#i am so sorry but i can't bear that alone

[le-panda-chocovore]

I'm on the way to my dentist appointment and I thought about SatoSugu (as usual). And I have no idea what the fuck was wrong with my brain but I imagined if Suguru arrived to the Cult's place after Shoko healed him and found Satoru's body near Riko's. Like, what if Satoru didn't manage to understand the reverse cursed technique and really died ? What if Suguru lost his one and only ? What if Toji really won ?

I immediately started crying on the street (and I'm still trying to stop the tears) because WHY WOULD I THINK ABOUT THAT ??

[hipipi]

.

[sturnioz]

"don't feel nothin' towards the kid" huh. well maybe shy!reader overheard him say that n gets rlly sad bc she's falling for him :(( n when fratboy!chris tries to talk to her she shuts down because she thinks he doesn't like her :/ idk i'm hungry for some angst

note. kinda went long n angsty on this one. i am sorry (im not actually im really not)

you shouldn't be upset. truthfully, a part of you knows you have no right to feel this way. your friend had warned you from the start that chris wasn't the relationship type — that he prefers meaningless hook-ups over commitments and feelings.

but hearing him say it blatantly out loud, it stung, tearing through you like a jagged knife. the weight of his words settled on you heavily, each syllable echoing in your mind, and you felt your sensitive heart shatter into pieces., leaving a hallow ache in your chest and a lump in your throat, tight and suffocating.

your tears were already spilling over and dripping down your cheeks as you solemnly turn around make your way back up to his room, the dim light of the hallway making you feel even more suffocated. you wanted to go leave, to go home to the comfort of your own room, but your car wasn't here and the darkness outside was too frightening for you to walk alone.

you sank down onto the bed, pulling at a loose thread on your sweater, each tug a desperate attempt to distract yourself from your emotions, but quiet sniffles followed by deeper sobs only reminded you of what just happened.

in that moment, you felt stupid, pathetic, like a complete loser for ever hoping for something more — for hoping you could change him. but of course, that only ever happens in the movie, and unfortunately your life is anything but. how could you be so naïve?

you are alone with your thoughts for a little while longer, drowning in your own pitifulness, when the bedroom door creaks opens. chris saunters in so casually, a simple white shirt loose on his frame and sweatpants that hang low on his hips, his hair tousled, and his eyes are clouded and faded from the joint he sparked up earlier.

you can't bear to look at him for too long — you refuse to. instead, you fixate on the wall, your gaze drifting over his posters in hopes to distract yourself as chris moves lazily around the room, rummaging through his desk drawer, the sound of coins clinking and crisp dollar bills rustling sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

"you hungry or what, kid?" he asks, scratching his cheek as he continues to dig through the mess.

it pains you how nonchalant and casual he sounds. it feels like a punch to the gut. how can he be so unfazed to the pain that he has just caused you? you shouldn't be surprised. this is who he is.

"hey. m'talkin' to you." he adds, his voice breaking through your haze.

you swallow hard, the lump in your throat refusing to budge as you still keep your eyes averted, not allowing him to see the hurt on your face. but a small sniffle escapes, and the sound immediately catches his attention. you feel the bed dip as he moves closer, fingers gripping your chin and turning your head to meet his gaze.

his eyes flick over your face, a huff leaving his lips. "what.. what's the matter with you? huh? you — you been watchin' those dumb videos again? told you not to do that, a'ight? fix your face."

chris goes to rub his thumb across your cheeks, trying to wipe away the tears, but you flinch away, opting to use your sleeve instead. his hand drops to the bed, a moment of silence hanging between you two. he shifts, tonguing at his cheek as he watches you with faded eyes that blink slowly, but studies every detail.

"what, uh.. what happened?" his concern sounds so strange to you, and it's clear it's hard for him too, judging by the way his face twitches slightly, his jaw tense. "somethin' happened to you, or what?"

you don't answer him once again, the silence stretching uncomfortably between you.

chris lets out a sigh of frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to hold back his own irritation. "look. this — this silent treatment you got goin' on right now isn't workin', yeah? it's... it's bullshit, and i can't help you if you don't talk to me, alright? so — so talk, because this silence is really startin' to piss me off—"

"i want to go home." the words escape you like a whisper, and chris' head jerks back, surprise flickering across his features.

"you.. you wanna go home — like, right now? you wanna go home right now?" chris asks you, his voice laced with disbelief. you nod slowly, hearing him scoff, his disbelief turning into frustration. "the fuck you talkin' about? you don't wanna go home, bun, you — you're stayin' here tonight, remember? with me."

"i just want to go home..."

"did you take anythin'? huh?" chris suddenly asks, grabbing your cheeks again to lift your face, his eyes probing as he examines your bloodshot gaze. "did you go through my stash while i was downstairs? is — is that why your brain is all foggy n' shit? take somethin' on the sly?"

"no! i didn't!" you whine pathetically, pushing his hand away from your face. the tears swell in your eyes again, each drop a reminder of his callous words repeating in your mind. "i want to leave, chris."

"ha..." chris breathes out, his tongue rolling across his teeth as he stares at you for a moment, the disbelief still evident on his features. then he nods, smacking his lips together. "okay, alright. then — then go. you wanna leave s'bad? go."

a flicker of relief washes over you at the thought of finally escaping and going home to be comforted by your own room, to cry as much as you please, but the idea of walking home alone in the fark fills you with dread, an unsettling knot forming in your stomach.

"get that look off your face," chris grumbles as he climbs off the bed, snatching his phone off of his bedside table. he strides over to his desk to keep a distance from you, the tension still thick in the air. "i'm callin' you an uber, then you can fuckin' go."

© STURNIOZ

[monstacheol]

𝓓𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂'𝓼 𝓗𝓸𝓶𝓮

❀Pairing: C.SC x afab! reader

❀Summary: When your husband goes on a two-week business trip, you are left alone in the comfort of your shared home until your heat hit unexpectedly. With Cheol away, you have to break this heat soon before he comes back. Turns out….he came back sooner than you thought.

❀WC: 4.3K (Originally supposed to be 2K words but I wrote too much.)

❀Warning: Dom! Alpha Seungcheol, Sub! Omega Reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe everyone), mild dirty talk, breeding, mention of a baby, pet name: (y/n): baby, princess, sweet girl; Cheol: cheol, daddy( a few time) (I'm missing out a lot. Let me know and I'll add more.)

❀Taglist: @kyeomiis @onlywonwoorideul @scoupsieee @jimintopiaaaa @gyuguys @rissepuffs04 @yawnozone

❀Notes: It has been a while since I wrote smut, especially an omegaverse one, so I don't know if this is good. I worked hard on it the best I could. Please bear with me. I am rusty and my writing style has changed. It is also proofread and edited. I edited it the best I could. So if there is any minor grammar error, I'm so sorry. If this is any good, I'll write the next prompt I had in mind. One of two or three that I have before school starts for me. So I hope you enjoy it and if it's awful (I think it is but that's my opinion because I was stressing about it for weeks), I'm so sorry and I hope to improve soon. Please comment, like, reblog for support.

You were curled up on the bed, panting, hot, and wearing nothing but your husband's t-shirt and your fingers stuffed inside as you were surrounded by your husband's clothes in your lovely nest. Your mind was lost in a daze as you could smell his scent flowing around you, leading you to fuck yourself in bliss. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten as you imagined his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, and his breath on your skin. You moan softly, feeling the intensity building up inside you. The fantasy of him being there with you pushed you over the edge, bringing you to a shuddering climax that left you breathless. But you didn't stop. You couldn't stop. You kept pumping yourself, imagining how he would do it.

How did we come to get to this point? How did this even happen? Well…

"Two weeks," you question.

Your husband nods his head as he adds, "Yes, two weeks."

A two-week business trip alone here in your home. You knew that your husband would be taking an upcoming business trip, but you didn't know it would be this long. You anticipated a few days at most, not the entire two weeks. The thought of being alone in the house for that long makes you feel a bit anxious and lonely as you pout.

"I know that look. You're pouting," Seungcheol said with a teasing smile.

In denial, you softly argue, "I'm not pouting; I'm just... not used to you being away for so long," you reply, trying to mask your disappointment. Seungcheol chuckles, knowing how much you will miss him. He then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. As I breathed in his scent of cherry and sandalwood, "It will be alright. I promise to call you every day and make it up to you when I get back," he reassured you, kissing your forehead.

You knew he was right, but what to do in a house by yourself? You and your husband have always been together. You were first college sweethearts, meeting each other through a mutual friend. Then, the moment you both graduated, he gave the sweetest proposal, and you've been inseparable ever since. But after three years of marriage, this will be the longest he has ever been away. You can't help but feel anxious about being apart for so long, but you have to make the most of it. Maybe you can hang out with your friends more often, or take Kkuma to that park she likes to go to. Perhaps you can finally finish that project you've been putting off. The possibilities are endless. He finished packing his luggage for this journey, and after he was done, you both walked to the door. You could hear tiny steps coming behind you as Kkuma followed closely. You both stopped at the entrance doorway as Kkuma sat there below your feet, looking up with those big eyes. Your husband kneeled down to pet her and show her lots of affection.

"Kkuma. Be a good girl, princess, while Daddy is away. Make sure to look out and take care of Mommy," Seungcheol cooed as he ruffled her hair, trying not to ruin the cute pink bow he placed on her head. He stood up from his kneeling position, and he turned to you, still pouting.

"You promise to call," you assert, looking up at him. Seungcheol smiled down at you, his eyes filled with love and reassurance. "Of course, I promise," he replied before kissing you.

"Don't worry, I will be back before you know it," Seungcheol assured you with a smile, grabbing your face and pecking your lips.

That was nine days ago. And now, here you are, sitting on your shared bed, surrounded by his clothes. In heat. Trying to relieve yourself before your husband returns. The first day without him was fine. You got your daily message from him, telling you how he misses you and sending you pictures, and you always responded. You even get to spend time with your friends. The second day went without a hitch as well. Then the third, then the fourth. But on the fifth day, you felt off. You sensed that something wasn't right. You felt tired. You didn't feel like yourself. You care less about eating or drinking and more about just lying down and resting. You tried to shake off the feeling, but it persisted. It was then that you realized that, you were about to go in heat. You didn't think it would happen so soon and on the day that your husband was gone. You gasp as your fingers pump inside you vigorously, the pleasure building as you give in to your body's desires. You came so many times, leaving the bed and your panties soaked with your release, but it wasn't enough. You need more. You crave for him. You need his touch. You need him.

"Cheolie," you whimper.

"Y/N," you heard.

You froze as you heard the voice you didn't expect to hear. You look up to see your husband staring there, wearing only casual clothes with a surprise on his face.

"C-Cheol. "W-What are you?"

"You're in heat, aren't you?" Seuncheol asked.

You didn't say anything, but your silence said it all for him. "My poor baby," he said as he stepped closer to you. He climbed into the bed toward you, his hand reaching out to gently touch your face.

"Left alone, all hot and bothered. Missing your Alpha so much that you made a nest out of all of his clothes. So much that you have to finger yourself just to feel a little relief. It must hurt, doesn't it?" Seungcheol said as his hand brushed through your hair.

Tears trickled down your cheeks as you nodded. "It hurts so much, Daddy," you said as you reached out, clutching his shirt. "P-Please," you begged.

Seungcheol shushed you gently, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. "It's okay, baby girl. I'm here now, baby. Daddy's home. Daddy will take care of you," he whispered soothingly, kissing your head.

You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his scent, making your head spin. He pulled away to drape kisses across your face until they finally landed on your soft lips. You melted into the kiss as it became passionate and intense, completely losing yourself in the moment. You wrap your arm around him as he deepens the kiss, laying you down on the bed. The kiss became electrifying. His hands traced the curves of your body, causing you to gasp in pleasure, allowing his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth. His lips then traveled from your jaw to your neck. You couldn't help but lose yourself in the passion of his touch.

"My sweet girl," Seungcheol murmurs into your neck as he inhales your scent. Your sweet scent of (whatever scent you want it to be). He groans softly, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You were going crazy. Him. His touch. His scent was intoxicating. It was enough to make you go wild. You never wanted it to end.

"I've missed you so much," he murmurs, his voice filled with longing. His lips attacked your neck, kissing, biting, and sucking, which you were certain would leave a mark. You uttered a soft gasp, feeling a rush of desire and anticipation coursing through your body. His hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you even more.

"Miss you so much that I came back early to surprise my darling wife, and what do I see? You in heat, wearing my shirt, fingers inside that pretty pussy of yours, smelling so irresistible." He presses his lips against your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down your collarbone. He grabs h̶i̶s̶ your shirt, pulling it over your head, revealing your naked body underneath, just for him. "It's enough to send me into a rut," he whispers huskily.

His words made your pussy clench. God, do you need him? You reach out for him, grabbing his shirt. "Cheollie. Your shirt," you whine.

Seungcheol faintly chuckles. "What? What do you want?" he teasingly asks. You grab his shirt and pull on it. "I want it off," you whisper, your voice filled with desire.

Seungcheol obliged, removing his shirt and throwing the piece of clothing on the floor, not caring where it landed, revealing his well-toned chest and toned abs. Was this man gorgeous or what? You couldn't resist running your hands over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin.

"Like what you see, baby?" Seungcheol asked with a smirk, his eyes full of mischief.

You nodded eagerly, unable to tear your gaze away from him as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours, and you couldn't resist kissing him back. The kiss deepened.

His large hands cup your breasts, massaging them with care, and then he leans down to attach his lips to one of your nipples as he toys with the other. You arch your back in response, a soft moan escaping your lips as his touch sends shivers down your spine. He continues to suck and bite your sensitive flesh, making you squirm with pleasure as he repeats it to others.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him close and feeling his cock pressing against the front of his pants, hard and ready for you. You gasped as you felt the fiction of him grinding against you. "Cheol," you whimper.

He looked up at you with a smirk. "Patient baby," he whispered before teasefully biting your nipple. You pouted. You want more. You need his lips. You need more. You need to feel him inside you. He releases your swollen nipple with a 'pop' before trailing kisses down your stomach to the waistband of your panties. You knew you were going to get exactly what you wanted. He hooked his finger on the waistband of your panties, pulling down slowly until they were completely off, revealing your wet core. You could hear a sudden, small curse fall from his lips as he saw how wet you were.

"Baby, you're dripping so much," Seungcheol murmured. You gasped as his fingers traced the outer edges of your folds. "How many times did you cum?" he whispered, his voice husky with desire. You felt a surge of arousal at his words, your body responding eagerly to his touch. "So many," you admitted breathlessly.

Seungcheol softly chuckled at your cuteness. He lightly blew on your wet heat, causing you to shiver and whine. He then grabbed your thighs to place them on his shoulder, placing kisses along your inner thighs and making you shiver with anticipation. "Then allow me to make you cum some more," he whispered seductively as he trailed his lips up towards your core.

His tongue dips between your slick folds, eliciting a moan from your lips. "You taste so sweet," he growled before diving back in with fervor. The intensity of his actions sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you arch your back in ecstasy. His tongue traced from your dripping hole to your clit, as he sucked on the sensitive bud, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Your hands grip his hair as he continues to expertly work his magic. "Please don't stop," you beg, desperate to reach the peak of ecstasy.

"Feels good," he murmurs. "So good," you whisper, feeling the tension building within you. He groaned against your core, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming sensation. If there's one thing that Seungcheol loves the most, it's pleasing you until you're a quivering mess of pleasure and desire. He could eat you all day if you let him. The way he makes you feel is unlike anything you've ever felt before, and you never want it to end. Seungcheol's skilled tongue continued to work its magic; you could hear the knot in your stomach tighten. You were close.

"I'm close," you gasp, your body trembling with anticipation as he brings you to the brink of release. He muttered, not even letting up, "Let go, baby."

His voice was low and husky, and his words sent a shiver down your spine as you finally let go, the intensity of your release washing over you in waves of pleasure. Seungcheol continued to please you, drinking everything you had to offer, his skilled tongue never faltering in its movements. As you came down from your high, he leaned up to your lips to kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue. He pulled away for a moment to pull on the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, revealing his hard, throbbing length. Your mouth watered as he wrapped his hand around his cock and slowly stroked it. "You want it?" he asked, his voice husky.

You nod eagerly. "Beg for it," Seungcheol growls.

"P-please. Cheol," you begged, your voice filled with need and desperation.

"Please, what?" he titillated, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Please put it in, Daddy. I want to feel you. I want you inside me so bad. I want you to knot me up. I want you to fill me up completely with your cum," you whimpered. Your body ached for his touch, aching to be filled with pleasure.

"You want Alpha to cum inside? Want me to fill you up? Give you my knot. Fill you up so deep with cum until you are swollen with my babies? You want that, don't you?" He whispered seductively, his voice low and husky. You nodded eagerly. Just the thought of him breeding you and filling you with his cum just sent shivers down your spine. You want it so badly right now.

"Please, Alpha," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. The anticipation of feeling him inside you was almost unbearable. "What a good girl, asking so politely," he compliments.

His hands roamed over your body, teasing and tantalizing you as he positioned himself between your legs. With a smirk, he leaned in close and whispered, "I'll give you everything you want, my sweet Omega."

With a low growl, he slowly pushed inside you, making you gasp and arch your back in pleasure. He groans as the feel of your tightness envelopes him. "Fuck, you're so tight, princess," he murmurs.

As he began to move in a slow and steady rhythm, you felt every inch of him pulsating within you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. The sight below Seungcheol was so mesmerizing. Just seeing you writhing beneath him, your eyes fluttering and your lips parting in silent ecstasy, was enough to drive him wild with desire.

With each thrust, he could feel your body responding eagerly to his touch, igniting a fire within him that only grew stronger with each passing moment. His thrust began to pick up speed as your moans grew louder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room with an intoxicating rhythm. "Alpha," you moan. Your voice is filled with desire and need. You are in ecstasy right now.

Seungcheol's name on your lips only fueled his passion further, pushing him to give you everything you craved. As he continued to move inside you, the intensity of your connection soared to unforseen levels, rendering both of you breathless and lost in the moment. The two of you were intoxicated by each other.

He lifts your legs to place them on his shoulder, deepening the penetration and intensifying the pleasure. The change in angle allowed him to hit all the right spots. "T-There," you utter. "There?" he reiterates, his voice husky with desire. "Yes, right there," you moan as he hits that sweet spot inside you, making your body tremble with pleasure. He chuckles slightly as he repeatedly hits that spot, causing you to lose control of your senses. Your hands grip the sheets tightly as your hips move in perfect sync with his thrusts, the sensation becoming more intense with each movement. The way your moan was mixed with the squelching sound of your wet cunt was music to his ears.

He paused his movement to pull out, leaving you to whimper in protest. He lifts you up and changes positions. His back presses against the headboard, and you now sitting on his lap. Holding your body in place, he lines his cock up with your entrance and slowly enters you again, filling you. Your body takes over, and you ride him with wild abandon, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. "That's it. Good girl," he mutters as his eyes roll back, biting his lips.

Your moan mingles with his groans, creating a symphony of pleasure that echoes through the air, heightening the intensity of the moment. His hips thrust upward, meeting yours in the middle, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts deeper and harder. "Alpha," you whine.

With his half-lid eyes, he saw the pure ecstasy on your face. Drinking in your fuck-out expression and my god, you look beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous. There were so many words he could use to call you right now. But right now, at this moment, you were the most exquisite sight he had ever seen. You were everything that he had dreamed of, and so much more. And he could fall in love with you again and again and again.

Your bounces become more urgent, and your breath comes in short gasps. "So good. So deep," you whisper breathlessly. "You like that. You like your Alpha cock deep inside you, don't you?" His words send a shiver down your spine as you nod eagerly, unable to form a coherent response. His eyes lock with yours. He leans in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers as he continues to move inside you with a relentless rhythm. The kiss deepens as his hands grip your hips, pulling you closer to him.

Seungcheol's hand reaches between your bodies as his thumb finds its way to your clit, rubbing small circles that push you closer to the edge. You moan at his touch. Pulling away from the kiss, your gaze is locked on his half-lidded gaze, a gaze full of desire and intensity. You felt the coils in your stomach tighten as the pleasure built, and your body was on the brink of ecstasy. You were close, and he knew it. His lips twitch into an amusing smirk, the corners crinkling with amusement. "That's my girl. Such a good girl for me, riding me so beautifully. Are you close, baby," he whispers huskily.

"I'm close. So close, Cheol," you gasp out as your climax approaches. Seungcheol's movements become more urgent as he whispers in your ear, "Let go for me, princess. Let me feel you come apart around me."

As you cry out his name and finally reach your peak, "That's it, baby. Let's go. You're so beautiful when you cum," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, as you ride out the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your body trembles in his arms. Your cunt clenches around him as he continues to move inside you, prolonging your ecstasy. "Fuck!"

Seungcheol groans at the feel of your walls pulsating around him. Seungcheol holds your body close, flipping you back into your previous position, laying you on your back. His hand grips your hips tightly as he pounds into you relentlessly, his own desire evident in his intense gaze. You arch your back in response, reacting to his movements with equal fervor, surrendering completely to the pleasure he bestows on you. The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, mixed with your moans and his grunts. Seungcheol's pace became more erratic as he chased his own release, his movements becoming more desperate and erratic.

"Fuck. Are you ready for Alpha knot?" he growls, his voice low and husky with need. You nod eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation as he finally locks you in place with a deep, primal thrust. His knot thickens and swells, filling you as you cry out in ecstasy. In that moment, you are overwhelmed by the feeling of being claimed by your Alpha, and you can't help but surrender to the primal pleasure coursing through you. His primal growl, his fast, aggressive pace, and the feel of his knot locking inside you send you over the edge, bringing you closer to another orgasm. His breath ragged against your ear as you clung to him desperately.

"C-Cheol," you begged, your voice filled with desperation and desire. You feel his body tense up as he releases it inside you, filling you with his warmth. The sensation of his release triggers your own, sending you both into a state of blissful ecstasy. You cling to him desperately, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of being claimed by your Alpha. Your bodies were entwined in a tangled mess of limbs and heavy breathing, totally exhausted by the raw intensity. The room is filled with the scent of sweat and sex.

Seungcheol waited for his knot to swell down before he could pull out and collapse next to you, completely depleted. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a tender embrace. Pushing your hair to the side. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. His hand caresses your waist gently. You nodded. "I'm fine."

Seungcheol smiled, relieved to hear your response. He placed a kiss on your forehead. You were so happy to see him. If this was ever a dream, you never wanted to wake up. Your husband is home. Early... Wait. Why is he back here so early?

"Wait. You came back so early. I thought-."

"Ah," Seungcheol interrupted. "We ended up finishing up early, and instead of me staying for the next few days, I decided to go home. I wanted to call you to let you know, but I wanted to surprise you. Turns out you surprised me," he chuckled.

Oh, so that's why. You didn't expect him to come back early, nor were you expecting your heat to come either. But you were glad. "Welcome back home. I'm glad you're back," you replied, grateful for his presence. Seungcheol thanked you, pressing a sweet kiss on your lips.

"I'm glad too. I felt awful leaving you here on your own without anyone. So I was thinking, " Seungcheol started. Your eyes turn to him, curious about what he is going to say next. His hand grabs your hand, twirling around your wedding band on your finger before he places a kiss on the back of your hand. He looked into your eyes and finally said what he wanted to say.

"I was thinking, and I know we have talked about this so much, but why don't we start trying for a baby? I think we are ready to take that big step," he said, looking at you with a hopeful expression.

His sudden suggestion stunned you. A baby. A baby with Seungcheol. This. This was a huge decision. And you know you both talked about it during your marriage and said that you both would give it some thought. But now, faced with the reality, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the weight of such a life-changing decision. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, before responding to Seungcheol's proposal.

"Now before you answer, if you don't want to, I won't force you, and I will wait as long as you want. Whatever you decide, I will respect it. But just know that I love you so much, and I want to take that next step with you in our marriage. I want to be the father of our children. Plus, I think Kkuma will love having siblings to play with," he added.

You giggled at his last response. Deep down, you knew that you had always dreamed of starting a family with him. From the moment you said, 'I do', you knew he was the one you wanted to share your life with and raise a family with. And this. This new chapter of having a baby together would be the perfect step. "I love you too, and I can't imagine a future without you by my side," you finally said, feeling the weight of his words sink in. "Let's start planning for our family together," you joyfully say.

Seungcheol smiled back at you, his eyes shining with joy as he held your cheek, placed a gentle kiss on your lips, and then placed a few more. He smiled softly at you, looking into your eyes, before flipping you over on your stomach on all fours, causing you to squeal. "C-Cheol," you say.

"What? You didn't think this was over?" Seungcheol responded with a mischievous smile. You could feel his lips tracing kisses across your back. His lips trace up your back, making you shiver, and you cry out in protest.

"B-But. Shouldn't we take a break? You just returned from your trip," you mentioned between breaths.

Seungcheol just chuckled and disregardingly ignored what you had just said. His hands roam your body as he leans over, his chest pressing against your back.

"We both know your heat doesn't end there. If we want that baby, we need to keep going. I did promise I would make it up to you, and I intend to keep my word," he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

His hand grabs your face, turning you to look at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"We got all night, baby, and I want… No, I NEED to make sure you're nice, full, and swollen with my baby. And Daddy will make sure that happens," Seungcheol whispered with a devilish grin.

You softly moan in response, feeling a rush of desire and anticipation. Seungcheol's lips curled into a knowing smile before he pressed them against yours, sealing the unspoken agreement between you. It was then that you realized that the night was far from over.

[changetyre]

So what if its the reader and lando are enemies (but both are teammates at mclaren) they absolutely despise each other for no reason and it’ll stay that way (none of this hidden love masked by feelings stuff this time) and they both get stuck in a closet at hq or something and they dont get out for a while. its rlly small in there so there bodies are almost touching always and one thing leads to another but its just steamy stuff but while they still hate eachother but they keep hitting there body parts on stuff in the closet and it keeps getting them more riled up so they just decide to stop?

idk why its so specific or why i thought of this rn but i need it 🙏 feel free to change anything if you’re not comfortable or have other ideas (again sorry about it being a bit long)

i rlly love ur writing 💗honestly so excited to read this one🫶✨

What the f*** did we just do? II Lando Norris x Driver!Reader Ⓦ

SUMMARY: Working with someone you dislike is one thing, but working with someone who brings nothing but the worst side out of you is the hardest thing on the planet.

WARNINGS: **18+**, not proofread, hate.

A/N: Quite short but still hope you enjoy ;)

"You are truly the biggest fucking idiot I have ever met in my entire life." It took everything in you not to punch the man in front of you right now after he once again had successfully taken you both out of the race because he couldn't bear the thought of

"I'm the idiot?!" Lando yelled back at you. "You're the one who couldn't put her fucking ego aside for one fucking second to let the faster car through!" He followed after you as you attempted to get away from him.

The people at McLaren knew it wasn't pretty between you too even on a regular day so whenever you were angry at each other it was best to let you hash it out which meant the rooms and hallways quickly emptied as soon as they saw you both walk in.

"Faster car." you laughed obnoxiously loud. "Maybe that cup did more damage than you imagined-" You gestured to the small cut on his nose. "Since it seems you can't read the data right anymore." You continued laughing at him which only fueled his anger.

"The only thing doing damage to me is you!" He yelled to you again as he kept following you.

You weren't exactly where you were going only hoping he would leave you alone as you opened an unfamiliar door walking into darkness.

"Then maybe you should just-" You were interrupted as you walked into a shelf, Lando bumping into you soon after as you were enveloped in darkness after the door closed after you.

"What the fu*ck, watch out!" Lando muttered annoyed as he attempted to walk back only to hit the door.

"You're the one who's following me around like a lost fucking puppy." You reminded him as you reached for your phone to get some light.

Lando beat you to it lighting up the place and showing the tiny electrical room you had walked into.

"Why the hell did you even walk in here?" He asked you.

"I was trying to get away from you dipshit." You shoved past him as best as you could in the tiny space feeling parts of him that made you gag as you went to try to open the door.

"It's locked from the outside genius don't you think I already tried that?" Lando gestured to the nonexistent door knob.

"HELP! GET ME OUT OF HERE!" You banged on the door yelling hoping someone would hear you.

"OW! Shut the fuck up!" Lando was startled by your screaming.

"I am not staying in here with you another second." You shuffled looking back at him before shuffling again towards the door.

"Shit stop moving." Lando held your waist stilling you.

"Eww get your hands off me!" You slapped his hand away.

"JUST stop moving!" He grits his teeth.

You were about to turn back but felt something in the back of your ass. Once you realized what it was you were ready to yell back at him.

"I swear to god if you don't stop moving-" Lando tried to stop you as you began turning around.

"You're so fucking disgusting, what is your-" Your breath hitched as his hand rubbed at your front all of a sudden.

"This is your fault!" Lando tried cupping himself to stop you from rubbing against him without realizing his hand was pressing against your slit now.

"We have to get out of here-" Lando moved his hand again making your breath hitch again and you thrust forward unintentionally searching for more friction.

"What just-" Lando realized what his hand had grazed this time. "Are you really-"

"You have no right no speak right now!" You reminded him of his own predicament.

"I cannot walk out of here right now with this." Lando pointed the lamp down at the large bulge in his pants.

"What the hell do you want me to do about it?!" You angrily asked him.

"Don't think you can walk out of here with this either!" Lando pressed his finger to your wet core. You grasped his hand tightly.

"Sh*t don't-" You stilled his hand but his finger still pressed against you.

"You're not exactly helping here." He pointed the light back to his bulge which you noticed got tighter.

"Eww, take care of that and I'll take care of myself." You turned back around looking for anything to dry yourself with as Lando proceeded to unzip his pants freeing himself.

"What the f-" You felt Lando's dick against your ass. "Is that?"

"Where the fuck do you expect me to put it?!" Lando defended himself, the lack of space really making this impossible.

You shimmied turning back around realizing this only made it worse as his tip now pressed between your legs directly on your clit.

"Shit, this isn't helping." Lando's head fell back in pleasure.

"Mmm-" You couldn't hold back the moan. "Let's just get this done with fast." You suggested as you opened your legs slightly letting his dick slide between your legs a little further.

"Agh fuck!" Lando was taken aback by the unexpected friction.

"You're gonna get my jeans dirty!" you complained.

"Then take them off!" Lando bit back.

"Turn the light off!" You yelled back at him.

"Fine!" Lando reluctantly agreed shutting off his phone. He heard as your pants unzipped before you moved back slightly as you pulled your pants down.

He expected to feel your bear skin against his dick but what he certainly didn't expect was feeling your folds over his dick moments later.

"Holy sh*t." Lando moaned breathlessly as he could feel your wetness coat his member.

"Let's just hurry up" You said equally breathless thankful you couldn't see anything right now, hoping to imagine Lando was someone else right now and not the person you despised the most on this planet.

You felt Lando pull back as much as the room allowed him before moving forward his dick rubbing against you.

You moaned in pleasure enjoying the friction attempting to move as much as you could too.

"This would go faster if I could just-" Lando started.

"Don't even think about it." You knew what he'd suggest and embarrassingly enough you knew you would finish faster too if he slipped inside you but the thought repulsed you too much still.

"Fine," Lando muttered angrily as you felt him grip your waist and pull you against him as he began thrusting back and forward faster.

You would've complained but the pleasure was too good for you to try to stop it.

"Agh shit-" You moaned as you could feel the knot starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

"Fuck I'm close." Lando panted and you were getting lost in the pleasure.

Your mind was in a haze you forgot who was doing this as your eyes squeezed shut in delight.

"Just fuck me already!" You asked him, a momentary lapse in judgment you had no further time to process as you felt Lando slip inside of you.

"Agh fuck you're so tight." Lando would've cum just from the feeling right then if it wasn't for the reminder that it was you he was inside of.

"Just go harder and shut up." You muttered as Lando obliged picking up the pace and fucking into you.

"Hmm- ahhh- harder!" You were reaching your high and only hoped Lando was near too.

"He began thrusting faster and no more than a few seconds later your legs trembled as you came on his dick, Lando following soon after as he came inside of you. You felt his cum fill you up as you came down from your high trembling at the sensitiveness." You tried catching your breath as Lando pulled out.

A few seconds later the post-orgasm clarity hit you both realizing what had just happened.

"Ewww what the fuck did we just do!" You screamed at him as you could feel his cum start dripping out of you giving you shivers of disgust.

"GET US OUT OF HERE!" Lando was also mortified as he felt your wetness around him as he tried to tuck himself away.

Lando banged at the door harder as you grabbed your phone calling for help. You had to get out of here and take a bath in bleach now!

[knowyourplace-fool]

halo! new follower here! i like your yandere!ex!bully!Eren x Reader ♡_♡ can I ask for a continuation of it? where y/n is on her pregnant phase and up until the child was finally born. like how would Eren treat her? bcs ik for sure y/n would drop out on her college T_T

⚠️: NON CON, Forced Pregnancy, yandere!eren...

DARK CONTENT! DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERED EASILY!!

-> sorry for the wait, life's been hectic

-> yall got me fucked up. The eren smut tag be so dry nowadays

-> part 1

The last few days, you've been feeling uneasy

Eren's been avoiding you ever since that night he stormed into your house and fucked you unconscious

You desperately want to talk to someone about your feelings but can't due to:

1. lack of friends... scratch that, you don't have any friends

2. Your mother doesn't give a flying fuck about you

3. Eren... The person who is causing you to feel this way

You can't put your finger on it, but it's a gut feeling that something bad is going to happen

Nonetheless, you can't just wallow in your bed all day so you get up to get ready for your 12pm lecture

Everything seemed normal until you started to feel nauseous upon your arrival at school

You thought maybe it was because you hadn’t ate anything in the morning, so it’s just empty stomach nausea

But no.

The nausea was then followed with a pang of dizziness and before you knew it, you collapsed onto the floor.

Waking up in a hospital bed and being met with emerald eyes was not ideal

It was unfair how pretty he was. How could someone look like a prince from a fairy tale be so ruthless and cold?

His hand reached to touch your cheek, gently caressing it. You can’t remember the last time he touched you so gently like this.

“I’m gonna go get the nurse to make sure you’re stable.” He spoke is a calm, gentle tone. Despite all the shit he’s put you through, you couldn’t help but feel safe, wanted and loved when he spoke to you in that moment.

He left the room and you took the chance to sit upright and look at your surroundings. There was a fruit platter, a teddy bear and some flowers on the table.

How long have you been out for??

Panic began to settle in, but luckily Eren and his father walked into the room. Right, his father was a doctor.

After some small talk, he did a quick checkup and said that there’s nothing to be concerned about. He got up and paged a nurse before leaving you and Eren alone again.

“Am I able to go home now? Your dad said I’m fine.”

“Not quite yet. There’s something that we need to tell you.”

The door opens and a machine is pushed into the room. The nurse wheeled in a sonogram?

“What do you need that for?”

“To check on how your little bean is doing sweetheart.”

It looked like a vampire sucked all the blood out of you. You went pale. Is this what your gut was warning you about?

Instantly, you begin freaking out. Thrashing around, trying to get up and away from this hospital, away from this city, away from this life and more importantly, away from him.

Eren holds you down on the bed and tried his best to keep you calm. He knew your reaction wouldn’t be pleasant, but you couldn’t possibly despise him this much, right?

“What is she talking about? I- I can’t be pregnant! I’m too young. Please god, this is not happening. Why me?” You begin sobbing, as Eren holds you close to him, sitting on your bed and pulling your body onto his.

“Could you give us a moment please” eren cleared his throat and eyed the nurse as she left and closed the door behind her.

It was like a switch went off in him and he grabbed your jaw tightly, pulling your face close to his.

“Stop fucking crying. You’re embarrassing me. You’re the one who fucking caused me to do this. You kept trying to leave me without a reason. Even though I pleaded with you to stay, to give me another chance to fix my mistakes. But you didn’t. I know the reason why you broke up with me is to whore around. Like your mother who doesn’t even know who your dad is. Now unlike your whore mother, this baby has a father. And I have no plans on abandoning my child because I don’t want them to turn out like you. So sit up straight and let her take the ultrasound. You’re ruining what’s supposed to be a happy moment for first time parents.”

He roughly let go of your jaw and called the nurse back in while you sat upright again and wiped the tears away.

Eren lifted your gown to expose your stomach and pulled up the blanket so you weren’t exposed down there. The cool gel was spread on your stomach and before you knew it, a small bean was presented on the sonogram screen.

Your heart began to soften up after realizing that you were growing a baby in your stomach.

But the tears wouldn’t stop. You ended up turning away from the screen and closing your eyes, trying to figure out what you’re going to do.

After the nurse left to print out the pictures, Eren helped you get dressed so you could finally leave this depressing place.

The car ride was silent. You had the bouquet of flowers resting on your lap while you played with the ultrasound photos with your fingers

You noticed eren was headed back to his place so you cleared your throat and asked him to drop you off at your place.

“I’m not gonna leave you alone. Not when you’re pregnant with my child. We’re gonna be staying at my place so I can take care of you. We also have to search for a house to settle in before the baby’s arrival.”

“Eren, all of that isn’t necessary. I’m still in my first trimester.”

“Even more reason for you to stay with me. The first trimester is always the riskiest. And I’m not taking that risk.”

“I can’t just up and leave everything, Eren. My lease isn’t up until July and I have a job too.”

“I don’t care. I’ll pay whatever I have to, and break the lease.”

Panic began to set in

Tears started forming in your eyes and the palms of your hands became clammy

The idea of being tied to Eren for the rest of your life made your heart pound in your ears and your stomach churn

You’d be signing your freedom away

You wouldn’t be able to go to school, or have a job

You’d be stuck at home as a house wife, like he’s always wanted

You couldn’t let that happen

no no no no no

It was a stupid, impulsive decision

But you were desperate to get out of his car and stay away from his place

So you blurted,

“What if it’s not yours?!”

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back

I know I didn’t answer this request to the full extent, but tbh if I did, you’d have to wait an additional 10 months.

[runa-falls]

*raise hand violently* PLEASE CAN I ASK ABOUT sub!miguel headcanons?!?!?!?!?!

What makes him whine, how pretty does his whimpers sound like?!?!?!

How gorgeous does he look when his eyes get all shiny and wet with tears because you won't let him come yet.

sub!miguel headcanons

basic summary: miguel is the whiniest, most pushy malewife and you are his protector, comforter, and safe space :3

a/n: OK BETTER LATE THAN NEVER RIGHT? (im so sorry lmfaooo) also does it count as headcanons if i have random scenes in between them?? wtvr *shoves fic in ur arms and sprints away*

content: suggestive + fluffy

masterlist

---

bed habits (I'M TALKING AB SLEEPING YOU DIRTY BASTARD!) -- miguel is a sleepy, cuddly boy

he never has trouble falling asleep when you're around (except for when he - adorably - forces himself to stay awake so he can spend time with you)

this man is 6'7" but he still tries to curl up on your lap when you're lounging on the couch just so you can play with his hair as he dozes off

miguel owns a king sized bed, big enough to fit five people comfortably, yet he's adamant to take up all your space

it gets hot (i mean, he's hot -- literally, like his internal temp is higher than the average human) but even when you try to shove him away, he only pulls you closer to him

if you do, somehow, get away from him, he wakes up immediately with a sleepy groan, blindly reaching across the mattress for you:

you try to dodge his hands, laying precariously at the edge of the bed, hoping he would give up and go back to sleep. unfortunately, it only makes him whine like a spoiled child, "baby, closer. need you...come here" god -- he has such a cute sleepy voice...

but you don't let it sway you. you're already laying on top of the comforter, desperately trying to cool off and get back to sleep.

"it's too hot, miguel"

"but...i can't sleep without you" you can hear the pout in his voice

"just hold a pillow and pretend its me"

he sighs -- actually sighs like the dramatic man he is, "but it's not the same!"

you don't respond, refusing to continue this 3 am argument that you'll never win, and pretend to fall back asleep. maybe he will practice self-soothing or something and sleep by himself? maybe he'll be an adult about this?

silence settles in the air for a few minutes and you're nearly lulled back to unconsciousness. and then you hear the sheets rustle as he sits up next to you, suddenly fully awake and stubbornly staring down at you.

"please?"

"mig, no amount of 'pleases' will convince me to sleep against your volcanic body"

"...how about just until I fall asleep?"

"but when I move away you'll wake up again."

you hear a quiet 'hmph' before you're promptly tugged back against his body. his face presses against your hair as he situates himself to engulf you in his warmth. "exactly, so don't leave me."

it's a common misconception that sub!mig likes to be the little spoon but actually he likes to cling onto you like you're a living teddy bear -- face nuzzled against your neck, legs intertwined with yours, and one large hand on your tit

you often wake up in a tangled mess, your neck stiff from the contorted positions he maneuvers your body into during the night

but you don't mind it anymore, especially on those rare morning swhen you wake up before him and you get to see those worry lines on his forehead soften as he sleeps soundly next to you

miguel is a soft and eager man:

it's his life mission to provide for you, to hear soft words of praise whisper from your lips

as soon as you're alone in a room, he drops the tough guy act and immediately searches for your warmth

miguel sticks to you like velcro when he isn't fighting crime in the city

and when he isn't with you, he's absolutely thinking about you

(of course he makes sure that you're thinking about him too with all the texts he sends you throughout the day -- adorned with cheesy emojis...)

this dude is so needy and desperate for your love, praise and approval that he's the one asking "would you still love me if i were a spider-mutant worm and i looked at you like this: 🐛 to say 'i love you'?"

would he call you 'mami'? debatable.

but he loves it when you call him honey, sweetheart, baby, bubby/bubs, hubby (he wants to marry you so bad), and puppy (WHEN HE'S KINKY BC HE'S A HORNY SOB)

you swear he whimpers a little when you tell him what a good man he is -- when you confess that he's your hero, even when he's not swinging around the city and lifting up buildings with his bare hands

his warm brown eyes search your face, a desperate quest for truth in every gentle word you speak. he's never been spoken to so softly in his life -- this tenderness, it's new...too good to be true

as time passes and your love deepens, he begins to realize that it's all true, that everthing about you is genuine, that he is loveable after all

miguel worships you:

he is definitely a worshipper when you let him be

on slower, more sensual nights, he makes sure to paint your body in kisses, from your ankles to your forehead it's almost tortuous

(maybe even bites if it's been a while since he's seen you)

he likes to kneel for you, make himself smaller so he can look up at you and appreciate everything you've provided for him

he's really whiny and pathetic though...

he wants to be told what to do, when to do it, and how. it helps him let go of this thoughts, anything that's weighing on him

it could be his heightened senses or just his desperation, but he needs to touch you all the time -- even just the light feeling of his hand against your thigh gives him a euphoric feeling.

so you deny him because you know how much he loves the delayed gratification and humiliation when you tease him for it.

"baby, you're acting so needy right now~" you decided to withdraw from the heated interaction to keep him at the edge. his eyes are dark, blazing with heat, as you speak to him with a syrupy sweet voice.

he pouts from the spot where he's kneeling for you, already achingly hard from the thorough petting session you just gave him.

"i'm not trying to be...just really need it." he's whining with a mixture of shame, frustration, and exasperation in his voice.

"It?" you tilt your head, a small smile gracing your lips.

"..." he doesn't elaborate. you can see a hint of pinkness creep up his neck as his eyes avoid yours.

he can get so shy sometimes. it's endearing. it makes you want to destroy him then put him back together again.

"honey, i can't give you what you need unless you tell me." you know what he wants, but you want to hear him say it.

"please"

[thedarkestrivernymph]

Soft Yandere! Clan Leader x Wife!Reader

warnings: self-hatred, insecure! reader, nudity, only brief mentions of nsfw themes

genre: fluff, comfort

©Copyright -2024-thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

You felt hot, flashing pain trickle down your throat to settle in the depth of your chest—lungs aching from the strain, face nearly purple as you held a bated breath, eyes squeezed shut, trying your best to avoid his gaze.

“I am sorry—” your voice was all but a meek squeak. “—I know this wasn't what you were expecting.” nimble fingers curled and tugged at your robes, keeping them positioned in front of you bare state—as you couldn't help but bow your head in utter shame, feeling the weight of your imperfections bear down on you.

The man hovering above your kneeling form remained silent, opting to assessing and scrutinizing you with the sharp whiplash of his gaze alone.

“I know—you're unhappy about this—my family will repay the trinkets your clan gifted us so graciously. Just please don't act rash and revoke the marriage—” you couldn't even finish uttering the words wobbling from your quivering lips before a sob ripped free from your throat and you just had to bury your face into the silkiness of your robes.

There was a sigh, then a long pause as you wailed, bashfully, scrambling to try and hide as much of your figure as possible, feeling slimy and dirty, hideous even, to have thrown yourself at the head of one of the biggest clan’s like a loose woman—as if you held your legs open for just anybody.

“Calm your nerves.” his voice was gruff, tinged with exsperation, as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your forehead to trace your hairline and find a rhythmic pattern petting your crown. “I will do no such thing, my bride, can't you even look at me?” he was kind, much too kind towards something as filthy as you were.

“I cannot—” you rasped between laboured breaths and high-pitched mewls muffled by your bloated bottom lip; bitten raw.

“You're upset. Why are you so saddened? What has caused you anguish? You're my wife—you do not need to lower your gaze in shame.” he whispered tentatively and before you knew it, he had peeled away the annoying piece of fabric obscuring your adorable sniffling face from him. “Do not cry. Our families expect of us to lay together—but if you fear it this much, we can wait. I can wait, my wife, why won't you calm?” chiffon, something akin to a gentle breeze caressing you—that’s what his voice was like, lulling you into a daze; sweet candy to lure you out of your hiding.

So, finally, scraping together all the courage you had, you raised your gaze to meet his, immediately regretting it, as the gentleness in his, so misdirected at something as ugly as you were, made you burst out into another fit of hysterics. “No, no, no. You're—you’re just too nice. Throwing myself at you like a whore—you deserve better. A refined lady. That's what you need and our clans expect—but I am no such thing. I—I am hideous, please, stop looking at me with such kindness. I apologise, husband, I am ruining the first night and I can't just stop and—”

“Breathe” you felt your cheek press into a chest and finally the furrow between your brows eased as you let something almost primal escape you, breaking down all too horribly until your head throbbed in an ache and your nose was stuffy and runny—and while you unleashed your inner demons, he was petting you, cooing at you, reminding you to stay grounded.

“My wife—” he chirped once it was over and you exhausted your capacity to cry any further, sinking into the soft covers of your martial bed like a heavy sack of sand, “I am blessed to be yours.” you felt him interlace his thick fingers with yours, brushing over the back of your hand subtly yet affectionately, as the moon filtered through the curtains to lay stripes of silver across you both.

“Can you even imagine how much I yearned for this very moment? To claim that you're mine, not just in spirit—with our two clans permanently intertwined? Since the day you passed by me at the market all my waking moments have been filled with longing for you. So how could you ever call the woman I love all these distasteful names?” he chased away all the bad thoughts as your numbed body laid against his, arms so powerful you were sure they could've squeezed you to death if he was lying, but it didn't seem so—not him, not the most perfect man you had ever met before, the one you knew deserved better than you.

“You're silent, my wife.” he paused. “It seems your husband lacks the ability to truly convince you of his feelings.” he pressed a kiss to your crown, sighing softly while scooping you closer to his warmth. "Do not fret. We have our entire lives left. If you cannot trust me yet, then I will teach you how—I will convince you of my earnest feelings, even if it takes a lifetime. Because—” he pressed a kiss to your forehead this time, staring down at your bare form beneath the covers, cuddled up in his arms, with tears smeared across your cheeks so beautifully. “ask and I would even bring down the moon for you.”

[white-poppie]

𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 ⎯⎯⎯ Part II of the '𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇' series

SYNOPSIS: In the bleakest times of your life, there kindled a little ember in you. Tsukiko, moon child, you were coping, one way or another. But dark clouds claw at the litte light of hope in your life as you come face to face with Suguru again.

TW: crying, teen-pregnancy, panic attacks, lactation, depression-like symptoms, post-partum, adoption,, self-loathing, su!c!dal ideation, jealousy, mentions of suguru's twisted ideals of a perfect jujutsu society, big sad :(

A/N: Thank you for all the support to this series!! Ps! look out for the symbolism in objects, i used big brain power lol. Plus I am sooooo sorry for delaying this so much

NOTE: reader is in her last year so she'd be around 17-19 :) This big sad will build up to happiest happy in the last part so bear with me.

WC: 4k lmaooo

Series masterlist Pt1: 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 ⏮ ⏸ ⏭ Part 3 Now playing: Part 2

The child, a baby girl, lay giggling and cooing in your arms as you look down at her with warmth in your eyes. She's the spitting image of an angel with her wide and expressive eyes, her small nose, a sharp arch exactly like her father, pink flushed cheeks and a tuft of soft dark black hair on her head…She looks exactly like Suguru.

She is a talkative baby, her little pink lips opening and closing wit soft 'pops', thats quite literally talking, what even is the difference when you are holding a squishy 2 month old? Her hands and movements are disoriented, jerky, flailing her chubby little arms and legs without care.

Her tiny hand reaching up to grab at your strands of hair, her big eyes looking curiously at your hair, observing how it moves with her tiny wrist.

"Come on, sweetheart, let mama do shopping for you." you whisper to the tiny baby strapped to your chest as you go around picking the essentials

She looks up at your voice, her lips almost forming a little pout and you can't help but coo lightly at her cuteness. You resist the urge to snap another photo and send it to Shoko to which she would always reply with a boring thumbs up emoji, but you know well how she smiles after seeing her god-child.

"Let's see what we have... we got the diapers, baby oil, flour, we got the veggies and other stuff...ah pear, we should get some pears." you say to the baby. It was difficult to think singularly in singular pronouns, it was the two of you-- it was 'us', 'our' through and through.

You walk down to the fruit isle, looking for some pears. Eventually you find the last pack in the thin mesh. Your hands reach forward to grip it and so does another. Your heart ceases. There is no way you wouldn't recognise that hand. The faint tan under which lie a constellation of protruding green veins. Fingers with a naturally large nail bed, the skin around it slightly discoloured. Suguru. There was no doubt it was him, you didn't even need to look up or rather you didn't have the strength to.

You suddenly wanted to laugh. You felt like a tragic greek hero, comung across your beloved, a bit too late. Orpheus and Eurydice, Hyacinthus and Apollo. Achilles and Patroclus. But the real tragedy was, as the poets said, "I could recognise him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world."

"Suguru..." You whisper out breathlessly as you finally dare and look him in the eye.

His name leaving your lips like a plea tears straight through his chest, his heart aching at the sound of his beloved's voice again. He can't help but feel his heart racing as he looks at your face, drinking in the sight of your tired but radiant face. "Y/N," he murmurs out.

He feels sick, how instantly his sleep-deprived body finds solitude at the sight of you. Relief flooding into his lungs, spreading throughout his veins like a chasm. Its shattering, he feels like a man who was lost in a desert after having left his paradise for a mirage of an oasis.

His body is on fire, his muscles searing to envelop you, to somehow make you melt into him and never let go. His vision blurs, watery, and then suddenly, his breath stills, when his eyes fall onto the soft bundle safely strapped to you chest. An appearance uncanny similar to his, its alive, living. His ears buzz in trepidation. On one hand you stand in front of him and he wants to fall on his knees and tell you how miserable and lonely he was, how being the villain in everyone's story, including yours doesn't bother him anymore, but that child...

"Is that.." he murmurs, but his voice trembles more that he would have liked it to.

Your eyebrows etch into a small frown, you almost want to scream at him for even asking this question. "Obviously." You reply your eyes darting to the aisles in the mart.

His breath stutters and his palms turn cold. No, no, no, no, no. A soft gasp leaves his mouth. The revelation tumbling down him. he had thought of everything. He was ready to face anything, and every consequence, and yet somehow some way he had forgotten to calculate a variable. A variable that was a variable that you, a variable was his child.

He killed his parents without hesitation, left the walls of the quaint house he grew up in all sullied with but somehow the sight of you with his child brings him to his knees. He wants to sob, rest his head on your knee and shakily kiss you and the baby in forgiveness.

"That's my child..." he says, but it sounds more like a statement than a question. With his silken black hair and nose bridge, the same bright black eyes he had as a kid....that's his

You take in a deep breath and nod, your heart pounds in your chest till it aches. "Tsukiko." You whisper out, your voice hoarse as you look at the little girl

Suguru has to bite his lip just to keep himself sane, memories of that bittersweet night flooding in and he feels he would topple over the pear rack.

"Tsukiko...she's named Tsukiko..." He says out and his hand shakes. That's his blood, his daughter and yet he is the farthest thing from a father. Seeing her so close to you, the way you are fussing over her, it has his throat run dry by the intensity of a ground marred from rain, a rain that fell always but now doesn't fall in the courtyard of his heart, leaving all the plants of humane emotions, wilting and dry.

He can't help but murmur out, "A pretty name. It suits her." He whispers out softly, gently reaching out a hand towards the small child. "May I?"

You look at him as a strange anger wells up within. You want to refuse, yet you want to cry in his sturdy arms, for him to envelope you so hard that you can't breathe. You want to beg him to come back, and yet you want to slap him and tell him to never show his face.

You want him to stay, to apologise for letting some as young as you go through pregnancy alone. You want him to apologise for leaving you in a state where the shadows around you seemed to warp in oddly threatening shapes, where intrusive thoughts had you so scared you had to call Shoko or Satoru just to listen to their voice, so that you feel real and don't end up doing anything stupid.

You want him to go back to your dorm room in jujutsu high, where all of his belongings are untouched like the day he left.

You gently unclasp her from the carrier. “Support her neck, she’s only two months old.”

He swallows the lump in his throat as he gently takes the child into his arms, watching as you gently unclasp her from the carrier and gently place her into his arms. His heart hammers in his chest as he carefully and gently supports her small, fragile neck, feeling her small frame in his arms. Tsukiko blinks her wide eyes in confusion, staring up at him with wide, curious eyes.

You feel anguished, thinking of what life could have been if Suguru had never left for his goals. What if you hadn’t lost half of your soul that day.

His heart aches as he holds the small baby in his arms, thinking of all the moments he will lose out on seeing now. Never seeing her first steps, her first words, never reading her bedtime stories, never having her call him ‘daddy’. He will never get to see her experience the feeling of pure and unbridled joy for the first time, or seeing her face light up at all the small, everyday things that make children happy. He knows he has missed so much already, and the thought of missing more...

His heart aches and his breath catches in his throat as he feels the small child’s bottom lip tremble slightly, her head turning up to look at you with a conflicted look in her eyes. He can feel her small frame quiver slightly in his arms, probably still confused by the fact that she is in a stranger’s arms, but she isn’t crying to get away from him. The fact that she’s not crying to get back into your arms makes him want to laugh and sob all at the same time.

"Tsuki." You whisper out as you gently brush your fingers on her face. For some odd reason you don't want her to cry in his arms. After all the pain he has inflicted on me, Iyou still don't want him to be hurt by his girl crying to get away from him.

You take a sudden breath as your fingers brush against his arm accidentally, and suddenly you feel so small, so alone. With Tsuki away from your chest, even though she is right in front of you, you feel a strange fear of abandonment.

His heart races as he feels your fingers brush against his arm accidentally, your fingers leaving a scorching heat in their wake even though you’re only brushing against his arm. Your fingers are icy cold, and it’s just then that he realizes that you have tears streaming down your face, the droplets running down your chin and dripping onto the linoleum flooring of the grocery store. Your shoulders are trembling and you’re trying to hold back your sobs, but he can hear your strangled breaths.

"Give her back to me and leave." You whisper out as you bite your lips. Its not fair, It hurts so much. You have been so strong until now, taking care of everything, but now he is here and everything is rushing back like a riptide, knocking you off your feet, making you fall face-first onto the sand

He can feel his eyes widening in shock as your strangled words reach his ears, his heart aching painfully as he holds back the urge to cry out. He watches you struggle to stop tears from streaming down your face, watching the way your shoulders tremble as you try to hold back your sobs, watching as you fight back the urge to just hold the baby and run back to his arms.

"Geto." You murmur. Not Sugu, not Suguru. "Give me my child back," You whisper as you look at him, your hand clutching your chest as it aches so painfully. "Are you having fun seeing me make a spectacle of myself in the middle of a mart?" You croak out, but your voice doesn't waver.

His heart breaks as you call him ‘Geto’ in such a cold, detached voice. He gulps and hand the baby to you, his hands immediately feeling so empty, thats his daughter, his little girl. He wants to hold her, kiss her head, kiss the beautiful woman who brought her to life, but he is going to make a new world, and when all that is done, you would all be a family....

You gently tuck Tsukiko back in the carrier as he hands her to you and walk out of the mart, towards the exit. The groceries forgotten. You will buy them some other day. Each step is so difficult.

You wanna go back to him, cry in his arms, sob and hit his chest. Standing underneath a stop as you dial your phone to Satoru and he answers. "Satoru...can you pick us up?" you murmur tiredly, your voice hoarse

The moment he heard your voice over the phone, Satoru felt his heart dropping to his stomach. He can hear the way your voice is strained and hoarse, and he can sense the way that you are on the verge of tears. Satoru swallows the lump in his throat as he stands up from his desk and grabs the keys off his desk. “I’m on my way.”

You nod and cut the call, staring blankly at the clouds. You hear the automated door of the mart open and look at Suguru exiting the mart, three polybags in his hands as he walks up to you and keeps two of them on the ground. You look at the bag...its all the things in my cart and the pears.

Your lip trembles as I look up at him, eyes bleary. Tsukiko is now peacefully asleep against your chest. Her faint smell, that of baby powder and milk...It lingers from Suguru too, your head pounds.

He faintly smells like her too now and the way he looks at her, like he is aching, his eyes begging--- they are peading in the same way as they were on the night which lead to Tsuki. I wish I can have what I love, but to protect what I love, I must make a society where those I love ⎯ sorcerers: you, Tsuki, Satoru, Shoko ⎯ are safe

"Go, it's about to rain soon. You'll catch a cold if you get wet." You whisper out tiredly.

His heart aches as he watches you whisper out your words, the exhaustion plain on your face. He can’t bear to see you struggling and forcing yourself to be strong when he is the sole reason for your pain. And as he hears your tired voice, he just can’t help the way his hand reaches out to gently brush the tear away from your cheek. “Y/N…don’t cry,” he whispers.

You look at his hand caressing your cheek before a soft sob escapes your mouth. His touch making goosebumps rise all over your body. “Don’t do that, you have no right to when you decided to leave….” You say as you weakly push his hand away, but it’s so feeble and weary that it’s like a gentle nudge.

A fresh wave of tears builds in your eyes, and all he wants to do is draw you into his arms and hold you until your sobs fade away. It kills him how weak you are, how weak his leaving has made you. He wants to hold you and never let you suffer like this ever again. But how could he after he’s the one that caused this pain to begin with?

His phone rings, an unfamiliar contact name flashes on his screen. Mimiko with a little childish flower emoji next to it.

You feel your heart drop to your stomach; to the point that you feel as if you are having morning sickness all over again.

"That's your girlfriend?" you ask with a soft chuckle, as you don't feel this ugly cold wave wash over you, you feel your limbs stiffen, your teeth chattering at how cold I feel.

Its as if your heart has closed off, putting up a barrier around it and locking away all those painful emotion that he has inflicted on you. He looks down at his phone, seeing a picture of Mimiko and Nanako, the little girls he rescued and adopted 11 months ago, smiling in the caller ID. "Y/N..no..."

"You don't have to defend yourself y'know." you say with a fake breathy laugh as your hand supports Tsumiko's sleeping head to your chest. "Not that it matters anymore."

He bites his lip as he stares at your expression, his heart being "I’m not gonna defend myself but...those are my kids, not my girlfriends," he says softly.

Your eyebrows furrow as your grip on Tsukiko tightens instinctively. "...What?" Its too much. Its way too much for you to handle, your ears ring uncomfortably, yet you try to stand firm.

"Mimiko and Nanako..." He swallows nervously, trying to figure out the right words to say. "I-I found them, when I left you. They are sisters. Their parents were murdered, and they were in such horrendous conditions that I just had to rescue them," he stutters, feeling a sudden uncomfortable rush of warmth on his cheeks from his heart racing.

"I see, uhm thats very nice of you." You mutter with a little smile. "Having two daughters, must be nice. something positive amongst all that you are doing..." You say, but your throat runs dry. He has two daughters. That’s basically a family. He is raising them out of goodwill and love, it’s optimistic.

Your heart aches as you think about Tsukiko. Her mother still stuck to her past, clinging to her lover.

Most of the days you can't tell the date from start to finish. You blankly do all the work, function normally but trapped in this surreal dream that you can't snap out from, until your back hits the bed and you stare at a picture of you and Suguru on the bedside. Finally crying, showing some humane emotion after acting like a non-sentient being.

He has two daughters. Who first had happy lives with their parents until they tragically died, and were taken in by an equally loving caretaker.

Your expression turns from shock to something a little more painful, a sad half-smile that looks like it’s masking the emotional turmoil that he can see building up beneath it. He can see the way that your shoulders droop a little, your head bowing just a fraction more towards your chest. He can see your fingers tightening just slightly around Tsukiko, "Yeah..it is...” he murmurs out weakly.

“I am glad…every child deserves a home.” You mutter genuinely, but you feel so so terrible, like the worst person on earth that you am jealous of those little girls. Those little kids who get to live with their adoptive dad, a happy life. Full of joys and laughter. While Tsukiko was born in such despair. So much pain. Her mother, her godparents; everyone suffering in the tumultuous Jujutsu society. But what about Tsukiko, who's only fault was being born, why does she have to experience this tragedy?

Suguru's heart shatters as he watches you silently struggle and hold back your tears. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He did this to you. He did this to you, and now his two adopted children are getting the life that he ripped from you. That he denied you. There’s so much you already hear from people, about your character. When your only crime was being in love

“I won’t tell her that you have kids when she grows up.” You say with smile. “Wouldn’t want her to think she’s not a good kid and that’s why her dad left her for other children who are better than her. She’ll think her daddy didn’t like her.” You mumur. “Kids can be particularly fragile…who would know better than a mother who’s a kid herself?”

His heart drops at your cold, quiet words, his breath catching in his throat, tears building in his eyes at the pure agony that he can feel in your words. The way you’re already resigning yourself to being a single parent all alone. The way you can only do this because you’re still a damn kid yourself. Suguru heaves breathlessly as he gulps, his bottom lip trembling. The words don't leave his mouth. He should just ask you to come with him, to live with him, to be together as a family, a big family.

“At least raise them well Suguru…the two of them should get a safe environment. You look down at Tsukiko, your fingers gently brushing the little hair on her hair. She’s so tiny, hasn’t even gotten hair on her head fully.

Suguru's hands shakes as he takes a step closer, just basking in the sight of his beloved and his daughter. "Yeah," he mutters. "They are good kids, my girls..." he says in a faint whisper as a soft smile graces his face at the sight of Tsukiko's pudgy cheeks.

What a mighty child, she can stop world wars, she has him stopped and he is the closest thing to be a cause of a war in near future.

My girls? Your knees buckle at the words. “Ah I see… they are your girls.” You can't help but be bitter at his phrasing as you look at our little Tsukiko. She looks so much like her daddy. From her eyes, nose, hair, skin…she is a replica of him and yet he’s never had the chance to call her his child. It’s so cruel.

He feels a sharp spike of pain shoot through his heart at your words. His girls…not our girls. His girls. He doesn’t have the right to have you call them our girls. They’re just his. All because of him.

“Will she ever be your daughter Suguru…?” You can’t help but mutter so shakily, your voice quivering like a child’s as tears roll down your eyes…you feel so small it’s embarrassing.

A soft breathy sob leaves Suguru, he can't do this, he is goddamn monster. The sound almost makes you flinch as you look up at him. He sucks in a deep breath and holds it in for a few seconds before exhaling. “How could I...she’s…” he struggles to get the words out. “She’s ours. She’s ours and she’ll always be ours.”

Suguru sakes his head as he runs his fingers through his hair, he so goddamn dizzy. "She is my daughter, Nanako and Mimiko are my kids." he says, the change of a synonym making such a huge difference in the meaning.

"And you- you are mine, you have no- no idea who difficult it has been, I can't even try to compare, but I've missed you so goddamn much." his voice cracks. "And its so lonely, the girls they see me staring at your picture everyday and I tell them that's their mother. When they ask where you are, I tell them how I messed up- left to protect you, because you do not agree with my ideas, I thought you would be better off without me, that you'd move on slowly. But there's my daughter and I feel so guilty. You cannot move on, not when she is a reminder of me, of us. Of our youth."

The tears don't drop, but they pain is etched on his face, deep frown and upturned brows. You breathe out and shake your head. "I can't-" you murmur and he bites his lip, his index finger lightly running on Tsukiko's palm.

"I know." he says, "I just wish- I just wish I had more time, with you and Tsukiko." he whispers in the same soft tone as he conflicted eyes look into yours as if to say. Come with me, leave the jujutsu society, just us, our family.

But leaving with Suguru meant betraying everyone. Satoru, Shoko, Yaga sensei and the entirety of the sorcerers who work day and night for the future. A safe future from people like Suguru. Who heedlessly killed thousands of innocents.

"Go," you whisper out. "the girls must be waiting." You pause, your fingers shakily finding his and his eyes widen. He firmly squeezes your hand, the warmth of his hand against yours rouses and inexplicable pain and fondness in you.

"Satoru must be arriving." you mutter.

He nods his head slowly as he steps away, his voice thick. “I love you." he whispers out. The same words he had denied you the privilege of last time as he leaves...

Moments later a panicked Gojo pulls over, alarmed by your call before his eyes widen as he senses the remnants of Suguru’s cursed energy. His best friend, the strongest along him. Gojo can feel a cold shudder wash down his spine as he senses the remnants of Suguru’s cursed energy in the air, his breath catching in his throat as recognition hits him instantly, realising what may have happened.

You are sitting on the seats on the bus-stand as he comes close.He steps closer to you, his heart breaking upon seeing the dried tear tracks that are on your cheeks and the look of brokenness and despair in your eyes. He kneels down in front of you and gently rests his hand on your knee, his eyes gentle as he looks at you. “Y/N....” he whispers.

“Satoru…” You whimper softly, your voice cracking out of desperation and relief.

He quickly reaches up to pull you into a tight hug, his heart aching at the small, whimpering whisper of his name from your lips and the way your breathing hitches and a choked sob escapes your lips, the rest of your body quivering in his arms from the force of your tears. His arms are locked tightly against your body, keeping you pulled firm against his chest as you cry into your hands and he gently strokes a hand up and down your back. “Hey…shh..it’s okay…I’m here.”

He mutters as he winces, closing his eyes while the remnants of his best friend's cursed energy remains...

A/N: I sincerely apologise for the pain, but I don't have enough money for everyone's therapy.

EXP: Pear symbolism: In Chinese, the word li means both pear and separation, so it's said that to avoid a separation, friends and lovers should not divide pears between themselves.

[cryptidghostgirl]

CHUBBY! READER X ALASTOR

I'm soooo sorry that I'm requesting something else this just came to me and I needed your storytelling expertise to bring it to life 😢

ALSO ALSO ALSO this one has a trigger warning so please read with the thought that YOURE PERFECT!!!😤(if you write it)

OTAY OTAY soooooooooooo reader has been apart of the hotel for awhile and has developed a crush on Alastor from afar and the small instances they do cross paths but hesitates to approach him on her own because well we're shy and HES THE RADIO DEMON anyway reader doesn't have to worry about distance between them because Alastor is AVOIDING HER ALL ON HIS OWN 😯 AND somehow reader gathers the courage to approach Alastor but sees his relationship with Rosie (they're besties, platonic soulmates definitely) and thinks 'wow, she's so beautiful and...thin' and proceeds to lock herself away from everyone (SOLITUDE) and skips meals (starving herself), Alastor is the first to notice shes missin and pulling away but doesn't know how to approach her without stumbling over his words (i like to think that hes a heartbreaker to other women like his fans but with someone that he likes with real feelings hes fumbling in the dark because he could get rejected instead, i will die on the hill) so so so he hesitates to ask reader whats wrong till he hears her throwing up or she says something awful about herself and Alastor gets angry on her behalf and reader goes silent, only for Alastor to take a breath and tell her that 'shes hurting herself, for a shallow reason such as looks', and reader goes 'i thought you liked to watch others downfalls' and then hes like 'not your downfall, never you' 😔 reader starts to cry and shouts "im not Rosie', confused Alastor finally starts putting the pieces together and grabs reader hands and sincerely says "good, i wouldn't rosie anyhow, or anyone else for that matter', reader continuing to cry tells him to stop lying that this joke isn't funny and Alastor kissies her hand as says "whos joking? I only want you, your perfect" then then then slowly Alastor starts to help reader look at themselves in a more positive light [[fit this in somewhere???????Alastor tells reader why hes so close to rosie (he's clueless about reciprocated love so he goes to Rosie because canon that she knows matters of the heart...right?)]]

A/N as always i am obsessed with your request. Also I 100% agree with the assessment of Alastor's ability to talk to people he actually likes. I am literally so obsessed with this request. Also I am assuming from your previous comments you wanted the same bunny demon character?? Please forgive me if I am wrong but I did it for her (because I love her dearly and she is based of meeeee and I'm egotisticalllllll). Kisses bestie <3 <3

Downfall (Alastor x Chubby!Bunny Demon!Reader)

Paring: Alastor x Reader

Word Count: 4,076 (I got a little carried away)

Warnings: BODY IMAGE ISSUES!!! EDS!!!! I think that's it but they're in all caps for a reason so if you have ED issues maybe don't read this one??? It is hurt//comfort tho so maybe do???? Idk. If you get triggered by ed descriptions, don't. If having a fictional character tell you you're perfect the way you are and beg you to stop destroying yourself because they can't bear to watch would help you, do.

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Alastor Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

It had taken months. Months of wondering what he was like, of stolen glances, of furtive daydreams. Months of building up courage, of backing down, months of hoping and dreaming. It had taken endless encouragement from Angel, countless pages in her diary. It had taken a million deep breaths, ten thousand trembles of her hands. Months, it had taken months.

It wasn't like Y/n had never spoken to the man before. That wasn't really the issue. She wasn't scared of him, just scared. The simple idea of being alone with him was an intoxicating mixture of terror and utter bliss. Y/n didn't know how to handle it, she didn't know how to handle him.

Alastor was untouchable, nearly semi-divine in her eyes. Sure, he was fucked up, but they all were. At the end of the day, his facade was as easy to see through as a cheap paper crown from a Christmas cracker. Beneath the wide smile, the sharp teeth, the stories, Alastor was just a man. He cared deeply for the world around him, for the people around him and those in his life. No matter how hard he tried to disguise it, it always shone through to Y/n.

It wasn't like she had never spoken to Alastor before, she had just never spoken to him alone before. Every interaction they had ever had was as a part of the larger group of Hotel residents and staff. On the rare occasion they ran into one another in the hallway or happened to each be in the kitchen at the same time, Y/n froze up. Words turned to stones in her stomach and all she could ever seem to manage was a gentle nod, a shaky smile. It frustrated her to no end.

Finally, she had worked up the courage to talk to him. It was all Angel's idea really, she would never have had the thought to do such a thing on her own but his pushing had been relentless and at last, Y/n had agreed.

And it had taken months, months! This was her third attempt to go up to him. They had even lowered the stakes, Angel saying all she had to do was have a single normal conversation with the man and he would let her off the hook, stop his pestering and teasing. It was just her luck, really just her god damn luck.

Sir Pentious had informed Y/n that Alastor had left the hotel to see a friend, Charlie had given her the address of the cafe he had said he would be at should they need him. Everyone was all smiles, all encouragement. Y/n reminded herself to yell at Angel later for spilling her secret although, she guessed she shouldn't have expected anything else from the hotel's biggest gossip.

Putting on her favorite outfit, her hair all done up and makeup perfect, Y/n had slicked her ears flat against her head in determination and stepped out onto the streets of Pentagram City. It didn't take long for her to find the place, a sweet little cafe on the outskirts of Cannibal Town with white wrought iron chairs and a cheerful pink and purple sign. It hadn't taken her long to spot the bright red of Alastor's suit through the window either, standing out against all the muted purples and dark blacks of the other cannibals enjoying their meals within.

"It's fine. It's totally not weird that you're going up to him in a cafe he's having lunch in with a friend, that you.... oh my god Y/n!! He's gonna think you were stalking him! You should just go back and- no! You promised. Y/n, you can do this."

She took a deep breath, centering herself in that little core, that rod of who she was, that shot down the center of her being. Raising a closed fist to her chest, she shut her eyes.

"You can do this, Bunny." she reaffirmed, "You can do this."

Opening her eyes, she crossed the street. Her hand was inches away from the door's handle, her heart racing but set on what she was about to do, when Y/n noticed exactly who Alastor's 'friend' was.

Across the table from him, sipping delicately on a cup of tea, was the most beautiful demon Y/n thought she had ever laid eyes on. She had long, dainty fingers, thin and spidery, and the most perfectly proportioned body. She was tall, long legs sheltered by her skirt and a tiny waist that threw her hips and chest into contrast. The woman's hair was neat, tucked up beneath a wide brimmed hat. Her clothes were classy, her smile was bright and charming, the black holes of her eyes were... were... were everything. She was everything, everything Y/n wasn't.

Suddenly, the weight of her own body against her bones became all too real. She felt the urge to never be touched again, the same strange sickness of her youth sinking its teeth into the softness of her stomach, her thighs, her arms, all of her. Her hand lowered from the handle, Alastor laughing at something the woman had said to him. He seemed relaxed, more at peace than Y/n had ever seen the man before. If that wasn't love, she didn't know what was.

It took a second for the other residents of the Hazbin Hotel to realize the change. Y/n was good at this, she'd had practice. For years, she had worked to move past it all but the threat of a relapse had always hung over her head. It was her sword of Damocles, her fated demise.

Y/n retreated in to herself, she couldn't get the image of that woman out of her head. Poised, statuesque, thin. God, Y/n had never wanted anything more than she wanted to be thin. She wanted to rip fistfuls of flesh from her body, she wanted to wither away so only something beautiful remained.

Alastor was the first to notice. He had a soft spot for the rabbit demon who always seemed to be full of that soft, discrete joy and unending kindness. She was a more toned down version of Charlie. She was genuine and completely herself, no holds bared. She had such a hope, she had such a goodness, it made him wonder why she hadn't ended up in Heaven instead.

The truth was, behind the bravado and the grin, Alastor was scared of Y/n. He was scared he would touch her and she would rot away or worse, that she would run. She was just so good, so intrinsically wondrous, and he was the opposite. She was a fresh rose and he was the person coming haplessly along with a pair of gardening shears. She was radiant, she was carved fresh from marble, he was down bad.

Women had never been a priority or a problem for Alastor. Living and dead, they flocked to him. He knew his reputation was to blame, not to mention his looks. They could be fun for a while. Alastor saw charming them as a game, a good way to pass the time. This was different, Y/n was different. Alastor didn't know what to do so, he did nothing. He avoided her like the plague and when he couldn't, he practically ignored her, barley spared her a word.

Alastor was untethered, completely in the dark and so, he did what everyone does when they feel like that: he went to talk to his best friend. When he had gotten back to the hotel after his rather illuminating little chat with Rosie, Charlie had asked him if he had seen Y/n. It felt like divine chance, a cruel joke of fate, that the demon Princess would bring up the very source of his problems so soon after having at last pushed past his pride to ask for help.

When he had revealed the truth to the gang, that no, he had not in fact seen Y/n, they seemed deflated. There had been some sighs, some shrugs, shared glances he didn't understand and then everything had gone back to normal except, it wasn't quite normal.

Where Y/n could normally be found causing trouble, making mischief with the people who had so quickly become her friends since she had started her stay at the hotel out in the open, there was now a distinct lack of her jovial presence. She began taking her plates to her room at meals, showing up to group activities less and less, claiming she was tired or had a stomach ache. Alastor noticed every time he did manage to catch a glimpse of the marvelous and strange creature who had captured his affections so, she seemed utterly exhausted. Y/n was always bundled up, even on the warmest of days.

He wanted to go talk to her, wanted to ask her if she was okay. Alastor was worried -- genuinely worried -- about her. The only thing that stopped him from knocking every time he passed her perpetually closed door, was that he knew himself too well. He knew that the minute he entered, he'd lose his courage, that the words would become mush in his mouth.

It was pure chance, right place wrong time, that he heard it. Alastor had been following his normal routine, heading up to his radio tower for a broadcast after a group activity. Today had been Operation Navigation! As Charlie had dubbed it. She and Vaggie had built an obstacle course and everyone had a partner who was blindfolded and had to be guided through. When they got to the other end, the pairs had switched. Miraculously, Y/n had shown up to this event.

Alastor had watched her carefully, noting her sluggish movements and the way it took her a second to fully register what anyone was saying in a given moment. It was out of the ordinary and his worry only grew. He knew he was going to have to do something about it eventually but just didn't know how. Maybe it would require another visit to Rosie.

As he walked past the lobby bathroom, Alastor was pulled from his thoughts. The door was slightly ajar, sending shards of light out into the darkened hallway.

"Why isn't it working!"

Came the hushed yell of defeat. It was Y/n's voice, he'd know it anywhere. Alastor stopped walking.

"Why do I have to be..."

There was a sniff, the sound of something hitting the wall. Alastor realized it had been Y/n at the sound of fabric against the wallpaper. He could see her in his minds eye as she slid down the wall, pulling her knees into her chest.

"Why can't I just be skinny."

Y/n's words were muffled, soft and shaky.

"Why can't I just be pretty. Why do I have to be... to be..." her words were briefly broken by a sob, "why can't I just be good. I can't even fucking starve myself right. I wish..."

Alastor's body reacted before his mind could catch up, he knocked gently on the door. There was a little yelp of surprise from within, a few sniffs and some rustling fabric.

"Yeah?"

Y/n's voice trembled as she tried to keep the tears at bay.

"May I come in?"

Alastor heard the sharp intake of breath. It was too late to back down now. The silence was thick between them, it felt eternal.

"Okay." Y/n agreed at last, her voice small, and Alastor stepped into the room.

It was exactly how he had imagined it. Y/n was huddled on the floor next to the door, her knees tucked up under her chin and her arms holding her shins tightly. Alastor noticed that the thick, woolen sweater she had been wearing earlier had been tossed to the side, laying haphazardly beside the sink. Y/n sniffed again, trying to smile.

"Everything okay?" she asked and Alastor fixed his eyes back on her.

Y/n's eyes were rimmed with red. Her ears lay limply around her face which was stained with tears. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, she shivered.

"No. It's not."

She seemed a bit taken aback by his answer, not having grasped the reality of the cracked door earlier.

"I don't... what's wrong?"

"You are starving yourself." Alastor replied in a matter-of-fact voice.

Y/n's eyes went wide.

"Fuck... I... fuck!" she buried her face in her knees, "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"Are you trying to die!?" Alastor asked,

He didn't mean to yell, he didn't mean to be this angry. Everything he said seemed to send shockwaves of regret through his body. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to stop himself.

"Are you... I just... are you stupid?!"

Y/n looked up at him again, her eyes wet with fresh tears.

"I-"

"You what." Alastor scoffed, "You want to be pretty?"

"I..."

"You want to be pretty so you lock yourself away? You make your friends watch as you... as you what, as you get thin? As you destroy yourself?"

She was crying now, truly crying. Alastor looked away, a hand to his head. He took a deep breath, everything was going wrong. When he looked at her again, her cheeks were flushed from a mixture of shame and hurt.

"I just..." he took another deep breath, sinking to his knees before her, "Why would you hurt yourself so badly for something as.. as shallow as your looks?"

Y/n sniffled, frantically trying to wipe away her tears.

"What, I thought you liked to watch other people's downfalls." she tried to shoot back at him but her words came out stuttering and broken through the thickly falling tears.

Y/n refused to meet Alastor's gaze. Everything was going wrong. She was horribly embarrassed, she felt like a butterfly and Alastor was the terror who had opened her chrysalis too soon. He wasn't supposed to see her like this, he wasn't supposed to see her now. He was only supposed to get the after. It was all for him, after all, wasn't it?

Except, Y/n knew the truth of the matter. Alastor had been the trigger but, these behaviors were too well engrained. She might not have known it then, but she'd been looking for an excuse all along. It was all for her, every inch of agony.

His heart dropped at her words. Was that what Y/n truly thought of him? It would make sense, it was the face he presented to the world after all. He had just thought... he had hoped... Rosie had said....

Rosie. That was the answer. She had told him to be honest, to be vulnerable no matter how terrifying such a prospect could be. She had said it was the only way they ever had the slightest chance.

Alastor reached a hand out gently, turning Y/n to look at him. Her skin was soft to the touch, the beating of her blood thrumming against his fingertips. With the utmost care he could muster in his clawed and rotten hands, Alastor wiped her tears away. He couldn't meet Y/n's eyes but heard her sniffle, watched as the flow of sorrow slowed.

"Not your downfall." he said, his words like quiet feathers falling through the air, "Never your downfall."

At last he met her trembling gaze, fear coursing hotly through him, mingling with his blood. She took a few short, stuttering breaths before bursting into tears once again. Alastor flinched slightly as her head fell forward onto his shoulder.

"But I'm not that woman!"

"Woman... what woman?"

"The one you were with at the cafe!"

"The one... Rosie?"

Y/n nodded, sniffiling slightly as she tried to calm herself down.

"You saw me with Rosie? How?"

"I went... I'd been working up all this courage and... I just wanted to talk to you and Charlie and Pen said you'd be there and... and... and I'm not Rosie!"

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. He had been right all along, Rosie was the answer. With the air of someone who hadn't had much physical affection given to them in their life, or received any for that matter, Alastor slowly wrapped his hands around Y/n's shaking back.

"Good."

"What do you mean 'good'? She's so beautiful and she made you laugh and she's just... she's so beautiful and thin!"

"She is beautiful, and a lovely woman but, I don't want Rosie. Or anyone else for that matter."

Y/n's sobs redoubled, she began to struggle against his grip.

"Let me go! Stop lying, Alastor."

Alastor released Y/n from his grasp and she pushed herself back against the wall, utterly mortified and unable to stop. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking away.

"Stop joking, it's... it's not funny."

"Who is joking? I..." Alastor took a deep breath.

Rosie had been right, it was terrifying. He hope she was right on the second part too, that it would be worth it.

"Y/n, have you seen yourself?"

"Yes! Why the fuck do you think I want to be anything else?!"

Alastor got to his feet, holding a hand out to Y/n.

"Come with me."

"No." she mumbled, scooting further away from him if it was possible.

Under another circumstance, he would have chuckled lightly, he would have found her reaction adorable. This was neither the time nor the place and so, summoning his shadows, he transported them both into the darkness of his room.

Y/n looked around, pulling herself to her feet.

"Where... where are we?"

"My room." Alastor sat down on the edge of his bed, "Come here."

Hesitantly, Y/n took a few steps forwards. Once she was in reach, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his lap. The feeling sent sparks through his body, Alastor tried his best to ignore it. There were more important things than the pleasure of the moment. Y/n struggled against his grasp, the tips of her ears dragging slightly across his arms.

"Alastor! Let me go! I'm too heavy!"

"No, you're quite perfect actually."

"I don't want to be touched! I don't want you to... you're making me want to tear my skin off, please."

"No." his voice was firm.

"Please, just please let go of my waist at least."

To this, he relented, one of his arms falling loosely onto her lap as he held the other up, snapping his fingers. Shadow's flooded into the room, bringing with them a full length mirror. He felt Y/n tense in his grasp.

They came to a stop, setting the mirror on the ground before them. Y/n turned her head away, her eyes shut tight.

"Please stop, Alastor. This really isn't funny."

"Y/n."

"No."

"Y/n."

"No!"

Y/n, please."

She had never heard him say the word before. Slowly, she opened her eyes, craning her neck to look up at Alastor.

"I want you to see what I see when I look at you."

"You promise you wont be mean?" Y/n asked suspiciously after a moment.

"I pinky promise."

He had seen her do this before, with other residents of the hotel. A simple locking of pinky's was all it ever took to make a promise, to assuage her doubts, to show she cared. Y/n's eyes widened slightly. Slowly, she reached her hand out, locking her pinky with his. They shook their hands once, the way Alastor had seen her do it a thousand times before.

"Wait." Y/n said as he made to move his hand away, looking away bashfully, her cheeks a bright pink and her voice quiet, "Don't let go."

"Okay."

Taking a deep breath, she turned to the mirror. It was terrible, she felt bile rise in her throat.

"Y/n, you are so... every inch of you is perfect." Alastor took a deep breath, the way his voice trembled not escaping Y/n's notice, "You have... amazing legs. I know everyone's all obsessed with Angel's but, he has nothing on you walking around on those sticks. You're... you're all soft curves and lace. If you were made of anything, you would be satin. You are a nymph rising from the lakes, a wild maenad in the woods. Your eyes shine like true stars, not what we have here. Did you know rabbits were always my favorite animal?"

Y/n giggled slightly, her tearstained cheeks flushed pink.

"Well they were. They still are. Your ears are just to die for, dearest."

He felt her ears twitch slightly against his back at the comment and Y/n watched through the mirror as his smile softened at it's harsh edges.

"Your grace is what the Greeks wrote about. You... Y/n, the first time I set eyes on you, I felt like I was drowning." Alastor looked away, unable to meet her eyes even through the glass, "Like you were a siren and I was nothing more than a hapless sailor at your mercy."

"But you never talk to me."

"You never talk to me!"

Y/n laughed again, smiling a gummy smile.

"I don't have to talk to you to see who you are, Y/n." Alastor continued, his hand that was in her lap turning so his palm rested gently on her thigh, "You light up any room you're in. You are charming and clever and constantly on the look out for places you can instill your special breed of controlled chaos."

Trembling, he shifted his hand in Y/n's so he held hers, raising it to his mouth. The heat of his breath on her skin drove Y/n wild, her breath hitched.

"I am glad you're not Rosie, I don't want Rosie. I don't want anyone else except for you."

Alastor planted a soft kiss on the back of her hand and Y/n's smile only grew, her tears long forgotten now as she watched Alastor's reflection.

"You are perfect. Please, don't change yourself, don't hurt yourself, trying to be something else. I'd miss you."

Slowly, he let their still clasped hands fall into Y/n's lap.

"Do you see now?"

Y/n turned back to the mirror, her head tilted slightly to one side as she hummed in consideration.

"No." she admitted, "But I think I might be able to start."

"One step at a time." Alastor rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand in comforting circles, "I'll be with you the whole way, if you'll have me."

He held his breath, waiting for her reply. Y/n met his eyes through the mirror, her brow furrowed.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Who is Rosie?"

Alastor could have laughed, he nearly did.

"She is a very old and dear friend. I was going to her for advice, that day."

"You? Needing advice?" Y/n paused before shaking her head, "Nah, I don't see it."

She laughed lightly at her own joke and Alastor smiled softly back at her.

"It was advice about you, actually."

Y/n turned herself in his lap, looking up at him with her legs on either side of his own.

"About me?"

"Y-yes."

He cursed himself internally. Alastor hadn't meant to stutter, she just looked too lovely sitting there and looking up at him with her pretty pink lips slightly parted, her cheeks flushed.

"Well?" she asked expectantly.

"I..." Alastor felt the heat rising in his own cheeks and looked away, "well, I didn't know how to approach you."

"Wait, you were avoiding me this whole time?" Y/n laughed and Alastor nodded, "I thought I was avoiding you!"

"Wait, you were avoiding me?"

His gaze snapped back to hers and she laughed again.

"Yes! I was terrified to speak to you! You're so cool and hot and just... I'm not good at things like this!"

"You think I'm hot?"

"Is that all you got out of what I said?"

"Maybe."

They both laughed this time. Alastor's chest felt lighter than it hand in years.

"So," he began once they had both calmed down, "is that a yes?"

"To what?"

"To letting me... be... with you."

Y/n smiled, reaching a hand up to his cheek.

"That's a 'will you be with me?' I think actually."

----

Tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0@kahlan170

A/N Y'all, there were one or two times I almost wrote my name while doing this one. I've been writing x reader fics for eight years, this never happens to me anymore. I think I related a little too hard. I am x reader fic writing too close to the sun.

[churipu]

( OO2 ) ★ dude (romantically) , gojo satoru

featuring. gojo satoru x reader

warnings. cursing, 2006 highschool era, one sided enemies to lovers (alias u hate him bcs of "reasons", and u think he hates him too), gojo being such a fucking tease i love hate him so much, a lot of cringe and weird pet names from gojo bcs he's kind of a little shit, you being mean to him and you make him sad (but you'll make up dwdw, i don't need angst rn), um...kissing (yhyh u guys kissed, so what >:() // wc: 4.0k

ENTRY ( OO2 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE

"i hate you." "say that again?"

tags: @sad-darksoul, @sweeneyblue1, @idkuluka, @colorful-happy-shit

there are a lot of moments that you hate in life, but with all due respect, meeting gojo satoru has got to be at the top of your fucking list.

white hair, blue eyes deeper than the ocean. god, why does he have to be so pretty? why couldn't he be born with no hair and no eyes at all? because that, that would make it easier to hate him completely — yes, you're implying that he's physically attractive.

"hey, apple pie," gojo sings out, slinging an arm over your shoulder, "i missed you."

you pushed him away harshly, "don't call me that, gojo. and i don't fucking miss you," a strained whine escaped his throat as he feel the distance in between you both widen at your push.

"come on, sugar bear."

"jesus christ, stop calling me those fucking nicknames." you seethe out at him, standing up to walk away — escaping this hell, escaping gojo satoru and whatever tricks he had up in his sleeve.

"i know you like them," gojo sings out, skipping to catch up with you. shoving both of his hands inside his pockets, "come on, annoyed acrylic nail."

you stopped for a bit, amazed at the nickname. so amazed that you almost actually pulled out a laugh card at him — god, he's insufferable, "what the fuck was that nickname?"

"you kiss your mother with that mouth?" gojo asks, leaning down a bit to put his ugly face up close to yours. frankly, it's frustrating because he's an absolute beauty, what a prick.

"my mother's dead."

gojo widened his eyes a tad bit, "my god — pumpkin, it was just a saying." he sighs, scratching his nape awkwardly, "sorry for your loss."

you rolled your eyes, continuing your aimless walk. the sole point of this walk was to avoid the male, yet here he was, walking alongside you. silently. as you turned corners after corners, he trailed behind you, turning the same corners after corners.

"can you," i look at him, "leave me alone? why the hell are you following me?"

gojo shrugs, "no reason. can't i do that now?" you shook your head, "and why not?"

"this is — stalking. an act of following me around, i feel intimidated. do you want me to file a report, huh? huh?" gojo chuckles at your ramble, finding you quite adorable; in his eyes, you were like this small creature, trying to be intimidating.

"definitely not." he chuckled, "come on, chatterbox. you should let me take you out sometimes, what d'ya' think? sounds good?"

"no. just — don't talk to me, don't look at me, don't even breathe the same air as i am," you muttered out, flipping your middle finger at the male out of annoyance making him guffaw.

his slender fingers grabbed your hand, pushing it down gently, "are you implying that i should die?" his voice came out cheeky and teasing.

"yes."

he rolled his eyes, "you're gonna miss me when i do actually die, bet you'll cry and say y'miss me." the male laid his hand on top of your head — patting it lightly, "come on, bonbon. let me take you out, for food, for smoothies, for desserts. anything you want, i'll give it to you."

you heaved out a sigh, "gojo, no — just, no. and leave me alone."

the male eyes you, "you hang out just fine with suguru. all sunshine and rainbows, why d' you not give me the same treatment, huh?" he questions, almost offended at the thought of both you and suguru laughing and joking in front of him.

"'cause you're not him, obviously."

gojo furrowed his brows, expression filled with frustration, "what does that even mean? what's so different about suguru and i? he's a good guy, but 'm a good guy too. right?" he asks, voice low and meek.

"just — shut up, alright? leave me alone."

this time, the male complied; refusing to trail your figure as you disappeared around the corner. his eyes following you until you were gone, chewing on his lip in annoyance.

he didn't understand you, in his eyes you were like a lost cause. and it perturbed him, his peace, his life. the male is dying to know whatever the hell he'd done wrong to make you hate him so much, whether it being his constant nickname for you or was it because of the fact that he's always there to make fun of you?

gojo wouldn't be this bothered if you were like this to everyone. however — the fact is that you're only like this to him. and why? he didn't know.

and he hates it.

very helpful google.

the teen boy threw his head back, sighing out loudly — a few hours since that conversation with you and he still hasn't been able to get you out of his mind.

"what'cha doing?" a shadow peered over him, the white haired male fluttered his eyes open slowly; the afternoon sun gracing his face as he tries to make out who the person above him was.

"nothing," he muffled out, looking to the side — geto chuckled, jumping over the male's head before taking a seat next to him, "did you just jump over my head?"

"mhm," geto hums, "so? is it about y/n?"

gojo looks at his friend, "was it that obvious?" geto chuckled, nodding his head mutely, "try to think about it — as far as we've known each other, what the hell have i ever done wrong to them? i'm so lost."

"who knows? maybe they like you."

gojo rolled his eyes, "who in their right mind, would act like that to the person they like? that's just stupid." geto chuckled.

"people like y/n obviously."

the white haired male huffs out in defeat, "is it because of the weird nicknames? in my opinion, they're really cute. i mean — pumpkin, sugar bear, apple pie? you'd like to call your partner that too, right?" he babbles out, still in trance, wondering what he ever did wrong to you.

geto spared a glance at his friend, "no, that's stupid. it's pretty cringe," he honestly informed.

gojo's jaw tightened in response as he stared at his friend in betrayal, his lips parted as he wanted to deliver something — but the blue eyed male slowly shuts his mouth, pondering for a bit before delivering his comment, "okay, you're partly right. but i enjoy calling them that. they're cute, and my nicknames are cute." he pouted, his glasses slipping down a bit.

"annoyed acrylic nail? really? you can do better than that, satoru."

gojo's head snapped towards geto, "how'd you know about that one?" he narrowed his eyes.

"y/n, who else?"

"traitor. and mind you, i got that from a quiz i was playing on the internet."

geto tittered out in pure amusement, "they were just telling me about what happened," he explained, "and boy, was it interesting to say the least."

"what'd they say about me?" gojo asks, his voice soft. almost scared to question his friend, scared to hear about how you'd describe him — despite being this, "calm", "coolheaded" man he portrays, when it comes to you, it felt like judgement day.

"oh, nothing much," geto uttered out calmly, "how they can't stand you sometimes and how you maunder out the oddest nicknames on earth — oh, and how they find you physically attractive." geto finds himself whispering the last part.

geto was one to say the truth about these kind of things. except, he's now being a little cupid, alias . . . you never told geto that gojo is physically attractive. but the first two comments were the absolute truth.

"they did?" how cute.

geto nods his head mutely, "maybe you should go meet them, they were pretty intent on describing you as quote unquote, the most attractive boy they have ever met," the lie rolled over his tongue smoothly that gojo couldn't help but to grin widely.

"tell me about it, suguru. please, please?"

geto was most delighted to do so. the male enjoying this banter more than anything — if he wanted one result, it was to get you and gojo together. frankly, he finds it quite the mediocrity that you and gojo aren't in an established relationship as of now.

"they were saying how you have these pretty blue eyes that they'd love to look at every hour," geto started, "and how they actually don't mind some of your nicknames — like, sugar bear. they find it endearing."

little bastard. gojo was smiling like a fool right now, his long legs crossed happily as he sighed out in content, "i fucking knew it."

"well, what're you waiting for?"

gojo hops up, peering down at geto who was still seated, "i owe you one, suguru," geto chuckled, shaking his head.

oh, he owed me more than one. geto thinks to himself, waving his friend goodbye.

"hey, sugar bear." gojo confidently approached you, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk on his face, "i missed you."

groaning out in response, you covered your ears with the palm of your hands; not wanting to engage in the conversation right as it started. gojo chuckles softly, circling his fingers around your wrists, pulling them away from your ears, "come on, why're you always so mean to me?"

"you get on my fucking nerves. asswipe." you muttered out, pulling your wrists away, "and don't touch me."

gojo winced, "ouch. so, heard from someone that you called me attractive, huh?" his eyebrows danced up and down in delight, as if he was mocking you.

you arched your brow in confusion, because for all you know. one, you never said that to anyone. two, even if you did find him attractive, you didn't remember ever telling that to just anyone — hell, you don't remember telling anyone about it either.

"excuse you?" gojo gave you a lop-sided grin.

"so? why're you keeping up with the attitude?" he whispers out, shaking his head.

"gojo, what the fuck? who did you hear that from?" you interrogated the male, one of your hand resting on your hips, "whoever the fuck gave you that information is making shit up — no, i don't find you attractive."

the male rolled his eyes at your stubborn demeanor. well, you weren't particularly stubborn; you were partly framed at this point since you don't remember ever saying that to anyone.

"come on, why'd you have to lie to me? it's not like 'm gonna be angry or anything," you sent a sharp glare at him, because he is wrong for saying that — you made it clear you never expressed that forbidden thought to anyone. so why was he saying this to you?

"gojo—"

"why do you call suguru by his first name but me by my surname?" gojo cuts you off.

"gojo, listen—"

before you could say anything else, the male confidently hushes you down, yet again cutting your words off. and if there's anything else you hated more than gojo satoru, it's being interrupted while you were talking.

"gojo, respectfully, shut the fuck up." you scowled at him, and that indeed managed to shut him up almost immediately — the glare you had in your eyes signifying that you were actually serious. gojo can't help but to swallow the non-existent lump in his throat at the sight.

"i never said anything about you being attractive, and whoever the fuck said that to you is a pathological liar. this is getting tiring," you slowly, and calmly tell him. way too calmly for his liking, "you're bothering me. so with all due respect, can you like . . . maybe, leave me the fuck alone and never talk to me unless it's mission related. it's fucking annoying."

gojo was silent. he was clueless of how to react, a part of him wanted to get angry, he has so much questions to ask you. but another part of him just wanted to lay down low and walk away. and gojo went after the latter.

his stomach churned as he processed your words silently, his smile dropping, and his gaze softened. the male inhaled sharply before nodding his head, "okay, sorry."

and he turned his heels, slowly walking away out of your sight — you stared at his back, watching him walk further and further.

letting a string of curses escape your lips, you felt the urge to reach out to the male. call out to his name. say you were sorry and how you didn't mean that — god, sometimes you think it was you that should respectfully shut the fuck up.

" . . . goj—" you shook your head, deciding to just stay silent for now. for now.

this wasn't the first time you've told him off; and he always comes back the next day, so gojo would probably be the same old him tomorrow, right?

wrong.

gojo was dead set on what he was doing, avoiding you. and damn, he was pretty good at it — that it pisses you off. because why isn't he calling you those weird nicknames? why isn't he trailing after you anymore? why isn't he talking to you? why isn't he batting an eyelash at you? one week and still going strong.

"heartbreak problems?" geto appears beside you, taking a seat next to you, whistling out loudly, "over satoru? that's a first."

you wanted to retort back to the male, but honestly, there isn't any point to it. so you actually bobbed your head, "guess so," you muttered out lowly, balling your fists.

"what happened?"

his question made you side eye him, you were pretty sure gojo would've told him by now — after all, they're quite the pair at school. so this was an honest surprise, "shit happened. i said things that i obviously didn't mean, and now i'm suffering the consequences of my own actions, fairly enough, it fucking sucks."

"so, you're openly admitting to me that you do like him?" geto questioned softly, his eyes traveling to the ceiling of the classroom, "satoru? the one you shit-talk about every single day?"

you grunted, "jus' because i shit-talk him. doesn't mean i hate him," geto blinked feverishly before laughing out, "the hell are you laughing at, asswipe?"

"i told him you found him attractive. but i guess things didn't go as i expected," geto spouts out the truth, his laugh dying down slowly into a small smile, "what did'ya say to him?"

"thought you'd know by now, and that was you? fuck." you murmur out, "i told him to leave me alone and never talk to me unless it's mission related. i said it was annoying— that he was annoying."

geto hums out, "why're you always so angry towards him anyways?"

good question. why?

"that's . . . none of your concern, suguru." you ended up shutting down his question, chewing your lips in pure annoyance.

the male raises his hands up, "right. it's not mine — but it is satoru's, you should talk to him," he advices, "he's been miserable, trust me."

"he looks like he's doing fine, and doesn't he like . . . hate me?" geto raises a brow in disbelief, wondering if you were just plain dumb or too oblivious — or both. the male shakes his head, "oh. i thought he would by now."

"y'think he would do all that thing to you when he hates you?"

"well, it's him so it wouldn't be surprising. really." you chuckled out hoarsely, "and are you really giving me advice right now? because i can't fucking believe i'm actually getting an advice from you out of all people."

"that offended me." he smiled.

"well, sorry. i've never taken you for the advice giver type of person, so? is it really my fault?" you questioned, making the male roll his eyes in response.

"you have a man to chase, why are you still talking to me?"

right. you did, "bye suguru, i owe you one."

geto sighs out, remembering the same words that gojo had said to him a week before — and how the tables have turned. he was thoroughly enjoying this all.

"gojo."

the male stopped when heard your voice. your sweet, loving voice. oh how he missed it — your voice, your glare, you. finally sparing his first glance at you after a week.

it was hard. he's miserable. he wanted to approach you, he wanted to call you the nicknames he'd searched on google before morning comes, he wanted to talk to you even if it ended up on you scolding him with very nice words, he wanted to see you. gojo just wanted to see you.

the white haired male has never felt so miserable in his life. this was the farthest he has ever been from you, and it was honestly killing him inside.

"what?" he asks, wondering if he had done yet again, something to make you approach him first like such. because one thing he was confident in is that, you, y/n l/n, would never approach him for anything besides missions or . . . anger, "what did i do wrong this time? i didn't talk to you like you told me to. so?"

"you're fucking unbearable." you muttered out, fists balling tightly — very much angry at him, and at yourself.

gojo raises a brow, "i'm unbearable? what makes you think you can come up to me and tell me that?" he asks you, his voice soft, and a ghast of his blue eyes reflecting behind the dark lenses of his glasses.

"god, i hate you so much."

no, no, no. it wasn't supposed to go this way, you weren't supposed to say that you hated him — and the way gojo furrowed his brows at your statement made your heart drop. why couldn't you just mutter out the word "sorry" and everything would be back to normal.

when people tell you that, "sorry", "thank you", and "please" are the hardest words to say. you didn't take it literally — but now that you were in a position to say one of them, you could finally agree on it. why was it so hard to mutter out a five letter word?

"okay, you made it clear last week. what else do y'want me to say?" he muffled out lightly.

"i hate you." you repeated, "so fucking much."

gojo shakes his head, prompting to ignore you. he turned his heels and began to step away from you. he didn't need anymore hurtful words from you; from someone he deeply has feelings for, "don't fucking walk away," he heard you speak.

"don't . . . walk away." your voice dropped down a tone, "please."

the male hesitated, but he stopped walking in the end. gojo had only stepped away a few times and he couldn't fucking stand it, the way you called out to him — lord, if this hasn't been so serious. he swore he would be running to you right now, how he wanted to have you in his arms right now, even if it ended up with you pushing him away. he would take the chance.

it was better than having to ignore you like this.

"what?" he breathes out again, this time a little curious to what you had to say.

you blinked, parting your lips to say something, but nothing would come out. a few seconds passed, and your lips are still parted. and you were starting to grow desperate, desperate to say something — anything at this point. anything to make the male stay, to stop him from walking away.

"y/n . . . i don't have time for this." he mutters out, trying to keep his act up, even if he was fighting back the urge to just drop everything and run to you.

"no, wait. gojo— satoru." it took one specific word to roll over your tongue, and his heart was racing rapidly. his cerulean eyes intently looking at you from behind the dark lenses, "please, i . . . i'm sorry. i'm so sorry, so please don't walk away from me. don't do that again."

gojo felt his heart began to pound. the male stood there, his breathing growing rapid, "i didn't mean what i said to you — it was my fault. i'm fucking miserable, satoru. i don't know what to do," you tell him, voice lacing in desperateness, "i fucking hate you for this. i swear to god, it's disgusting . . . the feelings. i've never felt like this before and i hate it. i think about you all damn time, i hate you because why the fuck am i feeling like this? i can't stop, satoru."

the male parted his lips to respond, but you cut him off, continuing your words. groggily fiddling with your uniform, brows furrowed, eyes glassy, you continued, "so don't fucking walk away from me. don't fucking ignore me, please."

it took gojo no time to stride over to you, "fuck. do you know how fucking miserable i was for one. whole. week? do you think i wanted to ignore you? to not look at you?" his large hands cupped both side of your face, "i was fucking miserable, y/n. i just wanted you to know how much i fucking missed you. one day," he raises up a finger, "one day felt like a whole year, i can't stand it much longer. so, please — don't push me away anymore."

you look up at him, lips slightly parted, "i hate you."

gojo tilted your face up to him, "say that again?"

his fingers traveled down, brushing the skin of your neck vividly. even with his glasses on, you could see his eyes perfectly — and how they gleamed brightly. gojo smiles lightly, using his other hand to grab your right hand, placing your palm on top of his chest. where his heart was. the constant rapid thuds that you could feel against his chest made your heart flutter.

"god, i fucking love you," he breathes out, drawing your face towards his, his lips inclining towards yours — and your mouths fell together, a few seconds passed and gojo pulled back slightly, his lips parted, "i fucking love you, y/n," he whispers softly, capturing your lips into another kiss.

the hand you had on his chest lightly crumpled against his uniform, holding the male in place as you yearned more of the taste of his lips. it was vague, but you could taste strawberries — and . . . cream cheese. pulling away, you stared at him, "dude."

gojo arches a brow, etching your fingers off of his uniform. lacing them together with his — like a perfect puzzle piece, it was like his hand was meant for yours, and yours for his, "what did you say?"

clearing your throat, you said, "dude, but romantically."

the male chuckles, "you ruined our kiss and our moment, for that?" he pressed a kiss onto the tip of your nose, maintaining eye contact, "d'you know how long i've been wanting to do that? to kiss you?"

you shook your head, "no, but did you eat something with strawberries? and cream cheese? i could taste it."

gojo blinks, "oh, yeah. i had some daifuku," he replies, scratching his nape sheepishly, "why did you have to bring that up now, couldn't it wait until later?"

"dude." he looks at you in disbelief.

"but romantically, again." you added, and gojo smiles, "i can't help it — i don't know what to say."

"i do," he pressed a kiss into the hollow of your forehead, "date me. i promise i'll treat you well. i won't call you those nicknames anymore, just — i just need you to be close to me."

"what if i said no?"

"after that kiss?" he pulls away from you.

"kidding, dude."

the male whines, "stop calling me dude," he said, "can't you call me something else? baby? honey? darling? cutie? handsome? none of that?" he asks out.

"dude is pretty romantic." you rolled your eyes, "do you ever hear me calling anyone else with dude?"

he shook his head, "you never call anyone with a nickname anyways." gojo grumbled under his breath, looking away, "fine, what do you prefer? i don't do well with — nicknames."

"i like the sound of baby, or handsome. i am handsome, right? right?" you rolled your eyes, but gave out a subtle nod, "i knew it, you did find me attractive after all."

"shut up or i'm sticking with dude."

"no," he brushes his lips against your cheek, "i'm baby now. and you — you're sugar bear, pumpkin, apple pie, annoyed acrylic nail, and more to come."

"didn't you say you won't call me those nicknames anymore?" you questioned him with a light smile.

"uh . . . no, you heard wrong."

"okay, dude." you chuckled.

"y/n!" he whines.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[xsaltburnx]

Don't leave me

Comforting Farleigh after Felix's death

Farleigh Start x female reader

a/n: I really wanted to write this because I feel like Farleigh needed someone to comfort him and tell him everything's going to be alright after he got yelled at and he definitely deserved better, poor baby, (also that's what I think the scene is about, if I got it wrong, sorry)

warning: Felix dying, swearing, everybody treating Farleigh like shit, drugs, Farleigh crying a lot

word count: 3,299

You have known Farleigh for as long as you can remember. He's always been there for you. Your rock, your shoulder to cry on, someone who knew all of your secrets and all your problems, always ready to help you. Even if it was 4 pm or 4 am, you called and he was there.

And you were always there for him. Even though most of the times you two were on different continents and hours and miles away from each other, you never let something like that ruin what you two had. Then things started getting a lot easier because Farleigh came to live in England and since then you were inseperable. Yes, you did spend quite some time at Saltburn even when Farleigh wasn't here because you were really good friends with Felix and then later met Venetia, who you've clicked with just like that. Yes, sometimes they had their own opinion on Farleigh and sometimes you hated the way they talked about him but he somehow learned how to shake that off and not take it too seriously, so you did exactly that even though deep down it hurt to listen.

When you joined Oxford university, you and Farleigh became even closer and you eventually fell in love with him. You kept it a secret for quite some time because you were afraid to talk about your feelings because you didn't want to lose him. He was your home and you weren't planning on losing that, but luckily he felt the same and that was it. He was everything you always wanted and you swore you would never let him go or do anything that would harm him or let him battle his problems alone. No fucking way.

Everything was going great. You finished another year at Oxford, celebration obviously planned there and then later at Saltburn. Summer was about to begin and you had a feeling this summer was going to be one to remember. And oh boy it was.. but for very different reasons.

"Hey baby." Farleigh walked into your dorm, closing the door behind him, his arms immedistely wrapping around your body, hugging you from behind. "Did you finish packing?" He aks gently as he looked around the room, your clothes still splatered across the floor and your bed, messier than the first night you came here.

"Shut up." You playfully hit his arm as you heard him chuckle in your ear, his lips connecting with the top of your head in a gentle kiss. "I still have so much to do, I'll never make it in time."

"Yes you will, I'll wait for you, you know I'm not leaving." He spun you around, his hands resting on your waist as he pulled you closer and hugged you tightly, one of those as you called them grizly bear hugs.

"Then help me pack?" You batted your eyelashes at him and made a pouty face, hoping it would work.

"Oh no, that's not fair, don't do that, you know I can't resis that face" He said and kissed your lips swiftly, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Of course I'll help."

"Is anybody else coming with us?" You asked while folding your t-shirts, placing them neatly inside your suitcase.

"Oliver fucking Quick." Farleigh trailed off.

"What?" You quickly turned around to look at him, unsure if you heard that correctly. You obviously didn't like him, I mean Fekix though he was a very inspiring person but you and Farleigh? You didn't get the hype and always held him on his toes.

"Yeah, Felix invited him. I don't know why, something about him not wanting to go home because of his parents."

"Do Elspeth and James know that?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"Yes, apparently Elspeth is extremely excited to meet him. That'll be interesting." Farleigh closed one of your bags and placed it on his shoulder. "Damn, what do you have in here, rocks?"

"Very funny, no, all the vibrators you gave me." You said, laughing, seriousness washed over his face.

"Oh really?" He dropped the bag on the floor and grabbed your waist, hoisting your body up on his shoulder, his large hand smacking you on the ass. Your laugh echoed throughout the room, probably audible outside too, but that's how Farleigh always wanted you to be. Such beautiful laughter, it was like music to his ears, like daisies adorning a beautiful meadow. He gently put you down on the bed and laid on top of you, his thumb caressing your soft cheek.

"I love you." He whispered, a special kind of sparkle in his eyes, a smile plastered on his face.

"I love you too, Farleigh." His hot breath washed over your face, his lips slightly brushed yours before he kissed you gently, a moment of bliss before the big storm.

~ ° * ° ~

Summer at Saltburn? Always crazy and busy, but the busy part? Partying and laying out on the freshly cut grass or swimming in the pool. That was all you did there every summer. Not a bad life, you always thought to yourself, but sometimes it was nice to go back to reality and to a real life.You'd be lying if you said you didn't get used to this kind of life, the glamour, the dinner parties, dressing up,it was quite fun to a certain point. When it was too much, you and Farleigh packed your bags and left for a week or two, all alone, away from all of it. But to someone, this life was inviting them in more and more as each day passed.

And then the Cattons decided to throw Oliver a birthday party. 200 people? 300? You lost count. I mean if it's a party then it's a great idea, but for the entire night Farleigh had a very strange feeling about everything that night. He watched Oliver just skulk around almost every room in the house, people not paying too much attention to him. Most of them only knew him as "the birthday boy" but only a few of them knew his actual name. There was something strange about him, Farleigh always kept an eye on him.

...and he was right...

Around 11 am you felt someone shaking your body, trying to wake you up. You opened your eyes and saw Farleigh standing in front of you and you immediately knew something was wrong. His eyes were wide and his hands were shaking, his mannerisms completely different than how he usually is.

"What is it?" You asked and instantly sat up on the bed, fear in your eyes and in your voice, your heart suddenly picking up its pace, a sudden wave of ringing filling up your ears.

"Felix is missing." Farleigh trailed off.

"What?" You quickly got up and didn't even bother to put on shoes. You ran outisde and saw Venetia in the water, walking around, waving her hands underwater. You ran towards her with Farleigh, both of you joining her, hoping he's not in here and that he's fine. Then you heard a gut wrenching scream coming from the maze. You looked at Farleigh and instantly felt tears well up in your eyes. You shook your head and walked as quickly as possible to the edge, climbed and got up, the three of you running towards the maze.

You knew the maze like the back of your hand so it was easy to get to the center, but at that moment you wish that you could just get lost in there because what you all saw was something you would never be able to forget as it was buried inside you mind very deeply.

Felix was laying there on his stomach, golden wings still attached to his back. His body a pale colour, almost a hint of blue, his beautiful eyes now without that incredible spark that you got so used to seeing. His lifeless body was something you never thought you would have to see in your life nor did you want to but for some reason you couldn't look away.

Venetia, you and Farleigh fell to your knees, grasping onto one another, looking for comfort as tears just started coming out, the pain in your chest unlike anything you've ever experienced before. It was as if someone ripped out your heart, a huge hole right in the middle of your chest. Your ears started ringing and you felt like you were going to pass out. You suddenly felt like you weren't on this planet anymore, completely disoriented and if Farleigh and Venetia weren't grasping onto your body, you don't know how you would have dealt with this alone. You let out a loud scream, your chest convulsing from all the sobs that kept coming out of your body.

You don't know how or when you got up, left the maze and changed your clothes or when on earth did everybody gather for lunch, but there you were, sitting at the table with James, Elspeth, Venetia, Farleigh, oh and yes, of course, Oliver.

The curtains shut as the room plunged into darkness, making it look red like blood, not a hint of daylight. It somehow looked terrifying and gruesome, very unpleasant. You were sitting next to Farleigh, his face kind of emotionless as he kept staring at the table, not moving his gaze from the same spot. You reached out to him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it, making him snap out of his thoughts, a sob suddenly falling from his lips. On your left was an empty chair and an empty plate. Felix's spot and when you first walked in and saw it, you broke down again.

Suddenly there was a hint of a squeaking gurney on the outside, meaning they were passing the window with Felix's body and then there was a sound of doors closing. A tear rolled down your cheek as you closed your eyes, your hand suddenly slipping away from Farleigh's.

"Oh my God... May I be excused, please?" Farleigh whimpered and got up from the table, his cheeks stained with tears.

"No. We haven't finished lunch." James replied, not even looking at Farleigh.

"Lunch is cold. You want me just eat it like nothing is happening?"

"What else is there to do, darling?" Elspeth looked at him, sadness noticable in her eyes.

"Anything! Anything-" You looked at him as he screamed out, a whimper escaping your lips as tears started falling from your eyes again. The pain was unbearable and seeing Farleigh like that broke your heart and how everybody acted like nothing ever happened, like Farleigh was the only one who actually cared and the only one who saw how messed up it was that everybody was acting like this. James slammed his fists on the table, the plates clattering. You jumped, your body shook from fear, the sudden change in tone almost too much.

"Farleigh! Will you be quiet?! Sit down and eat the bloody pie! Just eat it! Eat it and shut up! Eat the bloody pie!"

Farleigh sat down and grabbed his fork, placing the pie in his mouth but unable to chew through the meat. Small pieces flew out of his mouth and onto the plate, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"You're not the only person here with feelings. None of us wants your bloody American feelings!" James trailed off and suddenly there was silence inside the room. You didn't even try to put anything in your mouth because you felt like you were going to throw up.

"I think it’s delicious." Oliver suddenly said, Farleigh snapping at him.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?" you look at Oliver and his expression and there was nothing on his face. Like he didn't care. You wiped away your tears and placed your hands in your lap.

"Wait, does no one else find it weird?.. No one else finds that weird?"

"Farleigh.." you whispered and placed your hand on top of his, your fingers grazing his in a comforting way.

"I wouldn’t throw stones if I was you, Farleigh." Oliver replied in a strict tone, a fork in his hand.

"Excuse me?"

"Please stop." Venetia sighed and said quietly.

"What is he saying?" James asked and looked at Oliver.

"I..I've no idea." Farleigh said, clearly confused what Oliver wanted to get with all of this.

"What I'm saying is that I'd feel guilty too."

"Guilty?"

"If I was the one racking up lines the night someone died."

"Fuck you." Farleigh stared back at him, cursing, only hate for Oliver in his body at that very moment.

"That's not a denial." Oliver replied as he leaned forward a little bit, his gaze moving between you and Farleigh.

"You took it too far, Oliver." You interrupted them, defending Farleigh.

"Is that true?" James asked, pale with fury. He looked towards Duncan signaling him to leave. "Search Farleigh's room."

"No." Farleigh crumpled into his chair and started sobbing. Now you were a little bit scared. Your eyes widened, not surely understanding what they were going to do about this situation. Seeing and hearing what was happening was making the situation even harder. You couldn't take your eyes off Farleigh and when you saw tears continuously welling up in his eyes, you couldn't help but start sobbing as well. Your heart was breaking.

"Get out." Sir James said angrily.

"Please, he didn't do anything.." You looked at Sir James, begging, trying to make him see that it really wasn't his fault and that he had nothing to do with all of this. Of course he didn't believe you, he didn't even acknowledge you.

"No, wait-" Farleigh whimpered and wiped away his tears with the sleeves of his jumper.

"What's happening?" Elspeth asked after wiping her mouth eith a linen cloth.

"Aunt Elspeth- Elspeth-" he said desperately but got interrupted by James.

"Don’t you dare look at her!"

Elspeth looked liked she was now ignoring Falreigh, not wanting to look at him at all. Could she ever look at him again after this? Who knows.

"Get out!"

Farleigh looked around the table, searching for somebody to look at him, to see they were making a mistake but no one looked at him except for you. Not even Oliver. He got up your hand slipped off, hanging next to your body. Your lip trembled at the sudden empty feeling, your head hung low as you kept staring at your fingers. Farleigh grabbed onto the chair, picking at the stitching.

"I won't mention this to the police. That's all you get. Nothing more. Ever again." James trailed off and that was the last thing you heard from him that night. Farleigh turned to the side and left the room, leaving you alone with the Cattons and Oliver. You wiped away your tears with the back of your hand.

"You didn't have to do this. It wasn't his fault." You snapped back at Oliver, his eyes quickly looking back at you. A hidden smirk adorned his face, a sinnister look in his eyes.

"You know he did it. He was racking up lines the whole night. Felix could've taken whatever Farleigh was using." Oliver replied, his plate now half empty. "Even when you two were fucking outside. It was like a freak show."

"Fuck you." You quickly got up and threw the linen clot on the table, your legs feeling like jello. "If you'll excuse me, I can't be in the room with someone who cares more about a fucking stranger than a member of this family."

You turned around on your heels and walked out of the room. The second you closed the doors, you let out the biggest sob, a long hallway making it echo throughout the house. You felt like you were falling apart from the inside out.

You stood outside Farleigh's room as you quietly knocked on the door, only a quiet sob audible. You silently opened the door and what you saw broke your heart completely. Farleigh was laying on the floor, his knees pulled towards his body, his arms wrapped around them as loud sobs fell from his lips.

You looked around his room and saw how big of a mess it was. Everything was scattered on the floor. His clothes, his books, all of his belongings on the floor. You bit your lip in hopes it would stop you from crying, but it didn't help.

You walked over to his sobbing figure and knelt down, your arms immediately wrapping around his body.

"Farleigh... baby.." you whispered, his body shaking.

"They think I killed him." He whispered through his cries, his tears soaking the carpet underneath him. "I didn't do it." His cries kept getting louder and it was harder for you to stay quiet because you couldn't stand him being like this, broken, like he didn't mean anything to anybody. Like it was all his fault. You wanted to fix everything and make it all okay for him because that's exactly what he deserved. He deserved better and to be treated right.

"No, Farleigh, you didn't do it. It's not your fault, please don't think that. You didn't kill Felix." You told him, your hands caressing his arms, comforting him, hoping it would help him even just a little bit.

"Now I feel like I did." He cried out, his face now buried in his hands.

"Hey, come here." You grabbed his arm and gently pulled him, moving his hands from his face. You intertwined your fingers with his and helped him sit up, his knees once more pulled towards his body. You wiped away his tears with your thumbs, gently caressing his cheeks before you cupped his face, making him look at you directly in your eyes.

"You didn't do it, why would you think that? Because of Oliver?" He just nooded and closed his eyes, a single tear rolling down his cheek. It felt like someone was sitting on your chest, the pressure and the pain in your heart from seeing Farleigh like this was unbearable.

"Fuck him, Farleigh. He's a nobody, a fucking leech and if I could get rid of him, I would. You're so much more than all of this. You deserve everything in this world and if they can't see it, fuck 'em." You trailed off, tears welling up in your eyes and your voice breaking every other word.

"Everybody is leaving me, pushing me away like I mean nothing." He sobbed and quickly got up as he started pacing around his room, his cries so loud that it seemed like he was fighting for air. You jumped up and stood there in place for a few seconds, somehow unable to move.

"Are you also going to leave me?" His voice cracked and right then he looked like a little kid. You dare to say that he looked absolutely defeated. "Please don't leave me."

A loud cry fell from your lips, his words hurting you, hurting how he thought that you would actually leave him after everything. You shook your head and practically ran towards him, your body smashing into his

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, your face buried in his chest as you sobbed quietly. His arms squeezed you, almost as if he was afraid if he held you lightly or if he let you go, you would somehow slip away.

"I will never leave you, Farleigh. I could never. You're a part of me and if I lose you, I'll lose myself. Please don't ever think that I would leave you." He kissed the top of your head, one hand still wrapped around your body while the other gently caressed your hair.

"Now let's get out of here. Okay?" You kissed him on the lips gently, his arms resting on your hips. You had to get out of this house, had to get away from Saltburn as soon as possible. The only good thing about all of this? Farleigh by your side.

"Okay."

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Bar Realizations

Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

a/n: I’ve had this story in my notes drafts for a hot minute but I never posted it but now I feel like I should.

ALSO!!! I HAVE TO START A NEW F1 &F2 MASTERLIST SO BE ON THE LOOKOUT FOR THAT!!!!

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

Instagram

Marvel Masterlist

I had always known I was different. From the time I was little, strange things happened around me. Objects moved without cause, emotions surged uncontrollably, and the whispers in my head never ceased. When I discovered the full extent of my powers, I knew I needed help—someone who could guide me. That's when I met Charles Xavier.

He was young, kind, and immensely powerful. His ability to control and influence minds was unparalleled, but it was his patience and understanding that drew me in. He offered to help me harness my abilities, and I accepted, desperate to gain control over the chaos within me.

The process was grueling. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, filled with intense training sessions, meditation, and mental exercises. There were moments when I wanted to give up, when the weight of my powers felt too heavy to bear. But Charles was always there, encouraging me, pushing me to my limits, and teaching me to master my abilities. Over time, our relationship deepened. I found myself drawn to him, not just because he was my mentor, but because of who he was—compassionate, intelligent, and incredibly attractive.

One evening, after a particularly challenging session, Charles suggested we take a break. “How about we go out for drinks? Just the two of us,” he said, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

My heart skipped a beat. Was this a date? Did he feel the same way about me as I did about him? Trying to contain my excitement, I agreed, and we made our way to a cozy bar in town.

The atmosphere was perfect—dim lights, soft music, and a sense of intimacy that made my pulse quicken. We sat at a corner table, and for a while, everything felt perfect. We laughed, talked about everything and nothing, and I felt closer to him than ever before.

But then, she appeared. A tall, confident blonde with a predatory smile. She sauntered over to our table and immediately latched onto Charles, ignoring my presence entirely. “Hey, handsome,” she purred, placing a hand on his arm. “Mind if I join you?”

Charles tried to gently extricate himself from her grasp. “Actually, we’re on a date,” he said, nodding towards me.

The blonde glanced at me and scoffed. “Yeah, right. Like he’d ever go out with you.”

The words stung, and anger flared within me. How dare she dismiss me so easily? I felt a surge of energy, the familiar tingle of my powers awakening. Discreetly, I focused on her, channeling my emotions into a subtle spell. Suddenly, the blonde started babbling, spilling embarrassing secrets about herself.

“I can't believe I lost my job today,” she blurted out, her eyes wide with horror. “And my ex dumped me because I cheated on him. Oh my god, why am I saying this?”

She turned and fled, humiliated, leaving Charles and me alone once more. I felt a pang of satisfaction, but it was short-lived. Charles turned to me, his expression serious.

“Did you use your powers?” he asked quietly.

Guilt washed over me, and I nodded. “I’m sorry. I just... I don’t know. I felt jealous, possessive. I wanted you all to myself.”

Charles sighed and suggested we head back to the school. The drive back was silent, the weight of my actions pressing down on me. Had I ruined everything? As we pulled up to the mansion, I couldn’t bear the silence any longer.

“Charles, I’m sorry,” I said, my voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to lose control. I just... I care about you so much, and seeing her with you made me feel... threatened.”

He remained silent, his face unreadable. As we entered the mansion, I turned to head to my room, wanting to escape the shame and disappointment I felt.

But then, I heard his voice in my mind. “Y/N, I’m not mad or disappointed. In fact, I’m feeling quite the opposite. That was the hottest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

I stopped in my tracks, my heart racing. Turning around, I saw him standing there, a faint smile playing on his lips. Before I knew it, Charles closed the distance between us, his lips crushing against mine in a passionate kiss.

My body responded immediately to his touch, my desire for him igniting like wildfire. I moaned into his mouth, my hands roaming over his strong chest as I returned his kiss eagerly. Charles' taste and touch were addictive, and I already knew I would never get enough of him.

Guided by pure instinct, Charles backed me up against a wall, his lips never leaving mine as he reached behind me to open a nearby door. Still kissing me deeply, he backed us into his bedroom, our mouths fused together.

Breaking the kiss briefly, Charles growled softly, his breath hot against my ear, "Get on the bed, baby." His voice was thick with desire, and I felt my core clench at the commanding tone he was taking with me. I wanted him to take control, to show me just how much he wanted me.

I did exactly as I was told, my heart pounding in my chest as I climbed onto the bed and looked up at Charles expectantly. He reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it, revealing his muscled chest and abs.

My mouth watered at the sight, my eyes roaming over his defined body as I licked her lips subconsciously.

Charles kicked off his shoes and undid his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers, his hard length springing free. Pre-cum glistened at the tip, and my pussy clenched at the sight, my own clothes feeling too tight and restricting.

"Take your clothes off for me, baby," Charles demanded, his voice hoarse as he watched her intently. "Show me that beautiful body."

I sat up, my hands shaking slightly as I lifted my top over my head, revealing my lace bra and the swell of my breasts. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my jeans, shimmying out of them, and then slowly stepped out of my panties, now completely naked and on display for Charles.

He groaned, his eyes raking over my body, taking in my breasts and smooth pussy. "You're fucking gorgeous, you know that?" He took a step closer, reaching out to trail a finger along my inner thigh, his touch sending shivers through me.

"Charles..." I whimpered, my voice filled with need. I had spread my legs slightly, inviting him to touch me where I wanted and needed it the most.

As if reading my mind, Charles smiled wickedly, lowering himself between my thighs. He nuzzled my creamy thighs with his face, placing soft kisses along my sensitive skin as he made his way closer to my core.

I sighed, my hands threading through his hair as I savored the feel of his lips and tongue on my skin.

"Mmm, you taste so sweet," Charles murmured against my pussy, his warm breath teasing me. He kissed my inner thighs again before finally zeroing in on my center, his tongue snaking out to lick a long, slow stripe along my slit.

I cried out, my hips bucking involuntarily as I felt his tongue swipe through my folds, collecting my essence. "Oh God, Charles!"

Encouraged by my reaction, Charles gently gripped my thighs, spreading me open further to give him better access. He swirled his tongue around my clit before sucking it into his mouth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. At the same time, he inserted two fingers into my dripping core, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot inside me.

"Fuck, yes!" I moaned, my body writhing on the bed as Charles ate me out with skill and enthusiasm.

My hands grasped the bedsheets as she surrendered to the waves of pleasure washing over me. Charles devoured me eagerly, clearly enjoying the sweet nectar I was offering him.

It didn't take long for me to climax, my walls clenching around Charles' fingers as I cried out his name.

Charles hummed in satisfaction, licking and lapping up my juices as I rode out my orgasm. But he didn't stop there, continuing to work his magic with his tongue and fingers until I was trembling with sensitivity.

"Please... I can't take any more," I panted, my body still throbbing from the intense orgasms. "I need to taste you now."

With a grin, Charles withdrew his fingers and tongue, giving me a moment to catch my breath. Then he climbed up the bed, positioning himself above me. I reached for his throbbing cock, wrapping my hand around the shaft and stroking him slowly as I guided him to my waiting mouth.

I swirled my tongue around the engorged head, tasting the salty pre-cum before taking him deep into my mouth. Charles hissed, his hips bucking slightly as he threaded his fingers through my hair, gently guiding me as I sucked him off.

I took my time, swirling my tongue around his length, sucking and bobbing my head as I looked up at him through my lashes. I loved the power I felt in this position, knowing that I could bring this strong, powerful mutant to his knees with just my mouth.

"Fuck, Y/N... that feels so good," Charles groaned, his hips picking up a slight rhythm as he gently fucked my face.

I hummed in response, the vibration making Charles grit his teeth. He couldn't hold back anymore; he wanted to feel the tight heat of my mouth around him as he came. With a low growl, he began to thrust into my mouth, his pace quickening as he chased his release.

"Fuck my face, Charles," I moaned, loving the feel of his hard length sliding between my lips. "Cum for me."

my dirty words sent Charles over the edge, and with a hoarse cry, he spilled down my throat, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself into my eager mouth.

I savored the taste of him, swallowing every drop he gave me as he rode out his intense orgasm.

We lay together for a moment, catching our breath, before Charles gently withdrew from her mouth, a satisfied smile on his face. "You are amazing, baby."

The comment made me blush, a happy warmth spreading through me as I reached up to kiss him. "Your turn to lay back and enjoy the ride."

With a twinkle in his eye, Charles lay back on the bed, his hard cock standing proud as he watched me straddle him. I smiled wickedly, reaching for a condom from the bedside drawer before rolling it onto him with ease.

I took my time, rubbing my slick folds against his length as I teased us both. Charles hissed, his hips bucking slightly as he tried to urge me down onto him. "Tease," he accused playfully, reaching up to tweak my nipples, making me gasp.

"Impatient," I retorted, aligning myself with him before slowly sinking down, taking him deep inside me. We both groaned, I threw my head back as I savored the feel of him stretching me.

Charles' hands gripped my hips, guiding me as I began to ride him, my tits bouncing with each bounce.

The sound of our skin slapping together filled the room as I picked up the pace, my hips moving in perfect rhythm. Charles thrust up to meet me, his hands squeezing the flesh of my ass as he helped to guide me onto him.

"You feel so good, baby," Charles panted, his eyes closed in ecstasy. "So wet and tight."

I moaned, my head falling forward as I got lost in the sensations. Charles' cock hit all the right spots inside me, and I could feel my orgasm building already.

Reaching between us, I started to rub my clit in tight circles as I rode him harder, my breath coming in short gasps. "Oh, fuck... I'm gonna cum, Charles."

"Cum for me, baby," Charles urged, his voice thick with his own desire. "Let me feel you squeeze my cock with that tight pussy."

As if on cue, my walls clenched around him, my juices flowing as I cried out his name. Charles groaned, his hips snapping up to meet mine as he thrust into me one last time, spilling himself into the condom.

Our bodies shuddered together as we rode out our intense, mutual orgasm.

Collapsing onto his chest, I felt Charles' arms wrap around me, holding me close. We were both sweaty and sticky, but the post-coital glow and the feeling of satisfaction made it all worth it.

"That was incredible," I murmured, placing a soft kiss on his chest.

Charles smiled, his hand gently tracing invisible circles on my back. "It certainly was. But we're not done yet."

I lifted my head to look at him, a mischievous glint in my eye. "Oh, really? And what did you have in mind?"

Charles' gaze darkened with desire. "I want to try something different. Something a little wilder."

Intrigued, I bit my lip. "Like what?"

Charles rolled them over, pressing a kiss to my neck. "You'll see," he whispered, his hand reaching down to stroke my slick folds. "But first, I want to taste you again."

————

My first Marvel story!!!!

Taglist:

@hiireadstuff @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @dhanihamidi @eddieharrington @tallrock35

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

So happy your back!!!😊😊❤️could you please do one where the readers (Baldwin Iv’s wife’s) mind work differently, for example she doesn’t understand jokes or sarcasm, doesn’t pick up on social cues, brutally honest, obsessed with organization and cleanliness, but very smart and kind and she’s very self conscious because she knows she’s different and Baldwin reassures her that her mind is a gift from god, and that he loves her, later on Baldwin hears people gossiping about her because she’s different and gets angry and confronts them and defends her. Thank you! 😊

♡ Gift From God - King Baldwin x Reader ♡

♡ Fluff ♡

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you for the request and your kind words 🩷, I'm so sorry this has taken so long to get to, I have been so busy 😭. I hope you enjoy! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy, Self Doubt

Y/n had always been different. For her entire life, she never truly felt the same as everybody around her.

Not her brothers and sisters or her friends. Especially not her parents. Her father was a lord with much land. He was powerful and required respect.

Many times through her life he had become angry at his daughter for speaking out of turn during important meetings or events and embarrassing him.

Y/n was intelligent. Women were not supposed to be intelligent, they were supposed to bear children and take care of their husbands. They were supposed to be silent.

Y/n was far from silent.

She spoke her mind. She simply couldn't help it and did not understand why so many were offended by her. She never meant to harm anybody, it just happened.

Her intelligence left many feeling threatened by her with the blunt remarks and witty replies. Because of this, she had been rejected by many men who her father wanted her to marry.

The young lady was kind, organized, clean and tidy.

“I would make a perfect wife!” she thought one day. “Why am I not enough?”

She felt alone in the world for many years, until he came along. The king of Jerusalem himself who her father had arranged for her to marry.

No matter how much she protested this, her father was insistent.

Y/n had come to believe she was unlikable and would never make a good wife. It wasn't that she did not want to be married, she simply believed that no man would want to marry her.

But this simply was not the case. From the day he laid eyes on her, Baldwin was in love. She was beautiful. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and after speaking to her for the first time after the wedding, she was even more beautiful in his eyes.

Her words were like magic, leaving him hanging at the end of each sentence. He loved how she spoke so honestly.

To the young king, she was different to every woman he had ever met. She was unique and reassured her of his such feelings. He loved everything about her.

The two were a perfect match. They played chess, studied in the library, and had many deep conversations well into the night, lying side by side in a comfortable bed.

They spent every possible moment together.

Y/n had been nervous at first, desperately trying to remember everything her mother had taught her about being a good wife, but her nerves were soothed with each moment she spent with her new husband.

Baldwin was gentle and kind, patiently reminding her of social hints that she missed in public and doing everything he could to stimulate her sharp mind. 

They had been wed for a few weeks and everything was perfect. The castle had taken a great liking to their new queen and Baldwin could not be more pleased.

She fit right in.

Until one day, the young king overheard something that made his blood boil.

Guy De Lusignan, his sister's husband, sat in the dining room, speaking with a small group when Baldwin heard him mention the name of his wife.

The young king stopped to listen with his ear against the door.

“She is a total freak,” the older man said.

“Can't take a joke, blunt and cold. I don't know what the leper sees in her. HAH! What am I saying, they are perfect for eachother! They can hide away in his chambers and play chess all day like the freaks they are-”

Baldwin had heard enough and pushed open the door, taking the air out of him slightly but he did not care.

“How dare you speak ill of my wife! Not just my wife but your queen. Show some respect for your higher ups, you ungrateful bastard!”

It was not often that the young king raised his voice, but when he did, even the most arrogant listened.

Baldwin even shocked himself with the sudden outburst.

“Y-yes my lord. I apologize” Guy stammered out, standing and taking a small bow with that half smile Baldwin despised.

“Get out of my sight. The lot of you” he growled sternly.

The group obliged and scurried off, leaving Baldwin to his thoughts.

He took a seat at the table with a pained groan. How could this happen? Why did Guy have to be so cruel? He simply prayed that his beautiful wife never heard that rotton man speak about her like that.

It would break her heart.

She had been doing so well, finally accepting herself and coming out of her shell and all.

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

Baldwin returned to his chambers to find y/n tidying up his desk. Upon noticing him, she turned to her husband with a smile.

“Hello darling! I figured I would tidy up a little while you were out!”

Baldwin smiled, his heart relaxing in her presence.

“Thank you my love” he said gently, taking his wife in his arms.

Pleasantly surprised by the sudden affection, y/n wrapped her arms around him in return.

“Never change y/n. You are a gift from God Himself. I adore you just the way you are” Baldwin sighed.

The young queen smiled, looking up at him.

“Thank you sweetheart. I love you just the same and I always will

[h3yl4dies]

𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒!!!

Small message : I might make a part 2 about this, if I planned to make one then I will put the link down below of the part 2

Warnings ⚠ : a bit mentions of anxiety

Type : hcs (headcannons)

Pairing : tsukishima x reader, kageyama x reader, bokuto x reader, Dachi x reader, oikawa x reader

✰ 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐄𝐈

At first he would be a bit nervous since he never slept beside a girl

He would probably sleep at the edge so he would avoid touching you during the night

He would make sure your comfortable

He felt safe around you so he fell asleep well

He had a good sleep

Sometimes he would turn around to check on you slowly

If you suggest holding hands he would probably accept it but you could always feel his hand sweating a bit

If you suggest cuddles he will have a light pink blush on his cheeks, he probably.. Will allow cuddling???

Tsukishima isn't the type of guy who would suggest cuddling but if you want to cuddle with him, he wouldn't mind

✰ 𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐎

Oh boy, he's a blushing mess!

his heart would nearly explode when you suggested sleeping together

His anxiety is KILLING him

Dear Lord save him he's gonna turn into a blushing reddened tomato the whole night

He couldn't even sleep the whole night

Would probably tremble and shake the whole bed

HE'S INSTANTLY SWEATING

When you suggested sleeping together, he acted tough and accepted it

But right now, he's melting apparently

If you suggest holding hands, he would FLINCH

Hold his hand? Be ready to feel hotness and sweat all over your hand

Cuddle? He's dead.

✰ 𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎

Okay first of all.. He is not AFRAID to sleep with you

When you suggested sleeping with him, he would burst into happiness and gladly accept it

Would probably cuddle you first instead of you doing it

Holding hands and cuddling is his thing

BIG SPOON BIG SPOON 🚨

Also.. He snores.

Technically, it would be annoying trying to fall asleep when bokuto is snoring and you can't do anything to stop him from snoring

If your uncomfortable with him cuddling you then he will leave you alone with a small sad face (poor bokuto 😭)

But mostly, it feels safe and comfortable sleeping with him and cuddling with him

His body temperature is usually warm so if your cold, GET YOUR TEDDY BEAR TO WARM YOU!!!

✰ 𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀

For what I might say.. He's a gentleman

BIG gentleman

Your cold? He will share you his blanket

You hot? He will turn on the air conditioner!

Any problem can be solved by him so you do not have to worry

He really wants you to sleep comfortably so if you have any problems please tell him

Cuddles? Sure! Your welcomed to be cuddled by him!

Holding hands? No problem! He finds it cute and adorable to hold hands while sleeping together

HE'S A HUSBAND MATERIAL!!!!

Ilysm sm I am now jealous (please let me sleep with daichi next)

He wants to make you feel extremely comfortable and safe

So you might expect forehead kisses and neck kisses from him during the night

✰ 𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐔

Omfg he's so flirty

When you suggested sleeping with him, he was like "omgggg y/n chan really wants to sleep with her handsome boyfriend?!?!?! Of course I cannot resist!!! "

Has a HUGE ego

He would literally stare at you sleeping nearly the whole night omg 😭

Probably showed off to kageyama that he has a girlfriend and he doesn't 💀

Anyways back to the head cannons, I feel like his body temperature would be COLD

So if you feel cold, he can't help you with that butttt.. He has a lot of blankets

Literally 3 pillows and 4 blankets

Would try SO HARD to touch you and cuddle with you

He's touchy

When you sleep with him, he would always has a small smile while sleeping

Anyways! That's all I hope y'all enjoyed reading and I am so so so sorry this was a bit short because this was a bit rushed and I had a hard time figuring new head cannons for it 😭

[pricegouge]

I got thinking of all the other fun ways you could sensually burn someone that doesn't involve the possibility of giving your partner a third degree burn, so here's John refusing to put his cigar out on you.

John Price x gn!reader. Could be a soldier or a civilian, doesn't really matter

cw for drinking. burning, obviously. including 'light' branding. mouth as ashtray. unsafe + under negotiated kink practices. use of 'sir'. spit kink (why am I writing this so much lately?) brief mentions of sex, but nothing explicit here. mostly just weird ass fun. super abrupt ending/no aftercare because i had chores to do and wanted to wrap this up. not edited either, sorry. 

The first time you'd asked, John had looked considerate for all of two seconds before hitting you with the 'not tonight, love,' and distracting any follow up requests you might have had by fucking you so good and deep you were fairly certain you'd been bruised with the shape of him. He never brings it up again, so you do, weeks later, when he has you on your knees between his own, head tilted onto his thick thigh while he simply enjoys the taste of his cigar. He doesn't even bother touching you, one hand cradling a glass of scotch on the arm of his chair, the other rotating the smoking object of your attention.

"I want to try something," you mumble, voice low. Embarrassed. You hate asking for things twice, afraid to seem needy. But John had never given you a reason as to why he wouldn't do it last time, so you bite back your shame and hide yourself away amongst the folds of his thick cargos when he looks down at you. They've been softened over the years by wear and sweat, the weave buffed so thin it pills in the places his holster would rub against it. You rub your lips over them. Distracting yourself, maybe. Desperate for his softness, more like. Still, that's not what you ask for when he prompts you to continue. 

"Want you to put that out on me."

You don't bother clarifying what you're referring to. John knows. 

He places it in the ashtray now, leaning forward to run his hand over your scalp, calluses catching. There's still some smoke stuck between his teeth. It spills out across your face when he speaks, cedar and tea. "Not sure that's a good idea, pet."

You want to tell him of course it isn't, that you want his indifference. To bear the brunt of his recklessness. But John has always kept that side of himself carefully sequestered away from you, and admitting what you want in this case will only draw it further away. So when he looks down at you, eyes kind but confused, you can only whisper a soft, "Please."

John sighs, chest swelling and falling as he slumps back into his seat. He's not unsympathetic as his thick knuckles brush your temple, stroke the crest of your ear. "We can find something else for you," he hedges.

"But I want -."

"Is it the cigar itself? The smoking?" He sounds doubtful, knows the only time you smoke is when he breathes it into your lungs himself. Knows you don't plan on changing that any time soon.

But he's wrong because it is the cigar, and the smoking, and it's John most importantly. His scent, the authority he carries so effortlessly, so intricately tied to the hyper macho habit that shouldn't work but does because he can't help being himself. You don't know how to articulate that though, let alone explain why you want it seared into your flesh. Instead, you simply say, "Yes."

"Right," John grunts. "I thought about it, after you asked." He pulls a face, distasteful, continues, "Don't relish the idea of giving you such a nasty scar, pet."

"I'd take care of it," you gripe, pouty. John gives you a look that dares you to interrupt him again.

"I know you would. Always do such a good job taking care of me," he winks. "But there are tars and such in cigars that hinder the healing. Not to mention the ash that winds up in the wound," he grimaces.

For a moment, you allow yourself to fantasize; imagine that the oils would be trapped in your skin forever, that the burn would be left smelling earthy and dense instead of barbeque and antiseptic. But you know he's right, and acquiesce with a nod.

Thoughtful, John's hand leaves your face to take another drag. "C'mere," smoke leaks from his lips like a faucet as he says it and you know he'll offer you a drink in consolation for the request he's denied you. You're not disappointed when he guides you closer to him with a heavy palm on the nape of your neck, the warm butt of the cigar just slightly damp where it presses into your skin there. You take John's offering happily enough, take his cock even more enthusiastically after that.

No, the disappointment doesn't set in until the weeks that follow come and go, and the only indication you receive that John's even thought about your request comes in the form of a box of strike anywhere matches on his office desk one morning, a bic the next.

***

He waits until he returns from leave, ensuring you've been good in his absence before giving you your reward.

"Kneel, pet." He nods at the pillow set to the right of his office sofa, minimal and threadbare, cozy enough to pad your achy joints just fine. He uses it to soften his desk chair when you're not using it, you know. He would never make you use something he hadn't properly vetted first, after all.

You pout, having expected to be sat on his lap for your reward like you always are, but John just tuts, eyes warm.

"You'll like it, I promise."

He waits until you've settled to start setting up. He brings a decanter of scotch over with two glasses, pours you both one. He places his own on the side board and yours upon the coffee table. You don't reach for it, too busy watching his movements. Choosing a cigar is a long, drawn out affair involving much sniffing. Occasionally, he'll offer one to you to sample, taking into consideration whether the leathery notes make you crinkle your nose, or if the floral scents make you tilt in consideration. Whatever he settles on, he does not offer you a chance to veto.

You expect him to sit down after that, but he pats his pockets down theatrically, moving to his desk one last time when he finds them empty of whatever it is he's looking for. You don't bother hiding your interest as he shuffles through his drawers, but before you can catch a glimpse of whatever he's after, he turns his mischievous eyes on you.

"Eyes forward. Keep your mouth open and your teeth bared."

A gag? Some reward. It's a struggle not to roll your eyes, but you know John hates a brat, and you don't want to ruin whatever fun he's got planned for you tonight, so you do as you're told, staring up at the collection of framed medals hanging above the couch while he rumages about for a moment longer. When he comes into your peripheral, you hear him carefully lining some objects along the coffee table, but you don't dare look.

John notices, humming appreciatively as he finally takes a seat at the end of the sofa. "Being so good for me already, pet." His knuckles are heavy and rough where he strokes your temple, down to your jaw. You watch his eyes, note the way they cloud darker as his fingertips find your teeth. Along your bottom incisors, up to push against a canine. He calls you a good pet when the pads of his fingers stick to your dry enamel, and you cock your head in confusion. 

Smiling, John pinches your front teeth between thumb and forefinger, rubbing back and forth as is memorizing all the dips and edges. A small sound escapes your throat, unsure if you should be worried he's going to try pulling one. But John's eyes are far from cruel when his fingers abandon your teeth in favor of bringing his free hand to your face. You feel something coarse brush your bottom lip briefly, and then gasp and reel back in surprise when a soft pop is the only warning you get before a match ignites in your face.

John pays you no mind, twirling the end of his cigar over the match while you struggle to figure out why you taste sulfur. Your fingers find your teeth as if checking they are still there, relief flooding into understanding as you feel a foreign, chalky powder on the tip of your dry tongue. He'd struck the match off your teeth, the cocky bastard.

When the match goes out, John's cigar is only half lit. Reaching for another match, he tuts at you until you get your hands out of his way, offer up your fucking teeth for his use again. This time, you're expecting the strike and you don't flinch away when it ignites, heat spilling across your cheeks while he lets it burn for a moment just inches away. 

This time, when he lights his cigar, he puffs on it like one would light a cigarette, thick clouds of smoke building around him. "Close your mouth, pet. Get it nice and wet," he mumbles between deep drags.

It would be embarrassing, the speed at which you obey, if not for how sure you are that you will like your reward. Sure enough, by the time John's cigar is lit, the match has burnt down to his fingers, and he leans over you expectantly, spitting on your tongue when you open your mouth for his inspection. His eyes lock on your when he lowers the burning match stick to your tongue, but if he expected to find protest, he doesn't get any. 

The match tastes like ash, but it doesn't feel like anything as it sizzles against the wad of spit on your tongue.

"Good?" John asks as he tosses the used match to the side. It's perhaps a bit late, but appreciated all the same. You nod, emphatic, and John smiles down at you, perhaps a touch regretfully. Still, he's calm and confident when he pries your mouth open again, dangling another thick line of spit into your mouth. Honestly, it tastes worse than the match did, tar-soaked and heavy with nicotine.

That doesn't stop you from vibrating in excitement when he holds his cigar over your mouth carefully. There's a moment of intense eye contact, John trying to ascertain for certain that you can handle this. You don't dare move your mouth, but you pour every ounce of acceptance and eagerness into your gaze. John accepts with a soft huff through his nose. "Your reward," he informs you, tapping the shaft of his cigar heavily.

The shower of ash is minimal, but enough to make you flinch when one tiny fleck lands on your sensitive lips. John notices, holds his cigar off to the side in favor of leaning close and licking across your mouth. You meet him for as long as he allows, reveling in the oaky taste that coats his tongue. 

When he sits back, he's donned that serious expression he adopts whenever he's indulging you. You want to ask if he's sure he's good, but the words stick in your throat - congealed. John rolls up his left sleeve, displaying a series of four pink, inflamed marks on the inside of his forearm for your inspection. Ranging from the size of a pencil eraser up to half dollar, the smallest of the marks look the angriest: red and nobby in some places, they look like they will heel badly; whereas the largest of the lot looks hardly noticeable, a flat dark spot at worst. 

John takes another deep drag from his cigar, lets the rich smoke fall across your face as he talks through his exhale. "Are there any of these you don't think you can handle?"

You shake your head excitedly and John brushes his free hand over your throat, calming. Grounding. "'Course you can handle them, eh? Always so good for me." He squeezes your throat once, just because he knows you'll follow as he pulls away. You do, and he spreads his knees wider to accommodate you. 

"It's important you remember this is a reward, yeah? So you don't need to push yourself, or anything like that. If at any point you want to stop, you just need to say. Got ice packs in the freezer for you already," John nods at the minifridge in the corner. 

When he asks if you understand, you just nod, correcting yourself when he gives you an expectant look. "Yes, sir."

"Good pet. If you sit well for me - that means no flinching, no crying, and no whining if I take too long, you'll be rewarded after each one," he flicks his cigar illustratively, sending a small storm of ash falling into the tray on the table next to you. "Now, we're going to start with this one," John points at the second largest mark on his arm, a dense patch of three distinct burns no more than a half inch across. "This one shouldn't scar, but it is fairly recognizable if one knew what they were looking for. Where do you want this one?"

He's not wrong about it being recognizable. It takes you a minute but you remember being a pesky teen, pushing the tops of heated bic lighters against the faux leather of school bus seats, the distinctive pattern in which they'd melt. You know what it'll look like, to be spotted sporting something like that. 

"My thigh," you declare without really thinking, but you grow more confident when you think of the tender flesh, the way the relatively minor mark will feel there as compared to the angrier ones.

"Pants off then, pet."

You scramble to obey while John flicks the lighter. He tilts it so the open flame coats the metal, keeping his thumb safe on the butane pedal. He's still heating it when you come to stand between his knees. Distractedly, he asks where you'd like it, and then peers up at you from under dense brows when you point to a spot high on your thigh.

"Alright, sweetheart." John lets the lighter gutter out, then blows on it a moment. He presses it lightly against the pad of his other hand, testing. He doesn't even flinch, and part of you wants to tell him not to take it easy on you. But then he's asking if you're ready, and you're nodding, biting back a squeal as the hot metal is pressed into the meat of your thigh.

You don't flinch, but it's hard fought. It's more shocking than painful, but easy enough to ease into when John's right there, solid and warm. He coos at you, soft words you barely bother to discern. You lean against him because he didn't say you couldn't, and the movement presses the lighter into you more. It's cooling, technically, though it still feels hot as sin against the sensitive flesh.

John waits until your breaths come in huffs to relent, still murmuring sweetly. He tells you how good you are, how pretty you're gonna look covered in his marks. 

"I hope they scare," you admit, stupidly. John doesn't respond, but his eyes are intense when he guides you back down to your knees.

"Get your mouth good and wet, pet. Open when you're ready."

You watch him puff away at his cigar while you work to coat your mouth in saliva. You can tell he knows he looks good by the way he settles into the couch, legs spread like a whore. You want to be in his lap for this, consider asking for it before your next reward. For now, you settle for opening your mouth, preening when he inspects your tongue and finds it properly coated. 

"Ready?" he asks, and you nod, opening wider in excitement just to drink down the burnt taste when he drops it into your mouth, whining at the dissatisfaction of having no real substance to swallow around. 

"Fuck," John groans, "you love this, don't you, pet?"

You nod, hands coming up to his thighs. You walk yourself closer, unsure what you want but knowing you need to be closer. 

He obliges, tucking his cigar between his teeth so he can cup your face with both hands. "So good for me. Knew you'd like it." He grabs one of your wrists, mustache tickling the sensitive skin there as he licks a hot stripe over you. "Ready?" he asks, and you barely have time to register what he means before he's dropping more ash onto you.

There's not enough spit - not enough time has passed for ash to properly build up. You can't help the yelp you emit when a tiny ember smolders against your flesh. John shushes you, the little thing having already burned itself out. "You're okay," he says, and you are - just a pin prick pink mark left. "You need a minute?"

You take a moment to consider, but shake your head. 

"Use your words, pet," he warns.

"I'm ready to continue."

He hums. "Good job." Turning his forearm so you can see the marks there again, John points to the second smallest. Taller than the last, but thinner, the skin here looks blistered and angry, but the shape is indiscernible to you - just a thin, ovular line. 

"This next. Might scar, but pretty unidentifiable. Where we putting this one?"

Holding out the palm of your non-dominant hand, you point at the pad of your palm, wanting something highly visible and fleshy. 

"You sure," he asks, already reaching across you to pick something up off the coffee table. For the first time it occurs to you that you can look, and you go to follow his movements but John stops you with a hand on your jaw. "Eyes on me," he growls. It's the closest thing you've had to a real order all evening.

It's a zippo lighter this time, the click of it low and satisfying as he lights it. You don't have anything to occupy yourself with this time, so you're forced to sit patiently while he heats the lip of the cage around the flame. When he'd said earlier that you wouldn't get your reward if you were too impatient, you hadn't thought much of it. But now, twiddling your thumbs as you watch him concentrate, counting silently to a set number you do not know, the whine you promised not to make builds silently in your throat. 

You can tell by the set of his mouth that he doesn't stop counting, but his eyes find yours, challenging. You settle yourself more firmly on your cushion, determined.

The zippo is less pleasant. You groan when the thin, hot knife of it presses into your skin, but you don't look away from John, and you certainly don't flinch. He doesn't hold it in place as long this time, throwing it back onto the table behind you after only a few seconds as he presses kisses against your palm. 

"Sorry, sweetheart," he says as he eventually pulls away. "We can be done."

"No!" you cry, pain in your palm already forgotten. "No, sir, please, wanna finish."

"Next one's going to hurt worse," he warns, but you shake your head. 

"I don't mind. This one wasn't even that bad, it just -. It was different. Surprised me."

He frowns down at you suspiciously, but you're not lying and you let him look. John nods his acceptance after a moment, perhaps a bit too relieved. "You want your reward still, pet?"

"Yes," you enthuse, "only -." John cocks his head expectantly and you bite your lip. "Can I sit in your lap this time?"

"Oh, sweetheart," he grins, "of course." It takes him a moment to re-settle everything, bringing his supplies up to the side table which he turns you away from. But then you're comfortably tucked against his chest, mouth open expectantly for the reward which shouldn't be a reward, but very much is. Especially when he holds you tight after, licks into your mouth to share the dry remnants. 

"This next one's the worst one. Do you want to skip it? The last one is the easiest."

You hesitate. "Can I ask what it is?"

"You may ask what the next one is, but not the last one."

"What's the next one?"

John reaches behind you, produces a singular match. "This one smarts, I won't lie. And it will definitely scar."

Part of you wants to rise to the challenge - wants to prove to him you can weather anything he can. You're about to accept it when he reminds you, voice low, "This is supposed to be a reward, pet."

You deflate before you even realize you'd gotten all worked up. "Can we skip it?"

"Of course we can, sweetheart. Thank you for asking." He presses whiskery kisses to your temple, keeps his lips pressed there when he asks if you still want to do the last one.

"That's the big, pink mark, eh?" you hold his forearm up for your inspection, studying the only remaining mark it could be.

"Yes," he confirms.

"And you said it didn't hurt?"

"Barely even felt it."

You know you can be done, that John will fuck you just as well tonight as he always does on his first night back after a mission. You can say you've had enough, probably even ask for one last reward because you'd done so well explaining what you wanted.

But it would be a lie, if you did, because you know John's saved the best for last, and you do want it.

When you tell him as much, John grins happily and kisses you deeply. 

"This one won't hurt. Won't scar, either, but it'll be pretty obvious what's done it to the boys around base while it heals."

You know what he means when you hear the jangle of his dog tags behind you. "Here," you breathe, pointing to your chest before he can even ask where you want it.

"You sure, pet? The boys'll know what it was if -."

"Don't care," you insist, already taking your top off. You point to the flat of your sternum, drum your fingers there excitedly. "Here, please, sir."

"Alright," he chuckles, placing his cigar back in the ashtray. "Give me a minute."

As it turns out, you do have to give him a full minute while he heats the metal over the open flame of the zippo. You nearly break your promise to yourself not to whine, especially when your eager rocking has you pressing up against his hard cock. John only spares you a dark look when you discover his state, rocking his hips up only once - and there more as a threat to dislodge you than to actually provide either of you friction. 

But then he's deemed the tag hot enough, and he's urging you to lay back over the arm of the sofa. He doesn't ask if you're ready this time, simply presses the metal against you with his own bare palm. You writhe under him, jittery and unmoored. He doesn't help when he takes a nipple into his mouth, breaths heavy and hot against your skin.

John doesn't pull the tag away until it's gone skin-warm, heat transferred to both of you fairly quickly. He brushes his whiskers over the inflamed skin after, just to watch you twitch and hiss, and then presses one last kiss there before sitting up. 

"One last reward, pet?" 

You nod, sliding to your knees between his unthinkingly. He doesn't ask why, just guides your head back by the grip he gets on the cradle of your skull. You know the drill by now, but you open your mouth far too soon, groan happily when he tuts and coats your mouth with his own spit. 

"Should withhold this just for that," he growls, but he's far too eager when he pulls deeply from his cigar, inspects the end to be sure there's adequate ash. "Ready?" he asks, and you simply stick your tongue out further in answer.

Sequel >>