#carrie white fluff

[nimbusslasher]

Slashember Day 1 - Carrie White x Fem!Reader - Halloween Party Fluff

Pairing: Carrie White x Feminine Reader WC: 978(ALMOST 1K!! WOOO!!) Type: Fluff Fandom: Slashers, Carrie (1976) Contains: Pet Names (Carrie - Care Bear or Babe, You - babe, my love, sexy ass), established relationship, speak/reference of social anxiety & panic attacks

A/N: So this was a lot of me being in an amazing mood when I wrote this, most of it was during lectures... gonna be truthful with that. But this was honestly like such a joy to write, I loved it! My little NBLW heart went crazy with this, Pleas enjoy!

"Babe! We're gonna be late!" Carrie called from outside the bathroom. "Just gimme a minute! I'm almost done! I need to get my eyeliner right! We can be fashionably late! It'll look cool!" You said, getting a highly exaggerated dramatic sigh from your girlfriend who was standing outside the door, making you giggle, and fuck up your eyeliner... again.

You threw your head back and loudly whined, it mixing with a groan due to your frustration, very annoyed from the now repeated action of trying to get this right. You were gonna have to ask for help. dammit. "Care Bear, can you come help me please?" You asked, a slight whine in your tone. You heard your girlfriend chuckle outside the door before she turned the knob to the bathroom door, checking to see if you were behind it first before opening it fully.

"Of course, My love." Carrie said lovingly as she gently took the eyeliner pen and makeup wipes from you, gently wiping off your botched attempts at the perfect eyeliner. She gently began to match the other eye with the eyeliner, almost like copying a painting, she would pause and stare at the finished eyeliner for a minute before continuing to use the eyeliner. Her smile was wide as she finished up "So cute, my love, but are you sure you wanna go? I know parties aren't really your scene, and I don't have to go. Save you the anxiety of people?" She asked, looking at you with a concerned expression, you knew it was because she loved you, you found her concern endearing.

"I'll be just fine, Care Bear, please don't worry about me so much, I already do enough of that myself...I wanna go, I don't think I've been to a party in a long long time.." you said, looking at your makeup in the mirror. It was perfect, it always was when Carrie did the eyeliner for you, if someone held a gun to your head and said 'do perfect winged eyeliner' you wouldn't live to tell the tale.

You were a little nervous, but your costume was cute, you had decided on going as Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune. Just making sure the skirts covered at least half of your knees.

"Good, now get your sexy ass in the car!" Carrie said, her worry shaking away, being replaced by a playful mood as she gently pushed on your lower back, pushing you out of the bathroom, walking you downstairs and out the front door, turning around and locking the door after she checked that you had everything, purse, hairbrush, keys, taser- wait what? nothing.

You got into the car, shivering slightly "Damn, It's cold out." you said as your girlfriend slipped into the drivers seat, she took notice of your shiver and turned on the car, flicking on the heat, your shiver almost melting off of you in a way, replaced with a gentle, warm, homey feeling.

Carrie checked if you had your seatbelt on before putting the car into drive and pulling out of the driveway and driving the route she had memorized before you both left the house

Carrie let out a small sigh when you reached the house that was hosting the party, she parked, and turned to you "Are you sure that you wanna do this? We can always turn around and go home and cuddle, chill, eat, watch movies and stuff..." She said, a bit worried about you

"Care Bear! I will be fiiine. I'm okay! please don't worry so much, I just wanna have fun with you, It's halloween! and I'm doing something scary to honor that. Plus, you'll be there with me! I'm not alone, babe, I promise." You said, trying to reassure her "Just.. don't leave me stranded? All I really need to feel comfortable is... you." Your sweet words melted at her worry, she sighed

Carrie decided to let it go, they would have a good time! You two got out of the car, your excitement rose as you spotted some of Carrie's friends outside mingling

Carrie grabbed your hand softly, gently squeezing. She had invited you to come with her, you knew that she was worried you would be overwhelmed with the people, the noise, etc,etc. She didn't want her idea to cause you a panic attack, she would feel terrible and incredibly guilty

Carrie stuck by you the entire time, holding your drink when you weren’t drinking it, when you were in the bathroom, which is when she stood outside the door. Everyone thought your costumes were adorable, which made you very happy

After hours of mingling and eating snacks you went home, getting into the car to instantly be hit with a quick “Did you have fun? are you okay? Did everything go okay?” From Carrie, her words clashing together and smushing like clay as they came out of her mouth.

You turned to her and took her hand in yours “I’m fine, Care Bear. I couldn’t be better. I had so much fun with you tonight. I can’t wait to go home and fall asleep on the couch with you.”

This was enough to assure Carrie, she smiled and kissed the back of your hand softly, taking her key and starting the car to head home

Once you got home you both quickly hopped into some comfortable clothes, cuddling up on the couch in your pjs with some of your favorite snacks and drinks, beginning to watch “halloween” movies, specifically non-gorey ones, as Carrie said that she wants something she’s not constantly paranoid about after

“I love you so much, i’m so glad you had a great time…” Carrie said groggily after a couple hours of watching moves, as she drifted off she pulled you closer, so you turned off the movie and fell asleep too

wowww wow wow wowzie that was a lot, i literally spent 3 days working this out and fixing stuff bc i am a greedy bitch who likes to do what they want

Sooo tomorrow is Billy Loomis smut! who’s up for it? pls let me know if you’d like to be tagged!!

[dolliestfairy]

𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎 𝐵𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑀𝑎𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛 ཐིiཋྀ ་ ݁٬ ࣪ ،

billy loomis, stu macher, carrie white, and jennifer check falling in love with beautiful!fem!reader ཐི (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ཋྀ

when i said beautiful!fem!reader, i really do meant it. it was you. this time i didnt tell what your size is. skinny, chubby, curvy, whatever, you're beautiful. and yes, reader skin color is not announced.

♫ Warning : mentions of killing in public, bullying, massacre, jennifer think of you as a rival (at first) and maybe some misspelled word, pet names (Muffin, Moon Of My Life, Sweet Cheeks) lmk if i miss anything.

☾ Billy loomis

• first time he had laid his eyes on you he cant help but falling in love immediately.

• how could he not?! you're just so ethereal and beautiful.. too beautiful for this messed up world.

• he really adore the shape of your body. he does not care what your size or what your skin color is. small, medium, large, extra large, white, black, he doesnt care. he still love you.

• if someone talks bad about you, you best believe they're gonna be the next victim and they're gonna popped out in the news all over the town one week later.

• he also have a petname for you. he sometimes called you "Muffin" but if he's really in the mood or if he's just like being a gentleman for absolute no reason, he's gonna call you "Moon of my Life".

• really adores you. and always determined to keep you as his and his alone. he doesnt like sharing. so this man is kinda possessive over you.

• i mean he doesnt want to lose the Moon of his life so he had to keep you safe. if theres someone that have a plan to keep you away from him, they're gonna be dead in a second, it doesnt matter if he had to killed them in public where everyone could watch him with bare eyes, he's gonna show them what he would and can do if someone dared to take away the Moon of his Life.

☾ Stu Macher

• meet you at a party, in his house, periodt. he was chillin and drunk with his friend on a couch until his eyes snap at one of the gorgeous lady he'd ever seen which is you.

• he fell in love much faster than his buddies, and when fell, he fell HARD. so the second he sees you, he get his ass up the couch and immediately walking towards you, and what you gonna see is that you gonna see some lanky and tall man walking towards you with unconscious face while complimenting you.

• you think he's just drunk so you wouldnt mind him.

• but oh.. you were wrong. the morning where the party was over and he was all sleeping in the couch, after we woke up he kinda blank off a bit, and he sees the mess in his house from the night party. but the second he remembered the party he also remember you, the lovely lady he was compliment on.

• he suddenly feel his cheeks hotter while imagining about you, he can feel his heart fluttering as well so he want to see you again.

• luckily for him, you were actually in the same school with him. and you are practically a new kid.

• he's determined to be your first friend in this school, so he just go straight to you and introduce himself with his goofy attitude.

• he also apologize about the night party about him being so unconscious but he assure you that he can still remember you so thats why he's really determined to have you.

• it didnt take long for him to confess his feelings for you.

• he's over the moon when you accept him. he felt like he was the luckiest guy in the world.

• he promise you and the stars that he would keep you safe and comfortable around him, he would never let anything hurt you. and if it does, then they have to face the horrifying side about Stu Macher.

• and i'm telling you, it is not pleasureable to see it.

☾ Carrie white

• first she met you at the bathroom she thinks she's gonna get bullied from you, but instead, you were asking is she was okay. in which she nodd.

• she sees you walk out of the bathroom after asking her. she cant help but have some weird feelings about you.

• she never see anyone would ask her if she was okay, well not anyone as beautiful as you. so you can say that this girl was confused yet shock by your questioning.

• her romantic feelings start when she was bullied by some cheerleader group. she witnessing the fact that you were protecting her, stood up for her.

• after the bullies left, she look at you and ask why you were helping her in which you replied "do i really need a reason to help innocent people?"

• you were special, says carrie to herself, she cant believe someone as pretty as you would want to protect her from the bullies alone.

• later on at the prom she notice that you were not there at the prom.

• and when the prom hell incident is happening, and after she murder everyone including her mother, her first instinct was to find you.

• she quickly discovered where you live, she knock the bell at your door house and when you open it, you were getting a sudden hug from a crying carrie.

• you notice her bloody appereance so you take her inside and cleaning her. she hug you one more time before going to bed and say "i wouldnt forgive myself if i lose you."

• and you know she really mean it.

☾ Jennifer Check

• first time she met you, she thinks you're gonna be her rival because the amount of beauty you had in you.

• she cant help but feel a little bit of envy at that time (although she would rather die than admitting the fact that she was envy).

• so thats why at first she seems like she dislike you and she does. you at that time notice her disliking towards you so you ask about it to her.

• she just said to you that it doesnt matter and its not important to talk about.

• but her disliking towards you are kind of reduce after you try to explain to her gently that you dont have any bad intention about being her rival or enemy.

• you ask her if you both can be friends in which she rolled her eyes and say "yeah, whatever."

• and after being friends with you, she then know what kind of girl you are and thats where the romantic feelings start appearing.

• she sees your good heart and your strong willing along with your beautiful appereance, and that is making her love you even more.

• until at that time she ask you to go a Mall to shop clothes and stuff, and when you guys on a restaurant, she ask you out on a date

• and this lady was so happy when you accept it. she plans the most beautiful date she could ever imagine in her head.

• and it was going on perfectly. and at that time also she grab your palm hand and said "i really love to have you, sweet cheeks." while smiling at you.

• but one thing is that, she also kind of worry about the fact that she was a succubus. so thats why she tried to play her role as smooth as possible. she needs you to trust her enough that you will be loyal even if you find out that she eats Mankind.

• but overall, beside the bad side of her, she really does love you.

[laiiaaa]

It’s pretty well-established that Carmy is addicted to physical touch and acts of service, but he’s also such a quality time lover. He likes the thought of simply…being with someone, without having to be in panic mode. Just very soft, very slow, very in tune with his lover.

Never on his phone when he’s with you. He never liked it all that much anyway, never really got the whole phone thing, and now it’s practically useless unless you’re the one trying to reach him. The second you’re around it’s like it never existed: he’s captivated by you and you alone, attentive to every word or little facial expression, keen only to his moment with you.

Quiet mornings in bed, faces smushed into the pillow, sunlight spilling through the curtains, even if no words are exchanged. Likes hearing your sleep-ridden voice tell him G’morning, Carmy, before you creep a little closer, into his embrace. Will ask you about your plans for the day while busying his hands with the contours of your face, brushing by your jaw and cheekbone, content with the peace and never getting bored of it.

Early walks at dawn through crisp autumn air, listening to you talk about whatever comes to mind as he leads the way, humming along to your story. Waits for you to comment on how chilly it is, or how nice the breeze feels, like it’s the most profound thing you could ever say. You’ll tell him how beautiful the sunrise is that morning and without thinking he’ll let out a deep breath and say I know—and he’ll only be looking at you.

Visiting a flea market, or a thrift shop, or a bookstore, or a cafe, or anything you ask him to, trailing close behind. He peruses at your pace and pays closer attention to the things you look at a little longer. Hushed whispers over your shoulder as he leans in close, looking into your eyes as you speak sweetly:

What do you think about this for the living room?

I like it, baby, anything you like.

Spending his lunch breaks together, whether it’s him coming home for an hour or you stopping by the restaurant.

Grocery shopping together to get as much time with one another as you can.

A lazy day off sat next to each other on the couch, your legs in his lap with his hands smoothing up and down your thighs; catching up on the details missed throughout the week, quiet and gentle laughter slipping by.

Or another, a date night in, record playing and a steak cooking in the cast iron, you glued to his side or on the counter just the same. Coaxing Carmy into a slow dance once the meal is finished—though coaxing might not be too accurate, because he’s awfully willing when it comes to you. Your arms looped around his neck, his comfortable at your waist and hips, swaying in the kitchen.

Thank you for dinner, Carmy.

‘F course, baby, with a gentle kiss, and you know he’s really saying I love you.

And he’ll say it again and again, with subtle methods, because every moment with you is exactly what he needs.

[kittyamore0]

Slashers with a Vampire S/O:

[PART II]

CW: Biting, marking, breaking of skin, blood, slightly dom, immortal, GN! reader, blood kink and drinking blood

LITTLE NOTE I: Im in a slightly good mood and i wanted to write another character even though they aren't a slasher, but as a bonus!

LITTLE NOTE II: I've been up since 3AM working on this and then other things. Its currently 9AM and im having crucial back pain

BONUS: extra character

EXTRA CHARACTER: Violet Harmon

MAIN CHARACTERS: Stu Macher + Billy Loomis, Carrie White, Freddy Kruger, Tate Langdon, Bubba sawyer, GENRE: Headcanons

Fandom: Horror

STU MACHER + BILLY LOOMIS

Stu wouldn't believe you at first.

Billy tends to stalk you from time to time, so i think he would know

You also know that your loving, killer boyfriend stalks you

So you also know that he knew.

"Uh, Sweetie, you do realize its not Halloween yet, right?"

You scoffed and flashed your fangs at Stu and Billy

"Might be fake-"

"Bitch, please!"

Stu playfully rolled his eyes and smiled

Suddenly, you ran past him

But way too quickly

"Wait-- What the fuck?--"

Billy just snickered at him

"What are you laughing about?"

Stu narrowed his eyes

"Ive been knowing, you fuck-rag."

Stu did in fact realize you were not lying.

"And you didn't tell me?!"

"They just did,"

"You--"

"Enough."

Stu kept whining the whole week after that

He would ask stupid questions

Like Tif, he would watch Vamp movies with you

He will let you bite him just to feel how it feels

Sometimes it'll go well with Stu, sometimes it wont...

He needs like 20 years to recover from that bite

And other times, he feels like hes floating

"I feel high! Is this what you felt when they bit you, Bil?"

"No, i felt horny."

...

"Wait, wha--"

Now, with Billy

He loved it when you bit him

He has a major blood kink

You marking him, blood seeping down his neck as you drink from him.

He also loves looking into your crimson eyes

He thinks your eyes are really pretty, but he wont admit that

Maybe if you manage to bribe him

He does know that he can actually die if he lets you drink as much blood, so it only happens once awhile

He will bring you back some victims as ghostface though!

Be prepared for loving phone calls from your loving boyfriends telling you how much people they've killed

CARRIE WHITE

She did believe you, but it took her some time to process stuff

I mean, she's got powers. Why wouldn't she believe you?

She sometimes thinks about how her mom would react

Her mom would be absolutely pissed

But she doesn't care

she's not letting you go anytime soon

And she doesn't plan too

You don't drink from her because her body is already fragile enough

She never brought up that idea either

I mean, she has thought about it, but she knows that you would refuse instantly due to both her physical and mental health

She would let you drink from her, if it meant saving you in some kind of way

She doesn't ask too many questions about it and treats you like any normal person, but with extra and special attention since you're her S/O!

When shes upset, her powers get out of control and she has flung knives at you...maybe more than one.

But she really didn't mean to!

She can't control it!

She freaks out when one of the knives at you, dropping her upset mood

Then you have to reassure her that you're immortal, so it wont affect you as much

"Carrie, sweetie, im okay--"

"I-it wa-was in your th-throat!"

"Again, not like im dying--"

She was so upset the first time it happened

She tried running away and locking herself inside her room, but you were much stronger than her, so you held her close until she was calm

"Shh...its okay, its okay."

"i--im-im sorry, im sorry..."

Poor baby :(

But you will pamper her after shes calm down

:)

FREDDY KRUGER

Hes gonna believe you, since you know, hes a dead, burned, sleep demon--

But he wants proof

Crimson eyes or bright changing eye colors? check.

Sharp fangs that can hide themselves? Check.

Blood lust?

You tried biting him the first time you guys met and he caught you eating more than one person in your dreams.

So yea, Check.

He makes dirty jokes about your powers

Speed?

He'll say something along the lines of..."Well, lets see your pace in the bedroom--"

You start fist fighting him every time he does say something like that

But sometimes you'll play along with his little flirting game

And the second you do, theres a thick lump in those worn out pants of his

The next thing you know, you wake up naked

Oh, and because of that supernatural crazy stuff,

You find a way to see the demon through the day instead of night now!

Through spells though

But as long as you're seeing him!

TATE LANGDON

Hes known way before you've met him, and thats because hes known you longer than you've known he existed

When he did reveal himself, like his true self, which is being dead, you realized about him knowing about your little secret

And the other ghost in the house

yay.

I mean, you were planning to tell your boyfriend Tate that you were a Vamp, but he knew

So that spares you the explanation and proving

You were just glad he knew

Tate, i feel like when he tells you that he knows, he'll compliment you.

How he loved the way your eyes would change color

How he loved your powers

And how he loved you, most of all, all of you.

All the confessing would definitely lead to a passion make out, and maybe even further

And dont tell me 'no'. This shit would be like a telenovela, but it got to the part that they are confessing

And im listening to 'or nah' by The Weeknd right now, it's a sign.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He would treat you like his normal S/O, not caring about the fact you are a human-blood-drinking creature.

He would suggest you be a vampire for Halloween, since you know, you're already one...

"Haha, so funny. I'm not gonna wear those weird human versions of vampire cloaks!"

"C'mon, it'll be funny!"

"Okay, how about this; You wear those ghost costumes, the ones where theres just holes where the eyes are and ill dress in one of those weird vampire cloaks."

"No, not in a million years!"

"It's either we wait a million years then, or you wont ever get to see me in that vampire cloak~"

"Okay, you win!"

"So, deal then?"

"Deal."

Whenever you have your blood lust, he'll offer up his cold flesh for you to bite through and let his bitter sweet blood soak out

But in the end, you can't.

Dead blood in fact makes Vampires very ill

And though it saddens him that he cant help you, he'll understand.

He wont let you drink his blood.

No matter how much pain you're in.

He can't risk putting you in even more pain

So he mostly goes invisible when you have your blood lust

And he waits in the corner of your room for you to come back from hunting your meal

Calm cuddles after your blood lust while listening to Nirvana

He absolutely loves that you are immortal

You can stay with him, forever.

Forever and ever. With him, and only him.

VIOLET HARMON -- THE BONUS

Violet has also known, like Tate because she has been watching you.

You also knew she was a ghost in the house from the day she came up to you

How? When words about the infamous 'murder house' were being spread, so did the word Violet

And you might of seen a picture or two of her when people would talk about the murder house

She kinda has no choice either

She also was really interested in you when you moved into the house

She was obviously shocked when she found out you were a vampire

She did not expect that at all

I mean, she grew up knowing that vampires didn't exist

And yet, here you are

before you guys started dating she was the classic-

sorta stare and not talk

Only because you're a vampire and she doesn't wanna trigger anything--

Okay...shes was nervous.

She has a literal crush on a hot vampire who is living in the house she died in!

okay, the 'died in' part is uh, just not needed

And she did really want to talk to you, she just needed a push

Tate.

"Okay, Vi, you got this..."

She took a deep breath

"shit, never mind. i don't got this--"

"You do."

She yelped when the familiar voice had appeared from behind her.

"Tate...?"

"yea, sorry. I just wanted to say that, uh, you should go for it. Its now or never. They might be a inmortal , but they wont stay here for long without, um, value? So, uh, go for it."

He flashes Violet a small smile before walking way

"Thanks..." She mumbled and continued to stare at your figure

fuck it.

"Uh, h-hi,"

Her heart felt like it was about to pop tf out her chest

Wait, it dont beat no more.

But still felt like it

You felt like you were trippin'

Are you actually talking to a cute, dead girl right now?

Yes. Yes you were.

"Hi, Violet."

She froze up.

How the hell.

Did one of the ghosts tell you?

What.

"How did you--"

"Oh, it was easy. A lot of people talk about this house, and you."

oh, right.

Well, shit.

"What, cat got your tongue?"

Yes.

"N--no, im fine--"

You just chuckled at her

Why in the hell were you so calm???

"Do you wanna talk a little? im sure you didn't call me just to call me."

"Yes! i mean--sure!"

You guys hung out the rest of the night and it was amazing.

She found out things about you

You found out things about her

A win-win!

She'd hate when you have your blood lust

Because 1. You're scary as hell

2. She hates seeing you in pain

3. There's no blood available for you in the house because its all dead blood, we dont want you to be sick

4. She hates waiting long for you to come home

Long naps with you after you got back from hunting

BUBBA SAWYER

You told Bubba from the start of the relationship!

I mean, why not tell your cannibal boyfriend that you, are in fact, a blood thirsty vampire

At first, he was confused

A vampire in texas...?

A real, REAL vampire.

Complusion to make him less confused

Oh, now he gets it!

Wonder why...

He'll still love you

Vampire or not

constant babbling about how he loves your crimson eyes

HATES it when you have your blood lust

He hates seeing you in pain

Tries feeding you his victims

Gets even more upset when you tell him you can't have dead blood

Hes on his way to find some more victims

You can count on him!

He'll come back with 2-5 victims

Maybe even more if there was some event going on nearby

He'll sit you on his lap and cuddle with you till' you feel better

He coos at you but you have absolutely no idea on what he's saying!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶ ✦　　

[binah-beloved]

Binah manifesting her ego against Zena, knowing she's protecting you?

Binah's E.G.O. is elegant and covered with feathers and eyes, much like a potential Distortion that's been smoothed out and repaired at the corners into a completed story. she knows exactly what she's doing, too, her lips curling into her signature smug smile when she holds up her arm to defend you. yet her eyes are sharp, filled with none of the humor her smile suggests, none of the mockery that her coworkers are used to as the feathers of her newly formed wings rustle and sharpen into small obsidian blades

in the corner of her vision she glimpses Roland slowly backing away from her. no matter. he's not important right now

she approaches you, once the Library is safely thrown and locked away. the several eyes hidden between her feathers blink, the ruffling of her wings betraying her attempts to seem nonchalant. you gaze at her in awe, and Binah allows you to run your hands over her new features, every eye closing as she subtly leans against your fingers. perhaps once she would've regarded E.G.O. as no more than a useful tool, but seeing how delighted you are as well as how her feathers and eyes react... maybe she'll use it more often. just for practice, of course

[carriewhitesgf]

🕸 dating

carrie white

[2002] headcanons

☆ carrie white definitely smells like a mix of 'fresh laundry' scent and myrrh and rosemary incense.

☆ carrie doesn't like being touched but once she feels safe with you she won't stop holding your hand. her hands are always so cold and the warmth and grip of your hand make her feel so safe.

☆ carrie is always wearing cardigans, always. everytime you hug her you feel the softness of her cotton cardigan and the subtle smell of incense.

☆ she has such a sweet tooth, she's not allowed treats often because of her mother. so whenever you unpack your lunch to eat with carrie, you pretend not to notice the missing oatmeal pie.

☆ showers make carrie uneasy. if your around at her house after she showers, she likes for you to comb her hair and whisper sweet nothings until she's fallen asleep in your lap.

☆ carries favorite thing is to hold and caress your face with both hands.

☆ the first time you two had kissed carrie tasted like cherry chapstick and it drove you wild.

☆ carrie would definitely teach you how to sew or at least attempt too. you made her a long sleeve night gown. She loved it even if you had made the neck line too big and oh my is that a third arm hole?

☆ carrie has definitely burst some light bulbs in the name of defending you.

☆ carrie would do anything to protect you

[nimbusghoul]

i got a genuine question, if i were to do something for november that was like a “slasher-ember” where i write fics and drabbles and brain sploinkz with slashers all the last few weeks of october, all november & december, do you think yall would give me prompts? like if no ones gonna read it ill just post them as i please but… like idk i just wanna write slasher fics and get back into writing fully? but i have a horrible brain and it works against me? pls reblog if you do support this idea bc it would be a huge help to get it like, out there?? if i don’t get enough yeses ill probably drop it or whatever but i thought id put it out there

[misfitcaddie]

The Misfits

Hello, everyone!

Basically, this is just short little story that found its way into my mind while I was trying to study for my last finals season. It’s fluff with angst (I mean this is about Eddie Munson and Carrie White) and I have no idea how I came up with this weird pairing.

It takes place in the Stranger Things season 4 universe, so they’re in Hawkins and the year is 1986. Everything related to Carrie is based on the novel not the films BUT she doesn’t have any special powers (sorry, I’m not that good of a writer), also her mum might be crazy, but not insane like in the book.

Also, my first language is not English and this is my first time writing a fic so if you have any suggestions or corrections feel free to leave a comment, I’m willing to learn :)

You can also read it in ao3 (link)

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summary: When Carrie experiences the worst night of her life all she wants to do is disappear but when Eddie sees her crying at the front of Hawkins High, he puts on his knight’s shining armor to help her out of that difficult situation.

words: 4,578

Hope you enjoy

The Misfits

Carrie

Carrie didn't understand how she had managed to be so dumb yet again. Hadn't she learned from all the previous humiliations and the jokes her peers had made her the butt of?

Once again, she found herself surrounded by pretty teens laughing at her expense. Classmates that had never moved a finger to fit in; it was granted to them. They had never had to work and fight to be accepted among their equals.

Unlike Carrie. For her every day was a battle. Getting out of bed, heading her way to highschool, trying to make herself little, little, little, so little while walking down the halls to her locker or on her way to class. Anything so as not to raise any eyes at her, so as to avoid any jokes on her. She'd rather be invisible.

So, when Jason, the coolest, most handsome boy and captain of the baseball team had asked her to prom, she became suspicious. She was no fool to be captivated by a few sweet nothings. She knew better than that. But she wanted to believe. And when Jason explained to her that he and the rest of his friends felt bad..

"Really, Carrie, we are so sorry. That talk about bullying prevention really opened our eyes. We were so mean to you" he had said.

.. and that he wanted to take her to senior prom to spend the evening partying with her and his friends, and just had fun all together, she had accepted.

How big of a fool she had been. She could never forgive herself after this. And certainly, she could never show up to highschool ever again.

Somehow, they had fixed the votes for prom king and queen. They had managed to shove her up the stairs of the stage to crown her queen -along with Jason who was crowned king. They had her facing the whole school from up the stage. Then, when they had her where they wanted her, they had poured two buckets filled to the brim with blood on her.

"Pig's blood for a pig!" she had heard someone shout from the crowd, but she had been unable to see who.

That had made everyone burst into laughter.

As if she was the main attraction of the circus. The old fat monkey everyone gathers around to enjoy throwing peanuts at.

The worst? They believed they had the right to do so. She could feel it.

The teachers, too afraid to call out anyone and cause even more commotion, didn't do anything to help her as per usual.

Still on stage, she covered her face with her hands out of shame. She was in shock. Only after a moment standing still, frozen like a deer in headlights, she managed to step forwards. She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. She needed to get out of there.

So, she raced off the stage, not without almost tripping several times over her pretty long dress that she had spent so many nights sewing, and that now clung to her body like a wet cloth, drenched in the many liters of blood they had poured over her.

She ran past the crowd of teens that stepped aside as she passed by to avoid getting stained with the blood that dripped off Carrie's dress and hair.

At that point she could already see the gym's doors from behind the spaces of her fingers. But right when she was going to cross the threshold, she tripped over a leg someone had stuck out with perfect timing to make her fall to the ground.

She was not quick enough to move her hands from her face to protect herself from the impact and she let out a strangled cry as she hit the floor. It was visceral and wild, sounding more like an animal than a human, and it only made people laugh some more at her.

After some crawling, Carrie managed to stand back up to her feet and finally crossed the double doors of the gym. She descended the stairs as fast as she could, almost flying. Stepping two or even three steps at a time until she made it through the front doors of the building.

Already out of breath, Carrie kept running a bit more until her feet — that had lost her prom kitten heels during her desperate run — tangled into each other and she fell once again, this time headfirst into the green grass patch at the very front of the school.

What’s a little bit of mud on your dress when you’re covered in blood?

Tired and exhausted, Carrie rolled over, so she was facing the starry sky as warm tears began to roll down her face. The blood on her cheeks started to wash away in rivulets, creating rivers down her face as she cried.

How pathetic. How pathetic I’ve been. Dolling myself up. Styling my hair. Doing my makeup. Dedicating all those days sewing my stupid prom dress. God, I’m so pathetic.

I even bought the fabric of Jason’s favorite color after I heard him commenting on it casually with his friends in biology class.

That made her feel the worst.

Carrie wished for the ground at the entrance of Hawkins High to open wide and swallow her whole.

Shame struck again and she covered her face with her hands once more. She couldn’t help but keep crying.

God, how I wish I was dead.

Eddie

Eddie arrived at prom around 45 minutes late. He felt he needed to give them a little time to warm up to the party before he showed up to sell his green goods. After all, he wasn’t there for fun. He hadn’t even come inside, and he wasn’t planning to. Eddie had already attended senior prom the year he was supposed to graduate.

Back when his classmates didn’t consider him yet to be as much of a freak as the kids who are graduating this year. The black sheep, yes, but not a freak.

He had gone out of curiosity mostly, and also because his friends Gareth and Jeff were going as well.

Even uncle Wayne had encouraged him to attend his senior prom. They didn’t have any fancy clothes, but Wayne lent Eddie a white shirt too oversized for his own good and he also managed to find some old dressing pants and matching jacket of his that fitted Eddie quite well if you didn’t take into account their obnoxious moss color. To top it off he still wore his beaten-up white Reeboks. The result was quite a random outfit that wasn’t too bad and somehow managed to fit prom etiquette.

The night of his senior prom Eddie had walked into the overly decorated gymnasium with his friends, stayed around for a bit listening to a few all-sound-the-same pop songs, heard the murmured (and not so murmured) laughs and comments about his clown like appearance, caught a glimpse of himself at the reflection in one of the gym’s metallic doors, checked that what those kids were saying was indeed true, and right after he decided that he’d had enough. So, he left early after an hour in.

Last year he had come to trade, and he had done some good business, so he came back this year. Although neither last year nor this year he’d dared to step a foot inside. He stayed near the front of the building. Either walking in circles kicking stones out of the way, sitting on a bench, or smoking while waiting for those who occasionally came out to buy from him.

From the outside he could hear the faint music. The warm lights of the gymnasium slightly illuminated the pavement under the windows.

Suddenly the music stopped and a male voice pronouncing an unintelligible speech took its place.

Prom King and Queen time -though Eddie- Who’d be the lucky guys this year? He asked himself with a smirk on his face and a cigarette hanging from his lips. He really couldn’t care less.

Just as the presenter finished his sprees a loud cheering started. People clapping and whistling celebrating Prom King.

And now the queen.

The presenter added a bit more of his unintelligible speech onto the mic and finally announced the Prom Queen.

And then, silence. Unlike what happened with the Prom King, some doubtful seconds passed before people eventually started cheering. Loud noises of joy and celebration kept going until, as it had happened scarce minutes ago, everything stopped. And it became dead silent once again.

Only this pause was longer.

Eddie thought how odd this was. It felt as if whatever was going on inside the gymnasium kept being paused as if it were a VHS tape.

The next sound Eddie heard was laughter. Hysterical fits of laughter that seemed to be in crescendo.

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head while wandering down the path beside the school.

Hell, highschool keeps getting more and more strange.

He was finishing his third cigarette of the night when he heard the loud thud of the front doors opening. He turned around just in time to see a dark figure stomp through them in a pathetic run only to fall headfirst into the grass a few steps ahead.

Eddie looked back at the doors, confused, in case someone else followed the strange figure. But no one came out.

He wasn’t scared by however this person was. After all they had just stuck their face right into the ground, they weren't in their best shape. Nonetheless, Eddie doubted whether to approach them or not. But before he realized his curious dungeon master mind had already decided for him as he found himself walking towards the patch of grass where this person was lying.

As Eddie got close, he discerned it was a girl, with her hands thrown over her face and her dress covered in some deep red, shiny substance.

Could it be…? No… Blood?

Yes, it is blood.

Standing right beside her there was no doubt. It was blood. She was drenched in it. Eddie could smell it.

The girl didn’t/hadn’t (seemed to) acknowledge his presence and if she had she didn’t show a single care. Her hands hid her face and Eddie could hear her sobbing behind them.

“Hey… sorry” started Eddie, unsure of what to say. “Are you okay?”

The girl stopped sobbing abruptly out of fear someone had been watching her. Slowly, she spread her fingers to steal a sneak peek. She hoped with all her heart that they weren’t speaking to her, that no one else had seen her like this.

Her white orbs appeared from the spaces between her fingers and her gaze landed on a pair of beaten-up white Reeboks. Carrie looked up.

She recognized him. It was Eddie. Eddie the freak Munson. She recalled seeing him in the cafeteria. He was unashamedly himself, despite everything, despite all the shit he usually got. He even stood up to those bullies who bothered him, and specially to one in particular: Jason Carver. Eddie had put him in his place (on) several occasions. She wished she could be more like him.

From above her, Eddie saw her open her eyes to look at him. He had seen her before but couldn't place her all dirty and red as she was. Eddie looked back at her in the eyes and then he knew: Carrie. Carrie White. She couldn’t be anyone else. The butt of all jokes for the seniors, the easy target, the extremely quiet girl who looked and felt like a ghost.

How could have they done this to her? To anyone. They never had enough.

The laughter, god… they were laughing at her.

Eddie felt suddenly overwhelmed.

He couldn’t help but to feel deep sadness and worry towards Carrie, drenched in blood lying on the grass.

His face must have visibly dropped because she quickly covered her face again and started heavily crying; without caring anymore about who could hear her or not, or see her or not.

Eddie squatted beside her in an instant.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Eddie knew that playing the strategy of talking to her as if she was a wild wounded animal wasn’t the best method to get her to talk to him but, in that moment, he wasn’t capable of coming up with anything better.

In slow motion, he dug his knees on the ground and gently placed his hands on top of hers.

She was freezing.

“Carrie, I don’t want to hurt you.” Eddie said softly. “What happened in there?” The only answer he got were muted sobs.

With his hands on her skin, he was able to feel the way she was shaking. She needed to be somewhere warm.

A hypothermia is the last thing she needs now. Carrie had already had enough traumatic experiences for the night, or for the rest of her life really.

“Come with me, I’ll drive you home. You’ll freeze out here.”

“No!” screamed Carrie. She became aware of the sudden change in her tone and as soon as it had come it disappeared. Her voice weak once again.

“No, I can’t go home. Not like this. My mother…”

Carrie couldn’t get herself to finish the sentence.

Eddie’s eyes were wide with surprise.

“Okay… well… I can’t leave you here. You’ll catch a cold.”

You’re so convincing, Eddie. Now she’ll think you are trying to kidnap her.

He stopped to think for a moment. He had an idea; it was a bit drastic considering that they hardly knew each other. Maybe it’d scare her away, but it was the best he had to offer.

“Let’s go to my van for now, okay? Maybe, if you want of course, we could go to my place. You could have a shower there and I could even lend you some clothes. Then I could drive you home.”

Eddie wondered why he was investing so much time in this situation. If it had been anyone else, well, except for his friends, he would have ignored them and pretended they weren’t even there.

But with Carrie he would rather jump in front of a ten-ton trunk than leave her there, alone. Eddie was an inherently good person. He couldn’t help helping a girl who had done nothing wrong other than being a bit too shy and a bit too offbeat. Perhaps it was also the fact that he felt a bit identified with her.

Eddie stood back up while waiting for an answer.

Carrie took the hands off of her eyes slowly and let her arms rest limp by her sides. Her eyes were puffy from heavy crying.

“Okay… yeah...” she said. “That’ll be nice, thank you.”

It can’t be worse than what already happened to me, right?

Eddie reached out a hand to help her up, but she didn’t take it. Instead, she rolled to her side and with great effort she succeeded in putting herself back up to her feet.

She looked at Eddie with glassy eyes and tried her best to give him a faint smile. As an answer she received a soft smile from Eddie’s lips as he led the way to his van, hands in his pockets.

“Alright” chanted Eddie. “This’ll be your carriage for the night. A bit old and rusty but trustworthy.”

Slow down. You think she’s in the mood for some joking?  Seriously?

He didn’t hear any replay and so he turned around to check on her. Carrie had stopped walking and now she stood a few feet away from the van, nervously fidgeting with her fingers.

“Hey, you’re alright?”

“I… I’ll stain the seat.”

The blood, right.

“It’s fine. You can sit on my jacket.”

Eddie walked towards the other side of the van. As he talked, he started taking his denim, self-customized Dio vest off. Then his black leather jacket.

He opened the passenger’s door and extended the jacket over the seat.

“And, you know, it’s not like it doesn’t have any stains already. So it’s no big deal, really.”

He dedicated her a smile. Carrie gave a couple heavy nods with her blood drenched head, and with some doubts still in her heart she took her place on the passenger’s seat.

The ride to Eddie’s home was quiet except for the unusually low volumed metal music coming from the van’s cassette player and Eddie’s occasional humming to the lyrics. He had asked her whether the music was too loud, which it wasn’t, so she shook her head no and reassured him it was okey.

Carrie could feel herself calming down. Despite Eddie’s appearance, he was a good and careful driver. He was kind too. She did no longer felt like crying. Although her eyes felt heavy and tired.

She could hear the distant murmur of the tires’ friction against the road, the muted music playing in the background, Eddie’s subtle humming... Carrie felt disgusting, with the blood threatening to dry on her skin, but she could certainly fall asleep right there, in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. She closed her eyes for a moment, just to let them rest, to enjoy this instant of peace.

She didn’t want to think ever again of what had happened —although she knew she will—, neither she wanted to face her mother and the lie she’ll have to tell her.

When Eddie parked the van in front of his and his uncle’s trailer house, he noticed Carrie’s eyes remained closed.

Is she asleep?

A mixed fear of waking up this girl he hardly knew and relief that she had at least stopped crying traversed his body in a second.

With all the self-assurance he could muster, Eddie jumped out of the van and opened her door. As he went to touch her shoulder to wake her up, her eyes snapped back open. Maybe she hadn’t succumbed to slumber after all.

“We’re here. Come on, let’s get inside” he said in a warm voice that was barely a whisper.

Eddie led the way once more and let Carrie cross the threshold of his home before him. Carrie looked worried at the black leather jacket Eddie had now hanging from his forearm, slightly stained with blood.

“Sorry...”

Eddie looked in the same direction as her to see what she was referring to. Right, his jacket. He smiled and he put her at ease assuring her that with a little help from a wet cloth it’ll be good as new. Carrie didn’t seem too convinced by his answer, but she came inside anyways, holding her long dress up so it wouldn’t drag along the floor.

“There’s the bathroom” said Eddie pointing to a door at the end of the narrow corridor.

“You can go there. I’ll bring you a towel so you can shower.”

Carrie nodded with her head hang low and directed her steps towards the bathroom.

Just as promised, Eddie showed up a moment later: in one hand he carried a white towel, in the other an old band t-shirt of his and some spare pajama bottoms he thought could fit Carrie.

She took the things he was handing her, her eyes still glued to the floor.

“Sorry agai-" Eddie interrupted her.

“Hey, no, no more sorries, okay? You’re not the one who should be apologizing".

His voice was soft, but he made his message clear. He wouldn’t accept any buts.

This time Carrie lifted her head to look Eddie in the eyes for the first time since they entered the trailer.

“Thank you, Eddie, really”

“No need to say thank you, sweetheart” He gave a warm smile as she closed the bathroom door.

Once alone, Carrie stepped into the shower and discarded all her clothes on its floor.

The warm water ran down her body, slowly washing away the blood with the help of the boyish scented shampoo she had found on the little ledge inside the shower.

The sick feeling of dirtiness sliding through the shower drain. She looked up towards the falling water with her eyes closed. Still a bit scared but overall tired, exhausted by the events of the night.

It hadn’t been a good idea resting her eyes during the ride in Eddie's van. She could have been able to trick herself into staying awake, but now she felt she could fall asleep at any moment.

Would Eddie mind if I asked him to stay the night?

No! Wait... what?

Why was she even thinking that? OF COURSE SHE COULND’T ASK HIM THAT

First of all, we barely know each other. It could even be said that we don’t know each other at all. That without taking into account the fact that I’d have to call momma to let her know I was spending the night out. And Eddie has already done more than enough for me. But...

Carrie took a moment to think about it.

If Eddie would let me stay the night here, and if I called momma saying I was staying at some friend’s house, then... maybe... I wouldn’t have to face momma's anger tonight. I wouldn’t have to go back home with my hair wet and dressed in spare boy’s clothes. I wouldn’t’ have to listen momma telling me that she told me so “Don’t go, Carrie, they’ll laugh at you. You already know.�� And most importantly, I wouldn’t have to spend the night praying in the closet.

When she was finished showering, she tuned off the water, dried herself with the soft towel and got dressed in Eddie’s clothes. There was still a little bit of blood under her nails and her skin had a slight pink tint to it, but for the moment it would do. As she approached the closed bathroom door and as she rested her hand on the handle, her heart started beating with more force.

Carrie took a deep breath, preparing herself for the act of bravery she was about to perform.

“Eddie” Carrie called suddenly, standing under his bedroom doorframe right in front of him, while he was comfortably sat on his bed.

“Would you by any chance... let me stay the night?”

Eddie’s eyes widened with surprise.

Carrie has delivered her request quite confidently, but her next sentence came out a bit stuttered.

“I mean, if it’s no problem, of course. I wouldn’t want to be a bother. I just...I don’t want”

I know my mother’ll be furious at me if I go back home like this.

Eddie opened his mouth to answer her but remained silent, still unable to utter a word.

Wow, so bold of her.

He wasn’t annoyed by her request —not in the slightest—, but rather proud.

Does this mean she trusts me enough to see me as a friend? It doesn’t happen often. At least not when I first meet someone.

The thought of been seen as a relaying figure gave him a warm feeling inside.

“Sure! I mean, I guess you can stay. My uncle's working the night shift so it’s fine. I can sleep on the couch; you take the bed.”

Carrie smiled at his sudden rumbling, relieved he was letting her stay.

“No! Please, you sleep in your bed. This is your house, I’ll take the couch.”

“It’s okey, sweetheart. I actually prefer to sleep in the couch. Just in case my uncle comes back earlier than expected. Better he finds me than a stranger.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right.”

“Not that he’d kick you out or anything though, but... yeah... you know.”

A mildly awkward silence invaded Eddie’s room, and suddenly Carrie remembered something important.

“Oh! I almost forgot. Could I phone my mother? Just to let her know I’m staying out tonight."

“Sure!” said Eddie, and happily bounced towards the kitchen where he showed her where the phone was and then he went back to his room, so she had some privacy.

Once there, he started cleaning up a bit. He picked up several candy wrappers that were scattered in his bed and emptied the ashtray that sat at his bedside table in the tiny trashcan under his narrow desk.

Jesus, a girl in my house. A girl sleeping under the same roof as me. Or, at least, the first time he remembered.

Suddenly, he got nervous in a very naive way. The same way a little kid that was about to experience his first sleepover with his friends would.

Stop it, goddammit. She just asked you for a favor, don’t be ridiculous.

He reached for his wardrobe and took out some pajamas for himself as well as a blanket to place it by the feet of the bed in case Carrie got cold in the middle of the night.

When everything in his bedroom was figured out or, well, at least as figured out as the mess that was his bedroom could be, he sat on the bed. Listening without intending to, he caught glimpses of Carrie’s murmured conversation. Hey, the trailer was small he couldn’t help it.

“Yeah... No, momma, I” he heard Carrie explain. “Yes, a friend..., no... no... ‘ll be back in the morning momma...night”

The phone call ended leaving Carrie relieved. Her mum had been quite comprehensive. She hopped she’d still act the same way tomorrow morning.

They found each other back in Eddie’s room. The trailer was mostly in the dark, engulfed in the blackness of the night with only the yellowish streetlamps of the trailer park illuminating the room.

The prospect of sleep and their own tiredness had them speaking in whispers, as if someone was already asleep in the house.

Eddie stood.

“Here you go, a comfy bed just waiting to be used.”

As soon as he finished the sentence he panicked.

“Wait! No! Agh, sorry that just sounded so bad. What I meant was... you know... yeah I mean...” —he sighed— “I mean good night.” he put an end to his nervous rambling while scratching the back of his neck.

Carrie giggled.

She giggled.

Eddie smiled.

“Good night, Eddie. And thank you again, really, I could never thank you enough for the way you’re helping me.”

“You don't need to thank me, Carrie.” Eddie said fondly in a warm, comforting voice.

She didn't know why, but the fact that he had pronounced her name and the way he said it made her feel seen.

He then left his bedroom and headed to the living room that was basically the kitchen. Or was the kitchen basically the living room? Whatever, it didn’t matter.

Eddie changed into his pajamas and laid on the couch, now turned into a bed.

What a night.

He let his mind recap the night’s events. He hadn’t made any money tonight. It hadn’t been a waste of time either though, at least he had been there for Carrie.

His eyes started giving up to drowsiness.

She’s safe now. But... what about next Monday when she’ll have to face highschool again?

Finally, Eddie fell asleep. Meanwhile, in his own room, Carrie started dreaming too.

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Hi! So you made it to the end, nice ;) Please consider leaving a comment if you liked it, and if you didn’t you can also tell me why (ain’t nothin’ but a heartache, tell me why, ain’t nothin’ but a mistake, tell me why)

[syd-bunny]

Hi! I would like a fluffy story where it's happening those Valentine's Day event at Bates School and everyone's having their pair and love letters at closets, except Carrie. Then the Y/N confesses the love for her, give her flowers and the day passes and they turned a couple where on break times, they enjoy to stay isolated from the school to cuddle under the tree, with Carrie resting on chest and the Y/N embracing and caressing her hair :)

Ok! I hope you like it :D

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It was Valentine’s Day. Everyone seemed to be a couple at Bates High School. Everyone, that is, except for Carrie. She opened up her locker, in hopes that there would be a card or a letter for her, or at the very least some candy. She let out a disappointed sigh when she saw nothing. Some of her bullies snickered and mumbled rude things to one another about her. Carrie quickly glanced over at them before looking away, trying not to pay any attention to them, but it was hard. She just stood there in front of her locker, unsure of what to do next. She hated being the least popular kid in school, especially on Valentine’s Day.

Then, Carrie felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see Y/N. They were holding a beautiful and colorful bouquet of flowers. Carrie didn’t know what to say.

“I-I… can I help you…?” she stuttered. Those flowers couldn’t be for her. Or were they?

“Hey, Carrie.” Y/N said with a smile on their face. “I figured Valentines Day would be the best day to say this but…I have a crush on you. Carrie, would you be my valentine?”

To say that Carrie was shocked would be an understatement. She couldn’t believe what was happening! It felt like a dream.

“You… you really want to be my valentine…?” Carrie asked, wanting to clarify.

“Yeah, I do.” Y/N confirmed. They handed the bouquet of flowers to her. Carrie couldn’t help but smile. She was longing for something like this to happen. Without thinking, Carrie hugged Y/N, already having the same feelings they had.

Carrie did have a little voice in the back of her head telling her that this was wrong and how her mother wouldn’t approve. Still, she didn’t care. Her mother wouldn’t stop her new love for Y/N.

A few weeks later, Carrie and Y/N were a couple. They were so happy. During breaks, they would always be cuddled up outside, away from all of the other students. There was a big, shady oak tree that they liked to sit under. Carrie would rest on Y/N’s chest happily while they would hug her and run their hands through her blonde hair. Sometimes they would talk, but other times they’d rest in a comfortable silence. Carrie was so happy that she finally found someone who understood and loved her. Y/N never would talk down to her or be rude. They were always so sweet and compassionate, which Carrie adored. To Carrie and Y/N, life couldn’t be any better.

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. bragging about your oh-so-perfect boyfriend to your friends certainly has its (welcomed) consequences. . .

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff & smut. p in v -> unprotected. missionary. sweet but also nasty and condescending. creampie. body worship. size difference / - kink. nicknames ‘(little) princess, baby’. name calling once. not proof read bcs im sleepy. wc. 2k+

“right! he’s so thoughtful,” you sigh dreamily as you chat with your friends over the phone. you’re laying on satoru’s bed, kicking your feet up while you remove your make-up. of course, you had to call your girls to tell them all about the little date you just had with your boyfriend.

satoru’s in the shower, so you’re taking the time to relive the experience.

“here she goes again y’all,” one of your friends sighs dramatically, to which the others follow with giggles of their own. they know that you can go on and on about your partner. they’ve heard all of it before.

you grin and roll your eyes, rubbing the cleansing wipe over your lips, removing the light pink gloss you had on. you’re all giddy as you recall what satoru has done and given to you this evening. you’ve been pampered—spoiled rotten.

“hey! don’t blame me,” you retort with a chuckle. your friends laugh and urge you to go on since they’re only joking. the stories you tell are always either adorable or heartwarming, and thus they’re happy to listen. plus, debriefing you on your love life is free entertainment.

it’s not unusual for you to stray from the main story. you ramble about the restaurant you’ve visited, the pretty green scenery you’ve walked past, the museum you’ve visited, the way satoru paid for everything and how he made sure to pick activities you’re interested.

you get an occasional ‘aww’ or ‘cuteee’ when you mention your boyfriend’s loving gestures. from the enormous bouquet of flowers he’s gotten you, to the fact that he carried you back into his apartment the moment you told him your feet were hurting.

walking in heels wasn’t the smart move you thought it was, though luckily you had a thoughtful lover by your side.

“he’s just so handsome ‘n stuff. god—“ you squeal, not even bothering to dampen your excitement. you hide your face behind your hands for a split second, gaining a few fan girling squeaks from your friends as well. they’re happy that you’re being treated like deserved.

you don’t hear the door of the bedroom open since you’re too busy gushing about satoru. you’re focused on your small pocket mirror, careful not to forget a spot on your face. you notice that your friends have gone quiet, but you don’t question it.

“his gentle personality is honestly such a turn-on,” you mumble as you rub off the concealer from under your eyes, “and his subtle yet possessive touches? phew, don’t get me started.” you continue to babble on about how hot satoru is when he gets mad, unable to point out a flaw.

you’re about to comment on your friends’ sudden silence when a hand lands on your shoulder. you freeze and finally make eye contact with no one other than satoru—hovering over you from behind. he’s smiling down at you and mumbles a quick, ‘hey, baby’, before kissing your forehead.

you try to explain the situation, yet have no idea where to start. you can hear a friend of yours snickering and another faintly whisper an ‘oh, girl. . .’

before you have the ability to get another word out, satoru cuts you off, waving at your front camera for a second. his smile reaches his eyes and his dimples show;

“hey ladies, mind if i steal my girl from you?” satoru asks as he puts an arm around you. he places his cheek against yours, awaiting an answer. your friends are left speechless at the sudden turn of events.

the white-haired man appears extremely good on screen. he’s basically blessing them with his handsome looks. the towel hanging over his head indicates that he just came out of a fresh shower. there’s a visible vein running down his neck—nearly bulging out of the skin—as if satoru’s holding himself back.

once your friends snap out of their daze, they greet satoru and nod, exchanging quick ‘see you later’s. your boyfriend thanks them with another one of his charming smiles. he waves at the camera again, “bye bye, thank you.”

the call ends and the bedroom falls quiet. you stare at your screen which fades to black, completely dumbfounded. you quickly sit up—your mind a chaotic mess full of thoughts.

“satoru, i uhm, i didn’t know—“ you attempt to form an explanation, though you realise that it’s likely futile. satoru’s probably heard every word that left your mouth. you look up at him, your voice a quiet whisper, “how much did you hear?”

the sorcerer grins. he’s so enamored with you; everything you do is adorable. he grabs your hands and holds then into his larger ones—thumbs gently rubbing your skin. he pulls them up to his lips so he could place chaste kisses on your knuckles.

“everything, princess,” satoru hums, rotating your hands to place kisses on the inside of your wrists. there’s a subtle blush on his cheeks that even reaches his ears. no matter how calm and collected he may seem, he’s still but a complete sucker to your love, “talking about me to your little friends, hm? how cute.”

a shiver runs down your spine. you feel your tummy turn as you’re slowly guided onto your back. multiple kisses cover your body—from head to toe—like a canvas getting painted on. satoru’s taking his sweet time, admiring the art that’s your physique.

every piece of clothing that comes off is a step closer to the grande revelation. the masterpiece that is you. moving from one empty spot - filling it with his kisses - to another. sighs of content leave your lover’s mouth with each reveal, as if he hasn’t seen the sight of your naked body before.

“does this turn you on, baby? my ‘subtle touches’?” satoru mutters against your breasts, remembering your earlier words. his blue eyes stare up at you through his white lashes. not wearing his blindfold may overstimulate him due to his abilities, but he’ll risk anything if it’s to admire you the best he can.

he chuckles when you nod. your boyfriend kisses your hard nipples—taking his time to swirl his tongue around both of them just to feel your back arch off the mattress. your hands holding onto him for life is extremely thrilling. “it turns me on too,” satoru confesses quietly. his slender fingers reach the hem of your panties, “you turn me on so fuckin’ much.”

your breath hitches when your underwear gets tossed somewhere across the room. you’re dripping, obviously. there’s no way you couldn’t get turned on by the way satoru’s been worshipping your entire being.

you can also see the effect you have on him; he’s sweating. the vein on his neck seems to grow more visible when your cunt is revealed to him.

“there she is,” satoru grins in satisfaction. he seems to be in a daze for a second before he regains composure. he looks at you for a quick check, needing to know if he has your consent before he continues. the moment you nod, your lover separates your legs.

you sniff and try to hide your embarrassed expression behind a hand. satoru’s quick to pin your wrist above your head so you wouldn’t have the chance to do any of that. “keep your eyes on me, yeah?” he leans in to place a swift kiss on your lips.

“mhm,” you nod after returning the peck. the white-haired man utters a small ‘thank you’ and undoes his sweatpants with his free hand. he fumbles with his boxers—unable to keep himself from trembling in pleasure from the view alone.

your small body underneath him is a sight he’ll never get tired of. that face of yours morphing into one of pleasure whenever you’re intimate is one of his favorite things to witness. thus why the missionary is his go to position.

“c’mon,” satoru kisses your cheek as he manages to pull his erected cock out of his underwear. it’s standing tall, the tip pointing right at the place it wants to be buried at—your wet, warm and inviting pussy, “you were so loud when talking with y’r friends ‘n now you’ve gone quiet on me.”

satoru pouts, “it’s not fair. i wanna hear my princess too.”

you almost choke on your spit because of how whiny yet demanding satoru sounds. you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, firmly holding your hand down above your head. you’re still flustered by the entire situation. you open your mouth as tears gather in your eyes, “i’m sorry, i’m jus— ngh!”

you can’t even get your words out. the lewd feeling of satoru rubbing his tip between your folds completely catches you off guard. he grins, as if he planned on doing that the moment you tried to speak. he’s such a tease.

“shh, shh, i know,” satoru coos mockingly, acting like he’s not doing it on purpose. you can’t blame the man; he’s been rock hard ever since he heard you praise him so openly through the phone. your lovely voice speaking so highly of him was driving him nuts.

you’re so appreciative for all he’s doing and it makes the sorcerer want to spoil you even more. to give you the love and affection you deserve because of how precious you are—even if you don’t realise it.

he wants to give you more. more, more, more.

without thinking, satoru pushes his cock right through your tight cunt. he shudders at the sight of your poor, small pussy struggling to take his fat dick. he can’t hurt you, he knows. especially with the amount of times the bulbous head of his cock nearly bruised your cervix.

though, it’s difficult not to go all out. you’re so accepting of everything he does—satoru can see that by the way your eyes stare at him. it’s all love. the light reflecting in your pupils makes them sparkle beautifully. he cusses under his breath, “y’re so pretty, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck. y’re making it so hard.”

satoru tries his best not to plunge his cock all the way to the hilt. he reaches halfway with each thrust, the thwacking sound increasing by the second. your legs automatically wrap around his waist and your fingers squeeze his.

“toruuu, fmhh, so big,” you babble, the drool forming in the corners of your lips threatening to drip down your chin. each soft yet firm thrust seems to resonate within you, evoking a sense of pleasurable contentment.

satoru lets out a haughty chuckle at the sight of you going cockdrunk already. he’s still trying to hold his urges back by focusing on your satisfaction alone. “i’ll give you something else to brag ‘bout to y’r friends,” he pants with a confident smirk, kissing your jawline as he ruts into you,

you’re embarrassed by your current predicament. despite that, you find yourself enjoying every consequence that your actions have caused. your moans echo in satoru’s ears, each slap of your bodies connecting sounding twice as loud.

his thick cock is stretching you out so well. your cunt is working overtime to make space for every inch. your boyfriend gently bites your bottom lip, his breath faltering when you clench around him in response.

“‘re ya gonna tell them?” satoru asks through a guttural moan. his hips move non-stop, aiming to please you until you lose your mind. he’ll live up to the expectations set no matter what. he kisses the swell of your breasts, “are ya gonna tell ‘em how you let your ‘lovely’ boyfriend fuck you like this? how y’re a complete slut for his cock?”

you don’t know how to react to his dirty talk. it’s getting you wetter, that’s for sure. your thighs shake around his waist and your tummy feels like it’s doing flips. satoru doesn’t leave it there, “gonna tell them about how good i fill you up, yeah? dirty little girl telling all her friends about our private life, tsk tsk.”

it’s overwhelming. the sudden increase in dirty talk makes you want to cum on spot. you feel like you’re being degraded, however satoru’s touches make you feel appreciated and loved. his hand holding yours above your head never leaves you—a sign that this is still him making love to you.

“am—am not gonna,” you hiccup. the words simply roll of your tongue without much thought. you’re mindlessly responding to your lover. “am not gonna tell them anything,” you continue before cutting yourself off with a string of whiny moans when satoru plays with your clit.

satoru shakes his head, increasing the pressure and speed in which he’s pumping into you. he loves the view of you being so helpless—succumbing to the pleasure he’s granting you. “sureeee, i believe you,” your boyfriend snickers and pushes his pulsing cock in further. his tone is soft but condescending, “i’ll trust my little princess to keep her mouth shut f’me.”

you’re getting so close. your nails dig into his skin and your noises get louder. you’re right on the edge of euphoria. the clit stimulation along with the feeling of being filled to the brim is enough to make you see stars.

satoru nods at your desperate whimpers that alarm him that you’re close to climax. “i got you, baby. cum f’me—i got you,” he places sloppy kisses all over your face and rams his cock in and out of you in a stronger rhythm. there’s nothing satoru wants to do in this world more than to flood your insides with his cum.

his cock doesn’t stop prodding at your sweet spots and it’s making you approach that peak; the peak of pleasure that’s going to push you over the edge. you hold tightly onto your lover and he doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace. “it’s okay, do it f’me,” satoru encourages you once again through a husky whisper.

you’re thankful that you have such an attentive partner. he can go from teasing you to comforting you and it’s the most reassuring thing ever. you’ve never had a man hold you so intimately while he’s balls deep into you.

“g’nna cum,” a strangled moan leaves your throat when you try to speak. your chests are pressed together and your heartbeats match—like the perfect pair you are. satoru feels his balls clench with an aching feeling, needing to release every last drop they have stored into your tiny cunt.

just thinking about the way you were bragging about him again, is enough. “take it—fuuuckk—take it all, baby,” the white-haired man takes a deep breath in and can’t help but bury his entire dick inside of you, that one last thrust making you yelp.

you reach your climaxes at the exact same time. your fluids mix as you feel satoru’s thick spurts of cum coat your insides a sticky white. your body spasms and your boyfriend instantly soothes you by rubbing your back. his own legs are trembling a little, but you’re far more important.

you don’t utter a word and simply focus on regaining your energy. all that you can say are incoherent babbles. “easy,” satoru kisses the corners of your eyes and relishes in the fact that he’s fucked you full of his cum. it’s a reminder of just how much he loves you.

a few encouraging words and hugs later and you’ve calmed down. you don’t fully grasp the reality of the situation until the adrenaline and other hormones drop down to a normal level.

you’re suddenly reminded by your previous words and this time, you succeed in hiding your face into the crook of satoru’s neck.

it’s certain that he’s greatly enjoyed overhearing you talk about him to your friends, but it’s still a somewhat embarrassing memory you wish to forget. “not a word, please. j-jus act like you haven’t heard anything,” you mumble quietly now that you’ve come down from your high.

satoru laughs softly. he can’t help but tease you after that—it’s a given. you’re still so caught up on what happened and it’s endearing.

however, satoru wouldn’t be him if he didn’t tease you about your little comments. without pulling out, he tilts his head back and stares down at you with a faint grin, “do i have to act like i haven’t fucked you silly just now too?”

“satoru!”

[coffee-and-geto]

LET ME WARM YOU UP

summary: satoru comes home after an early morning when he went to the bakery to buy you some pastries, frozen to the bone by the biting early december cold. doesn’t he deserve to find you under the warm comforter where your warm presence hides?

cw: fluff, domestic, gojo has his nose pink from the cold, he’s silly, needy and so in love <3, i have put some pastries i know bc i’m french but ignore them if you don’t like croissant (what’s on ur mind) or pain au chocolat (i agree on this).

wc: 721

When Satoru enters the bakery — his body draped in a long coat, head wrapped in a knit cap, and half his face hidden behind a large scarf — the gentle chime of the entrance bell feels like a sweet melody mingling with the warm, sugary scent of the quiet, early-morning haven.

Behind the sparkling glass displays are heaps of pastries that make his mouth water. From chocolate croissants to apple turnovers, the variety of treats teases his senses as he approaches the kind, tiny baker, who barely reaches his chest.

“Good morning, young man,” she coos like a grandmother, tilting her head up to look at him. “Feeling like something sweet this early?”

Six o’clock in the morning — was it too early?

Satoru would camp outside the bakery if it meant sharing pastries with you.

He hums thoughtfully. “I’d like a brioche, a chocolate croissant, a croissant, an éclair, and a strawberry tart,” he says, distracted by the vibrant colors tempting him to buy out the entire bakery.

The baker grabs a bag and carefully places his order inside, smiling warmly.

“Will that be all, young man?”

Satoru nods.

“Alright.” She names the total price and hands him the large bag once he pays. “Are you planning to eat all of this yourself, young man?”

A smile capable of melting ice stretches across Satoru’s face, despite being hidden behind his scarf. “I’ll share it with my girlfriend.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you.” After he pays, the baker hands him a blue lollipop, the kind that colors your tongue. “A boy like you, who takes such good care of his loved ones, deserves this.”

Satoru accepts it with a word of thanks before heading home, where you’re unknowingly waiting for him, still tucked beneath the warm covers of your bed.

He enters the apartment silently, closing the door with care and removing his shoes and coat in near-perfect quiet. In the kitchen, he wastes no time arranging a breakfast tray, loading it with the pastries he bought and a cup of tea and coffee.

He performs the task with an adorably proud smile, humming cheerfully at the thought of sharing a warm breakfast with you under the blanket, where you’d thaw his December-chilled body.

With the tray prepared to perfection, he carries it to the bedside table and sets it down gently before slipping into the bed. The combination of the soft blanket and your warmth, still lingering in the sheets, begins to ease the cold from his body. His stiff, frozen arms wrap around you, rousing you from sleep.

“Toru?” you whisper, your eyes fluttering open as a yawn escapes your lips.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Satoru murmurs into the crook of your warm neck.

You shiver at how cold he feels. “Did you go out?” You turn to wrap your arms around him, planting a kiss on his nose, pink from the cold.

“Brought pastries,” he hums. “Wanna eat with me?” He blinks at you cutely, his snow-dusted lashes framing eyes as deep and blue as the ocean.

“You did?” The corners of your mouth turn down as you pull him closer. Satoru’s habit of buying things for you without needing to be asked makes your heart ache in the sweetest way. “Of course, my love.” You pepper kisses all over his face. “Love you so much.”

He grins so cutely you want to crush his head in your arms.

Minutes later, you’re both sitting up in bed, the makeshift tray perched on your shared lap as you indulge in a perfect breakfast.

Through the bedroom window, the first snowflakes of December fall onto the balcony, covering it in a white blanket that matches your lover’s hair. The sky, equally white, might’ve seemed dull and cold, but sitting beside Satoru, who is devouring almost all the pastries, brightens the weather.

Once your stomachs are full, Satoru burrows under the blanket, pressing his face against your pajama-clad stomach. A giggle escapes you, your chest shaking gently with the sound.

“What are you doing?” you ask, raising a playful eyebrow.

“Cuddling,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the comforter.

“You look more like a whiny cat, you know.”

“If a whiny cat gets cuddles, then I am one.”

Your laughter bubbles over, warming Satoru, who nearly purrs as your fingers scratch at his scalp.

a/n: hello guys :)) i know it’s been like two weeks w/ anything but let’s forget that, hmm? so 1st december is the birthday of my bsf haha and sadly the end of fall for me... (i’m depressed bc of this). but, i’m in the mood to write everything fluffy, etc. (saying this while my brain is mentally preparing a big angsty fic for the coming weeks bwahahaha). hope you guys have a nice week and see you soon <33

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422

@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar

@monokaix

[nereidprinc3ss]

be my angel

in which BAU fem!reader was injured on the job, but is refusing painkillers at the hospital. spencer thinks he knows why.

fluff (+a little angst) warnings/tags: established relationship, hospital stuff, reader got beat up by an unsub, discussions of spencer's past addiction, mentions of period cramps, reader ends up being administered some sort of painkiller a/n: another draft i found in my literal hundreds of pages of abandoned wips and fixed up cause it's cute, I hope you like!!!

Spencer is tearing through the hospital. They all keep saying you’re going to be okay, but what does that even mean? Why is nobody telling him anything? He’s not even sure he heard what the orderly at the front desk said, but his feet are carrying him with a strident purpose through the winding white halls, so he has to assume he at least subconsciously knows where he’s going. 

Finally he spots Penelope, a beacon in her candy-colored clothing, speaking to a doctor in hushed tones. Penelope sees him approaching and turns away from the doctor, looking harried and exhausted. 

“Is she okay? What happened?” Spencer demands, before either of the others can say a word. 

“She’s okay,” the doctor assures. “She was beat up pretty bad—concussion, broken ribs, some bruising that looks worse than it is. There was a clean shot through her arm, but—” 

His blood runs cold. Nobody told him you were shot. Why had nobody told him you were shot? 

“I need to see her.” 

The doctor frowns, glancing between the two agents. 

“I’m sorry, are you her spouse?” 

“Yes. No, not yet, I just—I need to see her, please. Now.” 

“Sir, unless she—” 

“Just let him see her!” Penelope practically yells. “She wants him here, believe me.”  

The doctor clenches her jaw and scribbles something on her clipboard. 

“Okay. Maybe you can try to convince her to accept some painkillers.” 

Spencer’s frown deepens. 

“She’s refusing pain management?” 

“We gave her as much ibuprofen as we could, but she refused anything stronger than that. She has to be in a lot of pain right now, and there’s no background of addiction.” 

“I’ll talk to her,” Spencer says, already twisting the silver door handle. He has a sneaking suspicion as to why you denied pain treatment, and it makes him feel incredibly guilty. More than he already did, after this entire debacle. 

The sight of you, bloodied and bruised and obviously suffering has his heart splintering right down the middle. Whatever meager semblance of a smile he can scrounge up and offer is reflected back to him on you—which only makes him feel worse. As always, you’re putting on a brave face. 

“Hey,” Spencer says quietly as he closes the door behind him. 

“Hi,” you croak. “How do I look?” 

He approaches, sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing your hair away from your face. 

“How do you feel? The doctor told me you wouldn’t accept pain medication,” he murmurs. 

You sniff. 

“I feel okay. Did she tell you it’s not as bad as it looks?” 

But your voice is so small, so wavery and weak, that he knows you’re lying. 

“Sweetheart...” 

You’ve been holding it together since the unsub beat you nearly unconscious. You held it together as he ran away, even got a couple shots in before he turned around and returned fire. You held it together while you sat against the dirty truck, bleeding out, not sure if your team was coming, and you held it together in the ambulance, and for the past thirty minutes in this hospital bed. But all it takes is one gentle word from Spencer, with that concerned, solicitous look in his eye, and the floodgates are opening. Tears spring up in your eyes and begin silently falling down your dirtied cheeks. 

“It’s okay!” you attempt to reassure him, affecting cheeriness even through the tears. “It doesn’t hurt. I’m fine!” 

He says your name soft and low and he tries his best to keep his tone even though he is liable to burst into tears or start yelling at someone (not you) at any minute.  

“I know that’s not true. You have broken ribs and a gunshot wound. I know how badly it hurts to breathe and how it feels every time you move your arm. That is too much damage for over-the-counter anti-inflammatories. You need real analgesics.” 

“I don’t,” you whisper. Your teary eyes make his whole body ache. He squeezes your hand—the one that’s not connected to the wounded arm. 

“Because of me?” You stare at him blankly, as if you’re shocked he was able to put two and two together. “I promise you don’t need to worry about that.” 

You sniffle. 

“But what if—what if they give me the drugs and I get all weird and it’s, it’s like... triggering for you, or something?” 

“It’s been a really long time since I’ve worried about that. I’d rather see you a little tired and out of it than in extreme pain and trying to pretend you’re not. You getting the pain relief you need in a medical emergency is not going to make me relapse.” 

“But I really think I could go without,” you begin, voice already tightening around a cry. “I’ve—I’ve had period cramps that were worse than this.” 

Despite himself, he chuckles. Goes back to stroking your hair. 

The laughter fades quickly. All the pain you’re in is so evident in your eyes. The dissociative glassiness, the tension around them, the bloodshot quality—he's seen it many times before, and he hates it on you. 

“Will you please tell them you’re ready to take something? They won’t give you Dilaudid. It’s too strong. They’ll give you something that I’d have no interest in anyway.” 

“Not funny,” you whisper. 

He ignores this. 

“Will you let me call the doctor back in?” 

You take a deep, shuddering breath—or at least, you try to, before you’re loosing a sharp squeak that deteriorates into a little sob. The ribs. 

Spencer doesn’t bother asking again, just gets up and begins to walk away as efficiently as his legs will carry him. You need painkillers and he thinks it might be fastest to just fetch the doctor or a nurse from the hallway. 

“Wait,” you plead.  

He stops. Reminds himself that you need him right now—not his medical opinions. Spencer turns back around and approaches again, crouching by your bedside this time. 

“What, honey?” 

“I don’t...” 

You trail off, overcome by something like fear in the width and shine and nervous dart of your eyes. Spencer knows, everybody at the BAU knows, that showing fear to a serial killer will get you killed that much quicker. During your time alone with the unsub, which is a can of worms Spencer literally cannot psychologically open right now, you had to put on your bravest face. Even while you were being beaten within an inch of your life. Even when you thought you were going to die, alone, and that your team—that Spencer—wasn't coming back for you. Because that’s the kind of thing you have to do to cope when you’re at rock bottom. But you were terrified. Petrified. That doesn’t just go away—and Spencer knows it’ll be bumping against the surface until it finds a way out.  

He has to remember that just because you look unafraid and you act unafraid doesn’t mean you aren’t. 

“You were so brave,” he manages after he’s sure he can say it without incident, swiping moisture from your cheek. “You did everything exactly right.” 

“I know,” you whisper, chin trembling. Spencer knows you, and he knows this kind of trauma well enough to know that you’re thinking, I did everything exactly right, and it wasn’t enough. I did everything exactly right and this is what I have to show for it. 

“But nobody needs you to act like it wasn’t hard, okay? You don’t need to pretend like it doesn’t hurt. You were so, so brave, angel. You don’t have to be brave anymore.” 

Your eyes squeeze shut, sending a new wash of tears over your tacky cheeks. A few moments pass. You say nothing. He hopes you’re not going to hide away inside yourself like he did. 

“Will you please, please, let me get the doctor?” 

At least this time you don’t immediately say no. 

“Will you come right back?” 

“Of course.” 

Finally, you nod your hesitant assent, and Spencer presses a careful kiss to your forehead. 

A few minutes later, the doctor—who was shocked that Spencer was able to so quickly change your very made-up mind—is back, and so is Spencer. It only takes a moment for them to determine the best course of action for you and soon the fist around his heart is loosening its grip as he watches some of the agony melting from your eyes. 

“Better?” he murmurs as the nurse who’d administered the drugs leaves, fanning his thumb over the underside of your wrist. You nod, already appearing sleepy. 

“Can you lie down with me?” 

He smiles at the way your words slip against each other, simply relieved that you’re able to relax and no longer in extreme pain. 

“Hospital beds aren’t rated for two people.” 

“Spencer.” 

It’s enough for him to climb onto the bed—not that he was ever going to deny you what you wanted to begin with. The fit isn’t exactly perfect—he's a bit too long and combined the two of you are just slightly too wide—but with some finagling it’s comfortable enough. Spencer has slipped his arm underneath you and your head is on his shoulder and he’s so glad to have you in his arms and so grateful that you’re okay he does something almost like praying in his head as he kisses your hair. 

“Hey. Ask me about my bruises.” 

“Why? Do they still hurt?” 

“You should see the other guy.” 

It’s dumb and it doesn’t make sense because you didn’t bother waiting for him to actually set the joke up—but he smiles dryly nonetheless. 

“Can you please give me... I don’t know, 36 hours before you start making jokes about almost dying?” 

“Clock starts now.” 

“Thank you.” He feels your lips curve into a half-conscious smile against his neck. It’s a wonderful feeling. “How are your ribs? Breathing feels okay?” 

“Mhm. Love breathing.” 

“Mhm. And your arm?” 

“Like I got shot.” 

“Well, that’s pretty much unavoidable. But not as bad as before, right?” 

“Right. Spencer?” 

“What, my love?” 

A little pleased puff of air warms his shoulder. He carefully rubs your hip. 

“Will you tell me how brave I was again?” 

He takes a silent, very deep breath.  

“You were incredibly brave. And smart, too. I’m really proud of you for how you handled that situation. I’m so sorry you had to go through that, but I don’t think anyone could have handled it better. Especially when you chose to stay put by the truck, instead of chase him. I know that wasn’t what you wanted to do, but it was the right choice.” 

“I thought you guys maybe weren’t coming,” you murmur, no hint of sadness in your smushed, flat voice—like you’re barely awake. “I waited half an hour and I thought you weren’t gonna find me.” 

“Angel, I will always find you. We didn’t stop looking even once, as soon as we noticed you were gone. I’m just sorry I wasn’t with Emily and Rossi when they got to you.” 

“’Nelope told me... she told me you got really angry and scary.” 

He stares at the ceiling and considers this. 

“I could see... how what I was feeling would be interpreted that way. I was pretty angry. But not at Penelope or any of them. I was mostly just scared.” 

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you whisper. “And I’m sorry if I made you mad.” 

“You did not. I wasn’t mad at you. And it’s not your fault that I got scared. You were just trying to do your job. None of this is your fault.” 

“She also said that you said fuck like... three times.” 

“Mm... doesn’t sound like me,” he evades. You giggle, and the sound is more a relief than any drug he could take.

“No, seriously, I’m so mad I missed it. I love hearing you swear. Tell me what you said—and you have to cause I’m all messed up so I get whatever I want.” 

He sighs in mock annoyance. 

“Well, she’s wrong. I only said fuck once. I used fucking as an intensifier twice.” 

You hum. 

“Sexy.” 

“Alright,” Spencer laughs, flushing as he moves his hand to your shoulder. “Go to sleep before I tell them to up your dosage, weirdo.” 

[allurilove]

Calm Yandere x you

“Your expressionless boyfriend.”

Rated 18 + — mature short content!

Includes: calm yandere x talkative gender neutral reader, mutual pining?, strangers to friends to lovers, cute fluff in the beginning… other stuff later on. wink wink. ♡

Calm yandere was known to be a little cold. His default face is an unamused one, the ends of his lips always downward, and it certainly scared you away from him when you first saw him. He didn’t like to socialize as much as you did, and when you talked to him, he only seemed to nod. “Mhm,” and “uh-huh,” was all you could get from him. He didn’t hate nor dislike you— you’re an absolute perfect specimen, and a normal, and adaptable human being. You were everything he wanted to be. You were everything he wanted, period. He started to form a crush on you, and it was a minuscule one at first. He appreciated how you were able to carry a conversation, how bright and confident you looked compared to him, and you were this bright light in his grim dark reality.

Calm yandere was surprised when you made the first move. You wanted to be friends, and being just friends with you felt like torture. Although, he agreed—not wanting to miss the opportunity to be by your side even more. He followed you around, agreed to show up to all hangouts you planned, and he even invited you to his house. His house was surprisingly warm. He had soft white curtains, light pink decorations here and there, and it smelled like freshly baked cookies. Warm and sweet was what you would describe him now that you got to know him. He was the perfect host. He was showing you around the backyard, and he pointed out a couple of butterflies that liked to come by. His voice was flat and monotonous when he explained his favorite butterflies to you, but you could see a slight glimmer of happiness in his eyes. And most importantly, he showed you his bedroom. He had manga books on his shelves, Smiski figurines, and one of the compartments was just filled with snacks. He had an old dog named “Mini” that was sleeping on his huge bed, loudly snoring, and kicking her feet as she dreamt of running around.

Calm yandere had asked you to be his partner months later. You were shocked when he confessed his feelings for you, and here calm yandere was, thinking that he had done a good job of hinting at it. You did notice the glances he would send your way, and how they would linger a bit longer than before. You then started to think back to the times he would do things for you. He would bend down and tie your shoelaces. He gave you his jacket when it was raining, and he would walk home soaking wet. He carried you on his back when you tripped and hurt your ankle. He let you into his house when you fought with your parents, and tried his damn hardest to crack a worried expression on his stone-like face. It wasn’t like you weren’t into him, you tried to give him signals too.

Calm yandere was oblivious, just as you were oblivious. You had literally invited him to every place you could think of. You made pottery with him, and even put your hands on his to help him shape his clay into a vase. That was a very intimate act. An act that made you flustered and blushing when you had pressed your body behind his. Him, on the other hand, didn’t even blink at the action. When you had told him that you found him cute and adorable, he just said “okay.” OKAY?? Clearly that meant he didn’t like you back, and you quickly put on a strained smile and went on with your day.

Calm yandere was an active listener, not really a replier, but a listener. He might look like he was disinterested, but any subject you brought up was the most interesting, and fascinating, topic of all time. You would talk his ear off, and you liked to speak your mind. “So, as I was saying…” you continued. He nodded along, his cheek resting on his hand, and he leaned even closer to play with the strands of your hair. He liked feeling and touching you. It reminded him that you were real, that you were in front of him, and you were officially his. Your lips were perfect, always moving and speaking, and it would form the world’s most beautiful smile. He could tell that some days you didn’t want to hear any solutions from him, and only wanted to have someone to talk too. So, he does exactly what you want.

Calm yandere was happy to advance the relationship even further! He would show finally show some PDA. An arm would casually be slung around your shoulders while you two walked. Whenever you sat next to him, and he didn’t like the distance between you two, he would grab onto the leg of the chair and pulled it in closer. He then would kiss your cheek, and as fast as it came, he had pulled back before you could reciprocate. He knew that being a boyfriend meant that he had to do some certain things… He was feeling bold when he saw you wearing shorts, and without really thinking, his hand reached out to touch at your thighs.

Calm yandere was taken aback by the overwhelming positive reaction. He didn’t imagine that a single brush from his finger tips would cause your brain to go haywire. You had pushed him onto the couch, and he fell back with a little grunt. He saw that you had climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips, and had placed his hand on a sensitive spot of your body. He felt up the flesh, and his fingers slipped underneath your shorts. He kept a watchful eye on your facial expressions, and he hummed in delight when you spread your thighs even further for him. He rubbed his fingers up and down the length of your privates, and he started to collect some of the wet substance that had leaked out. He heard you breathe out his name, and when your voice soon became whiny and you had pleaded for more, he knew you had to be close.

Calm yandere had you on your back. He pulled your shorts down your legs, flinging them to the side after he revealed your lower half to him. He leaned down to greet your sex with his tongue. You were loud and talkative in bed, just as you were out of it. Your back arched, and your hands painfully gripped at his hair. Your body started to tremble, almost trying to squirm its way out from underneath him. His hands had to keep your legs from closing on him, “don’t try to keep me away from you.” your boyfriend said firmly. He then gestured to the growing tent in his pants, “this is all your fault. I’ll make you feel good if you can do the same for me.”

Calm yandere liked to lick his fingers in front of you. His tongue swiping at the salty cum before he fully puts his digits inside his mouth. He could feel the wrinkles and ridges of his pruned fingers, and he gleefully sucked off the excess cum and saliva that had gathered on there. You were lying on the couch with a bit of a daze, your chest rising and falling, and you could still feel his eyes wandering on the work he had done. You had love bites on your neck, trailing down to your inner thighs, and lower towards your ankles. He had bit you down there to keep his voice down while he had himself buried deep inside of you. What could he say? You knew how to press his buttons and drive him wild.

Allure: this is calm yandere after you had called him cute.

Allure: A little update: I’ll work on the master list soon after this, and I’ll have to update a couple of lists such as the yandere kink ones… so that should be done next!

[imaginedisish]

Close to You (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Oh my god. I got so carried away with this. It was not supposed to be this long. Anyway, here's the beach fic, y'all. This one is inspired by "Close to You" by Gracie Abrams...which is an absolute banger. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The team goes away on a weekend beach trip, and your pining for Logan comes to a head when you're forced to share a room...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT!! Thigh riding, oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, soft!Logan, feelings, fluff, afab!reader/fem!reader, reader wears a bikini (no descriptions at all, though!), one bed trope (muahaha), friends to lovers, cursing, absolutely some grammatical errors bc this fic is so long, I think that's it!

Word Count: 6,577 this was so self indulgent

You step out onto the concrete and the salt in the air immediately coats your skin. The breeze is sticky and slightly humid, but it smells so good. You can hear the waves crashing against the sand, seagulls squawking above. Laughter on the boardwalk. Carnival music blaring from all the rides. It’s perfect—the sun is high, fluffy white clouds framing the endless blue sky.

“We’re going to have so much fun!” Jubilee cheers, closing the car door as she slides out of the Jeep. 

Jean and Scott step out of their car, parked just up ahead, unloading their bags. “It’s so nice of the Professor to give us the weekend off!” Jean says excitedly, placing her bag down onto the sidewalk and wheeling it up to the porch of the house. “I can’t believe he rented this place for us.” It’s a yellow, two-story cottage with a lemonade porch, adorned with white shutters and a shingled roof.

Logan makes his way to the trunk of his Jeep, pulling out bag after bag. You rush to his side, reaching inside the trunk. “Let me help you,” you mumble as the rest of the team excitedly approaches the house. 

Logan smiles and shakes his head, reaching for the same bag you are. His fingertips brush yours as he takes the bag away, your heart beating in your chest at the sudden contact. “Don’t worry, princess,” he huffs, smirking as he places the bag down in front of you. Heat rises to your chest at the nickname. “Don’t lift a finger. Go inside and check out the place.” He nods his head towards the front door and grabs another bag. 

You smile, throwing your backpack over your shoulder, grabbing two bags, and carrying them to the front door in protest. “Gonna help you anyway,” you say over your shoulder. Logan chuckles as he closes the truck, grabbing the rest of the duffle bags and following behind you. 

He meets your side as you walk through the doors. The walls are pale blue, and the bottom halves are lined with white shiplap. Beechwood covers the floors. The living room is light and airy, white curtains floating through opened windows. The kitchen is off to the side, and to the back is a large open sunroom. Just straight ahead are the stairs. 

Jean and Scott settle some groceries on the counter as Jubilee, Kurt, Rogue, and Gambit head upstairs to see the bedrooms. 

“Hey, guys?” Jubilee calls from upstairs. You can tell by the sound of her voice that something is off. “I thought the Professor said there’d be six beds.”

Jean puts away a bag of chips and steps back into the living room, following Jubilee’s voice up the steps, and disappearing as her feet hit the landing. “How many are there?” She asks, her voice muffled.

“Five,” Jubilee answers. “Three queens and two bunk beds, and Kurt and I took the bunks already.”

“That’s fine,” Jean says, shrugging her shoulders as she heads back downstairs. “We’ll all just be a little tight—closer quarters than usual.”

And that’s when it finally hits you. Three queen beds—and Kurt and Jubilee took the twin bunks. 

You’ll be sharing a room with Logan.

You turn to him and find that his eyes are already on you. “You okay sharing, princess?” He asks, nodding to the steps.

You swallow harshly, trying to mask your nervousness, hoping Logan can’t hear the way your heart beats out of your chest. “Yeah!” You say, trying to sound enthusiastic. “Totally fine with it.”

He nods, smiling softly as he walks towards the steps, his bags in his hands. You follow behind him, the wood stairs creaking with every step you take. 

Jean was not exaggerating; the upstairs of the house is extremely small. There may be four bedrooms—but bedroom is a generous title. Each room is only large enough to hold a queen bed, a single dresser, and a small nightstand on either side of the bed. There’s little to no walking room. One of the rooms—Kurt and Jubilee’s—has just a bunk bed and a nightstand, with a tiny wardrobe in the corner. In the center of the tight hallway is a bathroom with a simple sink, toilet, and a stand-up shower. 

Logan steps into the first bedroom to the left of the stairs and puts his bags down on the ground. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asks, watching as you put your bags down next to his. “I can sleep on the couch if you’re uncomfortable.”

You shake your head, walking over to the window and taking in the view of the ocean. “Don’t worry,” you say, watching kids run across the sand, trying to distract yourself from how close Logan is to you in this tiny room. “We’re adults.” You turn to face him, fighting the urge to let your eyes trail up and down his body. “We can share.” Or at least, you hope you can. 

You can handle this for a weekend. You can force down your feelings—can ignore your massive crush on Logan for seventy-two hours. That’s all this is. A weekend trip. This is doable. You’ve been through so much worse than this. 

“If you change your mind, you can let me know,” Logan says, reaching his arm out towards your shoulder. His knuckles brush against your bare skin, and you let yourself lean into his touch. He’s warm, solid, cozy—

“Let’s go to the beach!” Jubilee interrupts, Logan’s hand falling from your shoulder instantly. “We didn’t come here to sit in a house all weekend, did we?” She jumps away from the door and runs down the stairs. 

 “Kid has a point,” Logan says, shrugging his shoulders and nodding towards the door. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling widely. “Already have my bathing suit on.” Logan smiles back and grabs your wrist, tugging you into the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re sitting on the beach, watching as Jubilee and Kurt splash each other recklessly in the water. Jean sits in a chair, reading a book, while Scott lays on a beach towel, eyes likely closed behind his glasses. Rogue and Gambit walk down the shoreline, hand in hand.

Logan stands up from the beach blanket you share, tugging his beater up and over his head. “I’m going in,” he says, just to you. “Wanna come?” He reaches out his hand again, the same hand that tugged you the whole way here. You bite your lip, nerves building in your stomach again. “Come on,” Logan says, smirking. “I don’t bite.”

Your heart flutters in your chest, and you take his hand, standing up. You let go and tug your shorts down your legs. You look up at Logan as your fingertips find the hem of your tank top, his eyes trained firmly on you. Your stomach somersaults as you pull your shirt up your body, revealing your bikini top, knowing Logan is watching. 

Logan’s throat bobs as he swallows. He nods towards the ocean, wordlessly grabbing your hand again and tugging you along. 

The waves lap at your ankles, and you force yourself into the cold water. Logan seemingly has no problem at all, pulling you along from a few feet ahead. The water is already up to his hips. He looks behind at you, all wide-eyed and happy. 

“You’re not afraid, are you?” He teases, squeezing your hand tighter. Your heart drums against your ribcage at the feeling. He’s never held your hand like this. You try to shove down your feelings, to brush away how having him this close makes you feel, but nothing changes. You want him all the same. 

You take a deep breath and shake your head as the cold water barrels against the middle of your thighs. “No,” you protest. “I’m just freezing.” 

Logan smiles wider. “You gotta get all the way in!” He tugs you further, pulling you closer to him so that you’re shoulder to shoulder. You can’t tell if it’s the icy waves or your proximity to Logan that makes your heart freeze in your chest, that makes you crave the warmth of his body. You want to be close to him. You want him to pull you into his chest and hold you. 

“Do I have to?” You ask playfully, a half-smile turning up at the corner of your mouth. 

He jokingly rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he says, dropping your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist instead. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. You choke on your own breath as he guides you further into the water. “You okay?” He asks. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble, his fingertips pressing against the bare skin of your stomach. Goosebumps pebble your flesh. Finally, Logan guides you all the way into the water, up to your shoulders. It’s a surprisingly calm day—the waves easy and gentle. 

Logan lets go of your waist and treads water, slipping underneath the dark blue current and coming back up—his hair wet, drops of water dripping down his face and neck. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips at the sight. 

“Your turn,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes half shut as he swims towards you. 

Your smile drops as you swim away. Logan grabs your ankle, pulling you towards him. You yelp as he tugs you closer. You turn around and splash him playfully, freeing yourself from his grasp as he wipes the salt water off his face. 

You laugh, still backing away from Logan. He creeps forward, assessing you like an animal stalks its prey. “You’re not getting away that easy, pretty girl,” he huffs. 

What was that? Your eyes widen as those last two words repeat in your head. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice him closing the gap between the two of you. Suddenly his hands are on your hips, dragging you into his chest. 

His grip is like iron around your waist, keeping you in place, your hips pressed to his, your chests touching lightly. You don’t feel the coldness of the water anymore—you can’t feel anything except Logan. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. The world stopped long ago, his arms wrapping around your back now, pulling you closer. The playfulness of the moment disappears—this is something else, something more serious. Logan brings his face closer to yours, his lips just centimeters away. This is it, you think to yourself. The moment when everything finally changes—

“Hey!” A familiar voice calls from the beach. Logan’s eyes fall closed—an almost defeated look painting across his face. Your head whips to the sand, and the team is standing by the beach chairs. Jubilee waves you and Logan over. “We’re going to the boardwalk! Come on!”

Logan opens his eyes. You think he’s going to push you away, to let you go, but he only holds you tighter. “Give us a second!” He shouts, frustration clear in his voice. 

But Jubilee crosses her arms against her chest. Scott chuckles and walks ahead with Jean. Gambit and Rogue look at each other knowingly, and Kurt teleports to the edge of the water. 

“And just like that…” Logan murmurs, half to himself, half to you. “Moment ruined.” 

You tilt your head, the implication of his words wracking your brain. “What do you mean—” 

But Logan is pulling you along with him to the shore before you can finish asking for clarification. His arms drop from your waist, his hand grabbing yours to guide you onto the sand. He bends down, picking up your shorts and top from the beach blanket the team left out, and passing them to you. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, your hands parting as he shoves his beater up and over his head. Once you’re dressed, flip-flops and all, you join the team and make your way up to the boardwalk. 

Gambit is talking with Logan about something just ahead, trailing on and on, clearly irritating Logan, while Rogue falls back to walk with you. 

“So,” she says softly, her eyes flitting between you and Logan. “What’s going on there, sugar?” She asks, smirking. 

You furrow your brows, trying to hide your smile. “Nothing that I know of,” you say, somewhat honestly. This might be nothing—might just be a friend teasing another friend. A friend whose lips were just inches from yours, so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your face. A friend who dug his fingers into your waist to pull you closer to his—

“Nothing, huh?” She asks, snapping you back to reality. “Because I think he would’ve kissed you if Jubilee didn’t interrupt,” she whispers so only you can hear. 

Heat rises to your chest at her words. “I don’t know. We’re just friends…” You trail off. 

“We’ll see about that, sugar,” Rogue says, walking ahead, tearing Gambit away from Logan. Logan’s shoulders visibly relax once Gambit is gone, and he looks back at you, slowing his steps so that you can meet his side. 

“Hi,” he husks, smiling down at you. 

You smile back, the warmth of his hand suddenly spreading across your lower back. It’s gentle, the ghost of a touch, almost not quite there—more tentative than in the ocean when it felt like no one was watching. But it’s solid and centering all the same. 

“Let’s go on the Ferris wheel!” Jubilee suggests, holding out the ticket booklet that Jean and Scott ran ahead to buy. She tears out tickets—three for each person. Jean and Scott hold hands and walk to the front of the line. Rogue leans over to Jubilee, whispering something into her ear that makes her eyes widen. She nods and pairs off with Kurt. Rogue turns around and winks at you while Logan isn’t looking. 

You look up at him and see that he’s staring off at the sun slowly setting. Pink, orange, and red erupt in the sky, the colors blending, painting across the wispy clouds. “Looks like it’s just you and me,” you say as the others climb into the Ferris wheel gondolas in pairs. 

Logan smirks, his eyes finding yours as you approach the front of the line. “Looks like it, pretty girl,” he husks. There it is again. Pretty girl. The ride attendant slows down the wheel, and you and Logan slip inside the gondola. You think maybe he’ll sit across from you, but he sits next to you instead. 

The attendant closes the door of the gondola, and the ride starts up. Once you’re off the ground, Logan slips his arm around your shoulder, his palm warm against your bare skin. “This okay?” He asks, his lips at the shell of your ear. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, your breath catching in your throat as his thumb brushes gentle circles into your arm. You let your head rest in the crook of his neck, and he leans against you, fitting together like puzzle pieces. 

It’s silent communication—knowing, but not saying. You can feel his intention as his arm tugs you closer, his lips at the crown of your head. Your heart beats out of your chest—for the millionth time today—and you know he can hear it. 

You reach the top of the Ferris wheel and look out at the ocean, the sun hitting the water, turning the blue waves to gold. “It’s beautiful,” you mumble, the current rippling against the shore, glistening vibrantly like the ocean figured out alchemy. 

Logan chuckles softly. “I can think of something prettier, you know,” he husks, his lips still pressed into the crown of your head. Your heart thumps in your chest at his words. You lift your head, looking up at him.

His eyes meet yours, a soft smile playing upon his lips. “Logan, I—”

But the gondola comes to a sudden stop, and the door to the car swings open. You’re already back on the ground. The attendant crosses his arms, waiting for you and Logan to get out. Logan rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand and helping you back onto the boardwalk. The team is already off the ride, waiting for the two of you at the exit.

“Why don’t we play some games and then head back to the house for the night?” Scott suggests, his arm wrapped around Jean’s waist. 

Jubilee smiles widely. “Yes! I wanna play the game where you throw the lobster into the pot!”

“Gambit’s gonna win chere a prize,” Gambit drawls, tugging Rogue into his chest. “The biggest one Gambit can find.” Rogue giggles, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Jubilee and Kurt run off to the other side of the boardwalk, immediately finding the lobster-pot game. Jean and Scott follow behind, making sure they don’t get into trouble. Rogue and Gambit go out on their own, heading toward the ring toss game. 

You and Logan are left alone. Again. Surely everyone is doing this on purpose. “What do you wanna play?” You ask, nodding towards the array of games lined up on the opposite side of the boardwalk. 

His eyes meet yours, flitting down to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “Whatever you want, darlin’.” You smile, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards balloon darts. 

You approach the booth, and Logan pulls out his wallet, handing a five-dollar bill to the woman running the game. She slides a cup of five darts towards you and Logan, and steps off to the side, away from the balloons. Logan watches as you grab a dart and throw, completely missing the balloon you were aiming for. You groan, rolling your eyes, and grab another dart. 

“Here,” Logan rasps, standing behind you. He holds your hand in his, lining the dart up to a balloon. His other arm wraps around your waist, the front of his hips pressing into your back. “Like this,” he murmurs, pulling your hand back. You let go of the dart when he thrusts forward. The dart pierces a balloon, the pop echoing through the booth. 

You look up at him, his face close to yours, and smile. He grabs another dart, his eyes still focused on you, and throws without looking away, popping another balloon. “Now you’re just showing off,” you say teasingly as your smile grows wider. He grabs another dart, aiming at a bigger balloon this time, and pierces it with ease. 

“Gotta win you a prize, pretty girl,” he says, grabbing the last dart from the cup, and tossing it across the booth, directly into the biggest balloon on the board. It pops—of course—and the game attendant’s jaw drops. 

She shakes her head, walking over to the bigger prizes. “Never seen anyone do that before…” she trails off, pointing to the giant plushies. “You can pick any of these.”

Logan’s arm sneakily wraps around your waist as he waits for you to pick between a giant fox, panda, or dolphin. “The fox, definitely the fox,” you decide. 

The attendant grabs the fox and pulls it down, handing it to you. You squeeze it to your chest, Logan’s grip on your waist tightening. “He’s so cute!” You giggle, looking up at Logan, who’s guiding you towards the edge of the boardwalk. “Thank you,” you say softly.

He shakes his head and looks out towards the water. “It was nothing,” he says, his arm still around your waist as you lean against the railing of the boardwalk. The sun is falling behind the horizon, stars rising in the sky. 

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he turns to face you. “Listen…” He starts, his jaw working as his grip on your waist falls away, his forearms bracing on the railing. Your shoulder presses against his, the tension between you palpable. “I’ve been thinking…” But he pauses again, his eyes searching yours. 

“We ready to head back to the house?” Scott asks, interrupting the conversation. Logan’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and he leans forward. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Logan mutters, thinking you can’t hear him, resting his head against the railing. 

Jubilee grabs your arm, holding up her little stuffed teddy bear. “Look what I won!” Her smile drops when she sees your giant fox. “Oh my god, my bear is nothing compared to that! That thing is massive!”

You smirk, glancing over at Logan. “Wouldn’t have gotten it if it wasn’t for him.” Logan lifts his head and smiles sheepishly at you. 

The moon rises high in the quickly darkening sky. You’re not quite sure where the day went. Everything happened so quickly—the hours spent on the sand, Logan tugging you into the water. It was perfect. Beyond perfect. And now it was time to head back. 

The team treks down the boardwalk and onto the street, trailing a few blocks before arriving back at the house. You and Logan walk shoulder to shoulder the whole way there, leading at the front of the group. Logan grabs the key from his pocket, unlocks the door, and you all head inside. 

Jubilee and Kurt run into the kitchen scavenging for snacks. Gambit and Rogue crash onto the living room couch. 

“We’re gonna head to bed,” Scott says, Jean following him up the stairs. “Night, guys.” Everyone mutters soft goodnights in response, and a comfortable silence falls upon the house. 

“Gonna steal the upstairs shower before they get to it,” you whisper to Logan, nodding to Jubilee and Kurt. 

He smirks. “I’ll shower down here,” he says back. “See you upstairs?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you answer, suddenly remembering that you’re sharing not just a room with Logan, but a bed. You walk away and head upstairs, grabbing your pajamas from your duffle bag and making your way to the bathroom.

You turn on the water and undress. The shower is warm and relaxing, releasing the tension you had spent the entire day holding in. But the peace is temporary—your thoughts drift off to Logan. You imagine him sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless, waiting for you to join him. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you try to ignore the heat growing at the bottom of your belly. Maybe you should’ve taken a cold shower instead. 

You finish up in the shower, turning the water off and grabbing a towel. You reach for your pajamas, only to realize you forgot your bottoms and your bra. You step into your panties and shrug your oversized band t-shirt over your head. You push the bathroom door open just a crack, and seeing no one in the hallway, you make a break for it, tip-toeing to your room. You slip inside and shut the door. 

Logan coughs from behind you, and you whip around. “S-sorry,” he stutters, standing up from the edge of the bed. He’s shirtless, just like you imagined he’d be, wearing only a pair of boxers. His hair is still damp from his shower. “I didn’t mean to—”

You cut him off. “No, no,” you assure. “It’s totally fine.” You’re worried you sound too eager, too focused on making sure he stays. You clear your throat nervously, stepping towards your duffle bag. You lean down, hoping your t-shirt is still covering your ass as you rifle through your belongings. You groan when you finally realize you forgot to pack pajama shorts. You stand up and make your way around to the left side of the bed.

“Everything okay?” Logan asks, following suit and walking to the right side of the bed. 

“Yeah,” you say. “I, um…” You trail off, motioning towards your duffle bag. “I forgot pajama bottoms,” you finally spit out. “If you’re uncomfortable or—”

“No,” Logan cuts you off this time. “I’m not uncomfortable at all.”

You smile, climbing into the bed and slipping under the covers, and Logan does the same. He rolls onto his side and turns off the lamp—the only light on in the room. The space is engulfed in darkness save for the pale light of the moon pushing through the curtains. 

You take a deep breath; you’re more nervous than you can comprehend. You could simply turn away from Logan, but you’re too anxious to move. Your stomach somersaults as his knee brushes against your thigh. You force your eyes shut, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. 

“I can hear your heartbeat, you know,” Logan mumbles into the dark room, shuffling under the covers. “You okay?”

You swallow harshly, humming a soft mhm, too distracted to form a complete sentence. 

“I know you aren’t telling the truth, pretty girl,” Logan whispers, his hand finding your waist. “I can sleep on the couch, if you—”

“No,” you protest, the words escaping your lips almost uncontrollably. “It’s f-fine,” you stammer. “I’m fine.”

He chuckles darkly. “Then what’s got you so worked up, huh?” Oh. He knows. He has to know. You can hear it in his voice. 

“N-nothing,” you lie, your eyes fluttering open. Logan is closer to you now, his fingertips trailing down to your thighs, to the hem of your shirt. 

“Relax,” Logan husks, his hand slipping back up your body and settling on your waist. He tugs you closer to him. “This okay?” He asks, and you hum a quiet yes. You can feel the tension thickening, feel it readying to snap. He breaks the silence. “Thought about this all day, you know.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. “Th-this?” You ask, your legs tangling with his. 

“Being alone with you,” Logan rasps. Your shirt hikes up as he pulls you into his chest. “Wanted to get you alone earlier,” he says, his hand sliding back down your body, playing with the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath. His fingertips drag along your stomach. 

You curse under your breath, Logan’s forehead pressing against yours. “Logan,” you whisper, his name the only thing you can think of. You’re sure he can smell the arousal building between your thighs. 

“There’s no going back from this. You know that, don’t you?” He whispers, his breath hot against your lips. He’s so close, his thigh pushing between your legs, bumping against your core. 

“Yes,” you sigh. “Don’t wanna go back.” 

Your eyes flutter closed, overwhelmed by how close Logan is to you. “Good,” he breathes. “Because you have no idea how much I need you.” 

His lips crash against yours, his thigh dragging along your core. You moan into his mouth, his tongue swiping across your lower lip. You part your lips, inviting him inside, his tongue tasting yours. 

“Logan,” you whine, involuntarily bucking your hips, grinding down on his thigh. “N-need you too.”

“I know, beautiful,” he soothes, gripping your waist, rolling you onto your back, pushing you into the mattress. “Fucking thought about you all day, always thinking about you.” He slides your shirt up above your tits, drinking you in with his eyes. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl.” He hovers over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand explores your body.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he palms your left breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and then doing the same to the other side. It’s dizzying having him this close. You can smell his body wash—notes of musk and pine and a hint of leather on his skin. 

“Please,” you beg, not quite sure what you’re even begging for. All you know is how badly you want him—need him. 

Logan buries his face into the crook of your neck as his thumb rolls over your nipple, biting down on your pulse point and sucking the sensitive skin between his lips. “Please what, darlin’?” He mumbles, continuing his assault on your neck. 

“F-fuck,” you whimper, your hips rocking against Logan’s. “W-want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? That what you want?” Logan teases, his hand pushing between your legs, his fingertips finding your clit through your panties. “What if I wanted to taste you first?”

“W-whatever you want,” you moan, grinding down onto his hand. “I’m yours.”

He lifts his head from your neck and presses his forehead to yours. “Whatever I want?” His voice is thick, cocky, almost mocking. “You’re mine,” he husks, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck. “All fucking mine.” He crawls down your body, trailing kisses down the valley of your breasts, your stomach, stopping just above the hem of your panties. 

Your hips lift off the mattress as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and he tugs them down your legs, throwing them to the floor. He nestles between your thighs, his breath hot against your cunt. You tremble in anticipation, watching as he breathes you in, his jaw working. You can see in his eyes that he’s holding himself back. 

“Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice suddenly soft, his cockiness replaced by genuine care. "Not gonna be able to stop once I start.” But you know he doesn’t just mean in the moment, right now—he means forever. 

“I’m sure, Lo,” you whine. It comes out like a prayer, like a desperate cry, a guilty plea. 

And then he buries his face into your heat, his tongue swiping through your folds. He grunts against you, flicking your clit before stroking his tongue through your folds again. “Fuck,” Logan groans, his face pressing harder into you, his tongue exploring your cunt. “Tastes better than I ever imagined,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his voice pulsing against your core. “So fucking sweet.”

Your hips jolt away from him as his tongue laps at your sensitive clit. His palms quickly slide under your legs, wrapping around your thighs, yanking you back to his face, and holding you down onto the mattress. “Don’t move, princess,” he chides, his nails digging into your flesh. “Wanna eat this pretty pussy.” 

“L-Lo,” you stutter as his tongue draws tight, rapid circles around your clit. You’re already close, his teasing words enough to push you over the edge. But you know he’s nowhere near done—he’s only getting started. 

His right hand loosens its grip around your thigh, his nails dragging down the curve of your ass and towards your folds. His fingertips prod your slit, spreading your slick. “So fucking wet for me, pretty girl,” he praises, his lips wrapping around your clit, his teeth grazing the bud lightly as he sucks. “Want my fingers?” He asks, knowing your answer, but wanting to hear you beg for him. 

“Yes, Logan, please. Need—” 

He’s thrusting two long, thick fingers deep inside you before you can finish your sentence. “Fuck,” he whispers, pulling out and pumping back in—down to his knuckles. He stills inside you, letting you adjust to him. “So goddamn tight.” His tongue laps at your clit. “Gonna have to work you open for me, hm?” He mutters, thrusting in and out now. 

You’re so overwhelmed, your swollen clit already overstimulated. He wraps his lips around your clit again, sucking harder this time, his fingers unrelenting as they plunge deeper with every pump. His tongue draws long, hard strokes around your bud, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

It feels like a wildfire is spreading through your veins, a current dragging you under and holding you down. Warmth blossoms in your belly. “Doing so good for me, beautiful,” Logan praises, his fingers fucking into you. Your walls flutter around him at his words, sucking him in deeper. “Know you’re close, pretty girl.”

“Logan,” you moan, his tongue drawing those tight circles around your clit again. He’s adding more pressure, his fingers dragging along your walls, scissoring inside you, splitting you in two. “Please, need to come…” You trail off, your back arching off the mattress, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

“Come for me,” Logan demands, his voice dark and filled with lust. “Wanna know what it tastes like.” His tongue presses harder into your clit, his fingers rocking in and out of your entrance. “Wanna see that pretty face when you let go.” 

And then the tension breaks, white-hot heat pouring freely from the bottom of your belly. Your vision goes blurry as Logan laps at your clit, his fingers still pumping in and out, working you through your high. You moan his name, pleasure ripping through your body in intense waves. 

His pumps relax, his fingers stilling inside you before he finally pulls out. His face is still buried against your cunt, licking long stripes through your folds. He’s savoring the taste of your release, drinking every last drop you have to give. “Can’t get enough of you,” he husks. “Could do this forever.” 

He licks one last long stripe through your folds before lifting his face from your cunt. He’s a mess—your release glistening on his chin, his hair disheveled, his boxers all wrinkled. Your heart beats in your chest at the sight. All this, just for you. 

Logan crawls up your body, hovering over you again, lowering down onto his forearm. “Wanna fuck you, beautiful,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing to yours. “Wanna know what you feel like.” His hand slips between your legs, his fingertips finding your swollen clit and giving it a gentle pinch. Your hips buck against him at the sudden sensation. 

“Wanna feel you too,” you whimper, your arms wrapping around his back. “Want you inside me, please.” 

And then he’s tugging his boxers down his legs, his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh. You can’t see—but you can feel just how massive he is. His tip slides through your folds, spreading your arousal. 

“You know how bad I need you?” Logan whispers, his lips finding yours. He bites your lower lip and kisses away the pain. “You know how long I’ve been thinking about this?” And then he sinks himself inside you, down to the hilt with one smooth, fluid thrust. “Thought about this every day since I met you.” 

Your muscles release and contract at his words. His hips stall, letting you adjust to the size of him. You feel indescribably full. He’s splitting you open, stretching you out, claiming you as his. His hips pull back, his cock sliding out, and he plunges back in, somehow deeper this time. 

“Th-thought about you too,” you stutter, already too fucked out to form a coherent thought. “Always wanted you.” Logan sets a reckless pace as his fingertips find your clit again, working long, languid strokes into the bud, teasing you, leading you on. 

“You feel so perfect,” Logan praises, rocking into you, his cock dragging along your walls. “So fucking warm, so tight. Made for me.” His lips are on yours again, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting you, swallowing your moans. “Never gonna want anybody else, pretty girl.”

His hips snap against yours, his fingers circling your clit faster now. “Just want you, Lo,” you choke, the tension building at the bottom of your belly, a fire burning through your bones. “Only want you.”

“I know,” he whispers, his voice suddenly soft, contrasting with the way he pounds into you recklessly, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every pump of his cock. “It’s you, just you.” You can hear the emotion in his voice, the sincerity, the desperation, the aching longing. 

Your chest heaves against his. He’s fucking you to get closer to you, to be as deep inside you as possible. This isn’t just sex—this isn’t just some tension that needs to be broken. It’s an invisible string keeping the two of you tied closely together. Maybe it was stitched by the Fates centuries ago, laid out carefully, a plan to be executed. Maybe everything that led you to this moment was always meant to be. Because here you are now, his lips soft and hungry against yours, his words tearing through your resolve, his cock buried deep inside you, searching for a way to get deeper. And all you can think is…

This is it. This is what people mean when they talk about love—that word that changes its meaning every time you say it. The word with a definition that always escapes you. You know what it means now. 

“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, that fire in your belly spreading through your body as he rams into you, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing along the walls of the tiny room. His fingers press harder into your clit, pinching softly, and then circling again. 

His cock twitches inside you. “Me too, beautiful,” he hums, his pace growing sloppier, his cock throbbing again. “You’re so perfect,” he praises. “Love you so much, pretty girl.”

And then the tension snaps, electricity buzzing through your nerve endings, fire prickling your skin as you melt into him. “Love you too, Lo.” Your muscles contract and release, squeezing around him, coming undone. 

Your walls clench around him again, and you know it’ll be the thing that pushes him over the edge. “Fuck, wanna come inside you,” he pants.

You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close. “Please,” you beg, and with one more thrust he’s painting your walls, filling you up and letting go. 

You share one breath, panting, foreheads pressed together as Logan’s pumps slow, his cock stalling inside you. His fingers slip away from your clit, his arms reaching under your back as he carefully pulls out. You feel empty without him inside you. 

“Y-you can stay inside, if you want,” you offer as Logan rolls you onto your side, pulling you into his chest. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Is that what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his lips pressing to your nose now. 

“Yes,” you whisper. He swallows harshly as one of his hands slides down your body, hiking your leg up and over his hip. He lines his half-hard cock up with your entrance, his lips finding yours as he slides back in. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of being full of him again. 

He groans as he bottoms out. “So fucking good,” he praises, his arms wrapping around your back again, tugging you into his chest. 

You lay in comfortable silence, listening as Logan’s breathing becomes rhythmic. Your eyes grow heavy, and you bury your face into Logan’s chest. You can hear his heart beating.

“Love you,” he mumbles against the crown of your head. You can hear the sleepiness in his voice, the exhaustion. 

“Love you too,” you whisper, your breathing matching his, like you’re no longer two separate people, but one.

He presses a kiss to your head. “So lucky I met you,” he huffs. You smile against him. “So lucky I finally figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” You ask, looking up at him. 

He smiles down at you. “What love is supposed to feel like...” He trails off, and you watch as he chooses his next words. “What living is supposed to feel like.” 

You can feel tears brimming in the corners of your eyes, and you do your best to blink them away. “Me too, Lo,” you whisper, pausing…

“Me too.”

tags: @wittyjasontodd @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @figsnpassionfruits @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @fanfic-writing-barbie @pedrohoe04 @cosmiccandydreamer @movhoney @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @maniuplatour *as always, I'm so sorry if I forgot to tag you*

[saintobio]

HEARTBEAT.

when entering the second trimester of your pregnancy also brings along an increase in sex drive that you never saw coming. and with sylus being the father of your baby, you knew he isn't one to deny you of such pleasures.

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. fluff, pwp, established relationship, 18+

♱ tags. baby daddy!sylus, pregnant!reader, profanity, pregnant sex, petnames (darling, honey, baby doll, kitten), daddy kink, breeding kink, spit as lube, biting, mentions of impregnation, creampie

♱ notes. i have many fics lined up for him omg so down bad for this man like there's no saving me T^T reblogs appreciated!

“S-Sylus—!” 

“Did I ask you to stop, kitten?” 

If you weren’t already 4-months pregnant, you knew it best that you would be able to move your body more fluidly on top of his. But carrying his baby had its accompanying struggles too—the first struggle being your belly getting heavier and heavier each day. Your waist also felt more firm than usual. And your breasts, although he loved the sight of their larger size, were often too sore and sensitive to touch. There were problems of heartburn, frequent urination, and constipation, too. And also mood swings, intense cravings, headaches, and back pains. 

But as your body adjusted to his growing baby, Sylus’s most favorite thing in your pregnancy was the fact that his child’s mother had an insatiable increase in libido. It was at a point where you couldn’t control it anymore. Your sex drive just jumped way higher than his, and he had to deal with your constant need for him to release that sexual gratification you had been longing for. Not that he was complaining.

“You’re the one who wanted to ride me, honey.” His teasing continued as he placed an arm behind his head, his back casually leaning against the headboard while you straddled him. He used the other hand to firmly grip your waist, guiding you to grind on him nice and slow. “Tired already?”

“N-No.” You rolled your hips against his to find the rhythm you wanted, but it was getting agonizing how difficult it was to hit your g-spot the way he would if he was the one moving. “Mmh—! Can you… can you move for me?” 

His crimson eyes darkened in amusement. “No can do, baby doll.” 

“Please…” you begged, moaning as you desperately rocked your body against his crotch. You tried lifting yourself up to bounce on his hardened shaft, but that required too much physical exertion on your side. “Aah—ah! I-I can’t do it…” 

Sylus raked his long fingers through his Arctic white hair before he repositioned himself better, almost sitting up as he secured both hands on your hips. “You’ve been treating me like a dildo for a week,” he quipped, laughing at his own words while your cheeks were heating up from embarrassment. “Now, you’re too lazy to move on your own?”

Your desperation got the best of you when you pulled his hair and glared at him. “I would if my belly wasn’t so heavy!” 

Yet, your dominating presence only ignited his teasing even more. “Actions have consequences, sweetie. Always begging to have me cum inside you resulted in that baby,” he said with a roguish grin, brushing his lips against your shoulder before biting on the soft skin. “I don’t mind it, though. At least, there’s something that ties us both forever now.” 

“Y-You talk too much,” you retorted, growing more and more impatient with the way you were moving your hips in circles. You could feel your pussy stretching to accommodate his thick girth, but you knew you still weren’t deep enough to feel the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot. He had to do something. Something. Some… thing! “Ngh! Sy… please. I want you. Now.” 

“Throwing tantrums, aren’t we?” His deep chuckle resonated in your ears before he finally gave in, squeezing your sore tits with his large, manly hands, and playing with your nipple with the movements of his tongue. You whimpered from his touch, but allowed yourself to lean further into him, your back arching as he held your body in his arms. With his mouth now sucking one tit, he kneaded the other and gave it the same attention while you were a moaning mess on top of him. 

“Sylus.” 

He released your tit from his mouth, his saliva coating your breast as his carmine eyes looked up at you with a wanton gaze. “Yes, honey?” 

“Fuck me already…” you pleaded with desperate eyes, feeling the surge of hormonal tears beginning to pool in them. “Why do you keep tormenting me like this? D-Do you hate me? Do y-you not want me anymore?” 

The man closed his eyes for a moment, his chest vibrating with deep laughter that echoed through the walls of his dimly-lit bedroom. But he had been here before. He knew how to deal with you when your hormones were about to fully take over, so right as you were going to pull yourself away from him, he had already caged you in his arms, flipping you over in a position where he was the one in control now. 

“Such a spoiled little kitty you are,” he mumbled with a scoff, lying you carefully on your back and spreading your legs open so he could have access to your entrance. You could feel your heartbeat quickening as Sylus looked down at you with a lustful stare, like a predator about to devour his prey, before he leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours. You two were already too familiar with the movements of each other’s mouths, already in perfect sync with the way you would roll your tongue around his. His tongue loved to explore your mouth roughly, biting your lower lip in between as he deepened the kiss. 

It was deep enough that you had to place your weak hands against his toned chest, slightly pushing him off to catch your breath. “Haah… Can’t breathe.” 

Sylus smiled at your weakened state and took it as an opportunity to pull away and stroke his entire length. He ejected spit from his mouth and used it to rub his cock, coating every inch before teasing your entrance with his swollen pink tip. Insane. It was driving you insane. You could hear the squelching sound on your slit as he slid his member in between your labia, making you clench your insides in desperation to have him. “What’s the magic word?” he playfully asked while slapping your pussy with his thick, veiny cock. “Hm?”

“Please…” 

“Wrong. Try again.” 

“Please, daddy?” 

A loud, breathy whimper then escaped your lips as he suddenly buried his entire length in a forceful thrust. Your walls tightened around his cock as he began jolting his hips forward, plowing his member in and out of your sopping cunt just as you had been asking for. He watched with titillating eyes how your breasts jiggled with every thrust, and went absolutely crazy when you reached for his hand and started sucking on his fingers.

“Hah—haaah! Mm… D-Daddy—!” 

He clearly enjoyed the image of ecstasy on your face, so he stimulated you further by rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Good, kitten. Cum for daddy.” 

With your thighs held on both sides by him, you placed a hand on your belly and the other gripping the sheets as he continued to ram his member inside your pussy at an animalistic speed. All sorts of noise were ricocheting across the room; the skin-slapping, the squelch, the moans and whimpers, the bed squeaks. 

“H-Harder, daddy. Please—!”

“You like daddy’s cock?”

“Mmh. Yes! Can’t… get… enough.”

Sylus planted a tender kiss on your thigh, still chasing his own seventh heaven by abusing your tight cunt with his monstrous size. The moment he felt your legs shaking, he knew he succeeded. You were already at the brink of losing your sanity, your mind breaking as you raised your hips so he could fuck you harder and faster.

“You really like it hard and fast, baby doll,” he muttered in a raspy voice, never once stopping from his merciless thrust inside you. This man. This sexy bastard right here was the father of your child. And goddamn was he the hottest man you had ever seen in your life.   

“Sy, I-I’m g-gonna—!” You held back a moan, but couldn’t contain it the moment the tip of his cock started hitting that sensitive spot inside you. One time, two times, three times. On the third thrust, you could feel a familiar coil on your lower abdomen, like your insides were being twisted painfully good. And before you knew it, your body was already twitching. Your legs were uncontrollably shaking. Your breath, unstable. You couldn’t open your eyes because you were too absorbed by your orgasm, not realizing that Sylus’s own guttural moans were a sign of his own climax, too. 

As he let out a deep grunt, you could feel spurts of seed filling your core. It even seeped out as he pulled out, watching his own cum dripping down your pussy. “You look beautiful, honey.” 

You were way too sore to move. The sudden decrease in energy left you frozen in bed, leaving it to Sylus to do all the post-sex cleaning and wiping. The room itself smelled of sex, your scents mixing together to make an intoxicating smell. You didn’t even notice he’d brought you a glass of water by the time you opened your eyes again, your breath now more stable as he slipped into bed next to you. 

“Thank you, my love,” you said, returning the glass of water and pulling the duvet to cover your body. “Cuddle with me, please?” 

“Anything for my darling.” After placing the glass on the nightstand, he turned to you and held you in his arms, letting you trace his rock-hard abs with your shaky fingers. “How do you feel? Satisfied?”

You gave him a sheepish grin before nuzzling your nose into his neck. His scent could surely get you drunk if you continued to sniff him. “For now.” 

Chuckling lightly, he rubbed your back with a tender hand. “Any late-night cravings? Fruits? PB&J?” 

“You are,” was your playful reply, “my only craving for tonight.” 

The proud grin on Sylus’s face couldn’t be easily erased. “You hear that, son?” he suddenly said, moving his hand to rub your belly. “It’s getting hard to ‘match mommy’s freak’ nowadays.” 

You laughed at his unusual yet familiar choice of words. “First of all, where did you learn that line?” you asked, propping an elbow to look at his handsome face. “Secondly, how are you sure it’s a baby boy?” 

“I just know.” He simply shrugged, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. He then lifted your chin with his fingers, then placed a soft kiss on your lips. “They say doggy gets you a boy.” 

Two wide eyes stared at his crimson ones. “I knew it!” you exclaimed, pinching his nose. “I knew you were trying to get me pregnant that night.” 

He tried to hide his smile by moving his head towards your bump, planting a gentle kiss on your belly before pressing his ear against it. “You act like you didn’t beg me to knock you up,” he countered with a challenging smirk, “Can you handle having a mini-me pestering you every single day, kitten?” 

Instead of teasing him back, your heart melted at the thought of having your own little Sylus running around the house. No doubt your baby would inherit his father’s mischievous nature and be endlessly spoiled by his uncles, Luke and Kieran. You could imagine your child would have his dad’s hair, eyes, and nose. “My baby!” you swooned, caressing your belly and hoping he could feel your motherly touch. “I can’t wait to meet you soon.”

“I’m really going to be a dad, huh?” Sylus’s loving gaze made your heart swell inside. “I’d destroy the world for you two.”

You ran your fingers through his hair and shook your head with a smile. “Yeah, I know you will.”

[chleem]

Rest of my life

One shot: bf drew x gf yn

Summary: babysitting drew’s niece leads to the realization that you’re the one for him.  

Genre: established relationship, fluff

Warnings: so sweet u get cavities

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Which girl did you knock up?” 

Is the first thing you say upon entering Drew’s apartment, your eyes landing on Drew, who has a baby securely strapped against his stomach in a white carrier, the baby looking over at you with doe eyes. 

Drew freezes for a second, then shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he sets a large bag down on the kitchen table. "Oh, y’know, some girl I met on set."

There’s a reason why you and Drew are perfect for each other; the playful banter comes so naturally between you two that it feels like breathing, like there’s no awkwardness in this situation; finding Drew with a baby you’ve never seen before. 

Although, this baby looks oddly familiar. 

“Remember Lils?” Drew asks, as you walk over to him, setting your own bag on the table as well. 

Your eyes light up at the name, recalling the times Drew would show you pictures of his niece. “Oh hi,” you immediately pitch your voice higher, making it soft and playful. The baby, with her big, curious eyes, reaches out her tiny hand, and before you even know it, she’s grabbing onto your finger. 

Her little grip is surprisingly strong, and you can’t help but smile at how adorable she is. “She grew so big,” you comment, looking up at Drew. 

He’s got a soft smile on his lips. “I’know, and I got her for the whole day.”

Your raise an eyebrow playfully at him, “I thought we’re going to the beach today.”

“Yeah, we are,” he emphasizes on that word, his eyes bouncing back between him and Lil. 

Lil lets go of your hand, so you cross your arms at Drew. You roll your eyes, yet the grin on your face gives away your amusement. “Fine. I won’t rob you of your uncle-niece time.”

A chuckle escapes Drew’s lips, and he brings you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your waist. “Lil says it’s okay for you to be there,” his voice, low and playful, as he plants a kiss on your jaw. “Third wheel, you okay with that?”

“Delightful,” you try to sound annoyed at that idea, but really, you looked forward to it. 

Originally, it was a beach date with Drew, but his sister must’ve had some emergency, leading to the sudden babysit. You had no idea that it was going to turn out like this, but you don’t mind. 

Besides, it gives you a chance to see what uncle Drew is like. 

“Aww, don’t be jealous,” he teases, rubbing your elbow, a habit he’s grown into since knowing you. 

“I could never compete with this girl,” you smile down at Lil, whose lips slowly forms an O. You coo at her, playing with her little adorable fingers.

Drew glances down at his watch, snapping you out of the little world you’ve absorbed yourself with Lil in only a few seconds. “Hotdog stand might close. Let’s go.”

“I’m trying the taco one!” You happily chirp, remembering how the last time you went there, a long argument between the two of you resulted in you getting the pizza flavored hot dog. 

“Alright, alright,” Drew assures, taking both of the bags off the table. 

You make an attempt to grab at least one bag from him, but he declines, carrying it all the way to the car himself. 

——

Unknowingly, the whole day at the beach has passed. 

Drew had been so focused on spending time with his niece, he didn’t even notice the way the sky changed. One moment, they were splashing in the shallow waves, building sandcastles, the next, the sun was dipping low.

He walks back to the beach with hotdogs in his hands; buying the snacks now since the crowd has disappeared. 

He replays scenes of today in his mind, thinking about how easy it’s been today. How effortless it felt, spending time with you and Lil. He’d watched you interact with his niece all afternoon—how you encouraged her to explore the sand, showing her the little crabs skittering along the shoreline etc. 

And now, as he makes his way back, he can’t shake the image of you laughing with Lil, your face lighting up when the baby made a funny sound or reached out for you.

He reaches the blanket that the two of you had spread out earlier on the sand, and he glances over your shoulder, expecting to see you playing with Lil. 

Instead, he freezes. 

There you are, holding his niece in your arms. Lil’s fast asleep, her little body relaxed against your chest. 

Drew’s first thought is how cute his niece is. 

His eyes then drift over to you; And that’s when it hits him.

The realization of this moment, the quiet way you’re holding his baby niece, strikes him. His heart skips a beat as he watches you, a quiet warmth flooding his chest. 

The sight of you with her, so natural, so right, feels more profound than anything he expected.

What is this feeling? He thinks.

He tries to shake it off. It’s not just about Lil. It’s about you, the way you make everything feel so simple, so easy. He never expected to see you like this, to see you so gentle, so present.

Is this what love feels like? He doesn’t know. But in that moment, staring at the two of you, something in him clicks. He doesn’t have a name for it yet, but it’s there—this pull, this feeling that maybe, just maybe, everything he thought he wanted was right here in front of him.

“Drew?” 

Your voice is gentle and soft as you call out for him, afraid to wake the baby up. 

Your gaze meets his, and for a second, the world feels smaller. His heart skips again, mind racing around as he scrambles for words in his mind. 

“Hey,” he manages to breathe out, sitting down beside you. He’s careful with his movements, even when handing you your hotdog to your free hand. His lips curl into a soft smile,  almost shy, “she’s out cold, huh?”

He watches as you completely ignore his words, biting down on the hotdog you’ve been waiting for for the whole day. His smile grows; his mind reminded of how easy it is to be around you. It’s not that you’ve said much or done anything extraordinary—just the way you seem to savor the simple things, like food, time spent together—it draws him in every time.

“Good?” Drew asks, teasing hinted in his voice, yet his eyes soften as he waits for your answer. 

“Strange. The pizza flavor’s better,” you comment through chews. 

Laughter erupts in his chest, making you look confusingly at him. You swallow, looking at him with doe eyes. “Let me take her,” he says, his hands reaching for his niece. 

You let him, mainly because of how hungry you are. The exchange is smooth; he now holds Lil in his arms, and you hold onto the two hotdogs, eating away one of them. 

“Y/n?”

You quickly finish the bite, humming at Drew continue talking. He’s looking at you with a soft gaze, almost smitten. He calls for your name, but doesn’t say anything. 

“You want a bite?” You ask, filling in the silence. 

Drew chuckles, and with his free hand, he pulls you by the back of your neck closer to him. He kisses you, slow and soft. You relax under his touch, letting the warm and bubbly feeling flow through you. 

You eventually pull away, needing to catch your breath. Drew’s lips are apart as he stares at you; the look in his eyes making it hard to steady your heartbeat. 

For seconds that felt like minutes, silence lingers between you two, eyes locked into each others’ as if any move, would disturb the calmness of this moment. 

Well, the moment is disturbed, because the smell of poop enters the air, as well as the sound of crying. 

Lil's awake, and in a stinky emergency.

You’re the first to pull away, chuckling as you glance down at Lil. “Shit.”

“Yup,” he purses his lips. You get ready to put the hotdogs down, wanting to help change her diapers, when Drew stops you. “I’ll do it.”

“Do I even have the appetite anymore?” You joke, the smile reappearing on Drew’s lips after hearing that. 

“When do you not?” He comments, setting Lil down and reaching for the diaper bag. 

You hit his arm playfully again, laughter coming out of you. You turn and look out onto the ocean waves, putting the hotdogs down to the side.

This moment right here? You want to remember it always. Remember this beach, this adorable little baby, this hotdog (just important as everything else), and this man, that you’ve found yourself to rely on more than you should. 

You hope Drew feels the same way too; that this moment right now, will forever be engraved in your heart. 

Little did you know; it's already engraved in his, as the moment he fell in love with you. 

The moment he realized, that you’re who he wants for the rest of his life. 

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word count: 1.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: my first time writing something of pure fluff...hope you enjoyed reading! i was in the mode for something sweet, craving a bf real bad T_T

and yes, im a creep that stalked his sister's ig to find the name of his niece. im sorry im sorry im sorry