that i can do better. that i will do better. please, just wake up.”

as the hours dragged on, megumi’s resolve only strengthened. he would make things right, no matter what it took. the door to your room opened, but megumi didn’t look up. his focus was entirely on you, silently willing you to open your eyes. he wouldn’t leave your side until you did. he couldn’t. the weight of his regret was too heavy, his love for you too deep.

“please,” he whispered again, each syllable filled with desperation. “come back to me.”

GOJO SATORU

“you’re always so damn reckless!” gojo had shouted, his voice echoing in the small office.

“maybe if you weren’t so arrogant all the time, you’d understand why!” you had snapped back, feeling the sting of his words cut deep.

now, the same guy sat by your hospital bed, his usually confident demeanor shattered. his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, blood seeping from where his nails dug into his palms. the sight of you lying there, pale and unmoving, tore at his heart. he cursed himself repeatedly, the words tumbling out in a desperate, angry whisper.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” he muttered, voice breaking. “why the hell did this have to happen? why couldn’t i fucking save you?”

he stared at your face, willing you to wake up, to give him some sign that you were still there with him. the argument replayed in his mind, each harsh word a dagger in his chest. he wanted to take it all back, to tell you how much he loved you and needed you.

“shit,” he hissed, slamming his fist into the armrest of the chair. “i’m supposed to be the strongest, but what the hell does that mean if i can’t even protect you?”

a hollow aching threatened to eat away at his chest, a gnawing remorse. tears blurred his vision as he looked at you, voice a broken whisper. “wake up. i want to apologize. i want you to know how sorry i am.”

the room was silent except for the steady beep of the heart monitor. gojo’s thoughts were a chaotic swirl of guilt, also his helplessness. he had faced countless curses and enemies without flinching, but this, seeing you like this, was unbearable.

he cursed again, the words raw and filled with pain. “damn it, why didn’t i stop you? why didn’t i fucking do something?”

his mind raced, trying to think of ways to make it right, to fix what had been broken. but all he could do was wait and hope. he reached out, gently taking your hand in his, his grip trembling.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking. “i love you. please, just wake up. i don’t know what i’ll do if you don’t.”

YUUTA OKKOTSU

yuta, who was normally expressive, was pale and drawn as he sat beside your bed. his voice was crushed by the weight of his remorse, and he was unable to speak. he was completely broken by the sight of you there, so still and vulnerable, in ways he never imagined. his fingers barely touched yours as he extended a shaking hand, fearing that the slightest touch could break you.

memories of the argument replayed in his mind, each moment seared into his consciousness. your angry words echoed in his ears, mingling with his own harsh retorts. he remembered the flash of hurt in your eyes, the way your voice had cracked when you told him you were done talking. he had let you walk away, his anger blinding him to the danger you were about to face.

tears welled up in yuta’s eyes, but he couldn’t let them fall. he had to be strong for you, even though you couldn’t sense a thing. the guilt gnawed at him, a relentless beast that whispered of his failures. he had promised to protect you, to be there for you, and yet here you were, injured and unresponsive, because he had let his anger get the better of him.

“it’s all my fault,” he grumbled, voice barely audible in the sterile room. “i should have stopped you. i should have been there.”

he stared at your face, willing you to wake up, to open your eyes and tell him it was okay. but you remained still, your breathing steady but shallow. yuta’s mind was a storm of regret and self-recrimination. he blamed himself for everything, convinced that his failure to resolve things before you left had led to this. if only he had followed you, things might have been different.

“wake up, please,” he begged, voice breaking. “you can’t do this to me..”

he felt a sob rising in his throat, but he swallowed it down, determined not to break in front of you. he had to be strong, even if it felt like he was falling apart inside. the thought of losing you was unbearable, a gap that threatened to swallow him whole.

“why did i let you go?” he murmured, his fingers tightening around yours. “why didn’t i fight for us?”

the minutes stretched into hours, each one an eternity as yuta sat by your side, his heart heavy with guilt and fear. he couldn’t imagine a life without you, couldn’t bear the thought that he might have lost you because of his own stubbornness.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered again, voice choked with emotion. he stayed there, silent and unmoving, the weight of his regret a constant presence. all he could do was wait and hope, praying that you would wake up and give him the chance to apologize, to tell you how much you meant to him. until then, he would sit by your side, holding on to the hope that you would come back to him.

“i love you. please, just give me a chance to make things right.”

@uzurakis

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voxisdaddy · 9 months ago

Text

Love Me, Please

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairings: Alastor/Lucifer/Adam/Husk/Angel/Vox/Valentino/Tom Trench/Saint Peter

Type: Scenarios/Comfort

C/TW: Swearing, blood, reader written with fem parts in mind (bc this bout periods, duh)

In which you miss your boyfriend/cling to your boyfriend and are being emotional about it. Basically—period emotions.

This is more for me bc it’s that time of the month and I desperately want some comfort lol | also Angel’s I left up to either be platonic or romantic

Alastor

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He was at yet another unremarkable overlord meeting when he felt something pulling on him. Back at the hotel, you laid on your bed wrapped in a cocoon of sorts, eyes tiredly watching your shadow pulling on one of Alastor’s shadows-which he left to keep an eye on you. Alastor’s grin turned to one of amusement—oh how needy you are when it’s that time of the month for you. The meeting finally came to a close and instead of making his way back to the hotel with a lovely stroll, he disappears in his shadows. Not before bidding a friendly farewell with his dear friend, Rosie. He materializes in the center of your room with a shit eating grin as he twirls his microphone around.

“I was hardly apart from you for more than an hour, my dear.”

Lucifer

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lucifer had errands he couldn’t postpone today and so he made you promise to text him when you miss him and he’ll make his way right back in a jiffy! The bedroom door only closed behind him when he got a text from you. An ‘I miss you’ along with a sad face emoticon. He burst the door open, tears welling up in his eyes, as he crawled back into bed with you to hold you close. You honestly thought he was more emotional than you at the moment.

“My poor ducky! I’m sowwy!”

Adam

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Adam has been around for ages so I like to think he knows a bit about menstruation. On top of that, he has an army of baddies he likes spending time with-usually training but that's still time spent with them regardless. However he's definitely still rough around the edges since usually with his girls, he uses that to egg them on into being tougher fighters either physically or emotionally. If you're a person who's quick to be a grump or a crying mess then uhhh...just know he doesn't mean to be a dick all the time. He tries though, despite how annoying and tiresome it is. Especially since you make him feel oh so special with how you seem to demand his attention and his attention only. Right now you lay on his chest, looking on at the items set on the coffee table with a glint of amusement.

"Babe-you said pads with wings! I got that! I even made sure the chicken wings came with the good sauce."

Husk

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Husk is very vigilant so he's quickly able to come to the conclusion that you're on your period before even you realize it. It was just after he finished closing up the bar and returned to your room for a late nights rest when he smelt it. He might technically be an old man, but he's a respectful one and has been around for quite some time. He knows that small. Despite knowing you might be embarrassed to find out that he can smell it, he figured you'd be more grateful that he woke you up so you can deal with it before you wake up feeling all gross and annoyed in the morning. Plus it was worth it to almost immediately get a hug from you after being apart for a few extra hours than he liked.

"Come on. Don't wanna ruin your new pajama's now, do you baby doll?

Angel Dust

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This man was out on a much needed night out with his long time bestie, Cherri Bomb. You of course coming as his plus one that his bestie always welcomed like the supportive girly she is. He couldn't quite enjoy himself as much this time around though as he sat at in a corner booth with you hunched over your drink. You're hand gripping one of his hands as if you're afraid he's gonna leave. Despite how awkward he felt trying to comfort you, he did his best and allowed himself to be as sympathetic as much as he could.

"Toot's-if you wanna leave it's okay! You know I'll stick with ya! No need to make ya headache worse than it already is!"

Vox

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox still holds certain belief's and mindsets he had from his time in the 1950's. Part of that meaning him being 'grossed out' by your period and beliefs in woman faking or over exaggerating their monthly disturbances. He learned to keep his opinions to himself though, due to previous encounters with Velvette, and found it easier to just well, cater to your needs. They were easy enough for the most part. Food and beverage cravings? He's got ya covered. Cramps and aches? You're in luck because this man is basically one large heating pad. Which quickly became a downside for him because then you wanted him all the time. Didn't matter if he was working or not. He tried to put his foot down once but it only made you emotional so uhhh-

"Honey, I'll only be gone for one hour. As soon as the meeting ends, I'll lay my head on your stomach, okay?"

Valentino

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino can only smirk to himself when he finds out it's now your time of the month. Which isn't hard to figure out since he woke up to you latched onto him like a koala this morning. A puff of red smoke invades your senses as a pair of arms wrap around your shoulders, a third hand coming to play with the top of your head. Valentino, spending years working with woman and people who endure this bloody cycle, knows a few...remedy's. He has his favourite solutions, obviously. Only if you're down. The last time he tried being more...persuasive with his advances to you during these times, it didn't go well-to put it lightly.

"Mi cariño~A good fucking helps with this time of the month, you kno-" ... "Or we could share some snacks. Kitty!"

Tom Trench

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ For this man I pray you are not a bitch on your period. Poor guy already has to deal with his co-star Katie Killjoy everyday. Whatever you deal with on your period though, just know your man is there and keeps your needy ass close. Such as right now, as you sit in an oversized fuzzy hoodie on Tom's couch, watching him and Katie host the latest news live. You glance down at your phone with Tom's messages open. You want to text him but you knew it wouldn't reach him anyways-they had to keep their devices on silent while they hosted. As soon as they were finished with their shift of the day however, Tom rushed to his dressing room to find you staring at the door with open arms.

"The interns told me you were waiting for me."

Saint Peter

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ This man would never admit it out loud, and if he did he would word it very carefully, but he loves it when its your time of the month. I mean he feels bad for you obviously; dealing with an inconvenience once a month even in your afterlife does not sound like any sort of blessing, but he's clingy and affectionate himself. And you clinging to him just as much? Oh it's like he's died and went to Heaven-again! Currently he lays on the couch with you in his arms, you both engulfing each other in a snuggly cuddle. He periodically checks the time-as much as he loves this he's still got a job to do. He voices this but quickly finds himself soothing you.

"I'm only going to work, sweetheart! P-please don't cry!"

This was supposed to be reader missing them but some of them became not exactly that and I’m sorry lol

I’ve had this in my drafts for a month, felt about right to finally post it. I’m also ashamed to admit, it took me way too long trynna figure out what to write for Tom’s dialogue. I love him but if I don’t know him as well as I thought 😭

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headlinerkwan · 5 months ago

Text

something new - j.ww

pairing: jeon wonwoo x gn!reader

genre: university!au, e2l, academic rivals to lovers, featuring svt as your friend group, angst, fluff, suggestive - MDNI!!

summary: you and wonwoo have been rivals since the first day you met, everything he did irritated you to no end, and yet, you couldn't escape him and, at a certain point, maybe you didn't want to.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, no one knows how to communicate lol, kissing, suggestive

wc: 5.7k

a/n: wonwoo academic rival bc i love him being all nerdy n shit. i really enjoyed writing this so let me know what you think + if you have any requests for some new fics!! ฅ ฅ

You stare down at your paper, illegible and scattered with doodles and a sharp exhale falls from your lips. Tapping your pen against the table, you wonder how the hell you’re going to pass this surprise exam - a surprise for you at least, apparently telling you must have slipped everyone else’s mind. Someone taps your shoulder lightly, bringing you out of your spiral. You turn to meet the eyes of the stranger sat beside you, his jet black hair is pushed roughly out of his face, allowing you to see his soft dark eyes peer down at you.

You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, clueless as to why he would be trying to get your attention in the middle of an exam. He mouths the word ‘pen’ in response, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his eyes looking at you with pure desperation. Looking at his desk, you notice the pen next to his hand is broken. You turn away briefly and watch as he lets out a breath of relief and adorns a grateful smile once you appear with a spare pen for him to use.

It seems like the bell rings almost immediately once you return your focus to your exam paper - shit. Now you’re definitely not passing. The bell sounds vaguely familiar as it continues to ricochet through you, you rack your brain trying to remember where you’ve heard the sound before… oh, it’s your alarm clock. Oh! It’s your alarm clock!

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Your eyes snap open as you sit up in bed to turn off the irritating tune that your clock had been emitting for god knows how long. It was the first day of the semester, of course you had woken up twenty minutes behind schedule after a cliche ‘first-day-of-school’ dream, what else could you expect?

Arriving at your first class of the day, you find your friend Seungkwan sat strategically in the corner of the semester hall - just far away enough to avoid the risk of being called upon by the professor. You take a seat next to Seungkwan and listen as he begins to rant about his commute. You and Seungkwan have been friends since Freshman year after getting paired up for a group project. Originally, you were fearful that you wouldn’t get along, on the surface you were like chalk and cheese, but you find now that Seungkwan balances you out just right. His bold extrovertism has pushed you to be a little less timid, to actually live and, you like to think that you’ve mellowed him about a bit too. You wouldn’t mind listening to Seungkwan talk and joke around all day, that’s when he’s happiest so, naturally, you are too.

Your conversation with Seungkwan comes to stop as both of your attention gets drawn to a loud racket growing a few rows behind you. You follow the noise to find loveable class clowns Soonyoung, Mingyu, and Seokmin.

“Ah, it's just Soonyoung, so anyways…” Seungkwan turns back to his laptop and continues expressing his somewhat irrational love of drive-thrus . You, however, are still watching your classmates, unable to tear your eyes away from one of them, his dark slightly nerdy features captivating you.

“Kwan,” you murmur, “Who’s the guy next to Seokmin?”

Seungkwan hums, satisfied, “I was waiting for you to say something, always so nosy.”

You huff gently, knowing well enough that there’s no point in arguing with him, “So?””

“Jeon Wonwoo. Just transferred for his last year I guess.”

“Huh weird, I could've sworn I’ve seen him before.”

Your friend scoffs jokingly, “In your dreams bro.”

You sigh again, resting your head on the desk sulkily. ‘In your dreams’, Seungkwan’s words echo. Wait… Is he… your head whips around to glance at the mysterious man again. No fucking way… Jeon Wonwoo is literally the guy from your dreams.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

If you had known back then how much you would grow to dislike Wonwoo, you never would have commented on his good looks that first day but, you guess you can’t really blame yourself for not knowing how much of a dick he was. Since you had met, you had tried, maybe too hard, to figure out what you had done to make him treat you the way that he did. Over the weeks you have watched him form bonds with everyone in your class - especially your friends, and you saw how his smile fell and laughter stopped as soon as you made your presence known. It was if you had physically attacked him, the way that his eyes immediately dropped to the floor once you came into view. The thing that annoyed you the most about Jeon Wonwoo though, more than the unexplained icing out, was his brain.

You don’t like to brag but you pride yourself on your intelligence, especially in academia. You had worked hard to reach the place you were in now, throwing away your teenage years in favor of ensuring a happy and successful future for yourself. Because of this, you work hard to make sure you’re at the top of the list whenever your exam results are released - improving upon yourself and being the best of the best, that’s what you strive for. So of course, it came as an infuriating shock when Wonwoo knocked you out of the top spot, that smug look on his face and the glimmer in his eyes as he walked past you that day was something you couldn’t get out of your head. No matter how hard you tried, day and night, the only thing on your mind was Wonwoo and how to beat him.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

“Ok, what can you tell me about Wonwoo?” you are sitting in your campus cafe, your best friend Seungkwan sits across from you as you mindlessly stir your coffee.

“Why do you always assume I have information on everyone?”

“Because you always do, my favorite gossip.” you reply, buttering him up in hope he’ll give you something, anything.

“What’s your business with him anyways? Oh…” he gasps “you have a little campus crush don’t you? That’s why you’re so off around him.”

“Don’t go spreading false information, Boo Seungkwan, he’s the one who gets cold and quiet when I’m around. Besides, no sleeping with the enemy.”

“He’s the enemy now? Hot.”

You scoff gently at his comment, rolling your eyes “Just tell me what you know”, you say laughing.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

As time goes on, nothing much changes between you and Wonwoo. He becomes a fixture within your friendship group with the boys taking him under their wing and as he begins to pop up in more areas of your life, you learn more about him. You learn about his love for video games and cats, you learn he’s a great listener but can speak for the country when he’s passionate about something. You learn he’s funny and even smarter than you thought. It’s annoying that you could imagine actually being friends with him if he was just nice, you admit you might be able to understand the crowd of girls that follow him around aimlessly if he wasn’t such an asshole. Because, despite him joining your friendship group and you - unwillingly - spending more time around him, he still acted so coldly towards you, no matter how nice you were to him, he never faltered.

“Split into groups of six, no more, no less and create a presentation applying your chosen theorem to the 21st century.” your professor orders. Immediately the students around you begin to migrate around the room, collecting friends for the group project. You turn to your left to find that Seungkwan is already clambering over the seats behind you to reach Seokmin, Mingyu, Soonyoung and Wonwoo - all four of them cheering on his show of athleticism.

“Quickly guys! Come on!” the professor calls out from the front of the class. You look around to realise that you’ve waited a bit too long to choose a group for yourself. That’s when you hear your name being called and turn to find Mingyu reaching his hand out to you with that cheesy grin you just couldn’t say no to.

“We need the class nerd on our team, c’mon!” Soonyoung calls out to you from above.

“We already have Wonwoo though?” Seungkwan remarks with a mischievous smirk. You quickly shoot him a stern, irritated look as his smile is broken by Seokmin elbowing him in the ribs for a reason you can’t quite figure out.

A few days later, you and your friends (and Wonwoo) decide to meet at the library to brainstorm for your project. You arrive first with Seokmin and Mingyu and find a table just big enough for the six of you. Soonyoung trails along not long after and the four of you play some quiet games whilst waiting for Seungkwan and Wonwoo to arrive. You note that one of the two empty seats is positioned directly across for you whilst the other is out of view. The solution is clear, Seungkwan will sit across from you, at least then you’ll be able to focus on the assignment.

Once the pair arrive, you attempt to signal to Kwan, strong eye contact asking him to take the chair opposite you.

“Won, which seat do you want?” He asks the other boy, and you can’t hold back the sigh that escapes as your plan crumbles before you

“I’ll take this one, the lighting’s better.” Wonwoo replies, making brief eye contact with you before pulling out the chair with a shy smirk on his face.

…what was that about? And when did he get so cocky?

Soonyoung clears his throat, breaking the awkward silence that suddenly fell over the group and you thank God that he’s here to take the attention off of your exchange with Wonwoo and prompt you to actually start working on the project.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Soon enough, you find yourself in a quiet bar across town on a Thursday night. Following your friends’ advice you decide to accept your coworker’s invitation to grab drinks. You tell yourself why not? He’s nice enough, attractive and funny, sometimes anyways. Plus you haven’t got much else going on in the love department - no harm, no foul.

After half an hour or so of pleasant small talk, you leave the booth and head towards the bar to order another drink. As you trudge across the sticky floor you are stopped in your tracks as a man steps in front of you, blocking you from reaching your destination.

“Excuse me,” you begin, attempting to manoeuvre around him.

“You shouldn’t be with him.” the man says.

“Excuse me?” you repeat, this time in disbelief.

“You heard me.” he says, quieter this time. You lift your head to get a proper look at the stranger’s face.

“Of course you’re here.” you scoff. You push past him, shaking your head as you reach the bar. He follows, not giving up.

“You don’t suit each other.”

You laugh, God, he’s so infuriating, who does he think he is?

“Oh please, Wonwoo, like you know the slightest thing about me.”

“Actually I-”

Just then your ‘date’ appears, “Is everything ok?” He asks with a slightly concerned look.

“Yeah! Just a… classmate.” A false happiness lines your voice.

“Come on, let's head back to the table.” you say, turning your back on Wonwoo who watches on with a solemn expression.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Not long after that, you find yourself at the library with your friends almost every day, grinding to get your project completed. You and Wonwoo haven’t spoken about the night at the bar, not that he speaks to you usually anyways. Instead though, you begin to catch him looking at you more and more often, his gaze burning into you, making you heat up and, most importantly distracting you from your work.

“What’s going on with you and Wonwoo then?” Seungkwan asks one day whilst you do a snack run for the rest of the group.

“What?” you reply, stopping where you are, astonished.

“Just saying, he can’t keep his eyes off of you.”

“He’s trying to sabotage me or something.”

“...Why would he do that? Y’know we’re graded as a group right?” He says, baffled.

“Whatever.” you reply, turning into the next aisle, fed up of even thinking about Wonwoo, never mind talking about the man.

Returning to your friends, they circle you like vultures, picking out they’re snacks. It’s a chaotic free for all and you’re left with a candy bar and some chips. Wonwoo stands patiently whilst the others rob you blind so, once the others return to their seats you approach him quietly, avoiding eye contact and place the chips in front of him. He mutters a small “thank you” and smiles gratefully, watching again as you return to your work. Now he’s just being weird, you think to yourself. You can’t help but be curious about what he’s plotting.

At the end of the study session, the boys decide to head to the bar to reward themselves.

“Y/N, you coming?” Mingyu asks.

“I’m good, thanks though!” you reply with a soft smile, finding a quiet night watching Netflix to be a bit more appealing today.

Your friends leave before you, saying goodbye whilst you pack up your stuff. As you shove your laptop into your bag, you can feel someone’s eyes on you and your face begins to heat up at your suspicion.

“Wonwoo! Hurry up!” you hear Soonyoung whine.

“Right, sorry.”

You look up just quick enough to catch him turning away from you and running to meet with the rest of the group.

Huh, weird.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

That weekend, your phone buzzes with a string of texts from Mingyu.

Mingyu: Wanna come over and play video games?

Mingyu: (Say yes)

Mingyu: Pleaseee, I’m so bored :)

You’ve worked fucking hard recently and couldn’t think of a better way to end the week than by playing nostalgic video games with one of your closest friends

Y/N: Don't even WORRY, I’m omw

You respond quickly, pulling a bleach-stained hoodie on and heading for the door.

You’re sat on the floor next to Mingyu in front of his TV. The room is dead silent, spare some trash talk from the both of you as you channel all of your focus on Mario Kart. As a result, neither of you notice Wonwoo coming in to watch your fierce competition.

You swear you see your life flash before your eyes when he, watching the screen intently, mumbles “Be careful. Blue shell coming your way.”

His sudden words do nothing but scare the living shit out of you and make you crash into a wall.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, heart beating rapidly after his jumpscare, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He looks at you blankly, taken aback by your overreaction, “Oh…uh… I live here.”

You turn to Mingyu who confirms with his lips pressed together in an awkward smile.

“Oh. Sorry. You just scared me a bit, my bad.”

He chuckles quietly in response before walking over to the kitchen and leaving the two of you to finish your race (which you still win, despite Wonwoo’s meddling.) A handful of races later, Mingyu’s phone buzzes, ushering him to go and collect the takeout you had ordered. Standing up, he grabs his jacket and keys but doesn’t dare leave before messing with you more than he already has.

“Wonwoo?” He calls with a mischievous grin, “Come play instead of me whilst I go get the food!”

Wonwoo hums a response as he moves to sit down next to you whilst you shoot death glares at your friend, who simply mouths ‘be nice’ before slamming the door behind him.

He picks up Mingyu’s controller and hovers over ‘Wario’s Gold Mine’.

“What are you doing?”

He looks at you, confused “Uh… choosing the best map?”

You laugh, “No no, my poor Wonwoo. This is the best map.” You take the remote from him and select ‘Koopa Cape’.

“Ooh, you’re so wrong.” he replies playfully.

“I’m never wrong.”

“That’s true.”

You catch yourself smiling as the race starts. Maybe you are wrong, maybe he’s not so bad.

“Oh my god, hit me with a shell again, I swear to god Jeon Wonwoo.” you exclaim as he surpasses you for the fourth time. He laughs, nudging you gently.

“I didn’t know you were such a sore loser.”

You look at him, forgetting about the game, “You don't know anything about me.” you say, under your breath. He turns to you, concerned.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

Turning back to the screen, you find that Wonwoo has stolen first place from you - again.

“Fuck.” you mutter, refocusing on the race, watching as a proud smile creeps onto Wonwoo’s face.

“Wow, Y/N actually lost for once!” Mingyu declares as he returns with the food, “I guess we finally found your match.”

“Shut up.” you bark back, rolling your eyes and leaning back against the couch. Wonwoo mutters a ‘good game’ before standing up with a smirk and leaving the room. You scoff at his slight obnoxiousness whilst Mingyu sits down beside you and begins unpacking the food.

“Are you gonna stop sulking and go get some plates?”

“Ugh fineee” you reply jokingly before getting up.

You’re completely lost in the kitchen, opening every cupboard in sight hoping to find some plates and cutlery.

“You good?” a voice calls from behind you. You look up to find Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, slightly baffled by your snooping.

“Uh…plates?”

“Ah,” he says walking towards you, you step back until you’re caught by the kitchen counter. “Just up here.” he continues, reaching behind you to grab the plates.

He’s so close that, for the first time, you can smell his woody cologne strongly. Your heart speeds up as he places the plates down on the counter behind you, his hands resting on either side, trapping you.

You look up at him, breathless, as he scans your face. You’re silent, drinking him in, your hands fiddling with the hem of your hoodie. He lifts his hand, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers against your lips.

You can only bring yourself to nod in complete disbelief at the sudden shift between the two of you, the magnetism drawing you together. He moves in closer to you, so close you can feel his eyelashes as they flutter against your skin and his breathing grows slightly heavier.

“Y/N, did you find them?” Mingyu calls from the other room. You’ve never moved away from a person so fast, separating yourself from Wonwoo immediately. You clear your throat, maintaining eye contact with Wonwoo, still flustered.

“Yep sorry! Just grabbing a drink.” Thinking fast, Wonwoo hands you a can of coke.

“Can you grab me one too?” Mingyu shouts.

You both laugh quietly as he hands you another. You nod and smile, leaving him in the kitchen and heading back to your food.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

It’s a week before you see him again, your group's last meeting before the final presentation, a chance for you to go over the final details. The meeting is generally uneventful, everyone finally focused on the task at hand.

“I think if we switch the parts about culture and equity then it would flow better.” Wonwoo suggests.

“Hmm, I agree” you reply nonchalantly because, on this rare occasion, you actually do.

“What the fuck was that?” Seungkwan whispers to you.

“What?”

“You never agree with him.”

“He made a good point.” you shrug, brushing off your friend’s interrogation. Looking up you catch Wonwoo smiling at you, giggling under his breath like a teenager. You have to stifle the smile that begins creeping onto your face as you watch him.

“And that is why we believe that absurdism is an essential mindset to have in order to thrive in the modern day.” Seokmin argues, concluding your group project, finally. The six of you share reassuring nods and smiles, you’ve done your best and you’re happy with it, the rest is out of your hands.

As you exit the assessment room, Soonyoung pipes up, “Drinks, drinks, drinks, drinks, drinks?” He chants pointing at each of you as he does, the group mumbles a variety of agreements.

“Y/N?” Mingyu asks.

“Come on, it’ll be fun, try something new.” Seungkwan whispers.

You look at your friends smiling eagerly as they wait for your response, with an exhale and a nod, you give in, “drinks.”

At the bar, you crowd a small table, each with a drink in hand, talking and laughing about whatever comes to mind. You play games, sharing embarrassing childhood stories and weird facts you never would’ve learnt anywhere else. You are having fun, smiling, peaceful but, something’s off. You can feel it. He’s been quiet all night, barely even looked at you. It was annoying. It was annoying that it annoyed you, a few weeks ago this would have been normal behavior but now, it was different, it upset you, made you feel like you’d done something wrong, made you feel… unwanted.

Being truthful, you weren’t really feeling it tonight. If you had it your way you’d be on your couch right now watching a film. You weren’t gonna go, not until you saw his cheesy grin amongst your friends’, so sweet you could melt. He was the reason you went out tonight. Him, and Seungkwan’s words, you should try something new. You had never felt so overwhelmed by your own feelings, one minute you felt nothing short of hatred for Wonwoo and the next… your heart is fluttering every time your eyes meet.

During your daze, Wonwoo gets up to buy another round for the group, the sound of his chair moving snaps your focus back to the table but he’s already disappeared. You excuse yourself to the restroom, taking the chance to talk to Wonwoo whilst everyone else is distracted. Standing beside him, his eyes are fixed on his phone, reading some kind of article.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, nervous for his answer - you’re not sure what you’ll do either way. He looks up at you, soft dark eyes taking you in. He stands with an unreadable expression for what feels like forever before he finally opens his mouth to reply and then-

“Wonwoo! Come here quickly, settle this bet for us!” Sometimes, you really hate Soonyoung.

He shoots you an apologetic look and then, he’s gone, just like that. All the courage you had built up, wasted on an unanswered question. Fuck this. You grab your jacket, shooting Seungkwan a ‘don’t worry I’ll text you later’ look and head for the door. You’re exhausted, tired of it all, you just want to be in your own bed.

As you walk down the quiet streets, you hear another pair of footsteps catching up to you.

“Are you okay?”

You look at him. You’re irritable and know that you’re probably not going to say the right thing but what the hell.

“So you’re allowed to ask but I’m not?”

“No, that’s not- I… I’m sorry, I never know how to act around you, I never know what to say, I’m always doing the wrong thing but I-”

“Wonwoo.” you interject, “I can’t do this right now. Just… just go back to the bar.”

He doesn't respond, a silent understanding. He doesn’t leave either. He walks alongside you the whole way home, giving you quiet to think, offering you a comforting smile whenever your eyes meet. It breaks your heart just as much as it warms it, that he, despite your outburst, stays by your side when you need someone.

Even if you try to push him away, somehow he knows, he knows that you want him there.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

With the group project over, you don’t see him as often as before, hardly ever when you’re alone. You decide to put him out of your mind for a while, to focus on work and the rest of your assignments. Wonwoo, though, seems to have a habit of sabotaging your plans.

It started off with simpler things, turning up at your work just to place a complicated order, smirking as he watches you struggle with it. Then on exam week, a bag of your favorite snacks appears at your door. On a random Wednesday, he orders a pizza to your apartment. On your birthday, a small cake. And, there’s not a week that goes by where he fails to visit the cafe, you’ve grown to look forward to his bizarre orders and playful teasing.

Once the professor announces the end of the lecture, you grab your laptop and walk towards the door where you’re met with a familiar face.

“Ah, the coffee fairy, what can I do for you today?” you greet him, playfully.

“Can we talk? I’ll walk you home.” he asks, his voice laced with anxiety.

“Okay…” you nod, curious as to why he’s acting this way.

Walking through campus, he clears his throat, “So…” he trails off.

“So?”

“So I don’t really know how to say this. I mean, maybe you already know but I mean… I’m sorry, I’m sorry if I upset you, or hurt you, or made you angry. If you hate me, that’s okay I just-”

“I don’t hate you Wonwoo. Not anymore, anyways.”

He chuckles softly, “Well, I just want you to know that I don’t plan on giving up I… I think this is it for me,”

“It?”

“You. I think you’re it for me. I think it was over for me the moment I saw you.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, “And I’m sorry about everything. Around you, I just, I forget how to act, I can’t think. It’s all just… you.”

As he speaks, your face begins to heat up under his gaze, a smile appearing on your face as you take his hand in yours hesitantly, squeezing it gently. Suddenly, he stops speaking, pausing to think.

“Wait… what do you mean you don’t hate me anymore?” You can only laugh at his question as he pulls you closer to him.

The walk back to your apartment is nice, peaceful even, like this is where you’re meant to be. You turn towards him to say goodbye and thank him for walking so far out of his way. He can’t hide his shyness as he says goodbye, stammering slightly with rosy cheeks. You look at him, hoping for more, but his eyes are fixed to the floor as he blushes. You laugh quietly, finding him incredibly endearing before turning away to enter your apartment.

Suddenly, you feel his hand reach for your arm, “wait.” he says, spinning you back to him.

The action happens so quickly, you’re basically pressed up against him, one of your hands finding his bicep to balance yourself. You look up at him, it’s clear that he’s still nervous but he’s doing his best to play it cool, his hand rests on your lower back as he pulls you even closer. The way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only thing he’s ever known, sends the color to your cheeks and you can feel your heart beating faster by the second.

His other hand finds your jaw as he leans his face closer to yours, his breath tickling your lips. His soft, puppy dog eyes search yours for consent, and just like in Mingyu’s kitchen, you can muster up nothing but a nod, your breathing getting shallower with anticipation, hunger.

His lips delicately brush yours, cautious and timid. You kiss him back warmly, he tastes like peppermint and cola, both new and familiar at the same time. He leans into you more, growing more confident as you part your lips, letting him explore you further. You fall into a perfect rhythm with butterflies fluttering throughout you and your grip on the other becoming firmer.

Remembering that you need to breathe, you break away from each other slowly. He rests his forehead against yours, sharing your breathless giggles and smiles of relief.

“Jeon Wonwoo.” you whisper, still in a daze.

“Hmm?” he hums happily.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t hate you anymore.”

“Only pretty sure?” he jokes, feigning upset.

“100% sure.” you correct yourself with a happy grin.

“Good.” he says, pecking you softly and then pressing another kiss against your cheek. “I almost went insane waiting for you to realize.”

“Realize what?”

He pulls you into a warm, strong hug, resting his head on your shoulder before whispering “That it was always you and me.”

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

“What’s going on with Wonwoo?” Seungkwan asks on your way to class two days later.

“What do you mean?”

“Something’s different… he’s brighter.”

“Why would I know anything about it, none of my business” you state, biting your lip to hide your knowing smile.

“Oh come on, don’t act like you haven’t noticed!”

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bro, he didn’t stop smiling the entire time he was there, it was weird. He even spoke differently, lighter.”

You hum a manufactured surprised response as your friend continues.

“Maybe he met someone, he always talks about that person he’s liked since he moved here, maybe he finally made a move - i hope so I don’t know how much more of his schoolboy pining I can take.”

Your gaze is glued to the floor as you listen, knowing that you were the reason for all his changes and that he was the reason for all of yours. That he made the world seem new, brighter, happier.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

“Are you okay? We haven’t talked in a few days.” Wonwoo says over the phone.

“I’m sorry, it’s just my thesis, I feel like I’m never gonna leave this apartment again.”

“That’s okay! I get it,” he reassures you, “talk to me about it.”

He listens intently as you babble about your thesis, humming along, asking questions and offering advice. Whilst you explain the block that you’re facing currently, there’s a knock at the door. Getting up from your laptop to answer it, you continue, “And now, I’m not sure where to go next.”

“With me.”

“Huh?”

Opening the door, he’s stood in front of you. His dark hair falling perfectly, as he runs his fingers through it, still holding his phone to his ear with a sweet smile and pride in his eyes.

Hanging up the phone, he clarifies, “take a break, let’s go for dinner.”

And how could you deny such a pretty face?

Walking the streets, he speaks passionately as he shows you his favorite spots around the city and you find yourself just happy to be here with him, to witness his excitement with a cheesy grin that you reserve for only a few people in your life.

“You’re quite the sweet talker, Jeon Wonwoo.” you say, giggling.

“Of course,” he responds proudly, “How else would I get to have you by my side?” With that he pulls you into a hug, his strong arms wrapping around you, swaying playfully from side-to-side and holding you as if you’re all he needs with him right now.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

The elevator dings as the two of you stumble inside, your arms resting on his shoulders. Looking at him with adoration as he turns you gently, reaching his hand out to clumsily press the elevator buttons behind you. You giggle between kisses as you find your balance, clinging onto each other. You hardly notice when the elevator rings again outside your apartment, too busy with your hands tangled in his hair and his palms running across your sides in painstaking seduction.

Then he’s guiding you out of the elevator, hands still firm on your hips and not daring to break away from you for even a second. He slips his hand into yours, taking your keys and mindlessly fumbles to unlock the door.

It takes mere seconds once the door opens for him to slam it shut and have you trapped against the wall, he moves against you sloppily, licking into you with pure hunger and adoration, a tsunami of lust as his groans echo throughout your body.

“Fuck. If you’d just spoken to me on that first day, I would’ve made you mine then and there.” he whispers against your skin, trailing electric kisses down your jaw towards your collarbone.

You laugh in shock, lifting his lips back up towards yours, his cold hands sneaking underneath your shirt as you kiss him back feverishly. “Me? No, you were the one who ignored me.”

“Hmm” he responds breathlessly, turning you around and leading you to your bedroom. Drawn together like magnets, you both stumble across the room, hands and lips battling for the next sweet taste, the next wanting touch.

“Look how far…” his lips find yours again, “just a bit…” and again, “of communication can go” you finally manage to moan out.

“Are you gonna stop talking and be mine now or…?” he whines as you drag against his lips.

You giggle softly as he lifts your arms to rest around his shoulders, pulling you in by the waist before his soft mouth is reunited with yours.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

You could never have imagined that you would come to find a safe space in Wonwoo. That you would eventually know him better than yourself. That the man you loathed, competed against, fought, would be yours. The man whose presence bothered you would soon be the one to hold your hand through good news and bad. That his happiness was your happiness, his sadness, his pride, his love.

You never could have imagined that he would be the one waking you up on Sunday mornings with sweet kisses on your collarbone. That, at night you would be drawing idle patterns on his chest. That even after waking up from your dreams, he’d still be there holding you. That his touch was the only thing you craved, his kisses your favorite greeting, his voice your favorite song. His gaze and gooey brown eyes which used to irritate you to no end, would soon become your lighthouse in the storm. You never could have imagined that you would love Jeon Wonwoo.

taglist: @peachytokki @aidanjoon @mykpopficblog @cheeseburgerjuseyo

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tender-rosiey · 6 months ago

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to be honest, idk how you did it but you truly got me stoked over heian era husband! sukuna. i hate the man with most passion (bcs of what he did in the manga), but i couldn't help but giggling, crying, kicking my feet with butterflies in my stomach every time i read your husband!sukuna stories. your writings are *chef's kiss*, i read all of those more than twice already.

idk if you're currently open for request or not, but i want to ask, are you comfortable writing angst/hurt no comfort stuffs? bcs my mind keeps imagining what and how the husbands (gojo, geto, sukuna, nanami) react to their wife (y/n) got klled right in front of their eyes? perhaps bcs of their enemies or something, the enemies know you are their weakness (imagining sukuna, the king of curses, who's feared by most, or satoru who's known as the strongest — turns out have a weakness that he himself perhaps is not aware of is so mindblowing(?)) anyway, you don't have to write it if you're unable to, no worries and no pressure!!

"YOU— WHO I HAVE LOVED TILL LOVE BURNED"

— when you die in front of gojo, geto, nanami, and sukuna

a/n: hehe i am so glad that you like my heinaera!sukuna MWUAH 💕 we gotta ignore what he is doing in the manga 🧍‍♀️ also sorry in advance y’all, but I lowkey had a blast writing this; hope you like this anon <333

GOJO SATORU:

satoru stood outside the operations room, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.

he clutches his hands tightly, and his eyes are trained on the door, fixated on your cursed energy that he can feel through the door.

you were going into labor, after long 9 months of waiting.

the two of you were going to finally meet your baby girl. the same girl that the two of you would talk to at night, whispering and giggling amongst yourselves.

he knew that the pregnancy was hard on you, and that’s part of the reason why he is relieved that this day has come.

the moments are long agonizing, and what kills him on the inside are your screams of pain as you try to push out your daughter.

he wanted, so desperately, to be with you in the room, but the doctor decided against it; they thought that it would be better to free the room as they worried that there might be a risk in the labor.

that worried him, but he had no choice but to abide by what they said. finally, the sun smiles upon him, and he hears the cry of his daughter.

he stands up, grin overtaking his face, and eagerly awaiting being let in.

he waits.

and he waits, but nothing happens, and he stops the first nurse that goes out the room, “what is happening? is my wife okay?”

the nurse splutters and nods, before dashing to another room. he doesn’t believe her for one second, and so, he tries looking into the room through the windows on the door.

he can’t see anything, but he can still feel your cursed energy. that’s the only thing that calms him down.

but, he can’t find it in him to sit back on the chair. he leans on the wall beside the door, and his nails dig into his knuckles, almost making them bleed.

he doesn’t snap out of it, until the doctor walks out, lowering his mask, “mister gojo—”

he walks past the doctor and heads inside.

“y/n!” he calls out, but he is met with the sight of the nurses covering your figure with a white cloth. his eyes widen, and he grips the wrist of one of them, “what are you doing? she is not dead.”

the nurse’s brows furrow, and her expression turns into of one of pity. he snaps his head towards you then at her, “she is not dead. I can feel it.”

he can still feel your cursed energy, so they must be wrong.

he looks down at you and cups your face gently. he moves your face to his direction, and he whispers, “pretty girl, you did so well, but you gotta wake up now.”

your face is limp in his hand, and his eyes grow frantic, “y/n?” he urges, “please say anything, yell or scold me even.”

he rubs his thumb across your cheek as he chuckles nervously, “love, I can feel your cursed energy. the prank you’re playing is a bit too much, no?”

“mister gojo,” one of the nurses calls out, “I think it’s from her.”

he looks up, and he sees your daughter in the nurse’s arms. she is wailing loudly, and—the nurse is right—she is emitting your cursed energy or remnants of it, he realizes now.

“mister gojo, you need to have skin-to-skin contact with your daughter,” she speaks softly, gently handing the little girl to him.

he takes her, wordlessly, and he mindlessly opens his chest to hug his daughter to it.

the nurses exit the room, and satoru is left to stare at you.

he sits on the bed, one arm holding your daughter and the other hand holding your face. he speaks up lowly with a small and quivering smile, “wifey, come on, wake up. our daughter is here.”

said girl lets out a small huff, and satoru finds himself biting his lip as he lays his forehead on your own.

“come on, y/n,” he begs, “she even looks exactly like you,” he pulls you closer, “you cant do this to me—please, not you too.”

GETO SUGURU:

the businessman sighs, “I won’t pay more than what I offered. geto. my words are final.”

“and who are you to be making orders? geto asks, resting his elbows on the desk, “I could kill you with the flick of a finger, so either you give me the two million yen—I know you can provide—monthly, or you can say goodbye to this life and empire you built.”

the man taps his palm and sighs, “I assume that we won’t be reaching the outcome I want?”

geto tilts his head with a smile, “come on, you still have the power of choice.”

the man stares at geto for a second before speaking up, “your wife is a lovely woman,” he grins, “too bad she has to depart so early.”

at the moment, for the first time since that incident, geto feels his heart drop to his stomach.

he jolts up, grabbing the man by the collar and slamming him into the nearest wall, “what nonsense are you spouting?”

geto’s grip on the man’s throat quickly tightens.

the man is barely able to choke out his reply, “y—your dear sweetheart has been poisoned, since she went to your ‘usual’ café spot, and my men were there,” he grins manically, “better go and try to get your goodbyes, while you’re at it.”

your husband throws him on the floor and releases his most brutal curses to eat him. the man’s screams are ignored, as geto hurriedly runs to the café.

his heart beats violently against his chest. how did his curses not notice anything? how could he let you be in danger?

he slams the door open and yells out, “y/n?! y/n, do you hear me?!”

the café is empty, and the only person present there is you. the others having long fled.

you look so pained, letting out labored breaths and furrowing your eyebrows in discomfort. he kneels beside you and gathers you in his arms. he rises to his feet, but halts when you let out a pained shriek.

“I am sorry, honey, I know, just hold on,” he comforts. you shake your head and bury your face into his chest. he tightens his embrace on you and quickly starts running out.

“suguru, it hurts—moving hurts,” you cry, and it makes him kiss the top of your head firmly while nodding, trying to comfort both himself and you.

he thanks the heavens that he arrives at the estate, and he gently places you on the bed. he looks back at manami, “call all the healers and doctors, now!”

he looks down at you, and he grips your hand with it and presses it to his lips. he murmurs softly, “you will be okay; don’t worry,” he clutches your shirt.

he repeatedly apologizes and brings you fully into his arms. he watches your breathing slow down, and he feels your skin get colder. your expression starts to relax little by little.

it sends geto into a frenzy. he snaps, “where are the doctors?! why is no here yet?!”

manami runs inside and pants, “a-all the doctors have been k-killed.”

geto stops feeling the tips of his fingers, and he looks down at you. he starts breathing frantically, “then get anyone! anyone who knows about poison!” he cups your face and shakes you lightly, “y/n, please open your eyes.”

“suguru,” you say weakly, and he instantly lowers his head, so he can hear you better. you whisper softly, “I love you.”

he nods repeatedly, “and I love you too, so you have to stay awake, so we can say it again, yeah? come on, y/n.”

he moves your hair away from your face, his hands shaky as he falters, “can you say it again? one more time.”

your body stills in his arms, and he shudders, “just o-one more, y/n…” he closes his eyes, burying his face in your chest. your arms are limp, and he is left hugging your body.

everybody stays silent, and they watch geto not leave or loosen his hold on you.

he looks up slowly at manami and speaks lowly, “round up everyone that had an affiliation to that scum; those filthy monkeys will pay for what they have done.”

NANAMI KENTO:

nanami heaves a sigh of relief when he spots yuuji, “are you okay?”

the young boy nods frantically, and nanami looks around him then at yuuji again, “is y/n not with you? have you seen her? anywhere?”

yuuji shakes his head, regretfully, but nanami takes a deep breath, “it’s fine; let’s search for her together, okay?” he assures.

yuuji smiles and nods, determined, “yes!”

nanami barely manages a reassured nod of his own, his mind focused on finding you. in fact, he starts running, eyes quickly scanning each street and corner for any sight of you.

he clenches his jaw, remembering what you said before taking this mission.

“kento, I have a really bad feeling about this.”

he dismissed your worries and pulled you close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. he hummed softly, “I know, but we have to do it. if things go bad, then we have gojo present anyway.”

gojo is not present. shibuya is slowly turning into a city full of blood and corpses, both non-sorcerers’ and sorcerers’. he regrets not listening to you, but what else could’ve been done?

all he can do right now is find you and make sure you’re okay. that is his first and most important priority.

“nanamin, I found her!” yuuji screams excitedly, pointing at you who was busy thwarting off the myriad of curses charging at you. at the sight of you, nanami’s body relaxes, and he lets out a small smile.

you punch a curse back to a building, so you can finally turn to your husband.

“kento!” you grin and start running towards him. you throw yourself into his arms, and he—as always—catches you. he pulls you close and takes in your presence, burying his face into your hair.

he lets out a small breath.

“I am so glad you’re okay,” he says, but then he feels a strange wetness on his hand. he pulls away slowly and looks down at it. his eyes widen in alarm.

it’s covered in blood.

he looks up at you and mutters, “y/n, are you hurt? where are you hurt?”

“I—I don’t know,” you look up at him, “I can’t feel anything, k—kento; I don’t want to die,” you plead, and he quickly tears off a part of his suit to cover your wound and trying to stop the bleeding.

yuuji quickly goes to try and find shoko.

he hugs you closer, applying pressure to the wound, while pressing gentle kisses to your hair, “you…you won’t; don’t worry.”

you grip his shirt weakly and look up at your husband. you manage a small smile, “have I told you how handsome you are?”

he chuckles weakly, trying to stabilize his voice, “mhm, but I would like to hear you say it again tomorrow; can you do that?”

you nod slowly, “yeah…”

he stays silent for a second and grips you a bit tighter, “do you promise?”

your breathing starts slowing, “promise,” your body relaxes against his, and you feel his hand go to hold your own. he massages your ring finger and raises your hand to his lips.

you close your eyes with a smile, “I love you, ken.”

“I love you more,” he replies instantly. you stay still, and nanami embraces you with the entirety of his body, burying your face into his chest.

he clenches his jaw and whispers, “so much more.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

the king of curses dodges another attack with a full-blown smirk on his face. he swiftly turns and slashes the person till they drop into pieces. his chest heaves with excitement.

that is until he catches the smell of your blood.

he turns behind him, and he is greeted by a sight that he would usually take the time to relish in: a myriad of dead bodies, some piled on top of each other, and blood splattered and spilled everywhere.

he ignores of all that as his feet take him to where he senses your cursed energy.

he sees you standing in the middle of the bodies, and your stance is weak. you’re clutching your side, trying to stop the bleeding. he slowly walks towards to you and teases, “what happened? the queen got hurt?”

you let out a small chuckle, “shut up; it’s a minor injury, nothing worth noting.”

that is until the skin over your chest starts bubbling, and your heart explodes. the blood splashes all over him, and your body drops lifelessly to the floor.

sukuna’s eyes lock with your own blank ones, and he can’t process all the feelings he has.

his chest starts heaving particularly quickly, and his jaw clenches. he bends to his knees—something he never thought he would do—and raises your head towards his, searching for a glimpse of your cursed energy.

his eyes bore into your own as he speaks your name roughly.

“stop playing games, y/n!” he barked, shaking your head in his hand, but you grace him with no response.

“haha! I took out your dear wife; what will you do about it now, you monster?!”

sukuna eyes’ snap to where the voice came from.

he then decides that he will put that man through torture that is not even close to the amount of fury in his chest. sukuna is silent, as he gently lays your head down and walks towards the man.

the sorcerer’s smile starts crumbling, and he quickly falls on his back while trying to move away from sukuna.

“s-stay back, or I will kill you!” he attempts to threaten, but sukuna’s expression is blank. blank being a permanent furrowing of his eyebrows and his lips are pressed into a thin line.

the moment the sorcerer turns his back, trying to flee, sukuna cuts his feet.

sukuna doesn’t give him the chance to scream and wordlessly stomps on his back. little by little, he presses harder on the man under him.

he continues until he hears the cracking of bones and coughs full of blood. sukuna watches as the man tries to claw at his feet, in attempt to escape.

“I will make you suffer ten times over for what you have done.”

and it goes down in history as the biggest carnage sukuna has ever committed.

it didn’t stop at that man.

it extended to all the villages surrounding the vicinity. every sorcerer met a crueller death than the one before him. the single women were eaten, and the married ones were slaughtered.

no man was to enjoy what he was stripped of, and he would let the world remember your name along his through the passage of time, and he would make the temple he erected in your name stand tall forever.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss@pompompurin1028@scul-pted@requiem626k@nameless-shrimp@sonder-paradise@jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412@maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1@sad-darksoul@ko-fi-heart@pumpkindudeishere@suyaaachin@babyqueen17@chaosguy352@murakami-kotone@sukun4ryomen@yumieis@hearts4itoshi@sleepyxxhead@dunixxd@sleepycrybbylaiah @imjustaduckwholikesbread @emilyyyy-08@spacebaby1@arabellatreaty@viscade @washeduphasbeen @janbannan @sugurubabe @enidths @mwtsxri @peppersapro @uranosbaaee

do not copy or plagiarize or I will rat you out to my bestie

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st4rbwrry · 10 months ago

Text

━━ 𝑘𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 .ᐟ satoru + getou.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 2.9k. fem chubby reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, black coded, threesome but getou’s our boyfie so boyfriend’s best friend trope!, anal + vaginal penetration, oral [ f ], handjob, a few lil gay moments teehee, getou is kinda insecure, satoru takes most of the lead, spitting, choking, check ins, impact play, praising, condom use, cockwarming, creampie, potential polyamory?, minors aren’t welcomed!

━━━ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱ ; dedicated to my bestie bc she harassed me about a getou + gojo fic since i never continued impure :/ <3 @thecoochiefairy

their postures are statue-like once you step foot out of the bathroom, both men eyeing you from head to toe, getou instantly standing to his feet with clammy hands he rested on his hips. satoru remained seated, legs spread as he groaned and pulled at his soft snow hair. they were lost for words. while they were busy finding a bar to grab a drink at the mall, you wandered off in search of a lingerie set, finding a simple pearl white babydoll, sheer mesh bodice, an open flyaway back, and matching panty set. it made you feel pretty, so you wore it for them.

their silence made your heart race nervously, playing with the fabric as your eyes flicker between the two faces, waiting for a response.

"you like it?" your voice is quiet as a mouse.

"i love it," they say in unison. getou blinks, forgetting he was here, honestly.

"you're fuckin' gorgeous, baby," satoru finally stands, being the first one to walk towards you, cupping the side of your face in his palm. you grow hot immediately. "stunning."

even though you've never had the slightest sexual encounter with satoru, the way he had your mind running wild with imagination was near insanity. of course, it was wrong to think of another man while clearly in a committed relationship. but, it was impossible when he was always around you. making jokes here and there about clearly wanting to fuck you. the infatuation was clear as day. you hated your attraction to him. that's why you had to do this, why you wanted it. both of them at once. your feelings were mutual towards them equally, and the sexual tension would never ease unless this happened. plus, it was your birthday. and as your gift, you asked getou for this one thing. your puppy dog eyes making him unable to object.

"give me your hands," you hold out both of yours, getou swallowing and coming forward to gently clasp your small hand, satoru doing the same before you smile and turn, the men stumbling behind you with their eyes on your ass, guiding them towards the bedroom.

a rush of confidence sparks through you now. you've been wanting this for so long, so it's only right that you show them. closing the door behind them, they stare ahead, looking down to see your fingers delicately skid across their abdomens, lifting their shirts and moaning at the abs on both of their bodies. they were toned, buff in the arms but nothing steroid-like. deeply cut v-lines and slim waists. you nearly drool from the feel, desperate to clutch their waists as they fucked you hard without a care.

"baby," it's clear you're referring to getou by the purr in your voice, tits pressed firmly against his side as he looks down at you with a clench of his jaw.

"mhm?" is how he responds, trying his best to remain complacent.

"take control," you bat your lashes. "it's your pussy before his."

getou groans, satoru's grin is sadistic, finding himself clasping your wrist, taking your attention from your boyfriend and burning his eyes in your own, tugging you near him. he caresses your face admirably, humming.

"aren't you obedient," satoru's palm slaps against the side of your cheek as he chuckles, and to getou's point of view, it's absurdly violent. you've never felt this spark before, the action making your heart thump with excitement. the look on your boyfriend's face was pure anger, that deadpanned expression only meaning that he was ready to snap. satoru tries to do it again, but is stopped as soon as getou catches his wrist forcefully.

"are you asking to die?" getou seethes, satoru only raising a brow, no remorse.

"you're really blind, huh?" satoru laughs, side-eyeing you. "she likes it. don't tell me your sex life is that dull."

getou inhales, releasing his wrist once you touch the side of his face reassuringly, smiling hazily. "i like it, it's okay."

he's stuck. not sure how to respond nor react. there's so much more he has to know about you. teach himself about. even though it's only been four months into your relationship, he feels like a stranger, uneducated about your sexual desires. now he's concerned if he pleasures you enough or not. maybe this was a lesson. maybe he should let satoru do most of the work and observe while still being present. watch your reactions to things he says or does that rile you up. there was nothing wrong with being taught.

"tell me what you want," getou clenches his jaw, grabbing the back of your head and tugging softly. getou was extremely soft and caring during sex, and although you were fond of it, sometimes you wanted him to be the opposite. "i'll give you anything. just say it."

warmth fills your chest, so entranced by his sweetness. your eyes lock with satoru's, "wanna ride his face."

satoru tongues his inner cheek, looking you up and down once more. " 'course you do."

getou has his eyes on you the entire time, those big eyes of yours wide with anticipation. "can i?”

"don't ask me with that innocent tone. you're anything but," getou grunts, taking you back by his side possessively. "come sit on me."

you follow like a lost puppy, getou taking his seat on the middle of the bed, one leg propped up as you crawl on your hands and knees to him, your face in his hands he caressed gently with his thumbs, kissing you and admiring you a while longer. satoru stands behind you, tilting his head to the side to capture a picture of the cute set on your body, his hands on your ass he brings back to rub the outline of his jean-clad cock against, groaning.

"fuck, you're really soft," his hand gropes your ass hard and it makes you whine, getou watching as you bite your lip and brush back against satoru who's dry humping you through the mesh thong you wore. "my dick is so fuckin' hard right now."

you swear your clits pulsating like a goddamn vibrator, moaning into getou's mouth after he kisses you, his eyes dark and pointed viciously in satoru's way, shoving his tongue in your mouth, barely paying you attention. he's watching satoru, making sure he takes care of you, doesn't hurt you. because if he did, he'd have to hurt him. satoru chuckles from the quiet obvious threat, molding your flesh in his rough palms. you're arching your back like a cat, panting in your boyfriend's mouth who's aware of your body sensitivity. the smallest touches leaving you feral. a cool breeze of air hits your soaked core as satoru pulls your panties to your knees, raising them so they're off fully, needing access to every region.

"fuck, that's a nice ass pussy," satoru grins, knitting his dark brows together, crystal blue eyes darting between getou and your weeping cunt. you yelp when two of his fingers brush over your clit, sliding it up to your core he taps a few times and hums. then he's bringing his fingers to his nose, liking the smell before he's sucking them off. "damn, this really all yours?"

getou rolls his eyes after satoru whistles, not waiting for him to say anything, which he doesn't, blocking him out anyways. it's all about you. he wants you and he's gonna stay focused on that. he's lowering to his knees on the ground, positioning your thighs so they're spread wider, barely preparing you before he's literally kissing at your cunt with tongue, like full on making out with it. you shudder instantly, mouth dropping and gripping at getou's thigh as satoru grunts and slurps up your juices, thrusting those same fingers into you. your eyes widen partially when his tongue trails up to your puckering hole, spitting, then kissing it up, bobbing his head up and down the entirety of you.

"ooo, my god. . ." you gasp, grinding back against his face, blindly tugging at the waistband of getou's jeans, getou studying you as your face turns in ecstasy, fumbling with your hands as you pull out his cock, whimpering as you spit into your small hand before wrapping it around to pump. getou clenches his jaw, placing his hand over yours to stoke it together, his bubblegum lips pouty as he kisses you hard, swallowing your moans.

"like fuckin' candy," satoru kisses your clit hard, lips wet before he's sucking on it hard, tongue moving everywhere, skidding over your thighs as he laps you up with a deep ‘fuck’, jaw moving side to side and his hand spanking your ass slow like he's drunk, the impact hard. it's a pattern, his spews of fuck become monotonous the more he eats at it.

fuck. spank, then moved his mouth. fuck. spank, then applies more pressure with his tongue. fuck. spanks you ten times harder, then growls. it was driving you mad, unable to stop shifting your ass.

"he's not gonna stop until you cum," getou says, now holding your throat in his hand, your face contorted as you whine.

"not once," satoru counters, getou looking over your shoulder with a brow raised, eyes trailing back to yours without disagreement.

"more than once."

"m'almost there," you cry, his mouth all too good, never reaching an orgasm this quickly.

"are you?" getou hums tauntingly, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. you nod, your breath hitching as he bites your lower lip and sucks, blood rushing. you jerk your hand faster, keeping it on the tip like he liked, getou folding easily, hips twitching.

"gonna give it to me?" satoru asks, never ceasing his assault, in love with the way your knees buckle.

"nnn, yea," you chew on your lips, already fucked out. not prepared for what they had in store for you next.

"yeah?" satoru mocks your tone, stuffing his fingers into you and moving to your desired pace. your vision goes static like an old television when you cum, falling forward to rest your cheek on your boyfriend's chest, both the men half stripping throughout your fixation. getou stops you from pulling at his dick, afraid he'll cum too quick. you have that affect on him.

satoru doesn't stop when you cum, he keeps going, more than once, he said. and he meant it. it's worse when getou pulls you up to suck on your neck, tugging at the hardened buds of your nipples , both men touching you at once was filthy, your head buzzing and your mouth nonstop with pornographic sonances. satoru takes his breath when he stands, licking you off his lips as if you were the best fucking dessert he's ever had. while you're left breathless, getou and satoru are pulling off the rest of their clothing, achingly hard they couldn't stand it any longer. you could read them well, especially getou, knowing when he's near done.

getou lays on his back and he pulls you on top of him, your messy face still so adorable. satoru grabs the bottle of lube and two condoms stashed in his drawer before coming back to the bed, brushing the white hair from his face and staring down at you as you turn to look behind yourself, teasing him by grinding your hips midair. satoru snickers, climbing on the bed and resting on his knees. he looks at getou.

"you go first."

your smile is lazy, hugging your man by his neck and cradling your face between it. getou holds out his hand, satoru passing him a condom, the gold packaging being torn with his teeth before he's tossing it aside and sliding it down his cock resting on his stomach.

"lift your hips," getou rasps, hands calloused on either side of your thighs, helping you up till he's sinking you down on it, stretching you good like he always does. you whimper by his ear, clenching your cunt around him once he's fully inside, swaying your ass, belly to belly as you grind and say his favorite word he liked to hear most of all from you; his name.

after satoru's secure, he spreads the lubricant over himself and then some on his fingers he uses to prep you. your cute little hole tensing when the heat from them grazes you, satoru telling you to take a deep breath and relax yourself before he's pressing against the unused entrance. you gasp when he managed to get them in, carefully thrusting past his knuckles. his fingers were as long as getou's. getou tries not to lose it, your pussy warming his cock with little to no movement. satoru continues to prep you for two more minutes, wanting to make sure he eases the discomfort just a bit.

"satoru," you whimper his name, giving him permission to take his turn.

it's a clear signal, and he doesn't waste time, towering over you and pinning down your lower back to arch you a little more. getou soothes you by caressing the sides of your legs, as well as smoothing them over your back. satoru aligns his reddened cockhead to your hole, kissing up your back as he gently pushes into you, inch by inch. the unknown stretch burns, getou turning his head to whisper comforting words to keep your mind off the pain, lifting his hips to fuck into you. the mixture of pain and pleasure has you clawing at his shoulders.

halfway in, satoru decides to bring you up, clutching your chin and getting his turn to taste your lips, sliding, slowly, deeper inside the longer his mouth moved with yours, getou observing you both.

"it's good? you're good?" satoru says in between breaths, hips so close to touching your ass.

"m'good. move, please."

it's enough to make both men move in sync, satoru biting at your neck with his face scrunched up, eyeing getou beneath you. the pain subsides, and all you feel are the tingles in the pit of your stomach, dragging out your moans as they both pounded into you, satoru finally getting deep like he wanted since you relaxed more.

"jesus, fuck . . . mmm," for some reason, the erotic expression on satoru's face makes getou blush, biting his lip as he watches the two of you lose yourselves. how you scratch at his shoulder and the elicit eye roll satoru does. getou never thought he'd feel like this, or like seeing you fuck another man so much.

"you look pretty as fuck taking both of us," getou grunts, smacking at your tits and you keen in shock. satoru must be getting to him now. you scream as the two men fuck you like they'd lost their sanity, gushing around getou's cock while satoru aggressively knocks his dick into you, both following each other's rhythms for you. your skin clashing, pouncing back on them.

"shit," getou whimpers, hips stuttering as he cums inside his condom, chest heaving erratically. you rush your hand over his hair, tugging and riding them still. satoru has his arm around your neck now, slamming his hips against your ass which makes you let go of getou, holding onto his forearm as your tongue lolls out and satoru switches positions.

you're lifted off getou, satoru tossing his condom off to slide into your sluice cunt, groaning and closing his eyes from the new feeling.

"cum inside me," it has getou stunned since you've never said that once, deathly afraid of the idea of pregnancy. maybe you gained a breeding kink overnight. he wonders what videos you researched prior to this that sparked this sudden fantasy to be dominated by two men, two roommates, two new best friends.

"was doing that anyways," he licks the shell of your ear with a malicious cackle. "bet you'd let me fuck you raw every day if it meant I'd get to fill you up."

"yess, baby," you weep, out of your mind entirely.

"baby?" satoru whistles, glaring at getou who only blinked. what's up with you? were you under his spell or something? "i like that. you tryna' make one with me?"

"get smacked," getou threatens.

satoru only grins, grabbing your chin and pressing his nose to your cheek, keeping his eyes on getou. "don't wanna be a daddy with me? it'd be fun. I'll push the stroller and you hold her hand so she doesn't trip with the other kid in her belly."

"cut it," getou seethes.

"you're no fun," satoru pouts, still fucking you back on his dick like it's nothing, your head spinning. his attentions back on you. "say it one more time for me."

"baby," you slur, swallowing the extra saliva built up in your mouth from drooling, giggling when he groans in approval.

"good fuckin' girl," satoru hisses, yanking you back hard, like some rag doll, your screams softening the longer he prolonged, balls slapping against your sticky clit and your tits bouncing so cutely in your babydoll set.

you slap your hands on getou's torso once you cum for your third time, tone drowning out by satoru's who growls and paints your tight walls white, your legs frantically twitching as you fall forward, getou swallowing, endlessly fascinated by you as he rubs you to cool you down.

"wanna watch it drip," satoru keens, raising your ass and holding the dip of your spine down, licking his lips as he watches the way his cum glides from you. "damn, i think it's my birthday, honestly."

you're spent, still shaky and barely having air left in your lungs. satoru leans over you, kisses your cheek with a loud 'muah!' before doing the same to getou, only he kisses him on the lips.

"don't kiss me, asshole!" getou splutters, palm over satoru's face as he shoved him away. you giggle weakly into your boyfriend's chest, reaching behind yourself to keep satoru pressed to your back for warmth, the three of you snuggled up comfortably.

“thank you babe,” you smile, elated.

“you’re welcome, baby,” they say in unison.

getou rolls his eyes, a petty grunt released. “she’s not talking to you.”

“s’okay, her pussy did,” satoru cackles, kissing your cheek with tongue to piss the black-haired man off even further. he remains silent. this time.

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0o-junebug-o0 · 4 months ago

Note

MORE AUTISTIC FEM! READER X SPENCER PLEASEEEE maybe her getting overstimulated at a bar with the team? or at the store? i neeeeddddd more of them!!

Bad Time at the Bar

here you go!! tho it's gn!reader bc gender didn't really come up, hope you don't mind!

genre: hurt/comfort

cw: autistic!reader, explicitly autistic spencer reid, overstimulation (and not the fun kind), meltdown (which reads a lot like a panic attack bc that's what my meltdowns are like), kinda self harm (hitting) and chewing lip until bleeding), internalized ableism and autism viewed in a negative light (spencer talks to reader about it and provides reassurance), completely gn!reader (reader is not described at all)

wordcount: 1.3k

There are too many people. The smell of sweat and alcohol hangs heavy in the air and burns your nose. The room is saturated with noise. Drinks clinking on tables, music playing, people talking. Your head pounds and you regret not bringing your headphones. You thought you’d be fine. You’ve never needed them when at the bar with the team in the past. Someone bumps into you and the unexpected contact causes panic to build in your chest. There’s not enough room. Everything feels like it’s closing in on you.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, gripping your bottle of beer so hard you’re surprised the glass doesn’t shatter. You chew on the inside of your lip until you taste blood, but it does nothing to soothe your quickly growing panic.

You look around frantically, your eyes so wide you feel like they’re about to burst from your skull. Finally, you spot Spencer. He’s gathered around a table with Derek and some strangers, talking animatedly about something. You stagger forward, nearly tripping over your own feet as you try to reach him. People slam into your shoulders and chest and you can feel the burn of tears welling in your eyes. The tears cause the already painfully bright lights to reflect directly into your eyes so you blink hard and wipe them away.

Your whole body shakes and you desperately want to raise your hands to cover your ears but you’re still holding your drink and there’s not enough room and it’s embarrassing. You can feel your heart pounding throughout your body and your limbs feel like they’re going numb.

By some miracle, you manage to reach Spencer. You stumble toward him, reaching out and clinging to his arm. He startles and turns to look at you. Immediately, concern rushes over his face and he takes your drink and passes it to Derek before gently grabbing your hand. As quickly as he’s able, Spencer guides you through the bar toward an exit, using his own body to force people aside and away from you despite his dislike of germs.

He holds open the back door and you practically fall into the alley. The door closes and immediately the smells, lights, and sounds lessen. You sink to the ground, pressing your hands against your ears now that there is no one but Spencer to see you. You curl your knees to your chest and stare with wide eyes at the ground. Each breath you take is a rasping, heaving mess, and a distressed groan forces itself from your throat with each exhale.

You feel like you’re dying.

Spencer crouches down beside you, sitting with his legs crossed and leaning against the wall, and you immediately press your body into his. You curl your legs beneath you and lean awkwardly in a way that hunches your back and presses your forehead into his knee. You squeeze your eyes shut and you can feel the way your tears soak his pants.

Spencer drapes himself over your back, using his body to provide the grounding pressure he’s learned you need in times like this. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes tightly. You let out a broken sob and slam the heel of your palm into the side of your head.

“Hey, hey,” Spencer mutters, gently taking a hold of your wrist.

You shake your head. You need to hit. You need it. And there’s no way to redirect.

Spencer releases your hand and you move it to thump it against your chest.

“Okay, that’s better than your head,” Spencer says to himself. He squeezes your body in intervals and the varying pressure helps ground you. Slowly your sobs lessen to sniffles and hiccuping breaths and the hand hitting your chest falls limp against Spencer’s leg.

“You’re okay,” Spencer mutters, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “You’re going to be alright.”

You sniffle and move your head to press it against his stomach.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says softly. You can hear the love and care in his voice. “You feeling a bit better?”

You hum and nod against him.

“Do you need some more time, or do you want to go home?” he asks, keeping his body pressing against yours in case you still need the pressure.

You tap his leg twice.

“Home?” he asks sweetly.

You nod, and Spencer sits back. The sudden lack of pressure makes your body feel weird, and part of you wants to drag him back down. You decide against it, knowing that you’ll get used to it quickly and that Spencer will hold you again when you get home.

Spencer carefully guides you to your feet and, keeping an arm wrapped around you, leads you out of the alley and down the street to his car. He opens the passenger side door and you climb in.

“Will you be okay for a minute or two while I run back in to grab our stuff from JJ?” Spencer asks.

You nod and do your best to smile at him. Spencer smiles back and closes the door. He locks the car and jogs back toward the bar.

You sigh and wrap your hands around your stomach. Guilt and embarrassment coil painfully in your chest. You can’t believe that just happened. You should have been fine. Why this time? Why the one time you didn’t bring your headphones? You groan in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? And Spencer. You feel so guilty for dragging him away from the rest of the team and the fun he was having to deal with you.

There’s a soft click as the doors unlock, then Spencer opens the driver's side door and climbs inside. You keep your head bowed as he closes the door and reaches into the backseat to set down both of your stuff.

You see him still out of the corner of your eye, and he rests his hand gently on your shoulder. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asks.

“I–I’m sorry,” you mutter weakly.

“For what, sweetheart?”

“For this! For everything!” you cry. “You–you were having fun and I ruined it! You shouldn’t have to deal with this!”

Spencer says your name softly and, when you don’t respond, he whispers, “Please look at me.”

You slowly raise your head, wiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I don’t care what it is I’m doing, if you’re upset or need help, I will always drop everything to be there for you. And it’s not ‘dealing with you’, baby. We’re partners. It’s our job to take care of each other. You can’t control when you get overstimulated or have a meltdown.”

“But I could have!” you insist. “I didn’t bring my headphones because I thought I’d be fine like every other time and then I wasn’t! It’s my fault I freaked out like this. I should be able to handle it.”

“There is no ‘should’. Having a meltdown will never be your fault. And I know you know that, because you would never think these things about me when I have a meltdown.”

Your jaw drops. “Of-of course not!” you stutter, taken aback.

“Then why is it different for you?” Spencer asks. “Why is your autism bad but mine isn’t?”

You open and close your mouth for a moment, unsure of what to say.

Spencer doesn’t speak.

“I–I don’t know,” you eventually admit.

“It’s because it isn’t bad. I understand why you might feel that way or why you feel guilty about making me deal with it, as you say. But I help you because I love you and care about you and because I want to. Just like you help me because you love and care about me and want you. And I will always choose to help you and be there for you, no matter what, no matter how ashamed you may feel. Okay?”

Your chin wobbles, and soon tears are streaming down your face as you let out a wailing sob.

Spencer leans over the armrest to hug you, neither of you caring about the awkward angle.

You pull back and wipe at your eyes. “C-can we go home, now?” you ask weakly.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Spencer says kindly.

“And then cuddles?”

“Always.”

_____

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chelseeebe · 1 year ago

Text

still into you, part 2

eddie’s back, keeping to his word while trying to make up for his past mistakes. will it all work out when your worlds collide?

sauurrr i feel like i want to do a part 3 bc i have ideas but i’m not sure !!??!! also i just wanna say that it’s felt sooo good seeing people in my notifications again, tumblr finally unshadowed me after emailing them god knows how many times !!

18+, mdni. smut. a lil bit of angst and mean words towards reader and mentions of pregnancy. no use y/n!

read part 1 here.

‎♡‧₊˚

he’s late.

you’d spoken on the phone this morning and eddie had told you he’d be back some time tonight and that you should wait up because it’ll be worth it.

and now he’s fucking late.

late or not even coming.

it had been a long month of phone calls and anxiously reading magazine articles about his whereabouts, learning to trust again hadn’t been easy. there had been a handful of times where he’d called too late and missed you or you’d called while he was out which meant you’d gone days without speaking.

steve had done his best to reassure you that it was just different out there and you shouldn’t worry. he’d made a promise, right?

but there’s a pressure in your chest now, a feeling you hadn’t felt since the first time he left. defeated and dejected once again.

eddie is so late that you fall asleep on the couch. the same couch you first kissed him on just a few weeks ago. your dreams are filled with images of eddie, the wide smile that graced his face when ella forced him into fairy wings or the look on his face when you’d roll over in the middle of the night and kissed the corner of his mouth.

you’re awoken by a soft palm cupping your cheek, eyes peeking open to see the familiar silhouette of curls and denim now illuminated by the flickering television, deep set frown on his lips.

“i’m so sorry,” he starts, the words sound like static in your barely conscious mind, “my plane was delayed and i couldn’t call you.. i’m so fucking sorry,” you realise he’s on his knees in front of the couch, still squinting as you adjust to the light.

“i thought you weren’t coming,” you murmur, placing your hand atop his, the pressure in your chest subsiding the more you realise that he’s actually real and not just a dream.

eddie sighs, it’s his fault for even giving you reason to have those doubts and that kills him. “of course not.. i made a promise,” his thumb strokes gentle patterns into your cheek, “i’m coming back, always.”

“mhm,” you nod, a mix of tiredness and a lingering lack of trust.

“you wanna go to bed?” he asks, desperate to get in your good books again. hell, he’d have to do far more than this to make seven years of shit up to you.

“only if you carry me,” offering your arms out, if ella can do it, you can to.

“obviously,” he chuckles, sliding his arms underneath your knees, hoisting you off of the couch.

you’re anything but quiet walking up stairs, giggling into his neck as he groans his way up the staircase. “fuck, i’m getting old,” he complains, backing his way into your room, gently laying your body on top of the duvet before knocking the door shut.

you nestle into the pillows, watching eddie as he undresses, his jacket hitting the floor with a soft thud. he’d only been gone a month but you’d missed his presence. the way his eyes glided over your body, enamoured by your less-than-impressive mom body.

he collapses onto the bed, shuffling underneath the blanket with you, reaching out to bring you closer. “i know i said..” his nose pokes against your neck, a deep inhale before he continues, “that it’d be worth it.. but i’m tired and you’re tired so.. can i just make it up to you tomorrow?” nuzzling against your soft skin.

your laugh vibrates against his cheek, sliding your arms around his neck, legs tangling together in a mess of limbs, “eddie munson turning down sex? jesus christ, what’s happened to you?”

eddie grunts, deep and husky, flipping the situation on it’s head as he clambers on top, “oh fuck you,” his barely holding himself up, body weight keeping you pressed firmly against the mattress.

“please do,” grinning up at him, marvelling the way that even in the dark, he was still the prettiest man you’d ever laid eyes on.

his lips find your neck, peppering kisses along your jawline, hips rutting against the thin material of your pajama shorts.

when his mouth meets the delicate spot between your collarbone and the crook of your neck, you can’t help but let slip the one thing you’d been waiting to say, “i’m glad you came back,” gasping as his teeth graze the fragile skin.

he pauses, looking up at you, basked in moonlight, “i’ll always come back to you,” mumbling quietly, before continuing his descent down your body.

your eyes flutter shut, allowing your body to relax, blissful desire overcoming every nerve.

holy shit, you were happy.

the next few months go by smoothly. he’s back when he says he’s going to be, keeping his nose clean and his head down while he’s out on the west coast.

of course it’s never easy saying goodbye. each and every time you’re filled with this sense of dread, petrified that this might just be the time he doesn’t return.

but he does.

each and every time.

eddie had got back late last night, still half-asleep as he sips his coffee next to ella, haphazardly feeding her the breakfast she was quite capable of feeding herself.

“i’ve been thinking,” he starts, watching as you busy about with dishes. he doesn’t understand how you have the energy to care about that shit this early in the morning. “i think you should come out to california with me.. next time i go back,” shoving a spoonful of mushy pancakes into ella’s mouth.

you pause but don’t turn to face him, staring down at the sink full of bubbles, “what for?”

that part of his life didn’t interest you one bit, maybe he enjoyed it and you were happy if he was but that wasn’t anything you wanted. in fact, you’d been meaning to bring it up for a while now.

you understood that dating eddie meant that strangers were far more interested in your relationship than they should be but they’d started to accost you at work, taking ella to and from school, just about anywhere in public. the attention was starting to get a little tiring, nothing you couldn’t handle but you’d wondered if he somehow had the power to stop them.

“well,” handing the spoon to ella and getting up from the table to join you at the sink, “we’ve got our album rollout soon so i’m gonna have to be out there a little longer this time,” his shoulder knocks into yours, pulling your attention from the dirty dishes, “but.. we have our release party and i want you to be there,” pulling that cheeky grin he knew you couldn’t say no to.

how much longer? he was already out there for weeks at a time, how much longer could they keep him? oh god what if they go on tour? you’d never cope.

“release party?” grabbing the dishcloth, wiping the suds from your hands, “i don’t even know what that is.. you don’t want me there,” turning to face him and his sickening smile.

“of course i do,” lips turning into a frown, taking the cloth from your hands, “it’s a small party.. the boys and their girlfriends.. a few people who helped on the album,” he’s serious now, dipping his head to meet yours. “they wanna meet you, everyone does.”

you sigh, looking into his gleaming eyes. you’re obviously apprehensive to agree, if the stories you’d heard of the other guys were anything to go by, that weren’t the goofy nerds you’d once watch practice all night, now you think you’d actually probably hate them.

“what about ella?” turning to look at your daughter, your one saving grace.

“i’m sure we can figure that out,” eddie blinks, “steve can have her or.. or his mom,” throwing out anything he could think of, “i’ll throw them some money, make sure she has the best week ever,” rubbing his fingers together.

“he won’t take your money eddie,” you sigh. steve would never, because as much as he now liked eddie, he was still your best friend and he knew you’d kill him if he did.

“no,” eddie whines, “it’s not for steve, it’s for ella.. so they can go and do whatever they want.. eat whatever they want.. you know,” he peers over your shoulder at the kitchen table, eyes gleaming with opportunity. “ella, don’t you think mommy should come with me and you can have a vacation at uncle steve’s house?”

you tut as ella chimes in with a loud, enthusiastic “yes!” banging her fists against the table.

your palm meets his chest, “don’t use my own child against me, asshole,” struggling to stop your lips from curling into a smile. it was working and you hated the fact that you were so easily swayed by him.

“ella has spoken!” he exclaims, taking your hand on his chest into his, “so you’ll come?” cocking his head to the side, much like a tiny, manipulative little dog.

you huff, admitting defeat, “fine.. but only if steve says yes and there’s no guarantee he will,” flicking your eyes back over to ella, who is watching with a massive toothy grin.

it’s times like these that you’re grateful she doesn’t take after her dad.

of course steve says yes. useless prick.

“why don’t you wanna go?” his brows furrowed, sipping the overpriced coffee he’d suggested you go get.

“can you imagine me in la? me? really?”

he chuckles, “yeah.. yeah i can actually,” shaking his head. knowing steve, he’d probably been thinking about how he would fit right in there. if you ever did end up moving west, there’s no way in hell that you’d leave him here.

“shut up,” brushing him off, “what if nobody likes me?”

it had been a genuine worry of yours since before eddie had even asked. there’d surely be a thousand eyes on you seeing as you were now very publicly with him. you paled in comparison to his exes. models and singers alike. you were just some frumpy mom who no one had ever heard of.

why would they like you?

“stop it,” steve swats at you, “they’ll love you! i love you so they’ve got no reason not to!”

but you weren’t so sure.

so after weeks of fretting about clothes and deliberating over whether you should even go with steve, you jet off to lax.

you’d attempted to pay for your own ticket but eddie hadn’t accepted any of it. told you it was all taken care of and all you had to do was go. much to your disapproval.

there are a few fans at the airport, with no interest in you, obviously. they were so used to him at indianapolis airport now that the paps didn’t even bother.

eddie’s excited babbling about the party keeps you relaxed throughout the flight, focussing on his smile and not the fact that you were thirty thousand feet in the air.

everything starts to feel real when you land and are immediately ushered through the airport, bundled into a car and told to stay put until they got your luggage.

holy shit.

“there’s some dickheads out front.. it’s just so we don’t see them,” eddie soothes, taking your hand into his, resting on his thigh.

“is it always like this?” you ask, curious about this side of his life that you never saw. even more grateful that people in indiana mostly left you alone now.

“sometimes.. but they’re only doing this because of the album.”

you nod, sitting in quiet reflection as people come and go constantly. bustling around the car, muttering things to eddie as they do. it all just seemed so overwhelming, like there was never a moment alone.

eventually, your bags get stuffed into the car and you begin the journey to god knows where, all the while clinging onto eddie’s hand with a iron tight grip.

when you turn into a gated driveway, you sit up. peering out of the window at the glorious garden. his drive was bigger than your entire house, you couldn’t imagine having this much room at your disposal.

his house is big. actually, big is an incredible understatement. it’s breathtaking.

nicer than anything you’ve seen before. you couldn’t even begin to materialise how much he must have spent. you’re not sure you even want to know.

the ceilings loom ten feet tall, walls covered in tasteful but overpriced art. the sofa alone probably cost more than your entire house. christ, it’s the size of your living room as it is.

“jesus christ,” you breathe, still taking in the lavish house, gawping at the tacky statues and the glistening glass chandelier hanging above your head.

“nice, isn’t it?” he states, still wheeling your suitcases behind him, “obviously i didn’t decorate it myself.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you smile, marvelling the rather excessive house, “you don’t need all of this,” gesturing around the room.

“hey,” he pouts, ditching the suitcases to make his away over to you, “this house used to be very useful when..” trailing off as he realises just what he was going to say.

“when what? when you were a whore?” you bite, only half-joking.

“woah,” awkwardly laughing, unsure of whether you were joking or not, “when i had parties,” correcting your presumptions, “but i’m a boring man now.. thanks to you,” his arms snake around your waist, pulling you into his body.

your arms return the favour, tilting your chin to match his, “hmm is that right?”

his eyes are no longer on yours, gazing down at your lips with a twinkle of lust, “yup..”

“oh, well maybe i should just go..” but before you can finish, his hands are grabbing your ass, palming at the doughy flesh.

“uh uh,” pressing your heads together, pausing just before he connects your lips, “i’m never letting you leave now,” and with that, he finally kisses you.

skilfully walking you backward through the large foyer, still palming at your ass as he does so. you should’ve known that this was first on the agenda. there weren’t as many opportunities for the two of you to have sex at your house.

his lips hang from yours, leeching onto your bottom lip, palming at your sweater, eager to get it off. “i’ve thought about having you in every single room in this house..” he mumbles into your mouth, making your cheeks burn.

“every.. room?” you speak softly through kisses, bashful at his words.

“mmm,” he grumbles, hand slipping under the soft material of your sweater, brushing over the curve of your waist, “need you.. here,” walking your body back into the marble counter, your lips still barely connected, “in there,” gesturing back towards the grand living room, “everywhere,”

your thighs squeeze together in anticipation of it all. you were flying back home in a week, there was not a chance you’d get through the entirety of this massive house in that short time.

eddie growls into your mouth, hoisting your body onto the countertop in one swift movement, forcing his way between your legs. you can feel his cock already, pressed against your throbbing cunt.

his tongue slides into your mouth, moving against your own with hungry movements. you were too old for this kind of excitement, the ferocity was making your head spin.

his hands are quick, working your sweater off without much interruption, immediately finding your lips again. your hips cant, chasing the needed friction of his cock, eager to strip him from the rough denim.

“someone’s impatient,” a rough laugh echoes from his lips, but he’s obliging. unbuttoning your jeans before patting your thigh to move for him.

you do, letting his cold hands slide your jeans down your thighs, stuck around your ankles as he’s really not concerned with taking them off fully. you’re soaked already, can feel it when the fresh air hits your heat.

eddie’s focused now, his own pants pulled down around his knees, cock jumping in his boxers when your hand reaches out to touch his chest. you liked that. the fact that even now, you could control him with a simple touch.

“jesus baby,” he remarks, two fingers slipping between the crotch of your underwear, “you don’t know how much i’ve thought about this,” mouth hanging open as he works his way between your soaked folds and into your hole, eliciting a sharp gasp from your mouth.

he’s slow with it, curling his fingers at just the right spot, “oh god,” you whisper, one hand clinging to his forearm, the other holding onto the hard counter.

your eyes flutter shut, head rolling back, granting him access to your untouched neck. he immediately attacks the delicate skin, no doubt leaving his mark like some unruly teenager.

“need you now baby..” he grumbles, removing his hand from between your legs and nudging his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring up, already leaking with pre-cum.

“yeah.. yeah,” muttering into the room, heels attaching around his hips, urging him to speed things up.

his hair brushes against your neck as he gazes down between your bodies, staring in awe at the way they connected, almost losing all composure when his cock nestles between your folds and slides perfectly into your quivering cunt.

pretty pink lips parting to groan when he bottoms out, savouring the feeling for just a moment before his hips take over. his pelvis connects with the backs of your thighs, finding his rhythm, seeking whatever pace made you the loudest.

your quiet squeaks aren’t enough for him, after years of being quiet, you’re not used to having the freedom to be loud.

“c’mon sweetheart,” he pants, hand skirting around your hip, squeezing the flesh, “i wanna hear you,” slipping out of your cunt, refusing to give you what you want without something in return.

your eyes open to eddie, staring right back at you, devilish grin on his lips, “don’t be mean,” you pout, squeezing your legs to pull him forward, huffing in frustration when he keeps back.

his forehead presses against yours, glossy eyed as he gazes into your eyes, “this what you want?” he bites before sinking back in, profanities tumble out of his mouth.

a disgusting whine finds itself at your lips, filling the space between you, drawing his gaze to your wetted lips. “that’s it baby,” thrusts starting to gain speed, his tip bullying your walls.

you can’t help but get louder, keeping your eyes trained on his dilated pupils, moaning with each time his pubic bone brushes against your starved clit. knuckles turning white as you grip onto the counter, chanting his name like some sort of mantra.

“there she is,” he pants, slamming into you with such speed that makes you feel as if you’re flying. it’s filthy how much the wet, pornographic noises your bodies are making spurs you on. only wanting to get louder to match them.

eddie’s thumb meets your neglected clit, circling the bud in line with his thrusts. the pleasure is overwhelming, sending your head into the clouds and your stomach hurtling toward your long-awaited orgasm.

“eddie..” drawing out his name, letting it echo through the decadent kitchen, “fuck,” fingernails leaving behind half-moon markings on his forearm, unsupported by the ruthless motion of his thumb against your clit.

you’re struggling to even stay with it, gasping for breath as your walls tighten around him. sighing as he begins to falter, “you gonna cum princess? huh?” beads of sweat beginning to form on his nose, holding his own orgasm off to allow you yours first.

“yeah.. yeah,” you babble nonsensically, “oh fuck.. oh eddie,” thighs trembling around his hips as you topple over the edge, holding onto the counter for dear life as your orgasm takes over.

body going numb as the fuzzy feeling takes over, watching his lips mouth that’s it and baby’s over and over. trying not to topple over as his cock continues to nudge against your spongy walls, slowing as his own orgasm begins.

“cum in me,” you urge, completely besotted by your own desire for him, “please,” resorting to begging when his eyes squeeze shut, unable to hold himself off any longer.

he grunts, you coax him through it, ankles still resting at the small of his back, unrelenting with their grip as his cock spurts thick ropes of cum, painting your walls. “shit- baby.. i- you-,” he puffs, “what the fuck,” throwing his head back, his messy fringe sticking to his damp forehead.

“sorry..” you mumble, ashamed by the way you turn into a ravenous monster around eddie, wanting to give him your all and nothing else.

“jesus christ don’t apologise,” his hands clamp around your cheeks, pulling your face to his for one final kiss, mumbling a quick i love you before helping you from the counter.

eddie’s in his element here, not that he didn’t make himself at home in your home, but this was his domain.

there’s a strange twinge in your heart, a rogue voice that occasionally makes an appearance, something that made you question whether he was really happy with your little life or if it was just something he was accepting for the time being.

you bury it down, refusing to let it grow into anything more and follow him down the hall, listening to him complain about his back.

nothing could’ve prepared you for the party. it couldn’t have been further from how eddie had initially sold it to you.

it’s all bright lights and thousands of people. expensive dresses and unfamiliar faces fill the room, prodding and poking at eddie and subsequently you. wanting to know the ins and outs of everything.

fuck. you think. this is suffocating.

there’s no release, people are fucking everywhere.

even after you gulp down a glass of wine, people whizz around you, echoing fake niceties about your dress or your hair or whatever materialistic bullshit they were pretending to care about.

eddie is a natural of course. he’s been doing this for years. he always had the ability to carry a conversation, to make people listen to him. you weren’t so lucky.

he’s prattling on about some sick riff on the new album now, barely giving you chance to let him know you’re going to the bathroom.

hoping to seek some solace from these vultures. you so wished steve was here. he’d make everything feel better, tell you that it was okay and that these people don’t deserve your time.

but he’s not. he’s a thousand miles away, probably tucked up in bed with ella. somewhere you longed to be.

after a long ten minutes in the cubicle, uttering a chorus of positive affirmations to yourself, you push your way out, right into the crowd of very glamorous women all stood in front of the mirrors. reapplying their makeup or touching up their already stiff hair.

one of the older ladies takes notice of you lingering behind, turning to face you with a smug smile, “you’re eddie’s new thing, aren’t you?”

venom laced between her words, rolling effortlessly off of her sharp tongue. the other women all turn in tandem, all narrowed eyes and faux smiles.

“uh.. i’m his girlfriend,” shaking their glances off, focusing on the stream of running water on your hands and not the prickly feeling at the back of your throat.

“oh! girlfriend!” she titters, barging into one of the other, “usually they don’t make it that far.. what d’you have that the others didn’t?” her icy gaze runs the length of your body.

no doubt judging your dress, the way your mom body sat in the lavish fabric. you don’t blame her. you’d hated it from the moment you first looked in the mirror.

“we..” clearing your throat to avoid your voice cracking, “we used to date.. in high school,” you could feel yourself physically shrinking, reverting back into the same quiet girl you were in school.

“aw sweet,” there’s not even a hint of sincerity in her nasally tone, “well you know, we all thought gigi was gonna be the one,” the other women nod in agreement, “he was just different with her.. everyone thought he was going to propose.. never seen him like that since,” nodding like she’d won a contest you weren’t even competing in.

her words sting, and she knows it. in fact, she relishes it. even though you know she’s only doing it for some sort of reaction, you still let them in. your heart prangs in your chest; now stood frozen in front of the basin.

“you have a kid, don’t you?” she continues, clearly unhappy with your lack of reaction. wanting to stick her claws in just a little deeper.

you nod, biting down hard onto the inside of your cheek. trying to swallow the growing lump in the back of your throat.

her eyes wander down once again, “yeah i thought so.. eddie always said he didn’t want kids,” tutting her shiny white teeth, “i wouldn’t expect him to hang around long, he’s at the peak of his career darling.. no time for high school sweethearts and their kids.”

and that’s it. the final blow. slicing through your chest, churning your guts from the inside out. a stranger had affirmed every single fear and doubt you’d had. crumbling the facade you’d curated for this fucking party.

you don’t even give her the satisfaction of a reply, or perhaps you give her exactly what she wanted, storming out of the bathroom with a trembling bottom lip and watering eyes.

instead of going straight back to eddie, you find a quiet corner, facing the wall as you collect yourself the best you can. your throat hurts, the lump struggling to disappear, tears threatening to spill over as you attempt to remember how to breathe.

eddie is higher than you’ve ever seen him before, relishing in the moment. he’s completely different out here. talking to any and every one, turning the charm on the second someone walks his way.

“eds,” mumbling quietly, tugging on his arm to garner his attention.

you hated him a little for even convincing you to come. why couldn’t he have just sent pictures? no fuck that, why couldn’t he have just stayed here and never forced his way back into your life?

you don’t mean it. you love him.

“hmm?” not quite looking at you.

“i wanna go back.. i don’t feel good.”

this is where he turns, focusing his attention on you, brows furrowing immediately, “what? what’s wrong?”

now, you could tell him. let him know that his friends were assholes and you were either going to burst into tears or run out of this place screaming. but decide to leave it until you’re back at his, there was no use in causing drama on his night.

“i just..” you sigh, dipping your head low so no one else could hear, “i don’t feel good.. maybe i’m sick,” it wasn’t a lie as such. your stomach had been turning all night but you’d brushed it off as anxiety, eager to not ruin the party.

“well-,” he begins but stops, “d’you want me to come with you?” though you can tell he really doesn’t want to. you don’t blame him.

eddie’s always been an extrovert, begging for people to pay attention to him, even if it meant tussling with basketball players or anyone else that dared to question his character. he just wanted people to notice him.

“no no.. i just wanted to let you know,” chewing on your bottom lip, his face becoming increasingly more concerned with every word. you hope he hasn’t noticed your watery eyes, not in the mood to have to explain what had happened right here, right now.

“okay.. we can go, it’s okay,” eddie soothes, picking up that something wasn’t right.

this is what you’d tried to avoid, not wanting to selfishly snatch him away from his event, his friends and his album launch.

“no.. stay here, i’ll be fine, just need to.. rest,” brushing him off, as if you wouldn’t kill to just curl up in his big bed, talking away all of the harsh comments you’d heard.

his expression becomes incredibly soft, despite the crowd surrounding the two you trying to pry, “you sure? i don’t mind..” he frowns, “i’ll come back with you, I don’t want you on your own if you feel that shitty,” already looking past you trying to catch someone’s eye to tell them about the change in plans.

“no!” you push, rather quickly, “please don’t let me be the reason you miss this.. i promise i’ll be fine,” pulling away from his grasp, rushing out of the building with absolutely no plan to get back.

eddie strides along behind, grabbing onto your arm, forcing you to stop and face him, “hey.. stop, i’ll get rob to drive you,” guiding you through the see of people and out into the fresh air at long, long last.

it’s like you can finally breathe again. the stifling heat of a hundred bodies wasn’t helping your anxieties, relief washing over your body the second the november breeze hits your flushed face.

he leans into the same car you arrived in, muttering something to who you assume is rob, motioning for you to come over. you oblige, standing at his side as he repeats what’s happening to you though none of the words compute.

“i won’t be long, okay? a couple hours max and then i’ll be back,” pulling you in for an unreciprocated hug.

he bundles you in to the back of the car, nodding to rob to start the journey.

you’re thankful the conversation is non-existent, leaning your forehead against the window, drawing lines into the condensation on the glass.

you want to go home.

and not eddie’s house.. home.

three days had been more than enough for you to decide this life wasn’t for you.

wiping spaghetti off of ella’s smiley face was. gossiping with steve about people you went to high school with was. los angeles certainly wasn’t.

eddie stumbles into the bedroom some hours later, obviously tipsy with a vague stench of booze and people clinging onto his clothes. the smell turns your stomach, peering over your shoulder to see him sliding his suit jacket off, trying to be quiet but failing miserably.

"whoops sorry.. did i wake you?" he asks, slightly slurring his words.

"no, i wasn't asleep," you shift, turning to face him, preparing to break the news.

he slides into the gargantuan bed, running a hand over his face as he comfies himself, "you all okay now?" extending his hand to rest on your waist, smoothing his fingers over the thick duvet.

you exhale, peering up at him through the dimly lit room, "i think i'm gonna go home tomorrow," you’d stewed on it all night and decided it was what’s best.

“what?” his hand stops, sitting up to see you better.

“i’m going back to hawkins tomorrow.”

“why?” he exclaims, unable to comprehend why tonight had gone from a great night to you rushing off home.

“because i miss ella,” you’d umm’d and ahh’d about telling him what had gone down in the bathroom, ultimately deciding not to. he’d only reiterate some bullshit about it not being true and you shouldn’t worry, it wasn’t worth the effort.

“it’s three more days babe.. wha- i don’t understand, where’s this come from?” he’s breathing heavily, focussing on sobering up you suppose.

you sigh again, hesitant to tell him that his friends were assholes and had made you feel like shit. “i just.. i guess i don’t fit in here,” shrugging it off, minimising the niggling thoughts of insecurity that had planted themselves into your brain.

“what are you talking about?” eddie frowns, genuinely perplexed. “did something happen? what are you not telling me about?”

you shake your head, struggling to find the right words, “there was just..” trailing off into the void, “someone said something to me and i’m-,” biting down into your bottom lip, decidedly letting it all out, “i don’t want this life eddie, i never asked for this.. for people to try and pick my life apart! that wasn’t part of the deal!” becoming increasingly frustrated with your boyfriend.

how could he not get it?

“woah.. who said something? i can fix that,” his eyebrows knit together, you’re not sure if he’s angry or just confused. “if you don’t tell me, i can’t do anything.”

“what are you gonna do?” nostrils flaring at his inability to just understand, “what’s said was said.. and i want to go home eddie, that’s the end of it,” running a hand through your hair, still stiff with hairspray and whatever other gunk the stylist had shoved into it.

“jesus christ,” he huffs, sick of the conversation, of trying to get you to stay. “fine. i’ll get someone to change your flight in the morning, can you wait that long?” his snarky voice making an appearance. you hadn’t missed that.

“thank you,” you whisper, unable to get any louder for fear of the lump in your throat.

instead you turn over, squeezing your eyes shut, refusing to let the tears brim over. eddie wouldn’t have understood even if you could tell him, ella wasn’t his kid, those words wouldn’t hurt the same. sure, he’d be pissed and he’d more than likely get her fired but what use was that now?

she’d still uttered the words. still forced her poison into your brain, she’d already got what she wanted.

eddie barely musters up two sentences to you in the morning, speaking in hushed tones to the muffled voice on the other side of the phone.

everything’s fucked and it’s your fault. he knows it too.

“flight’s in four hours.. rob’ll take you to the airport at twelve,” he huffs, hanging the phone back on the wall with enough force to make the plastic rattle.

“thank you,” you call after him, watching as he disappears down the long hall. he had just trampled on your already throbbing heart, stomping on the organ as if it didn’t matter.

when rob arrives, eddie’s in a more optimistic mood, wheeling your suitcase out of his room with a sullen expression, attempting to sway your mind one last time. “i can always cancel this flight..” opening the large door for you, “you can stay if you want to.”

“eddie..”

and with that, he knows it’s not going to work. blinking rapidly, a deep sigh coming from his chest, “right, got it.”

his hand slams the car door shut, still lingering on the metal as you sit inside. you felt like a petulant child, being sent away because you dared to disobey the rules. it’s all so stupid.

and deep down, eddie knows that ultimately, this is all his fault. he’s the one that skipped town eight years ago, left you without so much as a note to explain himself. as he watches the car roll down the drive, he lets himself wonder what life would’ve been like if he didn’t leave, if you’d even still be together or if this had to happen to bring you two back together. the universe was cruel like that.

the airport is bustling, families dithering around trying to find their flights and busy men dashing from one place to the other.

there’s only one thing you need and that’s the bathroom. shoving yourself and your things into a cramped cubicle to do what you needed to do.

and maybe you were being silly, perhaps the stress of last night had got to your head and now you were jumping to crazy conclusions.

but you’d been here before. known the signs, the little things that most people would probably just brush off. so you’d made rob pull into a gas station on your way to the airport and bought a two pack of the cheapest tests you could find.

five minutes feel like five hours. refusing to even peek at the shitty piece of plastic until the time was up.

your heart is thudding, blood pumping around your ears so loudly that you’re sure the lady in the stall next to you could hear it.

hands shaking as you turn the test, two thin blue lines reveal themselves on the tiny screen.

the test clatters to the floor, your mouth falling open as your eyes fog. it wasn’t like you didn’t know, you just didn’t know.

and now you do, everything feels fragile. someone’s cough rings in your ears, the sterile bathroom felt a thousand times smaller than it did five minutes ago.

eddie always said he didn’t want kids.

her voice echoes around your head, just as snarky as it were the first time you heard it. you feel sick. the acidic liquid rises quick, forcing you to spin and stick your head into the porcelain bowl.

emptying your stomach until your throat stings, retching and coughing, trying not to start sobbing.

eddie always said he didn’t want kids.

you can’t tell him, not yet anyway.

fuck.

a thousand thoughts flood your mind. were you even still together? he was on this press tour for weeks now. you can’t tell him over the phone. maybe you had broken up and you wouldn’t ever have to let him now. he would just have an illegitimate child in his hometown that he’d never know about.

nothing felt right. the high you’d been riding from the first two days with him had quite violently come crashing back to earth.

the only thing you want to do is tell steve.

he probably wouldn’t know what to do nor would he be very much help, you just needed to know that everything was going to be okay.

it’s the first thing you say as you slide into steve’s bmw, blurting out the news like it wasn’t potentially life changing.

as expected, his jaw drops, blabbering about babies at a hundred miles an hour. excited and amazed all at the same time.

“- i haven’t told him yet,” you manage to spit out in the middle of his nonsensical ranting.

“what?”

“i didn’t even know until i got to the airport,” you sniff, staring at the drops of rain on his windscreen rather than his eyes. “he’s on this press tour for weeks now.. i can’t tell him over the phone.”

“well shit,” steve’s shoulder slump, empathising with your less than ideal situation, “you have to,” he blinks, focusing on the road ahead.

“steve.. i don’t think you understand,” swallowing the air, unsure if the car was the best place to tell him about your little argument. “shit happened, it’s not.. it’s not that easy.”

he frowns, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel as he drives, “well,” voice louder than expected, “we’ll think of something, trust me.”

your body relaxes for the first time in hours. if no one else had you, you know steve did.

there are paps fucking everywhere, littering the sidewalk as steve pulls into your drive, the bright lights already blinding you.

“what the fuck?” steve screeches, turning to face you in the driver's seat. They aren’t dumb, they know that if they step on your property, you are well within your rights to escort them off. so they hang back, inching towards the car but staying far enough away to not allow you to get them off.

“i don’t know.. i don’t know,” shaking your head, you were baffled how they had even found out you were home. you’d known they were scummy but christ, not this scummy.

“just get inside and I’ll bring your stuff in,” steve nods reassuringly, stepping out of the car ready to punch whoever got in his way.

you exhale, preparing for the onslaught of questions and pictures. the key poised in your hand to get you inside as quickly as humanly possible. word must have got out that your trip had ended abruptly, that or someone had seen you sulking around the airport like the sad sack you were.

your feet stumble along the asphalt, holding your hand to your face as to guard your eyes from the flashes. hundreds of questions echo in your ears, what happened between you and eddie munson? have you broken up? did he cheat again?

it’s god awful. gritty voices screaming across the lawn at you. steve has your suitcase rolling behind him, jaw clenched as he guides you to the door.

“you’re harassing a pregnant woman you fucking scumbags! go fuck yourselves!” he unleashes over his shoulder, flapping his arms about.

your mouth falls open, pulling him through the door and into your hall. the one thing you had not wanted him to let slip and he had just blurted it out to the crowd of hungry vultures.

it’d be the first thing on the front page tomorrow and yet you still hadn’t told eddie. at least now you didn’t have to.

he knows he wasn’t supposed to say it too, hand slapped across his mouth, inundated with shock and regret. “i’m so sorry, i’m so fucking sorry,” he rushes, eyes like saucers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, “i’m an idiot.. fuck! i’m sorry,” you cheek smushed against his chest.

the familiar feeling opens the floodgates, tears stream down your cheeks, wetting his t-shirt as your shoulders shake. wailing hysterically into his beating chest. he wasn’t quite expecting this, more so a few hours of the silent treatment.

“oh no.. i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to,” steve whispers into the air, his chin coming to rest atop of your head, squeezing your fragile frame in his arms.

“it’s not-,” rudely interrupted by a rogue hiccup, “shit.. it’s not you-,” hiccup, “oh my god,” you exclaim, tears turning into laughter at an unprecedented rate.

steve loosens his grip, confused as all hell at the mess you’d become against him. “jesus christ, are you okay?” holding your shoulders at arms length to examine the snotty, hiccupy mess in front of him.

“no,” you laugh, completely hysterical.

he guides you to the couch, making your movements for you, plonking down on the cushions in a flurry of emotion.

there you tell him everything. the party, the bitch with the sharp jawline in the bathroom and her nasty words, the aftermath and then all about your panic attack in a tiny lax bathroom.

it’s cathartic, knowing he won’t judge or diminish the way you feel. steve just listens, his hand rubbing small strokes on your knee every time you got to a juicy part.

how the hell were you ever going to tell eddie now?

there’s a knock at your door, mindlessly going to answer it without thinking much of the mad crowd of people that were out there just a few days ago. steve had gratefully been staying with you, helping with ella while also trying to hatch a plan to tell eddie without ruining everything.

it only occurs to you that it very well could be another nosy reporter as the door is already unlocked and slightly ajar.

you peep around the tiny crack, prepared to be bombarded with a bunch of questions and bright lights.

there’s none of that.

only the pitying image of one eddie munson stood on your doorstep with his shoulders slumped, black ray-ban’s hanging from his shirt and an inconceivable look upon his face.

“what the fuck?” he utters, barely audible. he looks exhausted, dark rings around his eyes with the body language to match. his hair in dark matter tangles hung around his face.

your mouth opens but the words fail to materialise, utterly speechless. there’s nothing you could possibly say now that would lessen the blow. and bless his soul, steve had fucked it.

no.

you had fucked it by running off back home without telling him the seemingly very important news.

“were you ever gonna tell me?” eyebrows screwed together, eyes glossy with what looked like tears.

“i.. i- yes, i was.. i didn’t.. i didn’t know,” pleading with him with your eyes, hoping they could tell him exactly what your words couldn’t. your lip trembles, as much as this had played on your mind since steve had let slip, the two of you still hadn’t come up with an acceptable explanation.

deep down you know really why you still hadn’t called him. you were scared, terrified even, that he’d laugh at you. tell you to fuck off, or get rid of it and to never contact him again. that wouldn’t surprise anyone, he was at the top of his career and definitely wouldn’t want to jack that in for his boring high school ex-girlfriend.

that’s what you’d told yourself anyway.

“when? when it was born?” his words are sharp, reaffirming every single fear you had conjured up in your brain.

you inhale sharply, the lump making it up and out of your throat before you had the chance to swallow it down. tears spill down your warm cheeks, the most ghastly cry coming from your mouth.

you must look utterly pathetic as eddie’s face softens almost immediately, springing from your doorstep and over the threshold to caress your cheek, mopping the tears with his thumb. “sorry.. i’m sorry fuck- i just wish you’d told me,” leaning forward to keep his eyes solidly on yours, any anger had dissipated from his face.

“i was scared, i’m sorry.. I didn’t know what to do,” burying your face into his shoulder, already wetting the shirt with your tears. shoulders shaking as you sob. “i swear.. i didn’t know until i got to the airport, i really- i just needed a few days..” howling into his steady shoulder.

he walks the both of you inside into your hallway, pushing the door shut before his other hand tangled into your hair, soothing out the wild strands. “i know.. it’s okay,” reassuring you even though you really didn’t deserve it.

“and that lady.. i don’t know, she got into my head,” sniffling, appreciating the familiarity of his cologne and the faint smell of cigarettes he always seemed to have.

his body stiffens, pulling your body from the safety of his, “what lady? is this about the party? fuck sake man, no one would tell me anything,” he’s serious now, frustration overcoming his features once more, although this time they weren’t directed towards you.

you sigh, using your palm to wipe your stinging cheeks, “it doesn’t matter.. and it’s fine, you know? i get it.. why someone like you wouldn’t want kids. i’ve come to terms with it,” nodding through your lines, despite the fact that you couldn’t have believed them less.

“what? what the hell are you talking about?” flabbergasted that you’d even suggest that.

your face falls, once stoic and ready to face being a single mom again. “that lady.. she said..” shaking your head, “you didn’t want kids,” bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill over again.

“oh my god,” it clicks for him, and you wish it would for you too. “that’s.. fuck- i did say that but it was a long time ago now,” his fingers dig into your arms, ensuring that he really hammers his point home, “of course i do.. shit sweetheart, of course i do,” the flecks of caramel in his eyes shine through ten-fold when he’s staring at you, glossed over with the remnants of his tears.

your mouth opens, moving though nothing comes out, hopeless as the words fail to form.

“you’re an idiot,” eddie laughs lovingly, pulling you back towards him, encasing your face in his rough palms, the cold of his rings soothes your tear laden cheeks. “why didn’t you tell me? or just ask me?”

you giggle a bit, shrugging your shoulders, “i don’t know.. i didn’t think,” nothing made sense and yet, you felt better than you had in weeks.

eddie’s here, in front of you, happy, grinning from ear to ear as he remembers why he’s even stood in your dark corridor, “baby.. we’re having a baby,” squishing your cheeks between his hands.

his joy is palpable, brushing off on you despite your leaking eyes. he still looks at you like that, even though you’d scarped off, even after you had let the world know you were pregnant before him. it was like the stars shon in your eyes, as if the very key to living was buried somewhere within your soul and he just had to be the first to grasp it.

your heart is bursting, a weeks worth of sleepless nights and fretting over destroying your relationship had come to this. to holding each other in the dim light, both terrified for what was to come.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things

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deadlynavigation · 1 year ago

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I think this is the place for requests? But honey, please I beg I think this is the place for requests? If so, can you to do a male! Wednesday Addams x reader where either (1) he’s super ultra clingy with the reader all day or (2) the reader meets his friends for the first time and he ends up being quite possessive even though MOST, not all, his friends know not to do anything? Thhhaaaannnkkkk yyyoooouuuu ❤️

Clingy

Warnings: mentions of not eating, like one swear, insinuations to smut (all very minor)

Author’s note: This was such a fun request! I went with the first one bc i honestly don’t know who Wednesday would befriend. Hope you enjoy 😊

It’s a silent Saturday morning in winter. No birds chirp outside, no sunlight glares at you through your windows, no visitors brave the cold in order to come visit you and Wednesday. It’s perfect.

You’re snuggled up in your warmest blankets, nabbed from the dusty linen closet. Wednesday chose a more unconventional way of warming up, which is to hold on to you as if you’re going to suddenly disappear. And though you appreciate the sentiment, you need to get up–you’ve been laying here for half an hour, waiting for your partner to rouse and remove himself from you. So far, he’s stayed fast asleep.

Soon, it’s been an hour, and you’re getting quite restless.

“Wednesday, babe.” you whisper-shout, wiggling around in his grip. No response.

“Wednesday,” You repeat in a louder voice, shaking him a little as you try to escape. This does the trick, and he slowly gets up before settling back down and holding you tighter than he was before.

You’re now even more trapped–that wasn’t part of the plan. “No, honey, I need to get up. I wanted to get to the shops today, remember?”

Wednesday looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eye as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. “Cara mia,” he says with a kiss to your lips. You start to melt into it, your body seeking the comfort this man provides, before you remember your mission. You pull back, breaking the spell.

“Wednesday, I’m serious. I actually want to do things today.”

He sighs and reluctantly lets go of you. “If you must.” You smile, pressing a quick kiss to his lips that he tries to prolong. You scurry away before he can and jump out of bed, eager to make up for the time lost. There’s a long list of shit to get done today, and it’s going to hang over your head until it’s complete. Wednesday is well aware of this, but that doesn’t mean he encourages it–so he makes it as difficult as possible for you to fall into that pattern.

Wednesday quietly observes you from the bed as you go through the motions, only dragging himself out of his comfy nest when you open the closet. You’ve shedded your pajamas already, on the hunt for some clothes suitable for running errands.

He wraps his arms around your waist, watching your face as you consider your options. Of course, he thinks you’d look fabulous in anything (including nothing), but he’s been told that’s not a very helpful opinion. So Wednesday leaves you to your decisions while he burrows into your neck, landing the occasional peck on your skin. His breath tickles your neck, and you can feel his words as he mumbles about it being much too early for you to be up.

Soon enough, you turn to him with a warning in your eyes. Wednesday can be very distracting, and you can’t let yourself fall into his arms just yet. Instead, you walk further into the closet and grab some trousers along with a top you were eyeing, throwing them on and covering Wednesday’s favorite view.

“Must you go, my love? There is so much to do here.” He whines. You pay no mind to him, strutting out the door and down the steep staircase.

Wednesday chases after you. “Will you at least eat first?”

You turn to him, and as desperate as you are to stay put and give Wednesday all of yourself, you hold strong. You walk back to where he stands at the start of the stairs, wrapping your arms around his neck and touching your nose to his in a lighthearted gesture. “My love, I promise, as soon as I get home we’ll eat or cuddle or do any other plans you had.” You seal your promise with a kiss.

Wednesday groans as you pull away, chasing after your mouth before settling. “But right now?”

“But right now, I have to get to town.” And with that, you nab the car keys from one of the many tables in the mansion’s foyer and briskly walk out the door.

It feels like it’s been days to Wednesday when you finally return, the door slamming shut behind you as you try to balance bags on your hips. Almost like a cat, Wednesday strolls up to you, stealing both bags before setting them down and pulling you to him by your shirt’s collar.

“Missed me?” You giggle, and those are the only words you’re able to get out before Wednesday collides his mouth onto yours. You move with him as he backs you into the wall, gasping when your back hits it. He forces his tongue into your mouth as you gasp, literally stealing your breath. The tension builds as you explore each other’s mouths, breaking away for air and diving right back in multiple times. You stand there for long minutes, raking your hands through his hair as his hands explore your entire body, from your hips to your neck to your thighs.

When he does pull away, you’re greeted with a beautiful sight. Your partner, standing above you with red cheeks, messy hair, and teary eyes.

“Oh, baby, I wasn’t gone for that long,” you whisper, brushing his tears away.

“You were gone for hours. I just wanted to sleep in with you.” Wednesday whispers back, cuddling into your hands as they cup his cheeks.

You’re overcome with guilt–you should’ve known better than to leave Wednesday when he was in a mood like this. He would never have done the same to you. “I’m so sorry, baby. Would it be ok if we cuddled now? And I swear we can sleep in tomorrow. No getting up or anything.”

“Ok,” he sniffles, and you guide him upstairs to do just that. The trip is slow, Wednesday grasping your hand or side-hugging you every so often. When you do make it into the bedroom, it’s a straight trip down onto the bed and under the covers before you’re once again wrapped in his embrace.

“Better?” You ask, snuggling into his warmth.

“Much,” he responds. He’s not lying–all day, it’s been a fight to stay awake and keep the tears at bay because of your absence. When you returned, it was like a breath of fresh air, and now that you’re in his arms, it’s only gotten better.

“I got you something from the stores today,” you murmur. His eyes flit open, heavily lidded from sleepiness.

“You didn’t need to.” Wednesday says. “Your presence is more than enough of a gift.”

You blush and cover his mouth with your hand. Right now is not the time to swoon.

“It’s an early birthday gift, and because I’m sorry I left you all day today.” He shakes his head as if in disagreement, that your absence didn't actually affect him that much. But you keep going.

“I saw a typewriter in that antique store on main street, and the woman said it was in almost-perfect condition. I had heard you complaining to your parents about the one we have in the study right now, so I figured, why not?” His eyes widen as you go on, and you worry you’ve done something wrong. But when he pulls your hand away and kisses you with a new fervor, you relax.

“Thank you, cara mia. Oh, I’ve needed a new one for months now.” Wednesday rotates between giving praise and kissing you all over, not stopping until you’re both laughing softly.

You notice his movements slowing as sleep tries to take over, so you decide to leave him with one last remark before you both fall asleep.

“I also may have visited that shop next to it, the one with those…designs…that you liked.” Designs, as in lingerie that looked as if it was made from mere scraps of fabric.

Wednesday’s eyes shoot wide open, sleep long forgotten.

#male!wednesday addams x reader #male!wednesday #male!wednesday addams #the addams family #the addams family x you #wednesday addams #requests #requests open #wednesday addams x reader #male wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you

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dipperscavern · 6 months ago

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breathless and whiny robb u say?? 🫣🫣🧐🧐 can I then add that the first time he was dommed by r he absolutely loses his SHIT bc omg omg dying dead HUH!? especially if he’s so used to being the dom in the relationship the moment his girl switches it up on him he short circuits

BREATHLESS AND WHINY ROBB I SAID. I APOLOGIZE THIS IS ABSOLUTELY LEWD (thank you sm for this ily)

it’s not uncommon for you and robb to have to spend time apart. as children at winterfell, robb was often busy being prepared to be lord of it and all its people. back when the realm wasn’t in shambles, robb would study on politics, and sit in with his father on his duties. you didn’t mind, you knew you couldn’t have him all to yourself. you preferred to spend your time checking in on the other starklings, practicing your skills, and you were silently grateful to have a bit more leisurely time than he did.

but during war it was so, so much worse.

as robb’s lady, you went everywhere with him. but you usually didn’t participate in battles, and sometimes, things were so dangerous robb didn’t even feel safe taking you with him. you can be away from each other for weeks at a time, and you spend it praying he’ll return to you. it’s common for men at war to have other women warm their beds, but robb’s bed stays cold, no matter how long you’re apart. he would never betray you like that.

spending so much time apart sometimes makes him desperate. not just to be reunited, but to feel you. to be sheathed deep inside you, your hands pulling him closer & his roaming your body — to feel your lips on his again. and when he finally makes his way back to you, he can barely contain himself.

his hips roll, and he savors the feeling. his hand is intertwined with yours, and his other caresses the soft flesh of your hip. it’s been so long, and he never wishes to leave your warmth. his head drops to your shoulder as he slides himself fully in, and his brain malfunctions. you’re tight, wet, and warm — and it has his brows pinching, mouth falling open to let out a breathless whine. he can’t remember the last time he’s ever made a noise like that (never), but he can’t find it in himself to care. your nails are lightly scratching at his back, and pain mixes with pleasure in a way that makes him grit his teeth.

you love when he’s like this. breathless and losing control, losing himself in the pleasure you’re giving him. he’s taking, taking, taking — and so giving at the same time.

afterwards, when you both lay spent after sharing each others bodies, the moment replays in your mind. you want to make him sound like that again. again and again and again. that’s when an idea forms in your mind.

robb had agreed to trying out your idea, so here you both are. your thighs spread to accommodate his length, legs over his waist as you straddle him. it’s a different angle, a different feeling, and he’s patient in giving you time to adjust. you give an experimental roll of your hips, and his grip on them tightens. he’s not trying to stop you, he just didn’t expect it to feel so good. you gauge his reaction, raising an eyebrow at the single movement having him sharply inhale.

feeling more confident, you begin to move. you take it slower, trying to find movements that feel good for the both of you. robb is not complaining at your experimenting, head lolling back at every movement. eventually, you bring yourself up, and then down again. it has your eyes fluttering shut & robb gritting his teeth, and you silently relish in your triumph. you begin to move, setting a pace that has his grip on your hips tightening & you clenching around him.

robb doesn’t know if he can handle it. the view of you moving up and down on his cock, the way your tits move with your ministrations — the way you feel so good. and the pretty noises you’re making have his brain turning to mush, knocking the air out of his lungs. what have you done to him?

“Feel alright, Robb?”

your voice brings him back to reality (only for a second), and he nods his head. you’ve almost rendered his ability to speak.

“Don’t- mm! Don’t stop.”

you smile, enjoying the view. robb’s brows pinched (more than usual), mouth falling slack as breathless whines & moans spill from his lips. one of your hands comes to rest over where his own is on your hips in an attempt to ground him, as he’s done for you so many times. it works as well as it can with you continuing your pace, having him sharply inhaling as a groan rises from his throat. he’s distant, completely lost in the throes of pleasure. and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

it doesn’t take long before you feel the familiar warmth begin to pool in your abdomen, the angle hitting you just right. when robb brings his thumb to rub circles on your clit, it has the tight cord in your belly snapping, waves of pleasure crawling up your spine as you cum. you continue your movements, only slowing down to ride out the aftershocks. robb isn’t far behind, and when you involuntarily clench down on him, he spills into you with a groan of your name.

you look at robb, catching your breath, and smile once more. you think you’ll have to see him like this more often.

#game of thrones #robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb stark prompt #robb stark imagine #robb stark x you #dippys asks #i lowkey don’t like this but HEY #WE PERSERVERE #anyways #i breathe for robb stark

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angelbaby-fics · 1 year ago

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Daddy stucky x little reader x little Peter where the reader is in a very young headspace and took a nap but when she woke up she was all alone in the bed and want to be with her daddies and Peter so she try to crawl off the bed but fell and hurt herself and daddy rushed in the room seeing little one crying and after he ask why she crawl off the bed she's like "I wan be wif daddies n pweti"

MUCH COMFORT PLEASE 🥺💞

Comfort

Word Count: 800

A/N: Ahh what a precious idea!! I really really love the big brother Peter dynamic hehe 💕 also this fic is so me bc every time I wake up my first thoughts before I get my bearings are usually "wheres dadaaaa" 💕 enjoy!

It was typical for you to regress even smaller during the course of your afternoon nap, usually leading to a wonderfully cozy evening. After a day of playing, Bucky would put you down in your crib with the lights dimmed to replenish your energy while Steve cooked the family meal. Peter was always a bit older than you, so his afternoon nap was optional. Today he opted to help out Daddy in the kitchen while you slept.

Bucky returned from your nursery to see his two best boys working hard in the kitchen. Peter was dutifully stirring a big bowl of ingredients while Steve carefully cut vegetables and dropped them into the mix. Bucky made absolutely sure they didn’t need any extra help before he retreated to the living room to put on a record. Soft jazz music filled the house, and Bucky picked a book to pass the time before supper was ready. Settling into a soft armchair, one where the kitchen was still within view, he started to lose himself in the peaceful moment, the ambiance only interrupted with the turning of each page.

Until he heard the thud.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep. You weren’t sure what was dream and what was real. You were stuck in a prison cell, your family on the other side. You reached out for them, desperate arms restrained by the bars. When you opened your eyes, the bars were real.

You caught your breath slowly as you took in your surroundings. It was just a dream. You told yourself that over and over again like a meditation, but it didn’t make it any more believable to your babified brain. You had to see for yourself that your family was still there. You needed to feel your Baba’s strong arms hold you against his chest, to hear Daddy’s soft voice humming a lullaby as he played with your hair, to stretch out your hand and immediately have it met with Peter’s, reassuring you that your big sibby was always there.

But you were so, so tiny. You could hardly balance on two legs, gripping tight to the railing of your crib as you tried to hold yourself up. Falling back onto your hands and knees, you gathered up all your stuffies and piled them all into one corner, forming a makeshift ramp. Scurrying up like a squirrel on a tree trunk, you pulled yourself over the top rail, but you hadn’t planned this far ahead. You fell to the carpeted floor, right on your padded bottom.

Bucky was pushing through the doorway before you even had time to cry. He picked you up and held you tight against him, softly bouncing you up and down as he patted your back.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.” He whispered with his rumbly voice. “Shhh…”

You grabbed him tightly, his clutch pulling you back from the verge of tears. You took fistfuls of his soft t-shirt in your hands, the fabric more comforting to you than any blankie.

“What got you all worked up huh? Bad dream?” Without moving much, you nodded into his chest. You didn’t have the energy to tell him about it, but as usual you didn’t need to. Bucky had a way of reading your little mind.

“How about we go cuddle out in the living room, okay babydoll?” “‘N daddy ‘n Petie?” You mumbled in your little baby way that your Baba could always understand.

You could hear their voices as Bucky carried you out of your nursery and into the main foyer.

“Is that my baby?” Peter asked.

The excitement evident in his voice at the thought of getting to see his best playmate again. It had only been a little more than an hour that you’d been asleep, but he loved you that much. Your head perked up at that, and your bleary eyes blinked to see Steve carrying Peter out of the kitchen, mirroring you and Bucky as you met at the living room couch.

“There’s still a few minutes on the timer for dinner.” Steve said. “Does anybody know what we could possibly do to pass the time?”

“Cuddles please please please!!” Peter cheered, and you clapped in agreement.

“What a great idea! What smart babies we have, don’t we Buck?”

“I think we might have the smartest, cutest babies in the whole wide world!”

Each man sat on the couch with their respective babies in their arms, but as soon as they were seated, you and Peter started crawling all over each of them, lapping up as much love as you could before the oven timer went off. Even when it did, you weren’t too disappointed; you knew once supper was over you’d be right back to cuddling your family again.

#little!reader #stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #daddy!bucky #bucky x little!reader #daddy!steve #stucky x little!peter #steve x little!reader #steve rogers x little!reader #marvel agere #agere fic #little!peter x little!reader #chloe's fic

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 8 months ago

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umm how dark are u willing to go? I'm thinking abt turning to a life of prostitution and the ghoul being your first ever client and he's not very gentle about it, (plus you're scared bc he's a ghoul ffs) in fact he's very smug bc he's the first client, probably buys you for the night :) mwah xoxo

Working Girl

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Sex Worker Female Reader

Word Count: 5,411

Warnings: smut (18+), sex for pay, rough sex, knife play, cannibalistic threats (he's joking...kinda), spitting, hair pulling, humiliation, rope play, dacryphilia, face and throat fucking, cum facial, some dubcon elements, soft-ish ending (I cannot help myself).

Notes: My answer to that question is "darker than this", anon. I suppose I should probably put together some sort of "wills-and-wonts" pinned post, though, honestly, there aren't many of the latter. With smut and romance content, I think it's important to keep an open mind and broaden your horizons. We are cool with sex work and sex workers in this house, by the way.

I had to let this one stew a bit to decide what direction I wanted to go with it. I'm obsessed with the idea of Cooper menacing around in New Vegas, so I hope you're alright with that. I am also obsessed with the outfits the sex workers outside the casinos wear. I went a little crazy with the length on this one, but I'm super happy with how it turned out. Hope you like it! XOXO

The uniform you'd been given for your new job was absolutely humiliating.

Sure, you looked...nice. They'd fed you, for once you'd had plenty of water, got the first chance to bathe that you'd had in weeks, maybe months. You'd even been able to wash your hair, a rare, rare thing that still had you trying to smell the silky strands as they blew by your face. Initially, you'd felt quite confident, actually; the cropped top even had sleeves, the tight black skirt and heels making your legs look quite nice, even if they were uncomfortable to walk and stand in.

However, your confidence had diminished a bit when they'd given you the black leather collar to wear around your neck, reducing to basically zero when you actually stepped outside to begin your work.

Okay, you had technically done this before, traded sex for medicine or repair work or a place to stay. Honestly, at this point, you thought you'd had more sex for trade than sex for pleasure, the latter hard to come by for someone as picky about actual dating as you. But it felt like one thing to have someone offer it in the moment, when you were truly desperate and a spur-of-the-moment decision was distastefully easy to make. This, standing along the New Vegas Strip and advertising yourself for it, felt like another. A late evening breeze blew across the road, stirring up some dust and making you shiver.

If you were honest with yourself, you got off easy. You weren't sure what the guys and girls with the chains around their bodies and their nipples exposed had done, right or wrong, to earn that uniform, but you weren't eager to find out.

There was a man across the way, leaning against the wall in the shadows outside the tram station, a lit cigarette hanging loosely from his hand. You couldn't see his face, obscured by a dingy, wide-brimmed cowboy hat, his figure hidden as well by a long, dark duster that was incredibly ratty at the ends. He'd been there a while; you weren't sure how long, but you were fairly certain he'd been checking you out. His smokes were lasting an awfully long time.

You'd been told that oftentimes johns were too nervous to initiate the transaction themselves, that you needed to be fun and flirty and try to hook them in yourself if you wanted any business. It didn't help that you, too, were nervous to initiate, but you wanted this to work out, at least for now, and no one else had been interested so far.

"Hey there, handsome. Are you looking to party?" you called out to him, waving as playfully as possible.

That got him, the burning red cherry at the end of his smoke glowing brightly for a few seconds before he tossed it to the ground, exhaling a big cloud of smoke as he stubbed it out with the toe of his boot.

"Handsome, huh? It's been a hot, hot minute since anyone called me that, darlin'." he drawled, his voice actually quite nice. His footsteps gave off a funny little jingle you couldn't place, and you calmly took him in as he approached. But then he came close enough that you could see his face, see the pits and the sunken eye sockets and the gaping hole in the middle of his face where a nose was supposed to be.

A ghoul. Holy shit, he was a ghoul.

Now, you didn't have anything against ghouls, per se, not like some people certainly seemed to. You didn't like the idea of anyone being barred from towns and outposts or harassed just because of what they were, to no fault of their own. You still gave pause at the idea of sleeping with one. Couldn't it make you sick? Didn't some ghouls eat people? Or was that just the feral ones? No, that was stupid. There were people who ate people in this world. Of course a ghoul could possibly eat you.

"Busy the rest of the night?" he asked as if it were automatically the response he'd receive.

You tried your best to giggle playfully, desperate to no longer have to stand outside and solicit for a while, even if it meant your first trick was a doozy.

"Not if you've got the caps." you replied, clenching your shaking hands behind your back.

"Oh, I've got 'em, sweetheart. So." he asked, looking you blatantly up and down. "Are we gonna party or what?"

The two of you made your way into the casino, the bright lights throwing intriguing shadows across your new friend's gaunt face. You left him at the front desk and told him where could meet you after he relinquished all of his weapons, including the big gun strapped to his back. You'd be happy to see that go.

After you left him, you went to the back to check in and described the john you were going back with. When you said he was a ghoul, you expected some sort of reaction or concern, but all the older woman behind the counter did was produce a Rad-X from a half-empty bottle and push it across the counter at you along with a room key.

"Room three. He paid for the night." she said flatly, barely looking your way. "You're gonna wanna take that now, not later."

You picked it up and turned to walk towards the back rooms where the dates happened. You were a little floored he'd paid for that much time; you'd been anticipating an hour, maybe two. But all night? Did turning into a ghoul give you some sort of super stamina? Or did he have other plans for you?

As you passed by the doorway to the gambling floor, you could see him still standing at the counter emptying his pockets.

Just how many weapons did one person need?

Hesitating a moment, you waited to catch his eye, holding up your hand and flashing him three fingers. He gave you a slight nod, and you continued on, unlocking the third door down the adjacent, isolated hall. The rooms weren't much but the basics; a dingy but functional bed, a chair and side table with a jug of water and a few glasses in the corner. A lamp with a stained shade. A clock to keep track of the time. That was about it. You poured yourself a small glass of water from the jug and swallowed the Rad-X down, a bitter taste coating the inside of your mouth. Pulling a face, you took a fidgety seat at the foot of the bed to wait for your companion for the night to arrive, leaving your uncomfortable heels on.

Don't take off the shoes before the john gets in there, you'd been told. Some guys like to take everything off themselves.

You were pulled from your ruminations by the sound of the door creaking open, making you startle ever-so-slightly as he entered.

The people at the front desk had almost certainly offered to take his hat and coat, but it seemed he had declined. Maybe he had some particular personal attachment to them, you thought as he shucked the dirty duster, hanging it by the door. The hat remained on as he turned and appraised you, sitting straight on the bed, your hands daintily in your lap. He still wore a few layers, but you took comfort in knowing that he'd had his pockets emptied. They'd let him keep the lasso he'd been wearing, though, and you eyed it cautiously as it hung from his hip.

The ghoul didn't say anything to you as he crossed the room, pouring himself a tall glass of water and sitting in the chair, drinking it down as he stared at you. That sent you squirming ever so slightly, uncertain of how you were supposed to react.

"So, how long have you been in town?" you asked, eager to fill the silence. He didn't answer for an unsettlingly long time, finishing the first glass of water and pouring another.

"Long enough. Just blowing through." he replied, brim over his eyes and glass over his mouth.

"Ah." you responded, unsure what else to say to that. Things were quiet again for a long time, several minutes passing as you watched him dig an inhaler out of his pocket and take a long drag. You weren't sure what it was; you'd recognize a Jet container. Lots of people used it.

"I was surprised you wanted me for the whole night." you confessed.

"That right?" he responded. "Not in this line of work long, eh?"

"Oh. Uh, I guess." you replied, taken aback by that. "It's just that all night's a long time."

You were trying to make your voice as sweet and seductive as possible, despite the tingle of worry creeping up your spine.

"It sure is." he replied, a glint in his eye that you couldn't read. It frightened you a little, but you told yourself you were overreacting. Another few minutes passed by, another puff of the inhaler, before he raised his hand, still wearing those thick gloves, and beckoned you over. You stood, somewhat shakily walked over to stand in front of him as he sat reclined in the chair, and waited for him to direct you.

"Alright," he said, voice calm as ever as he suddenly produced a long, slender blade from...somewhere. "let's get that outfit off."

This, of course, sent you screaming, turning quickly to flee towards the door. However, he quickly appeared behind you, a hand moving to cover your mouth with one of those filthy gloves as he yanked you back into his chest, making you stumble in those awful shoes. The smell of leather and gunpowder washed over you.

"Jesus Christ." he said, mild annoyance in his tone as he held you almost effortlessly with the one arm. "If you're already screamin' like this when we ain't even had any fun, maybe you ain't cut out for this, baby doll. Never seen a knife before?"

Your hollering choked down into a little cry as the strange-smelling glove muffled you, as you took in what he said. You desperately didn't want to fuck up this job on your literal first night, didn't want to lose a chance to have some stability, a roof over your head. But you couldn't stop the way your brain screamed at you to run. He brought the blade back up to your eye level, turning it to and fro, as if to show it off to you, the small silver blade glinting dangerously in the lamplight.

"You aren't supposed to have that." you whimpered between his fingers, trembling.

"Lotsa people do things they aren't supposed to in this world." was his reply as he slid the blade directly between your breasts, slicing through the crop top from hem to collar. You swore you felt the blade swipe your skin, and it made you gasp in fear, but when you looked, the skin was untouched.

His hands made quick work of the button and zipper of your skirt, dropping it around you feet and leaving you standing before him in nothing but your underwear and your uncomfortable shoes, your heart clamoring in your rib cage.

Looking you up and down once more, he stepped back and took in the whole scene before slinking back down into the chair in the corner, his hands moving down to undo his own belt and fly. He paused, however, to invite you forward again, urging you to close the few foot distance between you. You moved as instructed, still shaken as you stood a foot or so in front of him.

"Kneel."

Carefully, you lowered yourself down onto the scuffed old floor, cool against your bare knees as you looked up at him.

From this angle, it was much easier to see his whole face, including his eyes, and they were gorgeous. You hadn't noticed before, between the nerves and the hat, that they were like pools of dark honey. They distracted you so much that you missed him actually tugging his cock free. When you looked down at it, you were pleasantly surprised at how normal it looked, save for the radiation-roughened texture of the skin. Save for that, all the normal parts were there in normal quantities. You let out a very soft sigh of relief.

"Well, go on." he said, brandishing the thing at you like a weapon. "If you're gonna be a whore, you gotta act like one."

You could feel yourself pouting at his statement, and you hated it, hated the way his words rang through your brain, but you felt some ease at finally getting into something you had experience with, at least. Promptly crawling forward the last foot or so, you let yourself sit a tad more comfortably, leaning forward and reaching out to wrap your fingers around him.

"Uh-uh." he corrected, stopping you in your tracks. "If you're any good at it, you shouldn't need your hands."

This gave you some pause, scanning him over as your palms came to rest on the bit of exposed chair between his legs. Slowly, you leaned forward and dragged your tongue along the underside of his erection, sending it twitching at the contact. The man sitting before you hummed in approval, fully reclining against the back of the chair to watch you closely as you cocked your head somewhat awkwardly to allow your lips to wrap around the tip. He tasted differently than you were accustomed to, you thought as you began to let your head bob up and down on the first few inches of him, your tongue running along the leaking slit; there was an almost metallic aftertaste to him, like licking a cap.

"There you go." he praised lowly as you slid down to take as much of him as you comfortably could, his right hand coming to softly fist in your hair. The movement made you vaguely suspicious, and rightly so, as a few moments later, his other hand joined the first, and together they held your head in place, his hips pistoning up to fuck your face. You tolerated it well, only gagging at the last few thrusts when it seemed he was trying to push deeper and deeper. When you did, the sensation made him pull your head back, his saliva-coated cock laying against his leather-clad stomach as he appraised you, his eyes largely obscured again, drool all over your lips and chin.

"Let's move over to the bed, shall we?" he said, already standing by the time he finished.

Awkwardly, you attempted to right yourself out of your kneeling posture, but before you could even try, he stooped and grabbed you around the waist, tossing you over his shoulder like you weighed absolutely nothing. He was so strong and it made you blush as an indignant sound left you.

"Hey!" you let out before you could stop yourself. You weren't supposed to complain, but it felt like he was almost antagonizing you.

"Allow me." he replied, shooting you a look over his shoulder.

He dropped you down back onto the foot of the bed rather unceremoniously, your hair falling in your face and eyes; when you moved it away again, the switchblade was back in his hand, and you screamed again, unable to stop yourself.

"Keep it comin', sweetheart. I doubt anyone's rushing in here to help you. Honestly, I think they'd respond quicker if you quit screamin' for too long." he said, mocking.

"Quit scaring me and I'll quit screaming!" you shot back, righting yourself so that you were at least properly sitting upright.

"Boy, you sure do love to run that filthy little cocksucking mouth of yours, don'tcha?" he sneered, grabbing your hair again and yanking you close. "Pretty sure I'm payin' you to put out, not to bitch."

The blade traced back down your cleavage to dig into the waistband of your black bra, quickly slicing through it as well and sending your breasts popping out, the now damaged garment hanging uselessly from your arms. The ghoul insistently urged you down onto your back by your hair, and you followed, your legs dangling over the foot of the bed past your knee. For a moment, he simply looked at you.

"Open your mouth." he demanded, leaning over you.

You did as you were told, the command not unusual, but then he puckered his lips and let a rather large gob of spit fall onto your tongue, sending you gagging and scrambling to sit up.

"Nope. Swallow it." he said, maintaining that painful grip against your scalp, keeping you on your back. "You need to remember where your place is right about now, girlie."

Incensed, you hesitated a moment before forcing yourself to do as he told you. Your face was burning bright red with humiliation. He was still leaning over you, bringing the sharp edge close to your skin again. You steeled yourself, calling his bluff despite how dangerous that felt, trying your best to keep your eyes on his, challenging him as he traced the point across your flesh.

"Such pretty, smooth skin." he muttered, watching your reaction closely. "Looks good enough to slice a piece off and eat..."

As he spoke, he let the sharpened edge dig fully into the side of your breast, and you let out a whimper, your stomach rolling at the feeling, at his words. You were certain he was about to really hurt you.

However, he stopped after a moment, pulling the thing away to reveal nothing more than a thin red dash the length of the blade. A kitten scratch. A joke. You looked to him rather incredulously, and he rolled his eyes, folding the edge back into its handle, showing you that it was fully closed before tossing it across the room, landing with a thud in the chair.

"Since you're so afraid of it." he taunted, putting his hands on your hips to flip you onto your stomach. "Hands and knees. Face down."

A frustrated huff escaped you at this newest little jape as you pulled yourself up into the proper position, watching him out of the corner of your eye, your face buried in the musty mattress. It was hard to focus your vision like this, but you watched him move up towards the head of the bed until you couldn't see him anymore. There was a sound you couldn't put your finger on, quick and quiet, but by the time you could even hazard a guess at what it was, he'd seized your right arm by the wrist and was wrapping the rope he'd been carrying around it, finishing it off with a knot. This was enough for you to risk a quick glimpse in his direction, only to see that he'd used the lasso to tie your arm to the head of the bed. Your heart raced as he gave the knot at the headboard a yank before disappearing behind you, tugging your collar loose and dropping it on the floor.

He left the heels on.

"It's funny that these fancy casinos think all these dirtbags and desert rats'll come in here and just give up every weapon they have willingly. That's not how things work out there, and it's still not how they work in here, no matter how much they pretend it is." he mused, his voice making it seem almost as if he were talking to himself and not you. His still-gloved hand petted at the round globe of your ass.

Now you were annoyed. Why was he fucking with you like this?

"Are you a dirtbag or a desert rat?" you muttered into the sheets, jumping when he suddenly grabbed you by your hair again in response, holding you tight in his grip as he forced you to look at him.

"I'm the first thing, darlin'. It'll be good for you to learn the difference." he said, actually smirking at you, at the pained look on your face as the feeling once more burned in your scalp, one of his hands slowly moving up the back of your thigh to stroke your mound over your underwear. Quickly, he pushed them aside, his longest finger tracing up and down your embarrassingly wet slit, and you bit your lips hard to muffle the moan you wanted to let out.

Soon, he was working that finger inside you, then another, and another, all in quick succession; this wasn't about making you feel good, it was about making sure you could take him properly. You could feel the head of his cock nudging against your bare ass cheek, leaking and throbbing. He was eager, no matter how cool and calm he seemed to be.

"Spread your legs more." he mumbled, knee pushing at your right leg to "help" you open yourself wider for him. You did as much as possible, feeling like you could fall at any moment. However, you tensed again when you felt the tip of him slip through your folds, collecting some of the wetness there before sliding down to press at your entrance. You held your breath.

It burned when he pushed inside, though whether that was because of the rough texture of his skin or because you weren't completely prepared, you didn't know. He didn't give you much time to adjust to his size, simply bracing one knee against the mattress as he began to fuck you. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, his blunt cock head slamming painfully against your cervix.

At one point, he shifted himself higher over you, seeking a way to be deeper inside. The change in angle caused the slick head of his cock to slip out of you for a moment, pressing against your taut asshole for just a split second, but it was enough to make you panic, squirming wildly beneath him. Pure fear shot up your spine. He only laughed sardonically, tugging your hair to make you look over your shoulder at him.

"You're lucky I ain't real mean, sweetheart." he murmured, slamming his cock back into your leaking, sore cunt. The way it hit hard against your already tender cervix made you whimper, but you were glad he didn't do what you'd thought he was gonna do. It was upsetting you that you weren't more upset, frankly. The whole thing made you wanna be sick, especially the part where you were insanely close to orgasm suddenly.

"The funniest part of all this is that you're still gettin' off on it." he called you out as if he could read your mind.

You desperately shook your head, silent tears beginning to run down your cheeks and tickle onto your chin. You weren't enjoying this, weren't enjoying the rough way he was using you. You certainly weren't enjoying those strangely captivating eyes pinning you as he held you down.

"Please." he scolded. "It's one thing to be a whore. It's another thing to be a liar."

That actually managed to draw an embarrassing little sniffle from you; not his taunts, but the fact that you were fluttering so enthusiastically around him at his words. The man on top of you tilted his head again at this, watching you teeter on the edge of something terribly amazing.

"Poor pretty thing." he cooed with fake sympathy, rubbing away an errant tear with his thumb. Your neck ached at the angle he was holding it at. "Open."

You obeyed, and he spat in your mouth again. It actually didn't have much taste, and you swallowed with no complaint, your brain foggy from the rough way he was fucking you. The feeling of humiliation was still there, creeping hot up your back, but it also made you clench hard around him.

"Fuck." he snarled, suddenly pulling back from you, standing beside the bed again, one hand jerking himself as he grabbed you up onto your knees once more, his fist in your hair as he rubbed and slapped his throbbing cock against your face.

"Open your fuckin' mouth." he growled, pushing himself as far back down your throat as he could go as soon as you did, both hands cupping the back of your head as he skull-fucked you with wild abandon. Your hands braced on his hips, your efforts to blunt his thrusts futile. You gagged and choked and drooled as he used your throat; embarrassingly, one of your hands appeared on your swollen, aching clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he began to throb.

"Shit, girlie, you're gonna make me cum." he panted, pulling himself back from you, leaving you sputtering for air as he resumed rubbing his cockhead on your lips and cheeks. His eyes were burning into yours. "Better keep your mouth closed."

You clenched your lips between your teeth just as the first jet of his release hit your cheek, much thicker and hotter than you'd anticipated, another and then another, seemingly an endless amount covering your entire lower face, dribbling from your lips and chin as he groaned and growled his way through it. Your hand was still rubbing furiously between your legs, and he must've noticed, slipping his fingers down in place of yours and rubbing those same circles, his rough touch just what you needed to fall over the edge as well, moaning loudly as your whole body seized.

Everything was eerily quiet and calm as you both let your breathing settle, one hand supporting his weight against the wall by the head of the bed for a moment, his eyes hidden by the hat once more. Surprisingly, he undid the knot at the headboard, then the one around your wrist, tossing the rope down onto the floor next to the bed as he went rummaging around in his pockets. You noticed that he was tucked back away into his pants. Suddenly, a dingy handkerchief was pressed into your palm; it took you a moment to realize that he intended for you to clean the mess from your face with it.

You set to it, the incredibly thick, almost gelatinous substance difficult to wipe away with the thin square of cloth, but you managed to make it happen. Mostly. As you tidied yourself, he pulled the inhaler from one pocket and a rumpled pack of cigarettes from another, taking a puff and jamming a cig between his thin, cracked lips. He paused to hold the pack out to you, and you shook your head.

"You can take a break, kid. We've got all night." he said, lighting the smoke and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

You supposed he was right; you were absolutely exhausted physically after that whole ordeal, and it was his time. If he was alright with you resting some, you'd rest some. Carefully, you crawled up and laid your head on one of the pillows, your side against his back as he sat there, smoking and righting his clothes. In the back of your head, a little bug nagged at you.

"How did you know?" you asked, voice almost timid.

"Hmm?" he replied, his focus seemingly on re-winding the lasso.

"How did you know that, uh, tonight's my first night on the job?"

This got him to turn to you, a mischievous, but not unkind gleam in his gaze.

"I watched you for a while. Just got off the tram when you came outside, wanted a smoke. Noticed you. Couldn't not notice you. You looked like a nervous little bunny out there, just waitin' for a hawk to come and snatch you up."

"So you decided to be the hawk?"

"Yep."

You were both quiet again at this, the perfectly coiled rope now sitting near your feet. Outside, you could hear the clinking of glasses, the drunken laughter of gamblers and bar patrons. Your eyelids were so heavy.

You'd sort of assumed that you would want to cry yourself to sleep after what you'd been through, between the roller coaster of emotions and the general humiliation of it all; oddly enough, you didn't. Instead, you drifted off into a brief, fitful rest, dreaming of disgusting leather gloves and radiation-pillaged skin.

The Strip at twilight was quite the sight, the neon and bright colors washed mute by the early morning hues. It would be nice to stop and admire if you weren't so desperate to get out of town.

As much as you were loathe to admit it, the ghoul you'd been with the night before was right; you absolutely weren't cut out for this. You'd hated every single second of trying to entice people to pay you for sex, the way people had looked and leered at you as they'd gone by. Besides, your employers gave you the impression that they didn't have your best interest at heart. They also gave you the creeps.

And if anyone in the future wanted to go further than he had, you now knew you wouldn't be able to handle it. Though, you'd be lying if you said that you hadn't learned some things about yourself.

An unidentifiable feeling passed over you as you thought of him.

You'd awoken, shocked you'd managed to sleep at all, with quite the start, eyes frantically jumping to the clock to find that only about half an hour had passed. To your genuine surprise, the ghoul was gone, several hours still left in the time he'd paid for. The jug of water on the table was empty. You'd waited dutifully, naked on the bed, for the remainder of his time slot. You'd even kept the heels on. At first, you'd wondered if he'd maybe gone to the bar for a drink. But after another hour passed, you were fairly certain he wasn't coming back. Despite yourself, you were strangely disappointed.

At the end of his paid time, the end of your shift, you checked back in at the desk, collected your pay, and immediately went upstairs to collect your things.

Your meager possessions were few enough to fit into a little drawstring; you'd cast a quick glimpse at the destroyed shirt the man had cut off of you, crumpled on the floor with the rest of your uniform after you'd changed back into your dingy street clothes, before tucking it away into the bag. You weren't sure why. After that, you'd tucked the bag up inside your jacket, calmly walked outside for a "smoke", and kept walking until you made it outside the walls of Freeside, feeling like there were eyes on you the whole way. It was only once you were past the border of the junk fences that you allowed yourself to pause and take a shaky breath.

"You made the right choice." came a familiar drawl from behind you.

The voice startled you, already on edge as you worried about being followed from the casino, sending you freezing in the middle of the decaying road. Through the dusty haze, you could make out his hat and coat, emerging from behind a barricade of concrete, smoke in hand. The big gun was back in its place, slung loosely across his broad shoulders.

"You scared me." you hissed, your hand resting on your flying heart.

He tilted his head at you, those hauntingly beautiful eyes scanning you. He gave a shrug, which was very apparently not an apology.

"Where you headed?" he asked.

"I dunno." you confessed flatly, trying your best to not fidget in place. "Not here."

He took a long, long drag off of his smoke before dropping it into the dirt, stubbing it out with the toe of his boot before looking up at you underneath the brim of that accursed hat. Everything felt very familiar, all of the sudden. Another transaction waiting to happen.

"Quite the coincidence. I'm also headed 'not here'." he replied, quietly assessing you as he leaned against the barricade, lighting another cig.

You hesitated for a moment before responding, considering some things. But eventually, you replied, tone teasing:

"Looking for some company, are you?"

He smirked at you, smoldering cigarette hanging loosely between those vicious teeth.

"Sure am. Interested?"

You crossed the rest of the way over to him, standing close. The smell of leather and gunpowder washed over you once more.

"If you've got the caps, handsome."

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