#imagine going to hell and this is what you see

[nortsauce]

no-dl6 au where miles and phoenix are engaged would be the most annoying thing ever can you even imagine

Phoenix constantly going “You think you can get away with that??? My fiance is a lawyer!!!” “Uhm actually my fiance, who’s a lawyer, says thats unlawful and a punishable offense 🙄” “my lawyer genius fiance will have something to say about this”

meanwhile on the other side miles is all like “Oh haven’t you heard? my fiance is an ✨artist✨” all pompous and bragging “My fiance has such an eye for ✨artistry✨” “do you have a fiance who can capture the dawn like a piece of themself? No? didn’t think so” phoenix is drawing him personal steel samurai doujins.

Or, depending on your au

Miles: “My fiance was in this movie, he’s an ✨actor✨” “oh, this play? oh it’s just starring my fiance.”

or hell even

Phoenix: “Me and my fiance will see your ass in court. You’re lucky my fiance’s father isn’t on this case or you’d be TOAST.”

idk i just get teary eyed when i see that old trend where someone brags about their s/o’s profession no matter what it is. Especially professions that don’t get a lot of love ok i’m done being sappy

[madamechrissy]

✞ Forgive me For I have Sinned ✞

✞ Pairings: Priest Gojo x Fem Reader

✞ Word count - 5.7k

✞ Content/Warnings- You keep having dreams about Father Gojo, and he decides to try to save your slutty soul <3 NSFW, sacrilegious, confessional fucking, rosaries as bondage, lots of filling you w/love and light, oral (both receiving) fingering, explicit church sex, reader is a lil bimbo and innocent fr, Gojo has a HELL of a God complex (canon tbh) overall kinky asf

A/N- Booking the tix to hell-who's coming with!? I based off this drabble of mine: Priest! Gojo (you can read it first if you want!) Reader and Gojo are in their mid 20s. Enjoy!

It was hot outside, a scorching summer day, the type that made you want to jump in an icy cool lake naked, but in the sanctuary of this pristine church which is kept rather cool, you still have a drip of sweat beading down your collarbone. You’re wearing a pretty red summer dress, your little hat right next to you in the pew, as you watch him with avid attention.

Father Satoru Gojo.

The entire church is in love with him, enamored by him, there are admiring whispers even amongst the most vigilant catholics, the ones who would judge you for coming not in your Sunday best. They hid it well enough, acting as if they only cared so much because his sermons were so powerful, because he was so young and profound already.

But you know better, and they know better deep down, that Father Gojo was just gorgeous, a face chiseled to perfection, tall and broad shouldered, swoon worthy by all accounts. His husky voice and insane presence that shines brilliantly like a million diamonds certainly helps, but his face itself is so pretty it’s angelic.

When he looks at you with those brilliant blue eyes, swirling like a moody storm, all glittery behind those snowy white lashes? Well you feel…

You’re going to hell.

Last night you’d had this insane dream of him, where he has asked you to serve him on your knees, just as he would offer that eucharist and wine to you, but instead it’s his cum you’re swallowing. And you’re a good, God fearing girl, so, you certainly should not do or think of such things! And worst of all, with your priest, Father Gojo. He has vows too, yet you’d committed much sin already.

Just last night you’d awakened throbbing, having dreamt of pleasuring him, on your knees before him, and you’d been soaking wet and dripping down your shorts, even the sheet had a wet spot. You’d rubbed your swollen little clit in circles, gasping and arching your back, feeling fevered as you committed such sins, as picturing Father Gojo had you climaxing all over your own fingers.

You’d been so ashamed this morning! You’d splashed cold water on your face, staring at yourself in your mirror, shivering as the cool water dripped down your skin, knowing you should stay home, find some new church. You are full of impure thoughts and sin, and it’s all because of him, how could you confide in him that you feel this way, think this way?

What would he do if he knew? Cast you out or…

Stop it.

But as you’re crossing your legs, shifting your hips, you see Satoru Gojo’s full, pouty lips part, his eyes directly on you. You pause then, eyes wide, you must be imagining it, your sin surely is carrying over too far… but you test it, crossing your legs once more, and sure enough, his eyes follow your legs up, between your thighs, surely seeing your panties.

That gives you a fucking thrill you can’t describe, as does him licking his thumb, going to another page as he continues his sermon, women all over are fanning themselves, enamored by him. But perhaps none so much as you, picturing what’s under that cassock, under those white robes he wears, what that long, lithe body would feel like against yours.

You imagine your dream vividly later when he’s giving you the eucharist, placing the biscuit on your tongue as you hold your mouth open on your knees, then you see it, the hunger mirrored in his eyes. You tremble when he brushes a thumb over your lower lip, and your eyes drift to his lap, where you clearly see he’s hard. You gulp it down, looking up at him and taking the wine now.

Father Gojo looks down at you, white hair falling over a brow, finding your beautiful eyes are affecting him as much as your stance on your knees, his thumb finds your chin now, imagining shoving his cock between perfect lips. Surely, you are here to tempt him, to ruin him, you are sin itself, haunting his dreams, making him hard in the middle of church, right in his own service.

You look at it then, his cock under the cassock that’s becoming too tight, before licking your lip, eyes back up to his hungrily. You look like such a good girl, but your eyes tell another story, a story of wanting to get fucked hard, to be filled by him, wanting to have his cum all over your pretty face. He imagines that as the wine drips down your lips now.

Fuck he’s going to hell if he stays around you, surely even he has rules to uphold even if he certainly is God’s chosen. But… perhaps since he is God's chosen, it’s his duty to help a little sinful girl like you. And as you rise, holding his hand, and your breasts brush against his chest, you’re far too close, he vividly pictures yanking them out of that dress, tempting him to no end.

Of course you ask for confessional, and he’s dying at the thought of being so close to you, when all he thinks of is how good you look, how good you smell, and he is left to wonder, do you taste that good? Your pretty neck, your delicate collarbone, your pussy? Surely he should not think such things, but as he looks at you through the lattice of the confessional separating you both, he cannot stop his mind.

“Father Gojo… I fear my confession is most wicked.” Comes your breathy little voice, only serving to make Father Gojo’s thick length harden, picturing what your little moans must sound like when properly fucked.

“Go on, my pr- my child, you may tell me anything.” He says, coughing a bit, because he’d rather call you a pretty little slut, and he has no clue why the devil likes to try him so hard. It’s all your fault, truly. Pretty little thing.

“Okay… but…” You take a breath. “I have dreams of someone fucking me, someone I should not.” You say nervously, and watch him shift in his seat, you can smell his cologne so much in here, making you thirst more for him.

“It’s natural to have thoughts, my child.”

“No, Father Gojo… I’m playing with myself, thinking of him. Of… sucking him, or of him laying on top of me.” You hear Father Gojo making a choking sound, and you panic. “I’m so sorry! I…”

“Ahem, no, no… continue.” Father Gojo’s cock is straining, he can already feel precum sticking to his tip, picuring you touching your pussy, he bets it’s so pretty, bet it tastes so-

Sinful girl, aren’t you?

Surely that’s all this is, not… him wanting to sin! Father Satoru Gojo certainly is perfect, he’s God’s perfect creature, so if he wants this, it must be on you. Sin in a perfect little body with a perfect little face, and a voice that drives him to utter distraction. Surely, Father Gojo must try to save you.

“Father, I cannot stop thinking of him, he’s in all my dreams. What should my penance be, how many hail marys?”

Father Gojo has to stroke himself to adjust his huge, throbbing cock now, as he watches you through the lattice, biting your full lower lip, your head falling back, hair cascading. Hair he wants to pull as he fucks you from behind, making you arch your back to take more of his cock.

“I have to ask how you’re doing it… so that I can tell you your penance, so that I may try to save you.” He says, husky now, and you whimper softly, shifting on the bench, your pussy throbbing around nothing, picturing his cock filling you.

“How I do it, Father Gojo?”

“Yes, it’s… important to confess.”

“Well, I take my fingers, and I find my pussy with them, I roll them around my clit over and over, I get so wet that they slip- Father are you okay?” Satoru can’t stand it, he’s stroking his bare cock under his robes, resting his head against the wall, struggling not to cry out as he’s pumping.

“Ahem… indeed I am. So you finger your little pussy then?” At his words you’re a blushing mess, breaths coming more rapidly, your hands gripping the bench, dying for friction as you’re soaking your panties.

“Y-yes.”

“Do you slip your fingers in?”

“I… no! Um… no.”

“And you cum?”

“I… yes. I do cum. Imagining him.” You’re watching those robes rise and fall, then you know it, Father Gojo is stroking his cock right next to you.

“I see… I think I can help alleviate some of this, perhaps give you some guidance so that you do not afflict yourself so.” You want to touch yourself now, when you hear those breathy pants, your fingers clinging to the lattice.

“Yes, father, I need your guidance.” Cock, fingers, mouth… fuck you’re a full sinner, aren’t you!?

“Then come here, let us have our first attempt at saving you.”

Now you’re standing in front of him in the itty bitty room, face to face with Satoru Gojo, your Priest, and fuck if your nipples don’t tighten up, if your tummy isn’t clenching with desire. You’re nervously fiddling with your hands as he leans back, spreading his long legs as wide as they can in the tight quarters, his glittering blue eyes dilated as he licks his lips, making them glossy.

“You must show me how, and do not fret, sweet girl, it’s through god’s will of course, through me.” Father Gojo says, your breaths come faster as you slip up your sundress, and his eyes hungrily drink the sight of your bare thighs in. He leans forward, sliding those panties down, eyeing your glistening cunt now, his breath almost hitting it, making you jerk.

“Father��� I cannot show you…”

“You can, I am here to help, have no fear.” He notices you’ve drenched your panties, a wet spot formed, sticky little strands of your arousal apparent as he pulls them down, hands touching the smooth skin of your thighs.

You put your hand on your pussy now, the other nervously holding up your dress, and you run your fingers in circles on your clit, crying out softly, as he lets out a low, guttural moan. You’re getting wetter as you play, as his large, sexy hands clench, the veins popping up out of the thin skin, and you’re trembling, imagining his long fingers working you instead.

Satoru is close to cumming as he watches your pretty face, your brows drawing together, your lips parted, eyes so dilated your pupils are taking over, just a thin ring of your iris left. Your lashes are lowered, and his hand stops yours now, as it’s playing with your soppy little cunt, you tremble before him.

“I see, I must help you, guide you. To get this… affliction taken care of. Yes?” You nod eagerly, then Father Gojo pulls you to his lap, and you’re straddling him, your hands sliding up to feel his strong shoulders under his robe, and he is touching your pussy instead, making you whimper. “Need me to save you, pretty little sinner?”

“Please save me. Please. Ah!” Satoru sinks two long fingers deep inside your eager little entrance, you gasp at it as he slips into your gummy walls, drippy and so tight. He’s paused, moaning and looking right into your eyes, you drown in his blue gaze, as your cunt drools down his hand. “Father Gojo… please…”

“Begging for it, are you? So tight, it’s so… have you had anything inside this perfect little pussy?” He huffs, feeling how you’re squeezing his fingers, then he hits some spot that makes you see stars, pumping up and down over and over. You cling to him, eyes fluttering shut. “Answer me, be a good girl for once, would you?”

Good girl for once.

There’s no hope for you.

“Nothing… no one… just you, Father Gojo. Mmm!” You’re covering your mouth as he keeps pumping, and he moans, dreaming of breaking you in all the ways he could, taking your innocence for himself. It’s surely what god is wanting, and who is he but god’s disciple himself? He thrusts those fingers knuckles deep, watching you fall apart over him.

“There, you’re loving this, fingers stretching your pussy, don’t you?” You nod weakly, gushing down his hand, you can hear the squishing wetness of your pussy as he now slides a thumb, rolling it over your clit.

“F-father Gojo!”

“Sinful girl.” He huffs, as you’ve buried your face against his neck, rocking against his hand, those long fingers fucking you so good it’s painful, moaning.

“Mmm! Father Gojo, I will… be good… for you…”

“Will you?” You nod weakly, as Satoru rolls your clit expertly, and you feel the pressure building, you’re panting, ready to combust. “I feel it, you’re so close, aren’t you?”

You’re nodding, hips grinding, now you’re soaking his robes, he’s picturing sliding his cock inside you, breaking you, until your sins are cleansed, and you’re picturing him taking you, defiling you in every way your hectic mind can picture. Both of you are about to cum, you’re not even touching Satoru though, you want to, fuck you want to.

“Close, m’close… p-please…” You’re begging for release, seeing stars as he works your now sloppy cunt.

“I've got you, you can let go, you're safe with me, let me see your sins so I can cleanse them.” He urges you on, bringing you higher and higher with those long, slick fingers.

“Father, it's... I'm gonna... mmm!” You're so close, soaking the sleeve of his robe now. And he's so ready to slide into your eager cunt, looking up at you behind snowy lashes.

“Show me how you sin, let me watch you cum, so I can... help you.” He whispers, and you fall apart then, pulsing around his fingers, and he groans as he watches you, pressing up so deep. You’re gushing so much arousal, he can smell your sweet scent, as you scream out into your little hand, shaking.

Satoru is now sliding his fingers out, you whine, wanting more, especially when he is sucking your juices off his fingers, making you gasp. His cheeks hollow, his eyes fluttering shut as he tastes you, your mouth drops open, breaths making you quicken, your heart pounding in your ears as you try to come down.

Your thighs are trembling over him, entire body lit up from cumming so hard, his snowy lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, before fluttering up, looking at you, your arousal coating his lips. “Oh my God.”

More sinning.

“You’re not being a very good girl.” He admonishes, but then his lips quirk up. “But, you taste too sweet to be bad. Or perhaps you yourself are sin.” Father Gojo whispers to you now, and you’re leaning closer, rolling your hips, making him groan, his hands gripping your little waist as your heat brushes against his cock. “Has it alleviated some of your… need, my child?”

He’s smirking at you, in a way no priest should! You sigh then, shaking your head. “No, Father, it’s only made it worse! You must help me more, I’m afraid now I’m thinking of sinning even more, and who I’ve been dreaming of.” You say then, it’s a whisper, as the room is hot from your breaths, smelling like sweet arousal.

Satoru blinks then, thin white brows going together, jaw clenching. “You’re thinking of fucking your own priest? That is a sin.”

“I know! It’s a terrible affliction. Oh Father, I’m going to hell.” You whisper, blinking back tears, still reeling from the aftershocks of cumming. Satoru arches his hips now, brushing his cock against your pussy, and you nearly scream out, head falling back, exposing your throat to him, and he pictures his hand wrapping a rosary around your neck, pulling tight.

You’ve dreamt of him too!? Surely this must be a sign.

A temptation.

But does he want to fight it? Your taste is all over his mouth now, as he feels your sexy little body against him, his hands brushing against your breasts, watching your nipples perk up. You look at him with intoxicated eyes, lips parted, your tiny hands clinging to his robes as you grind again, and he shudders at how fucking good it feels, your heat on him.

“I see… Well you must come to me tomorrow, and we will have to try harder, to save your soul.” He says huskily, you nod eagerly, as he helps you off him, his cock close to cumming, already twitching, he slides your soaked, ruined panties into his robes, you surely do not need them anymore.

“What if I have another dream father!”

“Do not touch yourself, I will help you when you come in, that’s so we can try to save you, yes?” You nod then, leaning close to his lips.

“Father, is it a sin to kiss your lips?”

“Not if you feel a calling, surely God wishes you to.” He murmurs, and you peck a sweet kiss on his lips, tasting yourself on him, before forcing yourself out of the cramped quarters, body on fire, leaving Satoru to finish stroking his cock, cumming as he shoves your panties against his face.

******

You’re dreaming of him again, of Father Gojo, this time his snowy white hair is brushing against your thighs, his tongue is lapping up all the dripping wetness, his big hands pressing into the plush of your thighs. You wake up throbbing, crying out, seeing how wet you are, as the ceiling fan whirls, failing to cool your overheated flesh. Father Gojo’s fingers made it worse, your affliction!

The next day you’re painfully turned on, pussy aching for more, you followed his instructions and did not touch yourself, instead you forced yourself to go back to sleep, now you’re in the nearly empty church, knocking at the door of Father Gojo’s office. You hear his deep voice speak.

“Come in.” You nervously walk in, you are wearing a shorter blue sundress today, and no panties. You know Father Gojo will see how sinful you are, but when you see his perfect face, and him wearing a thinner, lighter white robe, your pussy is already making your thighs sticky. “My child, lock that door, so we can have privacy… we would not want your confessions judged.”

“Yes, thank you Father.” You lock the door with a click, stepping to him, your heels clicking on the wooden floor of his room. He’s sitting in his chair, fingers steepled, studying your body carefully.

“Do you have any updates on your affliction, pretty girl?”

“Pretty girl…” You’re blushing worse now.

“I feel I must call you what the lord is telling me. Is that alright with you?” You nod nervously, standing before him, the desk separating you. “So how were your dreams last night?”

“They were of you again, Father Gojo. I’m so sorry!”

You cover your face in embarrassment, hearing the soft thumps of his shoes as he comes to you, taking you by your wrists, big hands enveloping the delicate wrists entirely. Your head tilts back to look at him, he’s so tall and big… you’re drinking in the sight of him, his black rosaries hanging across his broad chest.

“You must tell me these dreams, so I may help you. Perhaps they’re some sign that we must see.”

“You… you were licking me, between my thighs.” His nostrils flare slightly, those swirling blue eyes thirsty as he studies you, your thighs shift, his hands still tight on your wrists.

“Your slutty little pussy, I was licking it?” Your pussy is clenching, tummy coiling, at his nasty, sinful words, from such a pure man. You nod then. “I see, there’s no choice, we must see what enacting your dreams does. To try to save you.”

“Y-yes, father, I think so too.” You whisper, hands sliding up and down his chest, watching his Adam's apple bob under that white collar. “Does it ever get uncomfortable, Father Gojo?”

“At times. Take it off for me.” He turns and you undo the collar, when he turns back you see it, his strong neck, the muscles corded, you bite your lower lip, earning him pulling it from your teeth. “This dream, describe it, so I can help you.”

You’re a flustered mess, especially after his fingers yesterday, and all the dreams you’ve been having. You take several breaths now. “You were licking me.”

“More descriptive.” He murmurs now, sitting you up on his desk, shocking you, then he slides up your skirt and smirks, wicked priest that he is, blue eyes darting back up to yours. “No panties, your soul is so slutty.”

“I… well… Father Gojo!” Satoru’s rubbing your clit with his thumb, watching you writhe on his desk now, as he sits back in his black chair, scooting up, his breath right against you.

“You wanted this, to be bare in front of me, didn’t you pretty little sinner?”

“Y-yes, I told you, I’m going to hell, mmm!”

He’s kissing your thighs, your hands enwrap in his silky white hair now, his breaths higher and higher, eying your perfect, glistening pussy. He’s dying to feel you dripping down his tongue, dying to drink your sweet nectar flowing when he’s opening up the lips of your pussy, and you’re making those pretty sounds, you’re so pathetic already, he thinks.

“No, I will save you, don’t you believe in me, pretty? I alone speak for God, I’m the honored one.” His words along with his eyes, those glittery blue storms that see right through you, as if they know your every sin, wreck you now. He surely must be the honored one.

“You’ll save me, I know you will.” You whisper, caressing his cheek now, and he moans softly, just urging you on more.

“That’s a good girl. Now tell me, what did I do in this dream?”

“You licked me, here.” You touch your slit, and he slides his tongue up it now, making you gasp, his tongue is so hot and wet, you’re gushing just from that. Satoru moans, kissing right over your clit before swiping his tongue again. “Father!”

“Shh, lest they hear your sinful mouth.” He whispers, and you clench your teeth, nodding as you watch him, he is placing your feet on either arm of his chair. “And you did not play with yourself?”

“I swear I did not, Father Gojo! I listened. Please…” You arch your hips up, full pussy in his face, and Satoru begins to devour you now, spreading your lips and flicking his tongue on your little swollen clit over and over. You have to slap a hand over your mouth, his rosary is cool against your inner thigh as he works your pussy, just like your dream.

Satoru’s tongue is wicked, for such a holy man you think, and it does the most wicked things to you, no dream could prepare you, even his fingers had not. He sucks your clit into his hot open mouth, moaning as your juices coat his tongue, looking up at you as you cling to his hair with one hand, the other muffling your cry as you feel yourself begin to cum.

Soon you are cumming right on Father Gojo’s face, your thighs shaking on either side of his head, pussy pulsing around nothing, and he’s drinking you up, so lewd in the quiet church office. You’re jerking now, as he leans up, half his pretty face shining with your slick, making you flush at how much there was. Your hand eases down, now just gasping for breath as you look at him.

“And now, my child, how is this affliction?” He whispers, leaning up and laying atop you, pressing you into the wooden desk. You lean up, kissing him once more, earning his moan, tasting yourself all over him, he grabs you by the throat then, long fingers wrapping as he pulls back. “How hard do I have to work to save your slutty little soul, hmm?”

“I’m sorry, Father Gojo. It was so amazing… but I just want more, I fear I’m having more lustful thoughts of you now.” Your hand slides down now, cupping him where he’s thick and hard, and he squeezes your throat harder now, his thumb on your racing pulse.

“And what else is in that little brain of yours? What lewd fantasies of your priest, hmm?”

“Sucking your cock, that’s what.” He groans now, pulling you down and putting you to your knees. You look up eagerly, now Satoru is undressing, and you finally get glimpses of his body, of hard muscles and planes as he’s taking off his robes, now opening his pants for you, revealing a huge, thick cock. You gulp as you drink in the sight of it.

“And do you know what to do, how to serve me, my child?” He asks, you shake your head. “Yet you’ve dreamt it?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Then it’s surely meant to be, hmm? First, slide down your top.” You do as he says, and he moans as he sits back in his chair, gripping your bare breasts. “My God,  you’re made to ruin me. Come here, open your mouth.”

You do as he says, and Father Gojo now guides you by your hair, hair he wraps around his fist, guiding you down on his cock. His curved pink tip is leaking white pearly substance, which you tongue out, earning his grown, his head falling back. You suck him eagerly, swirling your tongue, as his eyes watch you, lidded and dazed, tasting his saltiness and sweetness eagerly.

“You’re far too good at this, are you sure you haven’t been sucking cock, like a sinful brat?” You pull back with a pop, saliva dripping down your lips.

“No, I only want to serve you, Father.”

“Mmm, you’re so precious.” He whispers, before shoving your mouth back on him, and you’re bobbing up and down as he pulls your hair, using it to glide you up and down his length. Your eyes water, your nose starts running as his cock is choking you, your pussy throbbing even more. “Fuck…”

“Father, did you cuss?” You ask, pulling back, with a shy little grin, earning Father Gojo’s smirk.

“I’m allowed to, it’s all God’s words. Now are you finally satisfied, or do we need to go further? Do I need to break your pretty little pussy?” He murmurs, his words like a drug, running his thumb across your lower lip. You nod then, weakly, and his lips part, eyes studying you. “Then ask me, on your knees so pretty, like you’re praying.” He puts your hands in prayer position, blue eyes lighting up.

“Please, break me, Father Gojo.” He pulls you up now, kissing you deeply, tongues so unpracticed and messy, you’ve never really even kissed, but now you feel him, filling you once more with those two fingers as he bends low.

“Turn around and bend over, sweet sinner.” You turn, and now Father Gojo has slid your dress down, leaving you in just your heels, his big hands gliding down every line and curve of your bare body. “I said bend over.”

He smacks you sharply on your backside, making you gasp then whine out, as he presses your upper back between your shoulder blades, your face against his desk. He then takes your hands, putting them behind your back and wrapping them with his black beaded rosary. You whine out at the sensation, he pulls it so tightly it’s digging in, shoving the cross in your palms.

“Hold on to that cross while I fuck your innocent little pussy. Feel it against your skin as I do.” He says, whispering in your ear. You nod, feeling the sharp cool silver digging in, as the beads dig into your bound wrists. “Good girl, spread those thighs.”

You do as he says, and then his tip is in, stretching you, and you’re shivering, breaths coming faster and faster. Satoru shoves his cock inside you, tearing at your little barrier. You cry out at the pain, and he pauses for a moment, moaning, letting you adjust. “H-hurts…”

“Just a moment of pain to fill you with my light.” He murmurs, sinking deeper, and your walls are fluttering around his cock, earning his groan. “You’re so wet for me, aren’t you? Did you want me to take it, your innocence?”

“I’ve w-wanted you, so long… played with… a long ah- time.” He moans now, sliding back out and in, you’re so wet and ready the pain eases quickly, as he takes you from behind now, pulling on your neck, pressing your bound hands firmer against your back, whispering in your ear.

“You sinned so long, playing with this pussy thinking of me?” You nod weakly, hiccuping on a cry as he’s pumping now, taking you over, stretching your tight cunt out so much, your skin burns, but you crave it.

You’re going to hell, surely.

But it seems worth it to be stretched by his cock so well.

“Y-yes… a long time. S-sorry Father…”

“Just Satoru when you cum all over my cock, hmm?” You nod weakly, then he fucks you harder now, thighs smacking your skin, his pelvis smacking your now sore ass cheeks, balls smacking your clit. “Ah, and you’re close already and your first time? You were made for this, weren’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes, Satoru!” You scream out so loud he’s palming your mouth with his huge hand, taking over your face, shoving his cock in and rolling his hips, making you climax so hard you cannot see. You weakly drool out of your lips onto his hand, as he feels your velvety walls fluttering around him.

You are made for this, for his cock, to take him. Your sweet virgin pussy is getting so filled by Father Gojo’s huge cock, but you’re already taking him so well. Father Gojo knows then that your dreams and his must be for a better purpose, to fuck you and fill you with all of his light, surely. You’re taking him more and more, cumming so hard your cunt is drooling everywhere.

He lets your face go, looking at your fucked out expression, your mouth is wide open, that drool dangling out the corner, your eyes are rolled back, lashes fluttering, your ass arching up for more. You’re such a sinful creature, but he knows your innocence was made for just him, clearly. You would not have anyone else, he would surely see to it.

It’s God's calling.

You’re pounded and stuffed by his huge cock, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, ass jiggling with the force, then Satoru pulls your chin to face him, he’s so fuzzy, you keep shutting your eyes.

“Look at me, my child, now.” He whispers, and you open your eyes, staring into his weakly as his thrusts slow.

“Y-yes, Satoru…” He moans at the use of his name from your pretty lips.

“I’m saving you, through… mmm… God’s wisdom.”

“Thank you, thank you!” You’re trembling, he’s rolling his hips and that tip is dragging on your spot, you struggle to focus on his pretty face, the sun from the blinds filtering in behind his head, and then he looks like an angel. The cross is digging in so much your hand is bleeding just a bit, but you truly couldn’t care, his cock feels too good inside you.

“Do you want me to… fill you…” He’s crying out then, grabbing you so tightly you can’t breathe. “With God’s love… and light?”

“Please, fill me Father- ah!” Satoru starts pumping faster and faster, yanking on your rosary so hard it breaks as he begins to cum, the beads flinging and clattering all over the wooden floor, the cross still digging into your broken palm.

“Going to put… so much… light in you… fill you-” He moans loudly then, and you feel hot liquid pumping inside, bringing you to cum with him, as it coats your walls, hot and sticky. “Feel it? Feel me filling you with it?”

“I do! I do… Father Gojo… feel it.” You whine out, rolling your hips to milk him for every bit of his hot white ropes.

“Oh… Mmm…” He’s pumping more cum inside you now, but you’re so wet and still convulsing, so it’s dripping down his cock with your arousal. Satoru exhales, pulling out and then wiping you up, turning you gently, gulping as he kisses you once more. “You were sent here to destroy me.”

“Father, I’m afraid… I only want to do it more.” You whisper, he groans, cupping your face, as you bring up your hand to him, where the cross has left red marks on your palm, he traces it, the perfect symbol of the cross, with little blood drops streaking. You wince in pain.

“I see, it’s a sign we must continue.” He says, and you nod eagerly, as he holds your hand in his.

“We must, Father Gojo.”

*****

The next Sunday, you’re sitting in the very front for the sermon, watching as Father Gojo is licking a thumb and turning a page, his blue eyes darting to your thighs, today you’re wearing a pink summer dress. Father Gojo has stolen a pair of your panties, he thinks you don’t notice, but you do, so you decide not to wear any again, opening your legs for a moment.

Father Gojo gets a glimpse of your bare, glistening pussy right in that church, making his cock hard in front of a room full of hundreds of his followers. Luckily the brown stand in front of him covers up such evidence, as he looks over at your face when you cross your sexy legs, you smile up at him, blinking innocently.

But you’re not innocent, not anymore, are you? No, you’re the worst sinner he’s tried to save, and he thinks he’ll have to work harder to save you. And when you’re riding his cock in the confessional later that evening, and he’s biting on your breasts, you’re riding him so well, moans muffled in the tiny room, he’s not sure he can save you truly, you’re too full of sin.

Father Gojo enjoys your slutty soul and your soaking wet pussy on him far, far too much, especially filling you with his cum light.

Serving Father Gojo is perfectly fine, it's God's will after all 🙏 Nanami and Geto drabbles coming some time too <3 Reblog if you're a sinner <3

[levandright]

𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆

their favorite way to show their love for you is through — giftsꜝꜝ

if you enjoyed reading this consider leaving a like or reblog ᐢ..ᐢ

pairing ⋆ ot7 enhypen x gn! reader ʬʬ content / warning(s) ⋆ extra extra soft fluff, established relationship, non-idol au, just enha spoiling you with gifts <3 ꕀ word count : 1,637 ʬʬ go back to the start? ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : i wrote the whole thing with good thing by nct 127 on repeat and i think it did something to my brain. after making this i now want someone to gift like the boys do- cause the hell man :(( i envy their relationship its so cute T-T (i literally wrote this) thx for proofreading and editing this again twin <3 (gotta make sure twin gets their recognition)

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 - plushies

you come home to find a familiar pink gift bag sitting on your bed, decorated with little hearts and a note in heesung’s handwriting: “a little something for your collection—hope they make you smile! - hee”

excitedly, you peek inside, immediately spotting the cute sanrio tags and soft pastel colors. you pull out not one, but three adorable plushies—my melody, cinnamoroll, and hello kitty, each one perfectly cuddly and looking up at you with their iconic smiles.

just as you’re hugging my melody close, heesung steps into the room, a shy grin on his face as he watches your reaction. “i couldn’t decide on one,” he admits, scratching his head. “so i figured… why not add a few more friends to your display?”

you can’t stop smiling as you place the plushies carefully among the others on your shelf, each one finding its perfect spot. “they’re perfect,” you say, turning to give him a grateful hug. “you know me so well.”

he chuckles, returning the hug. “i love seeing your face light up every time. besides your collection wouldn’t be complete without the whole sanrio squad, right?”

with a laugh, you look back at the shelf, feeling warm inside. thanks to heesung your little plushie family just got a lot bigger.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 - clothes

you’re scrolling through your phone when you get a text from jay: “check your doorstep!”

curious, you open the door to find a large shopping bag sitting outside. you bring it inside, already knowing who it’s from. as you pull out one dress after another—soft fabrics in different colors, some with delicate lace, others with simple elegance—you can’t help but laugh, imagining jay going through the store and picking each one out.

a moment later, he shows up at your door, grinning like he’s just won a prize. “so, what do you think? i couldn’t decide on just one, so i got you…options,” he says with a wink.

“options?” you tease, holding up a deep blue dress. “jay, you bought out the whole store!”

he shrugs, unbothered. “i just wanted you to have the best. besides, i know you have that event coming up, and i wanted you to feel amazing.”

you shake your head, touched. “you’re too much, you know that?”

he grins, gently nudging you toward the mirror. “go try one on, just to see how perfect you look.”

with a smile, you head to change, grateful for his thoughtfulness and the joy he finds in seeing you happy.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 - perfume

you’re sitting on your bed, flipping through a magazine, when you hear a light knock on your door. “hey, can I come in?” jake’s voice calls out from the other side.

“sure!” you reply, setting the magazine aside. as he steps in, you notice he’s holding a beautifully wrapped box, the corners tied with a silky ribbon.

“what’s this?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

jake grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “open it and see!”

you carefully unwrap the box, revealing a stunning bottle of your favorite perfume, the one you always rave about. the familiar shape of the bottle brings an instant smile to your face. “jake! you remembered!”

“of course i did! i always remember,” he says, pride evident in his voice. “i figured it was time to restock your collection. i know how much you love this scent.”

you get up and give him a warm hug, breathing in the comforting mix of his cologne and the fresh scent of the perfume. “you always know how to make me happy. thank you!”

he chuckles, pulling back to look at you. “i just want to make sure you never run out. you wear it so well.”

you shake your head in delight, placing the perfume on your vanity. “i’ll always think of you when I wear it,” you say, feeling grateful for his thoughtful gesture.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 - chocolate

you’re at your desk, sorting through some papers, when you notice a familiar small box tucked beside your things. smiling, you pick it up and read the note stuck on top: “just because. - sunghoon.”

opening it, you’re greeted by the rich aroma of chocolate—a collection of your favorite flavors. dark, milk, hazelnut-filled, and even a few fruit-infused truffles.

it’s the third time this week sunghoon has surprised you with chocolate, each box seemingly chosen with extra care.

later, as you’re enjoying a piece, sunghoon walks in, catching you mid-bite.

“caught you!” he teases, grinning as he leans against the doorframe. “how’s today’s selection?”

you laugh, holding up the chocolate box. “perfect, as always. i still don’t know how you manage to get these here without me noticing.”

he shrugs, looking pleased. “i have my ways,” he says, pretending to be mysterious. then, with a softer smile, he adds, “i just like knowing that you’re never without a little something sweet.”

you smile, feeling warmth spread through you. “well, thanks to you my lovely boyfriend, i’ve never been happier—or more stocked on chocolate.”

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 - jewelry

it’s a quiet afternoon when sunoo shows up at your door with a mysterious grin and a small, velvet box in his hand.

“what’s that?” you ask, your curiosity piqued as he invites himself in and settles onto the couch beside you.

he just smiles, handing you the box without a word. inside, nestled against the satin, is a delicate silver bracelet, adorned with a tiny charm shaped like a star. your eyes widen in surprise as you look up at him. “sunoo, it’s beautiful! you didn’t have to…”

but he’s already lifting his wrist to show you a matching bracelet around his own. “it’s not just for you,” he says, looking at you with a gentle smile. “it’s for us. i found these and thought it would be a nice reminder… something we can both wear.”

a warm blush creeps onto your cheeks as you turn the bracelet over in your hand. “it’s perfect. thank you, sunoo.”

he beams, taking the bracelet from you and gently fastening it around your wrist. “now, every time you see it, you’ll know we’re connected—even if we’re not together.”

you reach out, holding his hand, and squeeze it. “i love it, really. but i love you more.”

he laughs, giving your hand a playful squeeze back. “good, because that’s the part of the gift i’m hoping you’ll keep forever.”

you both sit there, admiring your matching bracelets, feeling closer than ever as the sunlight filters through the room, casting a gentle glow over both of you.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 - flowers

the soft chime of the doorbell echoes through the house, pulling you from your cozy spot on the couch. you rise, curious about who could be at the door. as you open it, a burst of color greets you: jungwon stands there with a bright bouquet of flowers in hand, a broad smile stretching across his face.

“surprise!” he exclaims, presenting the bouquet like a trophy. the flowers are vibrant, a mix of sunflowers, daisies, and wildflowers, their sweet scent filling the air.

your eyes widen, and a smile blooms on your face. “oh, jungwon! they’re beautiful!” you reach out to take them, feeling the warmth of his enthusiasm radiate towards you.

“i thought you could use a little brightness today,” he says, stepping inside. “i know you’ve been busy with work and school, so i wanted to remind you that you’re doing an amazing job.”

you feel a swell of gratitude as you breathe in the flowers’ fresh scent. “you always know how to make my day better,” you reply, feeling the weight of your stress start to lift.

“i just love seeing that smile on your face,” he says, his voice sincere. “you deserve to be reminded how wonderful you are.”

as you arrange the flowers in a vase, jungwon leans against the counter, watching you with a soft smile. “every time you look at them, i want you to remember that you’re loved, no matter how tough things get.”

you glance back at him, your heart warming at his words. “thank you, jungwon . this really means a lot to me.”

he steps closer, wrapping his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “you know i’ll always be here for you, right? just like these flowers, i’ll always try to bring a little color into your life.”

you lean into him, feeling the comfort of his embrace. “i’m so lucky to have you.”

he kisses your temple gently, and you close your eyes, savoring the moment. with jungwon by your side and flowers brightening the room, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you’ll face them with a smile.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 - sunglasses

riki practically skips over to you, a mischievous grin plastered across his face and his hands hidden behind his back. you give him a curious look, and he finally reveals what he’s holding: two pairs of sunglasses, both sleek and stylish with tinted lenses.

“tada~ matching sunglasses,” he announces proudly, handing you one of the pairs. “i figured it was time to make you as cool as me.”

you laugh, slipping them on. “so, does this mean i get honorary 'riki’s fashion sidekick' status now?”

he nods, adjusting his own sunglasses as he strikes a dramatic pose. “absolutely. now we can both look this good,” he teases, winking at you from behind the lenses.

the two of you step out into the sunlight, instantly feeling like the coolest duo around. you both take turns posing, doing mock runway walks and playfully pointing at each other like you’re celebrities. riki laughs every time you strike a ridiculous pose, clutching his sides with giggles.

eventually, you both settle down, leaning against a wall, still wearing the shades and smiling wide. “i think we should make this our thing,” riki says, nudging you. “matching sunglasses, everywhere we go.”

you nod, grinning. “agreed. it’s our official look.”

perm taglist. @honeychocos @kozumesphone @manaah02 (open)

wyll taglist. @lilly-cherry7 (comment or ask to be added)

©levandright

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hello 👋 if requests are open do you think we can get another of The Summoned Demon? I've never seen a take on Danny being misunderstood and speaking a different language after a summoning and I'm really excited to see where you wanna take this. If not don't worry about it I have a vivid imagination hahaha

Take care of yourself man, this is also your mandatory water and food break ❤️

Danny runs for what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, attempting to find the exit of the caves. This would be easier if he could go ghost, but for some reason, his powers were disrupted when he tried to change into Phantom back in the cell.

He didn't know how, but the weird lights had messed with his core. It was almost like an invisible hook had attached itself to his navel. The thing yanked his power into the floor and walls, causing them to explode.

Thankfully, when the strange writing had vanished, a bit of his strength had returned, allowing him to tear through the stone bars. He couldn't go ghost, but at least some of his powers were accessible.

He had super strength, night vision (which would have been really helpful the day he was kidnapped!), and a few energy beams. It could be a better skill set, but if needs must. If only his Phantom stamina could transfer over.

Right now, he was using Fenton Stamina. There was a reason he was failing P.E. It showed how he was gasping for air, kneeling by one of the stone walls.

"Must...huff...find...exit....huff huff....escape!" Danny pants, attempting to crawl forward. "Must....check with a doctor about possible asthma...leg cramp! leg cramp!"

It wasn't going well.

Danny grips the meat of his calf, curling into a tight ball and silently screaming at it. The pain is annoyingly rippling across his whole body, causing his muscles to tense to the point he can only sit there and wait for it to go away.

All the while, he was mentally swearing up a storm.

After a few minutes, the muscles relax enough for him to feel some relief. Slowly unclenching his hands- afraid that if he got too quickly, the pain would return- Danny stretches out his leg. The ache is a distant echo as he slumps against the stone.

"I'm going to die in here," He whimpers. "I'm going to die from a kidnapping cult that thought it was a great idea to wait after my math test to take me."

While Danny wallows in misery, two glowing figures flout out of a nearby wall. A woman who looks to be wearing an outfit straight from the pilgrim's age and a man who may have once been a gentleman in the early ninety-thousands.

Danny's eyes widen at the blood staining the woman's head and dress. It's evident from the crack that runs along the right side of her skull. The man, meanwhile, looks more normal if it is not for the way one of his legs is twisted sickeningly.

"This one is young, " says the woman, shaking her head in pity. "It looks like he hurt his leg."

"I know how that feels," the man sighs, flouting until he is mere inches from Danny's face. "It doesn't seem he's been down here for long. Maybe there is hope someone will find him before the starvation hits."

"What do you mean starvation!?" Danny yelps. The two glowing people flinch.

The man gapes at Danny. "You can see us!?"

"Yeah? You're ghosts, right? I'm part ghost on my mother's side." Danny jokes, only seeing the woman cross herself before doing a slight hop and pointing at him with clear disgust.

"Witch!" She stretches, dragging out the syllables. He a bit impressed by how she puts her whole chest into that yell. Hell, he's even a little envious with how low she got her voice too.

"Not now, Mary," The man hisses at her. He reaches to touch Danny, but the boy avoids the contact, afraid of being overshadowed. That earns him a smile that seems oddly approving. "It's nice to meet you, lad. My name is Harold McConnell; I was an explorer attempting to map out Gotham's caves when I was separated from my crew. I broke my leg in the dark and starved to death. This is Mary, no last name. She and her family were moving from different American colonies when they passed over Gotham, and their carriage fell when the ground gave way. She died upon impact."

Dang, okay. Harold is oddly forward. Danny knows most ghosts are well aware of the specter's unwritten rules: Never bring up another death or share yours until a deep bond has been made.

A bit flustered Danny placed a hand on his chest, ensuring his fingers were spread so that they know he was a friendly ghost. He was not after their haunt or territory. "I'm Danny Fenton. Yesterday I was kidnapped by a cult from my classroom. They had me in warehouse then in a stone cell in a near by cave I escaped them but ended up gettng lost."

Marry lowered her hand, eyes wide. "A cult brought you down here?"

"Yeah, and I'm afraid they will find me," Danny mutters, looking over his shoulder. He can't see or hear anyone, but that does little to reassure him.

Harold's face tightens. "There are many monsters in this city."

"We can show you the way out," Mary offers, flying closer. Danny does his best not to stare at her gruesome features. It would be vulgar. "Does being half ghost- or a witch- make it possible for us to carry you?"

Danny blinks. "I think so, but I can walk-"

"Nonsense," Harold grunts, reaching out and lifting Danny from the floor. He throws him over his shoulder like he was picking up a flour sack. Danny squeaks. "Goodness, I forgot how it felt to hold something. I miss this."

Danny starts to protest, but Harold merely bounces him with a laugh, twisting around where Mary is flouting. "Onward!"

Mary smiles, floating alongside them. "We can go through the west caves to where my skeleton is. There is an opening that should lead to the center of Gotham's suburbs."

"Good idea, Mary," Harold compliments, flying right behind her at a much faster speed than Danny's running. "Listen, lad, we can't leave the blasted caves, but we can stare through openings. The suburbs are the safest place for you to pop out of."

Considering that his only other option is a mad group of cultists, a kiddy pool of blood, or a full ghost status from being lost in the caves, Danny doesn't mind.

He is saddened that they are anchor ghosts, though he suspected as much from the way neither had noticed his Infinite Realms mannerism. It means they are doomed to only wander the areas of their death, forever trapped in their sudden and abrupt demise.

"Thank you for helping me," He says, staring down at his hands. He can see the ground past him back, aware of the way Harold's muscular arms wrap around him without any warmth but not lacking in kindness. "I wish I could take you with me."

"That's a sweet thought, little one witch, but it's alright." Mary says, "We've come to terms with our fate. We even found love."

Danny peaks at her, noticing how adoring she is regarding the ghost, and she can't help but smile. "You two are together?"

"Aye. Mary comforted me in my final hours." Harold responds in a voice as fond and adoring as Mary's: "She was my reward for how I perished."

How romantic.

"I hope I find love like yours," Danny tells them just as they round a few corners and come to a deep drop. The remains of a carriage and five skeletons rest at the very bottom, making him heartache for the fact she had likely been alone with their bodies for centuries.

Mentally, he makes a pack to come back for the bodies and give them a proper burial—once he has his powers, of course.

"I pray that you do," Mary says, keeping her gaze away from the pit. She points upwards to a whole in the cave's ceiling, a few streaks of light peaking through. "Up there, my love."

Harold obediently flies upwards, twisting Danny so the boy's back is to his chest and his hands are supporting him on his bum. Danny's face turns red. "Sorry, lad, but something is covering the exit. I can not touch it, but you should be able to. Kick it until it breaks. It should only be a few layers of grass."

Danny coughs. "I'll try my best."

He kicks upwards, pressing himself into Harold so he has more leverage for throwing his legs upwards. They make contact with a heavy thump, his super strength giving him an edge.

"Donkey kicks, lad!" Harold shouts, "Both legs, nice and even."

He pulls his legs back again, putting more strength into his second kick. It shakes the ground above him as bits of dirt fall through, and the light streaks grow. Danny's legs go through once, twice, and on the third kick.

Danny cheers as the ground above him collapses, falling into the pit below. It's a reasonable-sized hole, just big enough that he will be able to squeeze through, but thankfully, the rest of the ceiling seems sturdy enough that he won't accidentally cause a sinkhole.

"Good job!" Mary cheers, clapping her hands. Harold lets out a deep and joyish laugh, helping Danny straight up by holding his waist and lifting him up through the hole.

He struggles to keep Danny upright when Mary swoops in, lacing her fingers and supporting Danny's feet. Her added assistance allows the ghosts to push him upwards, away from the darkness and into the light.

Danny rises from the ground with a laugh so cheerful he doesn't think he's ever been this happy to see sunlight, even when it blinds him.

It takes a couple moments to adjust his eyesight, stepping out of the ghosts' hold onto solid ground, but he can smell the sweet grass below his feet. He hears the tender psss of a meat on a girl. The alluring aroma of hotdogs-

Wait a minute.

Danny's eyes finally come into focus, and he stares into the faces of a surprise family just about to sit down for a BBQ. His eyes find the face of a very familiar teenage boy looking increasingly horrified by the second.

"Hey, you're the cult pants guy!" Danny shouts at him, twisting around to look down at Harold and Mary. "One of the cult sacrifices is here! I think he escaped, too!"

"Solitary!" Harold yells back, "You have more strength in numbers!"

"I don't know how he can help me since last time I couldn't understand his language- oh! Er, hello?" Danny looks down to where the teenager is once again, clinging to his feet, babbling in his fast-paced language. He presses his face against Danny's leg, rubbing himself there, and the Halfa is quick to try to push him away. "Dude! Dude! Personal space!"

"My word!" Mary calls up, scandalized. "Danny, will you force this young one into being your bride?"

"What!? No! Wait—" Danny looks back at the scene where Mary is once again making that same disgusted face while Harold is offering him a thumbs up and an eyebrow wiggle. "You can understand him!?"

"Yes, can you not?" Harold responds.

"Not even a single word. Would you mind translating for me?"

"I can let you know what he is saying, but I'm afraid the living won't be able to hear us." Marry cautions, sounding strangely apologetic and relieved in the same tone. "He's attempting to bargain for his family's lives in exchange for being your bride."

"Why would he assume I even want their lives or him!?" Danny yelps, finally untangling himself from the teenager and putting in some much-needed details. He makes a x with his arms, hissing when the other guy makes a move to follow him.

"Hard to say. He's not making a lot of sense- it's just pleas for a bargain.," Harold shouts, speaking louder now that Danny has moved away from the hole's edge. "It is best to put some distance between you and him."

"But what about you?"

"Don't worry about us; we've been here long enough. Escape while you can and be safe!" Mary yells over the cries of the rest of the family, who seem to have finally snapped out of their daze.

Danny looked at the two adults, the one pre-teen and a crying five-year-old, and decided he did not want to stick around for more screaming in a language he could not understand. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Harold, Mary!"

"You're welcome!"

"It was a pleasure lad!"

Quick as a whip, Danny twists on his heel, racing for the fence and leaping over it. He's suddenly grateful for all the times he would sneak into Tucker's house as he clears over the wood in one smooth tug up and over, hitting the ground running.

He ignores the cries of the other humans behind him as he sprints down the surprisingly lovely suburban street.

___________________________________________________________

Jack Roux's hands shake as the demon disappears from view. He thought Batman had a handle on the cult and was free. But obviously, that wasn't the case.

When the ground first started to thump, he thought their garden had a mole or something, only to have his blood turn to ice when the ground gave way. Rising from the ground was the very demon that he had seen only two days ago.

His mother quickly ran to his side, wrapping Jack in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. His dad stood in front of him, likely wanting to be a shield between Jack and the demon. His little siblings crowed around crying in fright.

It had come back for him, even though he had assumed it was kind and likely was going to go after the others.

If I had been alone, Jack thinks, thankfully his father's quick thinking and fast-paced prayers had scared the thing away in time, I would have been taken again.

It's a bone-chilling thought.

[corroded-hellfire]

https://www.tumblr.com/corroded-hellfire/743622480481107968/reading-ayw-things-has-me-thinking-about-eddie-and

I loved this request! To add on the baby fever, but this has a little bit of sadness, when baby Eliza looses that newborn baby scrunch, meaning that she's no more a newborn and she's growing. I was loosing it when my cousin did this (we're like 5 years apart)

For those unfamiliar with the newborn scrunch: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLFYCP6t/

THE NEWBORN SCRUNCH! It is the cutest of cuteness. I can't even imagine how I'm going to feel when I someday have a baby and they stop doing this lol. Probably react like Reader, ngl 😂

Warnings: Mom!Reader, Dad!Eddie, Eddie should get kneed in the balls for suggesting having another baby so soon after Reader giving birth

Words: 1.2k

“Well, good morning my little cutie pie.”

Eliza gazes up at you from her bassinet, her little legs kicking within the confines of her pink teddy bear footie pajamas. 

“Morning, sweet pea.” Eddie comes up behind you and rests his chin on your shoulder as he smiles down at your infant daughter. 

“Ready to get up and start the day?” you ask, fighting back a yawn. Eliza has gotten on a more consistent sleep schedule, but you’re still nowhere close to your preferred eight hours. “Babe, can you grab an outfit for her?”

“Sure thing.” Eddie barely takes two steps towards the door to head across the hall to the nursery before hearing you whimper. He immediately spins back around and takes in the situation with wide eyes. “What? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

You’re still facing the bassinet, Eliza held out in front of you. Eddie can see the baby hanging from your grip, her eyes going over your shoulder to squint at her father.

Slowly, you turn to face him, hugging Eliza to your chest. Eddie sees the tears building up in your eyes and comes to your side.

“Hey, what is it?” he asks.

“S-She…” You sniffle and shake your head, unable to vocalize it. Her soft downy hair tickles your cheek as you cradle her. “She didn’t do the scrunch.”

Your husband’s face pinches up into a confused frown. His eyes slide to the left, then right, trying to figure out what the hell you’re talking about. 

“The…scrunch?” he asks. 

“The scrunch!” you whine. “The newborn scrunch!”

By the petulant tone of your voice, Eddie is pretty sure that you would’ve stomped your foot on the ground like a child if you weren’t holding your baby. The look on his face clearly conveys that he has no idea what you’re talking about because you sigh and continue to explain without any further nudge.

“You know how when you pick her up her little legs pull up towards her chest? Like she’s curling in on herself?”

“Oh,” Eddie says as it dawns on him. “Yeah, yeah, now I know what you mean.”

“She didn’t do it when I picked her up.” The wobble in your voice is clear and noticeable even before Eddie sees your bottom lip trembling. “She’s not my newborn anymore.”

“Of course she is,” Eddie says, placing a hand on the middle of your back and rubbing soothing circles there. “She’s only six weeks old.”

“She's already six weeks old!” you cry, the tears finally falling free past the lash line. 

“Aw, sweetheart.” Eddie chuckles, not unkindly, as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears away. 

“S’not funny,” you mumble, gently resting your head against your daughter’s.

Strong, warm arms wrap around you from the side, and you’re pulled up against a solid frame. A few soft kisses are pressed to the side of your face.

“I’m not laughing at you, baby,” he coos. “I think it’s cute, though.”

“Cute that I’m emotional over our baby growing up?” Your voice is harsher than you intended, but Eddie knows you don’t mean any harm by it. All of your hormones are still out of whack from pregnancy and giving birth. 

The end of her scrunch is just the first sign of her growing up. Suddenly you see her walking, saying her first words, going to her first day of pre-school, learning to ride a bike, having her first relationship, going to prom, graduating high school. The cherry on top is her packing up the car to head to college. More tears sting the back of your eyes at the thought. All of a sudden, her mere six weeks seem like a flash in the pan. 

“I think you’re cute,” Eddie amends. “Eliza’s still our newborn, though. She’s going to get stronger, and her little habits and cues are going to change, but she still needs her Mommy and Daddy for everything. Hell, I don’t think the boys could survive without us, either.”

Logic doesn’t always help even out the emotions, but your husband’s attempt does break through the surface. With a soft sniffle, you nod your head in agreement. Of course, Eliza is still your newborn and completely dependent on you. It doesn’t mean that you won’t have the same emotional upheaval when she can hold her head up on her own for the first time, but it’s comforting right now. 

Eddie has been doing a great job of letting you be a first-time mom and have all the emotions and experiences that go along with it, but sometimes his experience of having had two babies already helps ground you. 

“You’re right.” You exhale a deep breath and nod your head. “But I am still going to miss the scrunch.”

“Guess we’ll just have to have another one then, huh? Since you’re going to miss the scrunch,” your husband teases.

Slowly, you turn your head and give him a playful glare. The doctor just gave you the okay to start having sex again. The thought of pushing another baby out of your poor aching body is enough to threaten Eddie with never having sex again. 

“When you give birth, we can have all the babies you want,” you say.

Eddie laughs and presses a few kisses against your hair.

“Deal. Alright, let me go get her some clothes.” Eddie gives your side a loving squeeze before heading out into the hallway.

“Daddy’s right,” you say to Eliza as you gently rock her. “You’re still my new baby girl. I mean, look at these little fingers!” You offer her one of your index fingers and her fist instinctively curls around it. A smile grows on your face as you lift her small hand to your lips and press quick kisses against her knuckles. 

“Babe?” Eddie says as he grabs onto the bedroom door frame and leans into the room. “Where’s her yellow polka dot onesie? The one with the pink buttons.”

“Hmm?” You look at Eddie over your shoulder before turning to face him properly. “Oh, I packed it away a few days ago. She doesn’t fit into it anymore.”

Eddie frowns as he lets go of the doorframe and takes a few stumbling steps into the room. His messy bedhead sways with the movement.

“What?”

“Yeah, the buttons wouldn’t stretch to snap shut anymore,” you tell him.

A harsh sigh makes you look up at your husband. He crosses his arms over his chest and it’s a frighteningly similar look to when Luke is told he can’t have cookies before dinner. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“That was my favorite outfit of hers,” Eddie huffs.

You try your best to hide a smile, but biting your lip can only do so much. Now you realize what Eddie meant when he called you “cute” moments ago. Your husband’s pouting is currently rivaling Eliza’s adorableness. 

“It’s okay, Eds,” you tell him.

“How many clothes did you pack?” he asks, coming closer to you.

“A bunch of newborn ones that are too small now.”

“Eliza,” Eddie whines. He rests his chin on your shoulder and reaches around you to grab her tiny foot. “Why you getting so big? Stop growing up.”

It’s impossible for you not to chuckle at his words. Oh, how the tables have turned. 

[onelinerbust]

"I'm going back to my parents with the kids until New Year," Mary said with a resigned sigh, their toddler in her back while the 5 years old Ava gripping her hand

"Are you for real? Babe, the fuck? Why are you so dramatic?" Wes said mid-workout, both of his hands still gripping the dumbbells as if the pump should never stop, even when his marriage is in the brink

"Dramatic? You voted against my body! Against my rights! Against Ava's future! Why do you have to be so selfish?"

"Well, it's not like if I vote differently, the election suddenly went the other direction. Like.....seriously, calm down. You don't see the other wives walk away from their home,"

"This will be the last thing I said to you as your wife so you better listen to this carefully. Imagine not having a say about your own organ, let alone your own body in its totality. You voted for that. And I wish.......there's some kind...of wa-- way that will make you understand t--t--the feeling of losing autonomy....over your own----

*blackout*

Wes immediately realized that something is totally wrong as he witnessed his own self standing over him, building up sweat like crazy as the impostor finished his set. Then, it hits him, he's wearing his wife's clothing.

"Fuck yeah babe, finally, you're awake! Got the kids back inside and decided to do my workout while waiting for you to wake up. How do you feel?"

Wes is in complete disbelief. What on the Twilight Zone is happening here? The comically dreadful situation then quickly turned into a more tense setting as the impostor lowered his voice

"You said none of the wives are as dramatic as I am, right? Threatening to leave home and all that? Well, let's just say, this is the kind of way out the ladies managed to pull off. You're not the first one,"

Wes cannot hide his shock. Is the impostor really saying the truth? Is that why the men were quieter in the neighborhood group chat the past few days? Everything started to make sense, but still, a bodyswap? What kind of witchcraft is this?

"One last thing though. You probably wondered why then the men just accepted their fate and not running around for help. Well, let's just say that once this thick meat plough your new-found hole, you are going to be practically moldable to my whim. I'm definitely going to make you one hell of an obedient stay-at-home-mom devoted to make her husband and family happy, including aligning yourself to all your husband's belief. You will never vote against my wishes, ever again. But let me lift till failure first before I fuck you silly. Enjoy your last few minutes of freedom, babe,"

I think this is my longest story ever. The pictures really triggered something in my mind. Hope you all can enjoy it

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Overtime

This is the second prize in my giveaway for my follower @l3rittany. I hope you enjoy it! TW: Sexual references, AFAB Reader, Clingy, Missed communication

When Charlie offered you the job, you took it without question, with no idea that your ‘boss’ would be the fearsome radio demon himself. You thought you were just helping out an old friend who has done a solid for you once or twice. No idea that your soul could lay in the balance of another life or even its death. However, you would never revoke your word, so slacks and blouses became your life as the hotel's office coordinator. 

Working under Alastor wasn’t that bad; in fact, it was the best work you had ever had. He was precise and articulate with his needs, allowing you to get things done effectively while maintaining your personal life. Not to mention that the hotel had a cast of colorful characters that helped keep the days light and going, something you were grateful for on the more task-filled days. 

You wouldn’t say you were anything like Alastor; you were the polar opposite, as Charlie felt you would compliment Alastor's style, maybe even loosen him up while he helped you maintain a schedule. However, your differences did nothing to stop the growing butterflies you got as your years working with Alastor passed. Such differences only spurred your dream of a long-lasting relationship with the deer man. 

You knew your desires were nothing more than a dream, but time passed, and familiarity was bread. Before you knew it, you and Alastor worked in a tandem like no other. The seamless work between you two only led people in the hotel, and even hell itself, to assume something more was between you. Who is to say there wasn’t more between you two as time passed? Because what you saw as just Alastor being a gentleman of his time, he saw as courting his prized possession. 

Your hard work, dedication, and steadfast loyalty were all Alastor needed to know you were perfect for him—someone who strengthened his weaknesses and he yours. After a year of working with you, he was pleased when a docile routine started that led to these growing feelings. Alastor wanted nothing more than to hold, touch, love, and be with you—something he assumed you also wanted at the same time. 

Alastor only let you touch him after year two of working together. This was his way of telling everyone he was taken. He even went as far as not letting Rosie be all over him as much. However, you see it as Alastor closing off again. You felt lucky that you were still one of his few trusted companions. 

In year three of working together, Alastor began to buy you small trinkets he thought would better your outfits, compliment your eyes, or even make work easier for you. You were one to believe this was just his way of helping you out. A boss looking out for his best employee. Nothing more or less. 

What finally sent Alastor over the edge was year four when he asked you to accompany him to a formal Overlord event. This was going to be his time to debut you and him. Show everyone in hell who you belong to. He had survived years of you being everything he could want, and here he would let everyone know who his powerful love companion was. However, he didn’t expect to see you outside your usual work attire. 

You had gone all out for the event, wanting to make Alastor proud and fueling the fantasy that he adored you as you did him. You wore a dark red dress. The bodice wrapped around your neck with silver tendrils akin to deer horns. The waist was high, showing your curves that led to a high slit just above your thigh. You wore striking silver heels, which made you the perfect height for him. 

All the effort you put into your look was beyond what he had imagined, and Alastor was foaming at the mouth. He had never had these emotions before you entered his life and was starving for you. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, devour you. Everything he knew he could have after he debuted you tonight—his pretty Doe. 

As you took his arm, he felt at ease, a sense of calm washing over him. He felt complete; for once in his life, someone was there with him, accepting him. Smiling softly at you, he led the way to the party that would change the fate of your relationship for life. 

As you arrived, it was clear to everyone how Alastor was displaying you. He was showing that you were his and not to be messed with. Vox was pissed, Val was confused about how he got such a beauty, and Camilla was just tired of all the pissing contests everyone seemed to want to have. However, it became clear through small talk and idle chatter that maybe you and Alastor weren’t entirely on the same page.

When Vox cornered you in hopes of learning secrets about Alastor, you kept calling him boss and friend. When Zestial talked to Alastor, he called you his partner and lifemate. When Val started hitting on you, you turned Alastor away and laughed it off. Alastor was fuming and promised to make a hit on the moth later. 

Your relationship with Alastor was very confusing for all parties involved. Then came the events behind the party: people bidding on land for their claims. All Alastor cared about was the hotel's land; as he put it, ‘I can take whoever else’s land I please when I need it.’ However, you were guessing you were brought here to help with the budget and make sure he didn’t spend too much. 

As the bidding continued, you kept running off numbers to Alastor, and he was starting to get the bigger picture. You weren’t here to be his date but to be his work partner. Then it dawned on him, even if you had died eons before he did, even if you knew of many different customs and cultures. Was it possible you didn’t realize he was courting you? 

As the realization hit, he began laughing to himself. However, the laughter started to grow as he disrupted the entire ordeal. You had no idea he was in love with you, absolutely infatuated. You knew not of his desire to mate with you for life. He was baffled and honestly not shocked, as this was you he was talking about—his diligent little doe who was so good at work but oblivious to his advances. 

He finally understood why you never returned the advances or reached out for him or got him anything. You didn’t realize he wanted you and you alone. He hummed, satisfied with himself for the deduction. Even if he interrupted the party, he didn’t care because now he had a new goal: to get you home and show you how much he cared about you. 

Time ticked slowly; you had grown worried over the silent and now brooding Alastor. His laughing fit had caused everyone to be concerned, worried he would start an all-out brawl. However, he quit and was silent for the rest of the night. He kept you close to him; however, his arm never left your waist, allowing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. 

Once the evening ended, he didn’t stop there. The gentleman in him led you to your room, a soft butterfly kiss to your writs, palm, and cheek. When he pulled away and was greeted by your red face, that was all the confirmation he needed. You felt the same way; you were too shy to admit you loved your boss. Smirking, he allowed himself into your room. 

“Four and a half long years, Dear, and you are informing me now through your reactions that you finally feel the same. Tsk, Tsk, no, you have always felt this way, haven’t you? You are just too shy to admit it.” He looked at you longingly, craving your touch, which he finally had permission to have. 

“Al, where is this all coming from,” You were shocked, to say the least, a dark blush covering your face as he caged you in slowly into your room. 

“I have given you hint after hint, day after day, year after year, about my affection and adoration of you. However, it seems I wasn’t forward enough. So let me try again, yeah. " That sentence alone was all it took. In your brain, you wanted to shout no, that you are just boss and worker, but in your heart, you wanted to scream yes repeatedly. 

Your heart won over as you nodded subtly to his advances, allowing Alastor the right to do everything for you. He quickly pulled you in and accepted the first of many kisses. He was gentle and soft with you. He wanted to do this right, not rough at first. He heard stories, both alive and dead, about those who rushed in and didn’t appreciate all they had. 

Despite his hate for touch, he needed yours now and more than ever. He needed to feel all of you and know you genuinely knew how he felt. His heart was so full of love for you over the last five years that he needed you to know that you were his everything. This love filled him with a yearning for you and only you.

His lips are gentle against yours, each kiss stealing your breath away again and again. You hoped from here on out that they would always feel incredibly soft when he's wrapped around you like this, arms holding you in a soft but tight embrace. He had you melting in his hands.

His movements were slow, as if you have all the time in the world, an eternity, to make each other feel good. He slowly laid you down on the bed, your dress hiking up with your body. Slowly, he began to spread your legs and place himself between them as he hovered above you.

He was slow to undress you both. He started with you, eager to see you bare before him. To feel your soft skin against his own. He gently slid your dress off with your heels, peppering your body with soft kisses. Soon, he was stripping himself of his suit, leaving him just in his briefs above you. Both of you are enamored at the beautiful sights before you. “May I touch you…I am new to this; I only know what I have heard and seen a few times.” You gave a sweet, simple nod to him as his lips moved downwards to meet with your clit.

He makes sure there’s a pillow under your head so you can remain comfortable under his tongue while you place one under your hips to provide easier access to him. As he dived in, it was a sweet release for you both—the feeling of one another's skin as well as the pleasure building from his menstruations.

You sighed deeply, your hand coming to his head, shoving his face deeper into you. You needed him more, all of him, and Alastor was ready to deliver. He held you close, enjoying your taste, scent, and desire for him—something he was so eager for and so needy for. He wanted to love you right, as any gentleman should. 

“Al…Oh, Al fuck….Al, I am going to,” As you began to cum you could feel his horns grow more. Holding on to them, you rutted against his face, chasing your high. As the white behind your eyes pulsed, Alastor was relentless, ensuring he cleaned you thoroughly before pulling himself up. 

As he hovered above your face, covered in your slick, he held your hands above your head softly. He kissed you deeply, smiling at you, allowing your taste to fill your mouth. His kisses moved from your lips to your cheek to your chest, then your hands, and he peppered you with love and adoration. He was going to worship you and you alone. 

As you whined for me, he couldn’t help but chuckle. Gently, his hands caressed your body as you wrapped yours around his neck. Eager lips conjoined as you two kissed once again. He was sure one day he would devour you, but for now, this, this was his heaven. Maybe Charlie was right. A soul, even one taken by another, could be redeemed. 

Gently he pulls away and removes his briefs, his cock spriging free. He was eager and ready. Inexperienced or not, he knew one essential thing: a woman should always be pleased first. He smiled gently and lined himself up. When you nodded again to him, he slid in, panting with each inch that passed through you. He immediately loses himself the moment he feels your warm, wet, gummy walls squeezing and sucking him in.

"Oh fuck," He breathes, pelvis connecting with yours as he entirely sits inside you.

You're nose-to-nose, chest-to-chest, trapped under him with willowy arms on either side of you, and there's absolutely no space between you once he pulls your legs up to wrap around his hips. He needs you as close to him as possible. Your breaths mingle as he's working your insides, your nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowing with each deep thrust.

You can feel each throb and pulse, the tip of his cock kissing gummy wet walls each time he buries himself inside you. Alastor is enjoying your every reaction, committing each face and sound to his memory for later. Every sigh, gasp, and sweet moan of his name boosts his ego. He's taking care of you because he's making you feel like this. No one else can or will.

"You make me feel so good, Y/N; I need more of you, all of you," He leaned over you, entering you even more deeply. Each thrust hits a new and unexplored spot that sent you squeezing down on him ."You make me feel so good, sweetheart. My Doe.. my sweet Doe."

It's so intimate and romantic that it makes you needy throughout your act. It makes fireworks go off in your stomach. Each kiss is electricity, each thrust is a new breath of air, and each sound is your symphony.

"Alastor-" you hiccup as you look up at him through bleary eyes.

"Yeah, sweet girl? What do you need?" he had all his attention on you, nothing else. All Alastor ever cared about was you.

“More.. please, I need more.” Your pleas didn’t fall on deaf ears as Alastor moaned softly, repositioning you.

His hands quickly move down and grab your hips. He positions them higher, the new angle making him thrust right up against your G-spot, going a little faster than before. As soon as he hears your cries, he falls to a stable rhythm and has your eyes rolling back, gasping for air and making all those perfect sounds.

“Yeah, does that feel good? You like when I’m deep in you like this, fucking you just how you dreamed?” He asks, his voice starting to shake slightly. But you can’t respond. Not when your vocal cords won’t let you, preoccupied with your cute whines and mewls, you do your best not to be too loud for the courtesy of the other hotel residents. All noises resembling speech are mindless babbles, too hung up that you finally have Alastor as much as he had you.

“Shhh, I know. I know, my Doe,” His voice is so quiet and sweet that it almost makes your stomach sick. “Just sit there and take it like the good girl you are. That’s all you have to do.”

The way he is making your pussy flutter makes your stomach flip from hearing his deep moans; he makes your clit ache with need, begging for some friction right about now because all you can think about is cumming around his thick cock. You need to cum so bad, and Alastor, unbeknownst to you, can pick up on it.

 He notices the way you squeeze around him relentlessly, the way you go a little quiet as you try to focus on your orgasm. All gentlemen knew one cardinal rule: Your lady needs to feel good first.

“Open your eyes, dear. Let me see how pretty you look.” You take a moment to process his words before your glossy eyes barely flutter open again. " That’s a good girl. Keep those beautiful eyes on me.”

You feel his hand gripping your hip snake between your legs and down to your wet heat. It was only then that you took notice of the lewd, sloppy sounds coming from the both of you, your combined wetness and sweat creating a loud slap every time his hips met with yours. 

The pad of his thumb gathers some of that slick before pressing against your swollen nub, in turn making you jolt under him. He methodically works your clit in rhythm with his thrusts, and with how worked up you already are, you feel your nether regions burning. You glance down at his hand, working you so effortlessly. The way his cock disappears inside you, taking him so well. Suddenly, you feel so close. So fucking close.

“Please cum for me,” The way he said please and in such a soft tone made you unravel completely. You nodded, the tears welling in your eyes, ready to fall. A grin formed across Alastors face, not his normal one, a new one meant just for you.

“Cum for me, dear; I can feel you are holding back; release for me; let me make you feel good,” He leaned down to pepper small kisses along your soft jawline as his fingers on your clit quickened.

“Al…Al…AL Fuck… I-I’m gonna cum,” You managed to choke out, feeling his hips stutter as your walls pulse around him.

“Let go, sweetheart. Make a mess for me, I’ve got you.” The way he said it so lovingly made you go insane. Was this what you were missing out on for years? You could have had this all along. Why did you wait till now? How foolish were you? 

You feel your hips buck helplessly under him, a cry of pleasure getting ripped straight from your throat as you cum on his cock, your cunt pulsing and gushing around him. Hot tears roll down your flushed cheeks as you bury your face into his neck. Your hearing goes a little fuzzy, but you can make out his lengthy groans as he keeps pounding into you. You writhe in overstimulation below him before his hips stutter again, burying himself inside you with a harsh thrust as his seed shoots out, filling you. 

You sniffle into his neck in the aftermath. You hear him mutter a few soothing words as his lips touch your skin again, but his words fall on deaf ears as you try to catch your breath. Alastor and you were one now; no need for a soul contract. You were just one complete person.

“I love you, Y/N, only you, be my girl,” With a gentle nod from you and a quick soft kiss, those were the last words you could hear before falling asleep in his arms.

[endless-ineffabilities]

some mildly spicy Ewan 'The Iceberg' Mitchell headcanons for your imaginative indulgence

I want 'em all to see you look good on top of me At this time at night, I need not one, not three Just your two hands on me like my life needs savin' Let 'em all know

a/n: inspired by the release of the song 2 hands. purely self-indulgent, purely fictional, and nothing more. no explicit bits, because I steer clear of those for rpfs. so on your marks, get set...

main masterlist

✨️ He would be the most gentle partner during your first time together. Not rushing in the slightest as he prepares you, making sure you feel good and comfortable every step of the way, going down on you like it's his last meal on earth. He'd want to maintain eye contact, even as you fall apart underneath him. He would clean you up afterwards, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you fall asleep in his arms.

✨️ He is, of course, sweet and attentive and tender in bed. But the more you get to know him, the more he reveals his rougher, dominant side. You would find out that they were all right about him—while he does keep to himself a lot, Ewan is indeed secretly naughty >:)

✨️ There will be moments when he would be unsure, his eyes would flit all over the room then back to you, and you would know that he's biting back a question.

✨️ What is it, baby? — Hmm, nothing. — C'mon, Ewan. — I was wondering if... if I can take... pictures of you? — Of course, I mean... you already take a lot of pictures of me. — No, I mean... pictures. — Okay. Pictures. What...? — (he'd bury his face in your neck, as if ashamed) I want one where I can see my baby. Every single bit of my baby. — Oh.

✨️ And so that'll be the start of Ewan's most prized album in his phone. Suddenly, the lad will have a knack for photography. He'd capture all the right angles.

✨️ The boy is needy as hell. He'd actually whine in protest when he wants to do it, when he craves you, and you'd brush him off because you're busy working or you're in a rush to go to a meeting.

✨️ Baby, c'mon, just stay. — Ewan, I have to go to work. — I'm a successful actor, I can provide for you, baby. You don't ever have to work again. — Ewan, you're so ridiculous. — Okay, fine, fiiiiiine. But... just give me 10 minutes please. — I really gotta go, babe. — Alright, 5 minutes. Promise to make you scream.

✨️ He's a sucker for neck kisses. It tickles him a little when you nibble on the underside of his jaw, the crook of his neck. He could just lie there forever with his head tilted back and his fingers threaded in your hair.

✨️ But as much as he likes receving neck kisses, he likes doling them out even more. Hickeys stir a primal instinct in him, he likes seeing you covered—branded—in them. As if they prove that you're his and only his.

✨️ His favourite sight is watching you in the throes of climax. His second favourite is when you look up at him as you're on your knees, holding his gaze as you bring him closer to the edge.

✨️ Your bits and bobs would not be in places where you left them. The childhood photo of yours that you tacked onto the board above your desk — in Ewan's wallet. Your favourite piece of lace underwear — for some reason, in the hidden inner pocket of his trusty travel backpack. Your old hairtie — snug around his wrist, because he'd want to keep something of yours on him at all times (and! also useful in case you'd be in a new city together, for example, and you need 10 minutes and your hair neatly kept away from your face).

✨️ Ewan (the true blue cinephile) likes a cheeky fumble in the screen-lit darkness of the cinema. This means that you know to wear a skirt during your movie dates, to give him easy access as his hand wanders under your folded-up coat on your lap. He'd keep his head forward, watching the film as he buries his digits, but his darkened eyes give him away.

✨️ As much as he loves seeing you in nothing but your underwear and one of his metal t-shirts, wearing his clothes for long would be a challenge — the moment he catches sight of you like that, he's instantly turned on. That Metallica shirt would meet the floor. But... there would be times when he would want to have you with nothing but that on.

✨️ He wouldn't mind if you accidentally call him Aemond in the middle of it. It even spurs him on. He would also beg you to please call him my Prince or Prince Regent.

✨️ You would help him practice his lines. One thing in particular—he would want to fully act out the steamy scenes between Aemond and Alys with you, so he could carry that memory of you in his performance.

✨️ He would drive you both around in the old Ford he got from his dad as a gift for his 22nd. You like that he still uses the same car, even as his success continues to grow. And you would become quite familiar with every inch of that newly upholstered backseat.

✨️ If you ask him, he'll tell you he's keeping that car until it's nothing but rust on wheels. Every faint stain and tiny scratch on the leather a reminder of heated moments (fogged up windows, tangled limbs, sharp commands, gear shifts, riding) too precious to part with.

✨️ Not to mention, that backseat is his favourite location to do it in. And it's yours too ;)

[hai7ani]

a final piece to tachibana / link to previous

Haitani Rindou, Me and My Husband

Haitani Rindou is 28, an ex-felon, and he has no idea what the other guys his age do, other than stare at a wall and wank all day like the idiot from his cell does. He's tried so hard fantasising, and yet he still can't imagine a life of actually having consistent daily, weekly routines. When he's out and he witnesses the rush of modern day Tokyo where everyone's constantly in a hurry to get to somewhere, he can't help but question just where in the world are they going, and what in the hell are they rushing to do. Work? Are they that devoted to their job? Meeting a friend? Are they really that important?

He's spent the last 8 years of his life stirring soup and boiling rice in a kitchen that earns him about ¥500 per month, sweep fallen leaves during autumn while witnessing fights break out between inmates at the yard, and work out in the mini gym of a prison.

Now that he's out and he's staying with you at your place out of your own wallet where you've also bought him a phone with a functioning sim card, some warmer clothes to wear and laze around in, and pay for all the things in the house despite him having a job as well that pays more than what he's used to earn, he feels awfully bad. He stares at the digits in his bank account as he rubs at his nape.

For the first time in his life, Haitani Rindou has no clue what to do with himself.

You work a nice paying job in corporate 一 a result of your endless hard work, a desperate yet successful attempt to break free from your past 一 and at night he refills the vending machines that you and your co-workers empty during the day.

He's aware that the current gap between the two of you is big 一 it's extreme. He hates that he isn't able to provide more for the two of you at home other than doing simple laundry or sweeping the floor while you're away at work. He knows how to cook a little (simple recipes that the inmates eat daily, but he knows you won't like the food, because you weren't an inmate), but not full-on meals that you usually make and leave in the warmer for him when he finally gets home to eat.

He thinks about who he was before his time in prison and he doesn't recognise that boy anymore. An extremely outgoing party boy who rebels, fights and drifts when the sun is down, and an ex-felon who works about 4 hours per night refilling vending machines that people like his past-self vandalise and abuse just for the fun of it 一 those are 2 different people living 2 different lives, from 2 different universes.

Tonight, when the moon is up and he's got you in his arms 一 all warm and tucked in while you snore in his ear 一 he thinks about just what can he do for you to make you happier. He's aware he won't be able to provide much financially 一 not right now at least, and he's not a great communicator as well. He isn't confident he can always get his point across without having it sound like he means an entirely different thing. He has spent more time away from you than with you, after all.

And he hates to say it because he thinks he's in no position to do so, but the two of you are a bit complicated. You're childhood sweethearts who come from the same hometown and grew up together, he's the one who committed a crime, got sent in, and you were left yearning for him on the outside. He's the one who's made love to you before, and it is also his fault that the two of you are like this right now. You're kissy and touchy, he sleeps shirtless and you sleep in just panties, but you don't have a label to your relationship. He doesn't see you as a friend 一 he sees you as his world, but if he were to introduce you to another person, does he call you his friend?

He doesn't know how to make it better, but you always seem to make it feel like everything's alright when you'd knock on the bathroom door and offer to help him shave or give his hair a trim. He thinks the two of you are doing fine, but then his mind shifts to the therapist note you'd obviously accidentally left sitting on the dining table one morning and his heart aches.

You haven't been doing well lately. Recently. Frequently. For many, many years, you haven't been okay. He wonders if you have always smiled this often around other people 一 when he was still in prison, or before you were able to see each other again after years of lost contact 一 because you're always grinning ear to ear when you'd cling onto him in bed or straddle him on the couch while plucking his eyebrows as he hisses in pain.

But when you shift a little in bed and snuggle your nose deeper into his neck and sigh, the tightening in his chest softens a little. Your alarm's going to ring in about 5 minutes and he switches it off before it can. He spends the rest of your time rubbing your back, waking you up gently as he gives you some time to adjust to opening your eyes. He hates that you always seem to jolt awake when the alarm rings, as if it scares you a lot. It's almost the same reaction he's seen in you when you were younger and would hide against a raised fist. He doesn't want you to feel like that anymore. He went away for this exact reason and all he wants to do is to hide you away from fear.

And as you stare up at him, eyes half-lidded and cloudy, it's as if the colour of your irises are hypnotising him with words 一 whispering it in his ear as they ask, "do you still not see it?"

He does. He sees it now.

All the doubts and worries in his head swiftly vanishes and it all makes sense now 一 why you still choose to be with him despite everything that's happened to your lives, why you still seem to care so much for him.

The love in your eyes evident, as you smile softly while the sun slowly rises above the horizon, and he settles.

You love him just as much as he loves you.

All you've ever needed was him. Just him. Your Rindou.

He's got nothing else to worry about now 一 he's got the world in his arms. Even if it'll take him years to adjust to his new life, he'll be doing it with you.

Perhaps today he'll take the time to bake you your all-time favourite chocolate chip muffins 一 he'll run to the store to get the ingredients and maybe pass by the jeweller, browsing.

He wonders if the numbers in his bank account would be enough to buy him a ring, but he'll have to get the size of your finger first, right?

tachibana's tldr (TW!): you and rin were childhood friends, you were abused growing up, rindou killed your abuser and went to jail for it but you never found out until ran told you so you think he's been mia all this while when he's actually in jail

tachibana is officially discontinued, but i didn't want to leave it hanging because i cherish the story a lot (it just wasn't well-planned), so here's a final piece to wrap up the story 🤍

[white--moon]

At first it was kind of difficult to imagine Ichigo sitting at a desk, writing into the early hours of the morning, hours he's usually out roaming the streets or working a very different kind of job. But the more they talk about it, the more easily the image comes to him. He never really saw Ichigo bent over his studies when they were together, but he knows that's because he was too much of a distraction. Without himself in the picture, it's a lot easier to imagine.

He scoffs, "I never do anything embarrassing." Very very not true. Ichigo makes himself so punchable sometimes. Shiro struggles not to roll his eyes, and plays along instead. "Oh, don't downplay that. It'll be the most interesting part of the whole story. Who doesn't love a doomed romantic subplot attached to the misunderstood character? Most of the criminal population probably doesn't read anyway."

Ichigo's not wrong, but damn that's kind of harsh. "Yeah but I'd say no to all of them real fuckin' fast to say yes to you instead." He'd drop everything and everyone for Ichigo. Obsessed, like Ichigo's going to write in his book. And he's glad for the confirmation that he's the hottest guy Ichigo knows, but he didn't really want to hear about whatever complicated thing is going on between Grimmjow and Ichigo. Except it shifts gears into something. Shiro blinks, then heaves an exasperated sigh. "I understand he's mad at me, but I'm literally so loaded I don't know what to do with it. All he has to do is say something. Hell he could'a just sent me his rent bill or something." What an asshole. He doubts Grimmjow wants handouts from him, "Or I could find work for him. Doesn't even have to be illegal shit. I have a lot of connections."

That scowl makes Shiro's hackles raise, but the words take most of the fight out of him. He's so twisted up about Ichigo. He sighs. "I do. I do wanna be friends." The problem is that he doesn't know how to be just friends with Ichigo. He's going to settle for it, because it's all he's going to get, but it's going to hurt.

He shrugs. "Not all of it. I move the important stuff. Politicians, celebrities. People who think they're being discrete. Only reason I never moved my own product before was because I didn't trust myself around it often." He offers up a sort of self deprecating smile. "That's not an issue anymore. But it's a lot of product, a lot of money and a lot of networking to trust to someone else, so it works out."

He watches Ichigo check his own vehicle from the driver seat, and starts rolling down the drive when he sees Ichigo climb into the car and start it. He takes them into the city, to a hole in the wall alt fashion shop that has too many items crammed into a too small of a space. It's his favorite place for clothes though.

"Oh, you were bein' a smartass?" There's a heavy dose of sarcasm in his tone while he rolls his eyes. But it's good to hear that Ichigo is still thinking of his sisters in this. Ever the protector. Has to make sure his sisters are alright, had to interrupt his own life to make sure Shiro gets through this treat.

He smirks slightly about that. "What would it be about? What it's like runnin' around the streets doin' everyone else's dirty work?" He scoffs, but it's good natured. "Whatever, I'm not that hard to figure out. How to understand a back alley drug dealer for dummies." He laughs, amusing himself.

Aiming a look at Ichigo, he arches a brow and disagrees. "I always need a bunch a' guys saying yes to me. Preferably hot ones." Not that he's sleeping with his staff. He tried that exactly twice. The first time was disastrously annoying and it was not a fluke.

It is a fair question, and he wants to argue that, but Ichigo keeps going to answer the question anyway. "I wasn't asking what you think, I was asking exactly what I asked." But he got Ichigo's option anyway and it doesn't surprise him. He notes that Ichigo didn't actually say yes or no to wanting him there, though. He's talking around the answer the same way Shiro did about the shirt. "I already plan on laying low for a while. As much as I can, at least. I think I'll stay in the penthouse for a while. It's a lot safer than the mansion but it'll seem less like hiding." And he can higher some muscle to keep around easy enough, like Ichigo's suggesting, he's stubborn about it. He has always been his own muscle. He's never needed security or guards, but this is getting bigger than he can handle on his own. It's getting bigger than he thinks he warrants, but he has made himself notoriously hard to get rid of.

He doesn't know how to feel about Ichigo trying to keep him and his maybe-boyfriend situation intact. It's good of him, it's the morally right thing to do. The only real problem with it Shiro has is that it's just further proof that he and Ichigo have no chance of being together again. "I'll figure things out with him, you don't need to worry about it." Or he wont. Maybe he'll sabotage his own building relationship and blame it on all the chaos of attempted assassination. His features even out. "All my habits?" This better not turn into a lecture. "He thinks I indulge a little too much sometimes, but otherwise he tolerates it. I doubt he expected anything less from a dealer. Most people don't know I was ever clean, only you. It was always weird for me not to use the product I was sellin'."

He slides into the driver seat and starts the car, then looks over at Ichigo and snorts. "You mean boring?" He shrugs. "I needed something with more cargo space that didn't stand out so much. It's easier to clean, too. Less work for my cleaner."

[kyoghurts]

春のような微笑み

( a smile like spring )

you, rumored to be one of the most unapproachable, dismissive people—and even rude, according to a handful of acquaintances—are yet to be proven by your own actions, which are the total opposite of the rumors. perhaps the perception was fueled by brief, impersonal interactions or whispers from those who never truly knew you. sure, your wordings could come off a little harsh, your tone as monotone as a tired teller on a monday morning, or your gaze cold enough to drown someone in antarctica, but those traits don’t define you as a whole. not when they finally saw your frost thaw for the first time.

OR furin boys when they see your soft side for the first time <3

contents. fluff | headcanons & small drabbles. featuring sakura haruka, nirei akihiko, suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki, ren kaji, and umemiya hajime!

notes. title is inspired by the song 二十歳の恋 (hatachi no koi) by lamp! go read this while listening to it ^_^ get cozy and comfy, and enjoy reading this little treat i made. i also based off the reader of myself bc i have the perpetual rbf, unfortunately.

SAKURA HARUKA’s thoughts would probably spiral, his mind unable to process what he’s seeing. a long, beeping sound rings in his head as he watches you—you—smiling in front of him, your eyes gleaming with a hint of mirth. he’s frozen to the ground, completely lost for words or actions. the moment sinks in, and then—his cheeks flush in embarrassment. what the hell was that?!

things start to change until then, your softness is suddenly at the forefront of his thoughts. everything you do or say starts to make sense.

when you helped a small child who’d fallen off their feet one time, his gaze instantly renders the relaxed expression on your face, and there was warmth in your gesture.

“y-you should smile more often..” he’ll whisper to you when you’re both alone, he’s convinced that you can’t hear him. but really, it does something to your heart, far more than your reactions can show.

NIREI AKIHIKO is completely apprehensive when it comes to you, he’s never personally met you, but the way you carry yourself makes him feel like looking into your eyes would be like inviting a curse. so imagine him turning blank when he finally does, and all he can see is a quiet and grateful look when he instinctively reached out to hold the door open for you one random day while you were running late for your part time job, it felt surreal to say the least.

you were muttering under your breath, cursing your tardiness when you spotted nirei’s familiar figure near the entrance. before you could ask, he’d already moved to hold the door, and you managed a quick, slightly breathless, “thank you so much.” his brain went blank; the quiet, grateful look on your face rendered him motionless, a sense of disbelief washing over him.

imagine also the next day, when you approached him during his patrol and handed him a cold melon soda, his jaw nearly dropped. you didn’t say much, just a simple “thought you might need this,” he stared wide-eyed as you walked away, his heart pounding as he thought, this is a monumental day in my sixteen years of life.

SUO HAYATO is amused, to be fair, he’s turned deaf ears on mumbling rumors. he knows how you operate in just one glance, and doesn’t take your sudden shift in your disposition to be of news. instead, when your eyes light up as he approaches, your body language becoming more open and even chatting more than you usually do, he can’t help but feel a little internal happiness.

he’s a little amused by how you get more animated when you talk, he eggs you on a little, pushing you to talk more, until you don’t even realize it yourself. he can’t help but smile fondly at you, unbothered by how comfortable you’ve gotten, even if you don’t notice it.

hands you a bag of genmaicha without context, the sticky note he left doesn’t help either. it says, “not too fancy or too simple. easy to be around, but has depth that surprises when you least expect it.” and you’re just like “..???” but still appreciates the gesture, hoping you’ll crack this cryptic message once you taste the tea yourself.

(hint: he isn’t really talking about the tea)

KIRYU MITSUKI was subtly wary, both the rumors and you, but it only takes a stray cat to prove all of them wrong.

kiryu couldn’t shake the image of you crouched on the sidewalk, gently stroking the scruffy tabby’s fur, cooing softly like you were coaxing something fragile into trust. you have a thing for cats? he wanted to approach you then. the harsh, cold exterior he’s always seen in you is nowhere to be found, or maybe there wasn’t one in the first place. your resting bitch face just so happened to really intimidate someone without your knowing.

when you looked up and locked gazes, the faintest flush crosses your features, you stood up and brush off the encounter like it was nothing.

by then, kiryu couldn’t help but think of you whenever he sees any stray cats around, even petting them the same manner you did.

REN KAJI and the silence you offer is one he actually enjoys. but oh, when the rest of the furin boys walk ahead as the both of you take your time behind, with the sunset painting your relaxed features in warm glow, he couldn’t help but stare.

it softens the edges around your face, an almost imperceptible smile on your lips. you catch him staring and he immediately looks away. feeling the tips of his ears burn in embarrassment.

he sees in his peripherals the way you tilt your head, a question raised with your eyebrows, enough to acknowledge him without a word.

when he hears you chuckle, ren can’t tell if it’s amusement or something else. but oh, he didn’t know that a chuckle could sound this sweet. not even music could come close to the sound of it.

UMEMIYA HAJIME but instead of a chuckle, it’s a full, hearty laugh — prompted by his ridiculous and stupid jokes while the both of you tend to his plants & veggies

from the rooftop, everything is quieter than usual, only hearing the faint gust of wind and rustling of leaves. the lightness of the moment makes him utter jokes absentmindedly, until you scoff at him, and then he throws in another joke, one after the other

and then he gets startled when he delivers a punchline, startled by how genuine your laugh was. his joke was so ridiculous he had to choke in his own laughter

it feels so much lighter after, a shy smile forming your lips, and hajime feels his heart doing something funny. he clears his throat and pretends to focus back on the plants.

if he could, he wishes to keep this side of you to himself just a little longer. he’ll cherish it every day, and he’s already cherishing it now. a big dumb grin slipping its way while he blushes. he'll probably turn it into a mission to make you laugh like this. it's just so addicting, you look so sweet like this.

© kyoghurts ⟢ reblogs and likes are well appreciated

[ashkabbom]

Thoughts of the Day - Mouthwashing

A/n: I don't know what this is 🧍🏽. I started with one idea and ended up with a completely different one. Lock your doors and windows before you go to sleep, or Jimmy will appear in your room at night.

•Pre-Crash!Captain Curly x Reader (Not the focus, but it's still here)

Synopsis/Summary: Situations from every week, questions from every day

Notes: I apologize in advance for the phrase Swansea says😭

Why had he done this? He condemned you all to immediate hell.

That day, the emergency screen, the red lights everywhere and the sound, all of that could only be a bad dream, right? It had to be a nightmare.

What had you done to deserve this? Years of work thrown away with a single action and you don't even know why it was all thrown down the drain without any prior warning.

You loved him like never before, your days with him meant much more than all the work you had in this place.

The layoff was already a problem, but this was beyond what you could handle in the future. If there even was a future.

The tears fell and you felt yourself slowly going crazy. The captain was out of the game now and in his absence they put Jimmy as an anesthetic for the immense despair in everyone on that ship, but it didn't work at all, it was the calm before the storm.

Anya looked as uncomfortable about it as anyone on that ship. Having Jimmy as captain was stressful, to say the least.

You and the others came to a silent agreement about the now captain. He was as cowardly as anyone there, but he was still second in command.

"What do we do next?" You ask, taking a deep breath, wiping your tears on the sleeve of your uniform.

"I don't know, but his painkillers will run out at some point." Anya also looked apprehensively at the captain's situation.

At the same time that you felt anger and disappointment, you also felt worry and uncertainty, you still loved him. The story made sense to some extent, but it didn't match the captain you knew.

"You.. You know how I feel about this, I think it's the right thing to do, Anya." It was weird to think about doing that with someone you like, you don't even know if you can imagine yourself doing such a thing.

She didn't have to answer, but as much as neither of you wanted to, you silently agreed that it was the quickest and least cruel option towards him.

"What a funeral atmosphere." Daisuke's voice coming from the door startles you both, making you turn to look at him.

"Well, this is almost a funeral- Ouch!" You can't even finish before Anya pinches your neck. "Okay okay, I get it."

"And how is it going? How is he?" He approaches the stretcher and looks at the captain, saying good morning and sighing soon after. "At least he's alive..."

"The painkillers help to control the pain and he can... Sleep, I think, or at least not writhe in pain and discomfort." Anya says to Daisuke, knowing that it was impossible for Curly to have any slight improvement in the situation they were in.

"But still no sign of being able to speak, and it would take a miracle for him to actually be able to say something." You say sincerely.

Daisuke nods in acknowledgement, he wondered if keeping the captain in this state for months was right. When they return to Earth, Curly could receive specialized treatment for his situation in a Hospital, right?

"The Totally Spies girls better get back into their disguises, or the Mojo Jojo will find you out." Swansea warns, leaning against the door.

If everyone was in sickbay, Jimmy would probably be hunting one of them around the ship. It's only a matter of time before Jimmy shows up and starts putting stress and pressure on everyone, so Swansea was right.

You pat Daisuke on the shoulder and then look at Anya. "You heard Jerry, girls, back to disguises." Anya lets out a small laugh, a small quiet moment before dealing with the reality of things.

"I'll give the painkiller to the captain this time, I'll see you guys later" You say waving to your colleagues before grabbing the bottle of painkiller.

Daisuke and Anya walk to the door, chatting a bit before agreeing on where each of them would go. "But isn't the Mojo Jojo from The Powerpuff Girls?" Is the last thing you hear Daisuke say before the door closes.

It's just you and him now. No matter how much you tried to ignore it, but you could feel Curly's gaze burning you alive, so many things wanted to be understood with just a single look from his eyes.

If he could say something, what would he say? What would be his version of what happened? Why would he have crashed the ship? Would he want us to keep giving him the painkillers or just end his suffering?

Looking at him, burned, unable to speak or move properly, lying on that stretcher, which was now his bed and the infirmary his room. He just stared, unable to close his eyes at any moment, you didn't know what was going on in his head, it was impossible to guess any feelings he had by looking at his face.

"It's Captain... You should have thought better about your actions before you did this to us..." You say with the painkiller in hand. The urge to cry formed again and made you feel suffocated. "You have to take responsibility somehow at least..."

[runnning-outof-time]

If It’s Meant to Be | John Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: John Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: John and (Y/N) were friends when they were younger. Life, as life does, pulls them apart for some time before they find each other again while (Y/N) is helping someone who happened to be lost.

Warnings: season 4 spoilers…maybe?? (I’m re-writing canon to make things better), language

Word Count: 4450

A/N: if I’m being honest I quite enjoyed following your prompt/request, anon! I hope I was able to add everything you were hoping into it and that it turned out along the lines of what you were imagining! I’m sorry that it’s taken ages for me to share. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

comment/message me if you want to be tagged!

If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. That phrase gets thrown around so much. John Shelby always thought that he and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) were meant to be. But things didn’t quite work out that way…at first.

They were practically inseparable as teens. All it took was one meeting near the cut for the two to know that they wanted to be in each others lives for as long as possible.

Wherever (Y/N) was, John was to be found close by. If John was out doing something, nine times out of ten (Y/N) was helping out in some way.

Family members often joked that the two were attached at the hip. Ada even went as far as to conspire with (Y/N)’s younger sister, the two saying that they were excited to become future sister-in-laws.

But things don’t always work out to plan.

The dream of the families uniting as one through John and (Y/N)’s union crumbled slowly rather than it just being one, major blow.

(Y/N) started delving more into her studies; having big dreams of graduating and going further in schooling so that she could make something of herself. She’d always wanted to have more than just the lower-level jobs that Small Heath had to offer. She still tried to see John as much as she could, but the nights that were once spent gallivanting around the streets together had now been swapped for study sessions.

John couldn’t be completely mad at his friend. He wanted her to succeed and have the life that she was dreaming of. Sure he missed her company, and truly relished in the time that they were still able to spend together, but to say that he was now left completely in his lonesome would be a lie.

John met Martha Davies when she and her family moved to Small Heath.

Unlike how he was with (Y/N), who he tried so hard to hide his deeper feelings for behind the mask of friendship, John immediately went forward with expressing his desire to get to know Martha better.

While (Y/N) was busy with studying, John was busy with Martha. It was easy to tell how quickly the two had fallen for each other.

The news - though it really shouldn’t have given how quickly the two became…acquainted with each other - came as a shock just only six months into John knowing Martha. Hell, (Y/N) had only met her a handful of times before John was excitedly telling her the news that Martha was pregnant and he was going to be a father.

(Y/N) should have been happy for him. And on the outside she tried her best to present her emotions that way. But deep down, her real feelings that she’d been harboring towards her friend for years now were being crushed. She always pushed them aside for fear that he only purely saw her as a friend; for the fear that her revealing them would cause him to run from her life forever. Now there was no way that he’d ever know of them.

John, who was just a few months shy from his final teenage year, was now going to be a husband and father — he felt it was only right that he marry Martha given the fact that they’d now share a child.

If John was going to grow up this suddenly, (Y/N) felt that she should to. Her prelininary studies were finished and she was ready to go and make something of herself.

And so she moved to London, one step closer to her dream but many miles away from the person who grew up alongside her.

— 1924 —

Ada was the first to learn that (Y/N) was back in town. She didn’t waste any time in inviting her to what the Shelby woman promised would be ‘an amazing evening’.

Many things had changed since (Y/N) had last seen the Shelbys. One of the more major ones was the fact that they had quickly rose into wealth and power.

On this particular evening, Tommy and his new wife, Grace, were holding one of their regular events; where people of power and prospective business partners gathered to shake hands and attempt to make deals. It was a circle that (Y/N) felt she was so far removed from.

Ada’s persistence was hard to ignore though. She kept focusing on the fact that it was a different sort of event for the family invovled, and that everyone would be thrilled to see her again. (Y/N) couldn’t deny the fact that she, too, would be overjoyed to see the Shelbys again…even if it meant that her heart might break.

She made sure to wear one of her more sophisticated outfits and that her appearance was as perfect as it could get. When the time to leave arrived, she checked over herself in the mirror one last time before grabbing her clutch and heading down to the car that was waiting for her.

The manor she pulled up to left her in awe. Never did she expect to be welcomed into a place as grand as this. But if there was anyone in her life, past or present, who could be capable of obtaining this sort of grandeur, it would no doubt be Tommy Shelby.

“(Y/N)!” Of course Ada was the first person to find her. “I’m so happy you came!” the brunette exclaimed as she hasitly pulled her into a hug.

“You doubted I would?” (Y/N) asked, trying to focus on her friend rather than the crowd of people present in the grand foyer area of the manor. If there’s this many people in the entry room, how many would be in the banquet hall? she thought to herself.

“Never,” the other woman shook her head, “come with me. The others will be so excited that you’re here!” she then said, taking hold of (Y/N)’s forearm so that she could lead her into the banquet hall. (Y/N) hesitantly followed, not quite wanting to see the man she used to call ‘best friend’ just yet.

Thankfully Ada pulled her to Polly first. (Y/N) was happy to see her. Polly was just as much an aunt to her as she was the Shelby siblings. And, much like Ada had promised, the older woman was thrilled to see her again.

Time quickly slipped away and (Y/N) truly felt like the tiny group that had been assembled were the only ones in the room. She quickly slipped into a comfortable state, the crowds of people truly disappearing as the women caught up on everything they’d missed out on in the others’ lives.

Ada was the first to be pulled away. She was found by one of the house’s staff — which blew (Y/N)’s mind…Tommy had staff now?! — who needed her because Karl was becoming restless and ready for bed. She promised that she’d only be gone briefly and that she’d find Polly and (Y/N) again as soon as she was finished.

Polly got pulled away too. Tommy needed her to meet a prospective business partner. He greeted (Y/N) warmly — after he realized it was her — and expressed his gladness to see her before asking his aunt to join him for a moment.

Now (Y/N) was alone in this crowded hall of people. She stood and did some crowd-watching for some time (people just being people truly fascinated her) before deciding to go and find some refreshments to indulge in.

But she didn’t make it to said refreshments table…and it seemed that she wasn’t the only person who was alone at the party.

Although there were people moving all around, it seemed as though she was the only person who noticed the small boy who was cowering into himself with fear present in his eyes.

Cautiously, and with a friendly smile, she approached the child, whose bottom lip was quivering. It was evident that he’d been crying. “Do you need help, sweetheart?” she asked him, keeping her voice calm and level in hopes to not spook him any more than he already had been.

The boy only nodded his head, his wide eyes matching hers. The desperation present in them nearly broke (Y/N)’s heart.

“Are you hurt?” she asked a question.

The boy shook his head, ringing his small hands together.

(Y/N) inwardly sighed in relief. At least he’s not hurt, she thought to herself, now what could be the matter? After racking her brain, she asked another question, “are you looking for someone?”

The boy nodded this time. More relief filled (Y/N)’s body. He said nothing in addition to his nod, though, so she still had some more questions to ask.

“A friend?” she asked, remembering that she’d seen several children running around the room earlier.

The boy shook his head.

“A grown up?”

The boy nodded.

Ok, on the right track, (Y/N) thought, nodding along with him. “Your parents?” she asked.

“M-my dad,” the boy finally spoke, his mouse-like voice breaking (Y/N)’s heart. What he said next shattered it even further into pieces, “my mummy’s not here anymore. She…my aunt said she went to heaven.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie,” (Y/N) gave her condolences with a frown. “How about we go find your dad, hmm?” she then asked, offering another friendly smile.

“Ok,” the boy nodded, reaching his hand out for (Y/N) to take. The woman smiled as she accepted it, and the two began walking, searching through the crowd for his father.

“Let me know if you see him, ok?” (Y/N) said to the boy. She’d just realized that she had no idea who his father was.

“Johnny there you are!” a young girl exclaimed, her eyes set on the boy (Y/N) had been helping.

“We were looking everywhere for you!” a second girl chimed in.

(Y/N) looked down at the boy, whose expression hadn’t changed. She crouched down slightly to be more on his level. “Do you know them?” she asked him.

The boy nodded. “They’re my sisters,” he answered, his eyes still focused on the girls, who were now approached them.

“Who are you, miss?” the older of the two girls asked once they stopped in front of (Y/N) and the boy.

“My name’s (Y/N),” the woman introduced herself with a smile, “your brother was lost and needed some help finding your dad.”

“Well we don’t know where dad is either,” the younger of the two girls stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “but Johnny can come with us. We’re dancing.”

(Y/N) looked to the boy, who had calmed down significantly now. “Is it ok if you stay with your sisters?” she asked, her eyebrows raised slightly.

The boy nodded his head, the slightest of smiles now present on his face. (Y/N) smiled back, happy that he was no longer upset. But he caught her hand before she was able to stand up straight again. “Will you stay with us, Miss (Y/N)?” he asked in a sweet voice.

The question really wasn’t up for decision in (Y/N)’s mind. She knew her answer right away. Hell, she had nothing else better to do, or no one else she needed to see…so why not pass the time with these kids? “Of course,” she answered with a smile, laughing softly as the three children all cheered in joy. The little group wasted no time falling into beat with the music and dancing with smiles on their faces.

Unbeknownst to (Y/N), Polly and Ada had regrouped and were now watching her and the children as they danced.

“I wonder if she knows,” Ada queried out loud, watching her friend dance with her neices and nephew with a small smile.

“I don’t think she does,” Polly answered, shaking her head. A tight-lipped smile was also present on her face.

“You two seen any of the kids anywhere?” the voice of John Shelby came from behind the ladies, “ran off a while ago…haven’t fucking seen them since.”

Ada and Polly shared a look, both biting back smiles. John was able to catch said look.

“Well go on…share it,” he pressed them, his brow furrowing in annoyance. He didn’t have time for this…there were drinks to drink and ladies to charm. If they thought he’d be spending the entire evening chasing after his children, they’d be dead wrong.

“Your youngest was up with Karl. He was asleep when I went to attend to him,” Ada shared some information about Maxwell Shelby, John’s four year old.

“And the others?” John’s brows were now raised.

“They’re right over there,” Polly answered, pointing a finger in the direction of the dancing group.

John wasted no time following her finger and when he did, his world stopped. No. That…that couldn’t be her…could it? Questions raced through his mind as memories flooded back. God, she looks more beautiful than the day she left me, he was so entranced that he just about forgot how to breathe.

“John?”

The voice of his aunt brought him back to reality, and he shook his head as he snapped out of the trance she put him in. A hand went up to scratch the back of his neck instinctively, and he hoped that he could play off his staring. The grins on both of the women’s faces told another story.

“He didn’t hear a word you said, Pol,” Ada snickered, loving the fact that she was able to poke fun at her brother.

“Oh fuck off,” John grumbled, trying so hard to keep his focus on his family and not the beautiful woman that was still playing with his children. A silence fell between the trio and John took it to do just what he was stopping himself from moments ago. “I…I, uh, I should…” he stopped his babbling, clearing his throat and trying to regain his wits. Christ, just the sight of her had him babbling like a fucking child. “I should probably uh, probably go over and see how they’re getting on,” his statement sounded more like a suggestion…which was weird because he was essentially suggesting for himself to go and do it.

“Go on then,” Polly wasted no time in agreeing with her nephew, motioning over to where (Y/N) and the children still were.

“Yeah,” John agreed, like it wasn’t even his idea in the first place. He didn’t move though.

“Grow a pair and get on with it, John,” Ada snapped him out of the trance he once again fell into, still grinning at the fact that John was very much acting like a lovesick fool at the moment. In fact she hadn’t seem him like this since…well since he was around (Y/N).

With one last glare, John finally heeded to their nudges and started off in (Y/N)’s direction. Her back was to him as he approached, and she was dancing with his eldest son, Johnny. His daughters, Jane and Katie, did see him coming though, their eyes lighting up when they realized he was there.

“Daddy!” they exclaimed in unison.

The yelling of the girls made (Y/N) stop what she was doing and turn. Seeing the person who they’d addressed made the breath get caught in her throat. No. It can’t be, she thought to herself, her heartrate quickening by the second.

John was - also - back to staring again. He still couldn’t believe that she was standing right in front of him.

“Dad…dad, did you hear me?” the sound of Katie’s impatient voice brought him back to reality. He focused in on his daughter as he heard the sweet sounds of (Y/N)’s giggles. They made it feel like there was heat being placed on the back of his neck.

“I…I didn’t, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he sheepishly answered his child.

“I was telling you that this is (Y/N). She found Johnny and then agreed to stay and dance with us. She’s really nice,” Katie explained again.

Her being referred to gave John the go ahead to look at (Y/N) again. This time he willed himself to stay focused and not get lost in the memories they shared together, or how beautiful she looked.

“She helped me because I was crying and didn’t know where anyone was,” Johnny shared, “she’s really friendly. I think we could all be friends.”

John couldn’t help but chuckle a little as he watched (Y/N) stiffle her laugh. “Yeah, Johnny, I, uh…I—” God you look like a babbling fool right now, get ahold on yourself, John-boy, was ringing out in John’s mind.

(Y/N) watched him intently, waiting to hear how he would address the past between them. Would he address the past between them?

“I used to know (Y/N)…we used to be best friends when we was younger,” he finally shared with the children, feeling silly for holding his breath as he waited for their response.

There was a moment’s pause as the three little Shelbys looked at each other. It felt like eternity to the two adults, who looked as if they wanted to say so much to each other. Soon smiles formed on the children’s faces.

“That’s great that you’re already friends with her, daddy!” Katie exclaimed, beaming up at John.

“When can she come over?” Jane eagerly asked, her question making (Y/N) laugh as her heart bursted with love.

“That’ll be up to her,” John answered, laughing at his childrens innocent questions, the heat still creeping up his neck.

“Your father and I will have to talk about it,” (Y/N) added her own response, a sweet smile present on her features. She then looked at John, her expression telling him that they’d have to find each other later to catch up.

“Please talk about it later, daddy!” Johnny exclaimed, a pleading look present on his face.

“I will, Johnny, I will,” he assured the boy, nodding both to him and to (Y/N), silently accepting her invitation.

(Y/N) was resting against one of the balconies on the side terrace of the manor later that evening when she heard footsteps approaching her. She didn’t bother to turn and look; having a good idea of who could be coming.

“You followed through with the invitation,” she commented as John came to a rest beside her.

“Always do, angel,” John responded, his usage of her old nickname making her heart flutter.

It was one that he frequently used when they were younger…she was always doing the right thing; always acting like an angel. John loved to call her it in a teasing manner and though she’d wrinkle her nose up when he used it, she secretly loved it. Tonight, however, he used it in a sincere manner, and it just about made (Y/N) weak at the knees.

“You don’t know how surprised I was when I saw you with me kids,” John admitted then, looking out at the grounds his brother owned.

“The surprise was pretty clear on your face, John,” (Y/N) responded, giggling as his eyes shot to match hers; wide in surprise.

“Never was good at hiding stuff from you,” he said in a sheepish tone, shaking his head. “How’d you find out about this?” he asked then.

“Ada found out I was back in town. She invited me,” she answered. John made a mental note to thank his sister later. “It was nice meeting your kids,” she said with a smile.

“They’ll probably talk about you for days,” he said with a laugh, looking away from her for a moment. “Only good things I’ve left,” he mused, his tone sounded solemn.

Silence fell between them as (Y/N) chewed on her bottom lip, wondering if she should offer her condolences or not. She didn’t know if the wounds were still fresh, or when it had even happened. “I’m sorry about Martha, John,” she finally said.

“I am, too,” he responded, looking down at his feet as he took a deep breath, “feel bad for those kids most of all. They didn’t really even get to know her.”

“That must’ve been tough,” (Y/N) mused.

“It was…” John agreed, “it has been,” he then corrected.

“I’m home now, so I’m…”

“You’re home?” John cut into her statement, his eyes widening as they found hers again.

“I am,” she affirmed, smiling softly before continuing, “I’d be happy to help you with your kids if you need at all.”

John smiled as he heard what she said. He couldn’t lie, he was suprised by how gracious she was being. There were a thousand words he wanted to say, but all he was able to get out was: “thank you, (Y/N).”

For her, it was enough.

Silence fell between them once again as (Y/N) wrestled with yet another thought; one that she’d been wanting to say since he joined her outside. After a few moments, she finally took the leap and said it.

“You know, I always thought we’d end up together…I always thought that it’d be us,” she made sure to train her eyes on the darkened landscape as she spoke. She couldn’t handle seeing John’s expression as it changed.

“I…” John hesitated.

“That wasn’t me trying to insert myself into anything. I’m sorry if it sounded that way,” she scrambled to cover up, not even thinking of how he could have taken her admission. “I just…I wanted that to be known. I spent too long dancing around it without saying what I felt,” she took a deep breath, debating on whether to add anything more. There was one more thing she was burning to say, “I had-have a lot of love for you, John.”

It took a few moments for him to digest what she had said. Never did he think that she’d be admitting these feelings to him. He always thought that he’d have to keep his boxed away for the rest of his life. But now she’d put hers out in the open, it would be silly of him to withhold his.

“Hey,” he started, wanting to get her to look at him before he shared his confession. His one word statement succeeded in getting her eyes to match his. “I’ve always loved you, (Y/N),” he admitted, his voice holding a sincereness he hadn’t used in a while.

“You’re being serious?” she asked, the corners of her lips twitching as she wanted to smile so big right now.

“So serious,” he whispered, smiling as he spoke.

“I…” she paused to let out a laugh, feeling so silly for what she was about to admit to him, “I really wanna kiss you right now, John Shelby.”

“Then kiss me, (Y/N),” he wasted no time in agreeing to what she was suggesting, slowly moving to rest his hands on her waist. He was gentle in his touch, silently letting her know that she could break away if she wanted. She didn’t.

(Y/N) reached to take hold of his jacket’s lapels before leaning in slightly. John got the message, meeting her halfway so that their lips could—finally— meet. The — what felt like — lifetime’s wait for this moment was most certainly worth it.

— Three Years Later —

“Katie!” (Y/N) called out, knowing that the eldest child was in the next room over. Her joyful scream was a distinctive one, and the woman was able to hear it amongst at least two others. It didn’t take long before the girl appeared in the archway of the room John and (Y/N) were sitting in.

“Yes?” she asked, trying to catch her breath. It was obvious that she’d been playing.

“I need you and your siblings to try and keep your voices down, ok?” (Y/N) kindly asked.

“Why’s that, mum?” the young girl inquired.

(Y/N) froze before she could give her answer, her mouth agape. Katie had just called her ‘mum’.

Thankfully John was able to step in and continue the conversation—because it had became obvious to him that (Y/N) couldn’t. “Because mum’s just gotten Ella to sleep. We don’t want her to wake again,” he explained, motioning to the baby that was sleeping on (Y/N)’s chest.

“Ok, dad,” Katie conceded without a fight. Both John and (Y/N) gave a soft thanks and watched as she went to leave. She’d only moved from the arch for a second before returning to say one last thing, “you should know that it’s really Max who was making all of the noise.”

Her statement made both adults laugh. “Go on,” John waved her off. The girl gave one more toothy smile before running off to her siblings.

“Did she…?” (Y/N) finally got out, surprise laced into her words.

“She did,” John grinned as he looked at his wife, “mum.”

It may have seemed like nothing special to someone looking on, but to (Y/N), what just happened was monumental. This was the first time Katie Shelby had called her mum.

(Y/N) and John hardly spent a moment separated since the night they rekindled their friendship…which quickly turned into a relationship…which quickly turned into them getting married and having a child together.

With their dear little Eloise being born just five months ago, both felt that their family was now perfect. But even though (Y/N) took on the role of mother to John’s four children in every sense of the term, she never forced the kids to address her by the name. Martha was their mum, and not even her being gone could change that.

One by one, though, the kids began calling her mum. Katie was the last to hold out. The eldest girl would always address her as ‘(Y/N)’, and (Y/N) was perfectly fine with that. Which is why when the girl used the ‘m-word’ just now, she froze in her tracks. She couldn’t help but blush as she looked at John, who was grinning like a fool.

“She called me mum,” she whispered again, more to herself than anything.

“She did,” John repeated, his voice soft as he smiled at his wife.

If it’s meant to be, it’ll be is the phrase that always gets thrown around. Luckily — thankfully — for John and (Y/N), it was meant to be.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing

@evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy

@strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut

@zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx

@red-riding-wood @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra

@kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @justrainandcoffee

@peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @ce1iat @wildheartsalwaysburn @dragons-are-my-favorite

@jessimay89 @slaymybreathaway @mysticalfuncollectorus @sleepyycatt @novashelby

[balkanradfem]

So I've been looking to read some books about living in nature, written by women, to get an idea of how it goes in practice, and the first book I found was 'The Great Alone' by Hannah Kirstin. It was about a family who decided to move to Alaska and live self-sufficiently, and it was written from the point of view of the daughter, Leni. I did not realize right away that this was a piece of fiction! However I do want to tell you about this book because something very specific happened in it that made me have.. ideas.

Right on the first page, it was spelled out to me clearly that this is a story about domestic violence. The father was drinking, had ptsd from war, sometimes 'blew up', and I was like, oh, I know what that is. Okay, let's see what happens then.

The father decided to move them all to Alaska because a buddy who died in the war left him a cabin there, and he wasn't earning money to pay rent, so Alaska it is. He talked his wife into it, promising that he will 'be better over there', and I'm like yeah sure you will.

I have to say, at the beginning this book was just heavily enabling me. They went over to Alaska and everyone was saying 'you need to prepare for winter immediately', even though it was spring, and they were bewildered. People were coming to help them to build a garden and homesteading infrastructure. And I'm looking at that like hell yeah I'm already 100% introduced to this, I am prepairing my garden from January, as soon as spring hits I am looking for food to can, dry, cure, I'm filling my stash from the moment cherries arrive. I'm certified to live in nature. (I'm not, I'm just entertaining myself with this fiction).

Alaskan winter is long and dangerous, and somehow these folks were already at the end of their food stash by the end of January, which is so early. They were in trouble, had no money, it was cold, Alaskan winter also brings 18 hours of darkness a day, so everyone was bummed and anxious. As you can imagine, the father found himself some alt-right conspiracy theorists to hang out there and drink with, every day they were talking about the government or minorities 'coming for their land' and prepairing to shoot people at the moment's notice, so it's no wonder he became more violent, aggressive and dangerous to his wife and child. He would end up beating his wife, and she would forgive him, and the daughter watching all this felt insane and desperate to save her mother. But there was no help, no police, nobody could even reach them in the deep winter, they had no food, they relied on him to catch something in the forest.

This is where the story got interesting. 

He breaks her nose, and the daughter decides that's enough, takes her mother into the car, and they escape. They crash. Daughter seeks help. They end up in a hospital. Father finds them and cries and promises to never do it again. Mother forgives him, seemingly out of fear that he's going to start killing people if she leaves him. Alaskan folk now know that she is being abused, because of her bruises and broken nose. And something unexpected happens.

One of the first Alaskan characters introduced in the story is Large Marge, a big woman owning a shop where she trades food and other survival goods. She is strong, resourceful, down to earth, incredible, helpful in every possible way. She is our star. Because once the word is out about the abuse, and the domestic violence family is back in the cabin, she comes over. She tells them all to sit the hell down, like she's a parent sorting out her unruly children. She then tells this story:

'I used to be a lawyer. Big city prosecutor. High heels and designer suits. I loved it. And I loved my sister, who married the man of her dreams. Only he turned out to have a few problems. A few quirks. Turned out he drank too much and liked to use my baby sis as a punching bag. I tried everything to get her to leave him, but she refused. Maybe she was scared, maybe she loved him, maybe she was as sick and broken as he was. I know that when I called the police it was worse for her and she begged me not to do it again. I backed off. Biggest mistake of my life. He went after her with a hammer. We had to have a closet-casket funeral. He claimed he'd taken the hammer from her to protect himself. The law isn't kind to battered women. He's still out there. Free. I came up here to get away from all that.“ She looked at the abuser. ''And here you are.''

The tension was insane. Everyone tried to get a word in, but she shut then down, and then she looked at the abuser again. ''We've talked about your situation here, we have a few solutions, but really, our favourite one is where we take you out and kill you.''

And I am reading this like oh my god. That's the freaking solution. It doesn't need to be that complicated. We just need someone who is 100% done with this shit who takes him out and shoots him. Problem solved. You hit your wife? Out and shot. Bye loser. Nobody losing sleep over you anymore.

I would love to tell you that she did take him out and shoot him, of how would I love to tell you that. I prayed it would happen as soon as the option was presented to me. However she told him he is either being taken out and shot, or he is leaving, getting a job and then providing money for his wife and daughter, and not returning until the spring comes again, which, he agreed to, since the alternative was to be taken out and shot. But I was still saying we should shoot him. She then decided to stay with the mother and daughter to keep them safe and fed during the winter. Like the hero she fucking is.

So, I haven't read this entire book yet, this is the middle of it, I have to go back and read the other half in order to know what happened next, but, I love this, I love the author, I love the representation of domestic violence and cycle of abuse, and how it is to be a female child in this situation, I love Large Marge, I love the resolution she provides, we need her, someone please, put her in reality. I want to be her, I want to barge into people's home and make death threats to abusers. To randomly stumble on a book like this is incredible to me. Thank you women for writing books. I love you all.

[megalony]

I'm Scared

This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, based on an anon request, I really had fun with this one and I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: All Hell breaks loose when, while on a call, a bomb blows up the fire truck and Eddie's wife ends up becoming trapped beneath it. And the team have to fight to get her out.

(I'm hoping to make a second part for this)

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A shiver rattled down (Y/n)'s spine and sent goosebumps rising up on her skin when she heard the shower door open. For a brief moment, her arms bound around her chest but when she whipped around to look behind her, she sighed.

It wasn't just anyone on the team wandering in or opening the door by mistake. It wasn't someone trying to sneak a glance at her undressed and trying to clean up ready for their next call out.

It was her husband.

"What are you doing?" (Y/n) took a step closer to the wall and pressed her lips together tightly to smother any noise she might make when Eddie walked in to join her. She was relieved when he shut the door so the draft finally stopped and the water created another aroma of steam to circle around them.

She let her hands drop from around her chest and her eyes closed automatically when his arms circled around her waist.

"Joining you." Eddie tucked his face into (Y/n)'s neck and pressed his lips against her wet, burning skin. He felt the water drip down and flatten his hair and when it traced down the bridge of his nose and fell onto (Y/n)'s shoulder, he felt her shiver against him.

He tightened his arms and pushed forward when (Y/n) groaned as if she might just have the willpower to fight him off and tell him to get out. He knew she wouldn't. He grinned into her neck when she seemed to melt against him instead of push him away.

They were at work. They were on shift.

This happened to be the first time (Y/n) had found Eddie wandering in to take a shower with her while they were at work. He had never been this sneaky before. Usually they were affectionate when their shifts lined up and they worked together, but this was different. This was breaking the rules and testing to see if they got caught or not. (Y/n) didn't want to get caught out.

Bobby wouldn't go easy on them if he found out they were doing this. Buck would flip out. Hen would never let them live this down and Chimney would probably die of embarrassment for them.

(Y/n) opened her eyes and looked down when she felt Eddie's hands curve round from her hips to grab and squeeze at her waist. His thumb brushed up and down her skin against the water cascading down around them and (Y/n) took a sharp breath when he suddenly bit down on her neck like a vampire.

"You shouldn't be in here… go next door." (Y/n) motioned her hand to the right to signal any other cubicle. There were four shower blocks in here, Eddie needed to go into one of them and get washed.

If they were gone for a while at the same time, people were going to notice they were missing and if anyone came in here and found them, they would get disciplined. It wasn't within the rules to take a shower together or cop off while they were still on shift.

"You want me to be lonely?"

"Eddie…" (Y/n) tilted her head back when Eddie moved his lips down and started to bite another mark onto her skin. If it wasn't bad enough that he was taking the risk to be in here, he was also marking her up and if people noticed, they would know what they'd done. "You want us to get reprimanded?" She countered, but her words did very little to persuade him otherwise.

She took her time turning around in his arms and her hands traced down to his chest to try and nudge him backwards. If he was going to do this, she would get out with him. (Y/n) would cut her shower short and get out if it stopped Eddie from becoming insatiable like this.

"No one knows you came for a shower. Just let me have five minutes with you, amor. Please? No fun and games, I swear." Eddie dug his fingertips into her hips and pushed her back until her back hit the tiles and she gasped.

They were like ice cubes sticking to her burning skin and the mix of hot and cold made her shake until Eddie tilted his head down so their foreheads were pressed together.

He just wanted five minutes alone with his wife. They had pulled a double shift and they were still here at the station. Eddie wanted a few minutes alone with his wife before they had to go back on shift and be somewhat professional. He wasn't asking to risk getting caught or risk having sex in the shower and get carried away. He just wanted to be as close as he could to (Y/n) for a little while. Just a few minutes.

She liked the way the water dripped down from his pale pink lips and jumped free from his chin. Each droplet made (Y/n)'s chest tighten while she reached her hands up to cup the back of his neck.

"Five minutes." She warned, keeping her fingertips pressed against his skin as she pulled him down to her level and connected his lips onto hers.

She sucked his lower lip between her teeth and gave a little bite until Eddie growled and pulled her chest up against his.

He cocooned both arms around her waist and splayed his hands out on her back, gliding his fingertips up and down her skin while his temple pressed into hers. He kept her pressed back against the wall and closed his eyes, leaning his chest down onto hers so they were as close as they could possibly get.

This was all Eddie wanted. He just wanted to hold her. He could restrain himself and stop from dragging this moment out into an hour-long shower where people really would notice they'd gone missing. Eddie had self-control and he could handle just holding her and not taking it any further.

When (Y/n) moved her hand up higher and began dragging her fingers through his wet hair, she felt him groan into her lips and his hands pressed down firmer into her back. Her nails scratched against his scalp and she gave a sharp tug on his roots before Eddie disconnected their lips and moved back down to attach to her neck.

He kept his face tucked into the crook of her neck, eyes still closed and lips floating across her skin with a more gentle touch this time. He didn't bite down or attempt to leave anymore marks, he just glided his lips up and down her neck until (Y/n) was reduced to a shivering mess.

He worked his way back up to her face and connected their lips but they both froze when they heard the shower room door open.

"Eddie…" She murmured as quietly as she could against his lips but he shook his head and pressed his lips back to hers as if to make sure she stayed silent.

He kept their noses touching and their eyes locked as he leaned down and moved slowly. His hands wormed their way down her back so one hand was in between her hips and the other gripped the underside of her thigh. (Y/n) could feel his fingertips pinching into her skin so he had a good grip and she pressed her lips together when he slowly hoisted her up.

Her shoulders stayed pressed against the tiles and Eddie pulled her leg until she took the hint and wrapped both legs around his hips so she was sitting on his torso. At least this way, if whoever came in happened to look down at their cubicle, they would only see one pair of legs and not two.

"Eddie?"

It was Buck. They both heard his footsteps pause and it sounded like he stopped in the doorway to the showers. He wouldn't want to come marching in and have a conversation when Eddie was in the shower.

"Yeah?"

"Bell's gone; we got a call."

Damn. He had barely gotten in the shower and he was already going to have to scramble out and hurry to get dressed again. At least (Y/n) had had a bit longer in here before the bell went. They had only been back at the station from their last call for about half an hour, if that.

"Alright, I'm coming."

As soon as the shower door slammed closed, Eddie slumped his head back down onto (Y/n)'s shoulder and sighed. He pulled her chest tighter against his and gave her thigh a squeeze. They would have to get out now.

"That's our cue." (Y/n) murmured softly into Eddie's hair and she untangled her fingers at the back of his neck. Waiting for him to ease her down to her feet again so they could go get ready to roll out again.

She felt his hand tighten around her thigh and he slowly pulled back and allowed (Y/n) to drop back down to her feet so he wasn't holding her on his hips anymore.

"Promise me we can pick this back up when we get home." He murmured into her neck as (Y/n) turned the shower off and a soft grin spread across her features.

(Y/n) tilted her head back and pressed a kiss against Eddie's cheek when she felt his hands on her hips as he walked up behind her. She felt him squeeze her hips and peck her temple before he weaved around her and made his way over to the ambulance.

Hen and Chimney were the main medics, but Eddie had taken up a helping hand as a medic during most of the shift and that earned him a spot in the ambulance alongside Hen today.

His eyes flashed behind him and looked over at his wife, casting a smile in her direction before he climbed into the passenger seat of the ambulance.

(Y/n) watched him climb in while she whipped the helmet from her head and took off her overcoat, stuffing them into the compartment alongside Buck. Her eyes cast down to the name at the bottom of her overcoat and it made her smile. The jacket was newer than everyone else's because when they got married, (Y/n) got to get a new jacket with her name on the back, and a new sticker on her helmet that said Diaz too.

She moved to the side as Buck and Chimney climbed in the back of the truck which left (Y/n) to ride shotgun with Thompson who was making up their shift today while Bobby was off.

Her head tilted to lean against the window, looking out at the passing scenery as they began their journey back to the station, following the ambulance. She loved how the buildings looked different at night. Illuminated with bright lights and golden orange glows of indoor lamps and the headlights of flashing cars passing in the other direction.

(Y/n) closed her eyes for a few moments and let the memory of this afternoon with Eddie flash across her mind. She couldn't wait for their shifts to finish so they could go home.

She crossed her legs and started to tap her foot against the dashboard in front of her while the truck headed down the street.

"Not long now and we get released at midnight." Buck's words made (Y/n) smile and she nodded when she looked down at the radio and noticed the time. Three more hours and she and Eddie could go home and spend three days off together with Chris. She was on countdown.

"Fuck!"

(Y/n) wasn't sure who shouted. She barely turned her head to the left before blinding headlights was all she could see and an awful bang made her eardrums burst and pop.

The truck had never moved with such power and vigor before. (Y/n) had never known the wheels of the truck to leave the floor. A deep rumbling vibrated from the very end of the truck right beneath it to the front engine and the magnitude of the explosion sent the rear flying up into the air.

Both (Y/n)'s hands thrashed to try and grab the dashboard, needing something to steady herself and push herself down in her seat, but there was nothing to hold on to.

A violent scream left her lips, mingling in with the sound of her team all crying out in confusion and blaring panic. Her body propelled forward as the truck seemed to lift in the air before changing positions. It fell onto it's side like a beast that had been shot down in motion. The momentum kept them scraping across the road at full pelt and sent the team tumbling inside the truck.

(Y/n)'s arms spread out like wings in front of her, but she stopped breathing when her body pummelled to the right and was thrust out the open window as if an invisible force her shoved her. The moment her body collided with the floor, every noise turned to white static in her ears and her brain switched off.

"Oh God!" Hen slammed on the breaks, her eyes glued to the wing mirror on her left that showed sparks flying from the underside of the truck that was now skidding across the road on its side. She watched with utter terror crawling through her body as it came to a stop in the middle of the intersection. Passing cars and people all abruptly stopping, no one knowing what to do.

When she looked to the side, her lips curved into a wobbling frown as she watched the anguish flood Eddie's face. His hands were gripping the dashboard and the handle above the door like it was them who had been skidding across the floor. But then it dawned on her.

(Y/n).

It wasn't just their team in that truck; Eddie's wife was in there too.

"Was- was that…"

"A bomb. Call for backup now!" Eddie clambered down from the ambulance before Hen had time to respond or tell him to wait. He had to find (Y/n).

His boots hit the floor with vigor and he veered to the back of the ambulance, flinging the doors open carelessly so he could find a medic bag.

Once one was in hand, he set off into a pelting run, skidding across the concrete to try and get close to the truck that he had never seen laid on its side like that before. He was glad it wasn't on fire. If the engine caught fire then it would be extremely hard to get anyone out safely and timely before the whole thing went up in flames.

Eddie's heart hammered away in his chest and felt like it was simultaneously climbing up into his throat when he pelted towards the truck.

Everyone had been tossed out. He could see their team members scattered about the road like they had been picked up and strewn about carelessly. His eyes roamed across them all, trying to decipher who was who so he could find (Y/n).

He spotted Buck first. His friend was coughing and spluttering, doing his best to roll over onto his front so he could try and push himself up onto his knees. He saw Chimney leaning against the back of the truck to get himself to his feet, and he saw Thompson scrambling away from the driver's seat through the broken windshield to get out.

His eyes found his wife last.

There she was. Laid on her front, one cheek meshed into the floor, both arms stretched out in front of her. Legs sprawled out behind her in a way that made Eddie sure she had been tossed out the window during the crash.

"(Y/n)!" Her name fell from his lips what felt like fifty times as he stormed over towards her.

She wasn't moving. at least, Eddie thought she wasn't moving. The closer he got, the more worried he started to feel when he realised she wasn't trying to crawl away, but once he was within range, he heard her.

She was sobbing.

He crashed down to his knees, feeling the concrete digging into his knees through his trousers as he dumped the medic bag beside him in favour of reaching out for his wife. Each breath Eddie took started to run away without him until his chest was heaving and rapidly rising and falling while he gasped and choked for air.

His eyes scanned her frame, checking for injuries, but the ones he found made his heart sever and drop down to the pit of his stomach.

Her leg was pinned. She had the entire weight of the fire truck crushing her right leg, pinning it to the floor. The corner of the truck near the windscreen and the passenger door was jammed down into her leg. Now Eddie could see why she hadn't moved; she wasn't able to get away.

A jolt ran through Eddie when he suddenly felt (Y/n)'s hands clamping down on his thighs, digging in so much that he was sure she was imbedding her nails into his skin. Not that it mattered at all.

Both her hands started to shake from how badly she clenched her fingers into Eddie's thighs as he knelt in front of her.

Tears streamed down her face and horrid panting breaths left (Y/n)'s lips as she tried to look up at him through floodwaves. She sniffed and gasped, blinking her bleary eyes to try and look up at him, but she could barely move her head. Her right cheek was pressed down into the floor and it felt like she had melted into the concrete.

She went to say his name, but all that came out was a gut-wrenching sob that seemed to morph into a scream at the end.

"It's okay, shh I've got you."

The feeling of Eddie's hand shakily brushing across her cheek and down to her neck made (Y/n) feel momentairely blinded. And she tried to melt into the touch to see if it would make her feel any better. She realised his fingers were pressing into her neck so he could check her pulse, but she leaned into the touch anyway.

When both Eddie's hands moved to her face and carefully helped her lift her head from the road, (Y/n) felt better. She felt relieved that her face wasn't glued to the floor like she imagined it would be. It was good to have her burning cheek away from the floor that had cut into her face.

Eddie managed to mask the heartache from his expression when he looked down at his wife. There was a cut to her temple and a searing graze on the right side of her face, down her cheek to her chin from where she had scraped the floor. Her hair was coming loose and fanning around her face and she was trembling horribly.

Both arms were shuddering against his lap where she was trying to cling to him and prevent him from leaving; as if he would leave her for a moment.

"E-Eddie, p… please," The words wouldn't form properly, but (Y/n) tried to pull on his thighs and use him as a boulder to pull herself away from the truck. She needed to get away from the engine. They didn't know what caused the explosion or if it would happen again.

"No! No, baby stay still for me."

"Why?" (Y/n) leaned her cheek into his hand and closed her eyes when the shaking got worse. "Hurts, e-everything hurts."

A choked moan left her lips that was followed by a scream when an awful shockwave rattled through her. It felt like her legs had been snapped in half. Her back was aching and her abdomen was pulsing from where she had landed roughly on the floor. And she was sure she could feel glass imbedded into various areas of her skin.

She needed to move and get away. She had to get help.

"You stay right there for me, baby okay? I need to get you prepped before we move you." When Eddie looked over his shoulder, he noticed Chimney was up and on the radio trying to ask for back up. While Hen was stood to one side with Buck and a few other civilians, trying to keep someone at bay from getting any closer.

He locked eyes with Chimney and tried to listen to who he was talking to. "I need back up now, Chim. We have to move this truck." The venom dripping from Eddie's voice made Chimney shudder and take a step back, but he nodded.

Another round of "Please," choked past (Y/n)'s lips but when her pleas fell on deaf ears, she tried to use Eddie as a post and drag herself closer to him.

Crippling agony shot through her legs like a fire consuming her whole. Her nerves ignited and agony sparked within them all the way up to the base of her skull. Tremors rattled through her as she sobbed and tried to crane her neck to see where the pain was coming from.

"Baby-" Eddie cringed and momentairely closed his eyes when (Y/n)'s shrill scream hit his ears.

He felt her trembling get worse and her face smashed into his thighs like she had suddenly fainted, but he could still feel her screaming into his thighs.

Her leg was pinned down. Her trouser leg had been shredded. There was a river of blood beneath her legs that she could tell now felt damp and sticky. The back of her calve was split open like someone had hacked away at her with an axe. Muscle was exposed. The metal corner of the truck was imbedded into her leg like an extension of herself.

Now she knew why Eddie hadn't dragged or tried to carry her away. He couldn't move her. Nobody could.

"(Y/n)… mi amor, look at me." Eddie's hands went back to cupping her face and he brushed his thumbs beneath her eyes, wiping away her tears while his own eyes began to silently water. "We're gonna get this off of you, okay? Breathe with me, it's gonna be okay. I swear."

Eddie pressed his lips against her temple and took a few slow breaths to try and get (Y/n) to copy him. Panicking wasn't going to do her any good. He and the team would get her out of this mess, they would look after her and get her to the hospital. Eddie wasn't leaving until this truck was moved and his wife was on a stretcher ready to be transported out of here.

He pressed his chest into his thighs, pinning (Y/n)'s hands between them as he tried to calm them both down. Breathing against her temple while a few tears soaked into her skin.

"Alright, let's get you some morphine, hm?"

(Y/n) couldn't stop herself from breaking out in shakes and as soon as Eddie let go of her face, she smothered her head in his thighs. Her tears soaked into his trousers and she panted so much it felt like she wasn't breathing at all. She dragged her hands up from his thighs to clutch at his hips, not that he seemed to mind, and she clung to him wile she felt him rolling up her sleeve.

The injection in her elbow barely felt like a scratch and (Y/n) prayed it would work quickly. She couldn't take this agony for much longer. She had never felt so broken in all her life.

For a moment, Eddie rummaged around in the medic bag until he found the neck brace at the bottom. He carefully slid his hands beneath (Y/n)'s chin, lifting her head from his thighs enough to clip the blue and white plastic around her neck. She undoubtedly had some form of whiplash and he had no idea what spinal injuries she might have obtained from the crash.

He ran his fingertips along her temple and tried to smile down at her before he looked up when Hen hurried towards them.

"Bobby's here, he's with the police… and the bomber." She saw the fire that raged in Eddie's eyes and he whipped his head around to try and locate whoever was responsible for this.

If (Y/n) wasn't in such crippling agony and torment, Eddie would have taken off and unleashed Hell on the idiot who had done this.

"We're all here to look after you, (Y/n)." Hen's voice was soothing as she knelt down on (Y/n)'s other side with her own medic bag beside her. "Let's take a look. Can you wiggle your feet for me?"

(Y/n) pressed her forehead down into Eddie's thighs, feeling irritable with the neck brace on. She didn't want it. She didn't need it. All (Y/n) wanted was for them to move her and make the agony subside. She wanted help. She didn't want to be laid strewn on the floor like this. She was a firefighter, she was supposed to ride in the truck, not be pinned down to the road by it.

Her lips scrunched up and she winced as she flexed both feet in different directions so her boots scuffed the glass and concrete.

"That's good." Hen briefly squeezed (Y/n)'s arm before she looked across at Eddie. "Let's get her on a drip, keep her veins open."

She found a saline bag and handed the plastic tube across to Eddie so he could do the honours. They needed to get fluids into (Y/n)'s body so she didn't dehydrate and it would keep her veins open and give her body the sodium and minerals it needed. They couldn't have her developing crush syndrome.

"Okay." Eddie swiped his sleeve against his eyes and beneath his nose and he shook his head to try and clear his mind and gather his senses. He worked out in the field when he was in the army. He had been in dangerous situations and kept his calm.

He had dragged his team to safety with a gunshot wound and had hardly been phased by any of it. But his family hadn't been involved in the army. His wife hadn't been deadly injured. Her life wasn't the one at risk.

The shaking finally subsided in Eddie's hands and he cleaned the back of (Y/n)'s right hand, trying to squeeze tight to stop her from shaking too so he could insert the needle into her vein. Once it was in, he taped the cannula in place and raised her hand so he could kiss her knuckles.

"Baby, I need to put a turniquet on your leg, stay very still for me, okay?"

He had to strap her leg and cut off her circulation so she didn't bleed out on the road. And it would stop her muscles from releasing toxins into her blood that would cause crush syndrome.

(Y/n) tried to say 'I'm not going anywhere' but all that came out was a mewling cry when Eddie shuffled around so he was no longer knelt in front of her.

She was grateful to Hen for taking her left hand and allowing her to squeeze as tightly as she needed to keep calm. (Y/n) curled her right arm close to her face so she could mesh her mouth and nose against her arm, being mindful of the cannula in the back of her hand.

She felt Eddie's hands groping up her leg, avoiding the area where the truck was rammed down into her skin. He felt around her knee and halfway up her thigh before he slipped the dark blue elastic beneath her leg. The tiniest jolt where Eddie lifted her thigh from the road made (Y/n) wail and she tried to sink her teeth down into her arm to stop herself from making such a scene.

She could hear Eddie hushing her, but even his voice was wavering and broken. The moment he pulled the elastic and popped the pin in place, (Y/n) let out a guttural scream. It felt like teeth sinking into her flesh and her nerves ignited once again like they were the fuse to dynamite, about to explode. But the notion that in a minute or two, the pain would subside, made (Y/n) feel a little lighter.

"There we go, all done." Eddie kissed the back of her head and shuffled round so he was kneeling back down in front of her. So (Y/n) could dig her hands back into his thighs and press her face into his knees like she was trying to merge them into one being.

If Eddie could suffer through the pain for her, if he could trade places with her, he would in a heartbeat. Eddie would take any amount of suffering if it would mean (Y/n) didn't have to go through this.

"Eddie, Eddie how is she?" The sound of Bobby's panicked voice caught all their attention.

They looked up to find bobby, Buck and Chimney all crowding round to see what they could do to help. It made Eddie sure that the situation with the bomber had been taken care of, although he wasn't sure that really made him happy. He wanted to see who it was. He wanted to look them in the eye and ram his fist into their face and pin them beneath the truck and see how they liked having their limb ripped apart like this. Like his wife.

He wanted to make whoever was responsible suffer for what they had put his wife through, but he couldn't leave (Y/n) in order to do that. He couldn't leave her side for a moment, not when she was in absolute agony like this.

"We have to get it off her, I can't do anything until she's free." Eddie had given her morphine and tried to assess her leg, but there was nothing he could do until she was freed from this mess.

"Then let's get it up. Come on." Bobby's voice held authority and a sternness that hid the panic bubbling up inside of him. One of his own was hurt, one of his team who were his extended family. He would do anything he could to help her.

Bobby moved to the corner of the truck and Chimney, Buck and Hen all got the message of what he was trying to do. They waved at the other fire team that had arrived and everyone moved to hold onto the ladder fixed to the top of the truck. The top that was now aiming towards them with the whole vehicle being on its side.

With his back to the truck, hands grappling with the ladder and his knees bent, Bobby looked down at Eddie to give them the signal.

Eddie didn't like this. He knew what he was going to have to do, and he knew how much this was going to hurt his wife.

"Baby, this isn't gonna be nice, but I'll move you as fast as I can, okay?" He was going to have to drag (Y/n) as soon as the truck was lifted from her leg. That was going to cause her mass agony, but they didn't have any other choice. If they wanted (Y/n) free from the truck, they had to move fast.

"I'm scared."

Tears trickled down the bridge of her nose and she closed her eyes when Eddie cupped her cheek and pressed his wet lips against her temple.

"You don't have to be scared, just hold onto me."

He carefully shuffled back a few paces and changed position so his knees and his abdomen were pressed down against the floor, mimicking (Y/n)'s position. He braced the toes of his boots against the floor like he was preparing for a sprint, and his hands held onto (Y/n)'s wrists, being mindful of the cannula in the back of her hand.

When he nodded up at Bobby, his eyes adverted back down to (Y/n) and he tried to nod at her before she closed her eyes. Her chin tucked down against the ground, despite the neck brace restricting her movements and she tried not to hold herself tense and let herself go floppy so he could move her. So they could all help move her.

Each breath she took made her heart pound against her chest until all (Y/n) could hear was the rapid thumping beat and the sound of Eddie's stern breaths which fanned against her cheek.

"Alright, let's move it!"

Bobby's voice boomed through the air and he tried to puut as much effort into his back and arms as possible. His weight pushed down and his upper body rose up. It didn't matter to Bobby that he had an old back injury that could flare up from time to time. All he cared about was getting (Y/n) out of here. The bomber set that bomb in the truck specifically to hurt him; he didn't want (Y/n) suffering any more because of him.

Everyone put as much weight as they could onto the truck, trying in vain to push and lift and shift the heaping ton of metal so it would rise.

Eddie's eyes moved past his wife and zoomed in on the truck, specifically where the corner was imbedded down into his wife's leg. Once it started to lift, Eddie hunkered down and pulled.

The most petrifying scream he had ever heard tore past (Y/n)'s lips in a blaze of fury. Tears soaked her face, spit dribbled past her lips and her inner lips turned blue as she wailed and shrieked.

It felt like they were tearing her apart. Her leg wasn't moving but the rest of her was. She was going to come apart like a rag doll.

"It's not enough! It has to be higher!" Eddie shook his head and sank his teeth into his lower lip.

Just a bit higher. Just a tiny bit more and he could drag his wife free and get her to safety in the ambulance. A little more give and he could have (Y/n) in his arms again and take her to hospital. They had to move fast, this was causing her mass agony and Eddie couldn't bear to witness this for much longer. It was tearing him apart.

"Again!"

(Y/n) kept her eyes snapped closed and scratched her nails into Eddie's wrists. She did her best to focus on the feeling of his thumbs smoothing across her wrists over her pulse, but even the feeling of the truck being lifted from her leg had (Y/n) sobbing before she had been moved.

She felt the strength in Eddie's grasp as he tried to move her, but he couldn't. He tugged her maybe half a centimetre before he stopped and shook his head. The truck wasn't high enough. They were going to tear a hole from her thigh down to her ankle if they dragged her without the truck completely off her.

"It's not enough."

"The jack won't hold up the truck, not even the corner of it." Buck shook his head while panic flushed his face.

The jack hammer they used for cars wouldn't be strong enough to lift up the truck, it wouldn't hold up this corner for a second. And it would take a lot of them to even try and push it down enough to lift the truck up. They had to think of something else.

"Then we think of something else. There's gotta be something nearby that we can use for leverage."

Everyone relaxed, but no one stepped far away from the truck just in case they wanted another go at pushing and heaving it up off of their team member.

Eddie pushed up from his abdomen so he was on his knees again, but he didn't let go of (Y/n)'s hands. He stayed gripping her wrists, running his thumbs up and down her flushed skin while he tried to think of what they could do. But his eyes snapped back down to (Y/n) when she suddenly wailed.

"Cut it off."

Her croaky voice fluctuated and wavered but Eddie heard her, and she broke his heart.

(Y/n) didn't dare look behind her at the mess that was left of her leg, but she could still feel it. The morphine, the turniquet and the IV were doing very little to distract her from the crippling agony she was subdued with. (Y/n) could feel her nerves disintegrating and how her muscles were shredding to pieces. She could feel her good leg trembling and jittering against the floor while the rest of her body dithered.

She felt like she was decaying. Her leg had been mutilated and her body was suffering the consequences.

Maybe cutting her leg off would be easier. It was hard to be rational when she was dosed on pain medication that was doing nothing to control the morphing agony she was in. Rational would be (Y/n) considering the fact that she needed both legs to do the job properly. She didn't want to have a limb amputated or suffer the degrading months of agony she would be in if she had to learn to live and adapt without one.

But right now, it felt simpler if she let them cut it off. They could dose her on whatever drugs were in the ambulance. They could knock her out and hack through her leg and take her to hospital. They could stop this agony and remove her limb that might not be able to be saved anyway.

All this agony, all this time and effort to help her and it could all be in vain. (Y/n) might lose her leg anyway after this.

"No, no baby we don't need to do that." Eddie cupped the back of her head and pressed his lips against her temple when she began to wail again.

No one was cutting her leg off. Eddie wouldn't let anyone contemplate that wild suggestion and it wasn't something they could do. They had to find a different solution to get her free.

She could feel Eddie's lips meshing against her temple but she wasn't sure what he was trying to murmur against her skin. Eddie's voice was drowned out by the constant, heart-wrenching sobs that tumbled past her lips and made her chest ache and burn.

She wanted out. She wanted to be moved. She wanted to either get out or die; this agony had to stop.

"Oh."

None of the team quite knew what to say or what to do when they saw the people tenderly stepping forward. The men and women who put down their bagd and keys, who dropped their hats and rolled up their sleeves and stepped forward, gingerly pointing and aiming towards the truck.

They would help. If more strength and power was what the fire department needed to get one of their own free, then the public would help.

Eddie wasn't sure which member of the team said his name, but he found himself nodding along. He peppered a million kisses against (Y/n)'s temple and brushed away her tears as he went back to laying on his stomach in front of her. Rather than holding her wrists, Eddie shifted his hands to grip her upper arms, clenching tight so he could drag her as fast as possible.

With this many people around to help them, surely they could get (Y/n) free now.

"Here we go, mi amor. Hold tight."

She tried. (Y/n) tried to hold onto Eddie's forearms and she let herself go floppy when she heard Bobby give the command for everyone to push.

All at once, she was on fire. She was burning on hot coals and freezing in the depths of the ocean. Her body was overcome with beads of sweat and hypothermic shivers. The scream emitting from her lips fell upon deaf ears that were overcome with ringing bells and she started to shake and writhe like she was holding onto a live wire.

A mimicking yell tore past Eddie's lips as his watering eyes closed and he pushed back on his knees so he could drag (Y/n) that little bit further. There was no more resistance holding her back. There was nothing gripping her, pinning her flesh to the floor like a skewer. When Eddie yanked on her arms, (Y/n) swiftly skidded across the floor and onto his lap with wailing yelps of torment.

"I've got her! I've got her, let's go!" His hands flopped from her arms and his trembling hands curved around her frame as he meshed his lips against her temple. "Oh amor, you're gonna be okay now, it's all okay."

As soon as Hen crouched down beside them and a gurney was wheeled over, they both set to work.

(Y/n) kept her eyes closed and did her best to wave her hands out when she felt people crowding around her. She wasn't sure who or what she was grabbing at, she just wanted to hold onto something. Someone's hand was held out in front of her and she clenched down on it, not sure who it was but she knew it wasn't Eddie.

Her husband's hands were on her shoulders while someone else helped to carefully turn her over onto her back so they could slide the back board beneath her.

The agony sparking down her leg once she was transferred onto the gurney was unimaginable, but (Y/n) didn't have the effort to scream anymore. All she could do was shed streams of tears and whimper at every jolt.

She could hear Eddie ordering people out the way and the gurney felt unsteady with how fast it was moving, weaving and shaking her from side to side to get her to the ambulance.

When (Y/n) flopped her hand behind her and managed to grab Eddie's bicep, she felt him take her hand and raise her knuckles to his lips.

"I'm still here." He clicked the brakes with his heel and nodded at Hen and they both carefully shimmied the gurney up into the back of the ambulance.

Once they were inside, Hen hung up the saline bag so it was out the way and she found the monitoring clip and attached it to (Y/n)'s finger to keep track of her pulse and oxygen intake. They felt the ambulance shake when the back doors were slammed shut and Chimney climbed in the driver's seat.

"Cap and Buck are following behind us."

Eddie figured that meant they were getting a police escort because their other mode of transport was unmoving from the middle of the road after nearly killing his wife.

(Y/n) tugged and squeezed Eddie's hand as she felt her breaths begin to deepen, but that wasn't the problem. It was the way her body was suddenly jittering on the gurney, shaking back and forth to the point she felt like she was going to topple onto the floor.

"Okay, it's alright, just shock." Eddie kissed her hand before he let go and moved to increase the drip in her hand. She needed the fluids in her system as fast as possible to combat the shock and prevent her from developing crush syndrome. Her muscle wasn't compressed or being split apart anymore, her broken muscles could start spasming and relaxing toxins now she was free.

"How long to the hospital?"

"Ten minutes."

"Make it five." Eddie rammed his fist against the top of the ambulance to make his point. They needed (Y/n) transported as soon as possible. She had to be in surgery within the hour or they wouldn't have much change of saving her leg. Eddie wouldn't let her lose her leg. That wasn't happening.

He kissed her temple again and stayed hovering over her while Hen found another injection of morphine and waved it in Eddie's direction to show him what she was doing. (Y/n) needed more to take the edge off. They had to help her.

(Y/n) could feel more tears drenching down her face, but when she managed to open her eyes and looked up at Eddie hovering over her, she felt like smiling. Her trembling hand cupped the side of his face and she nudged their noses together while his temple was pressing lovingly down against hers.

"You're gonna be just fine now amor, I promise."

[strawberrystepmom]

canon au. cult leader!geto x f!reader. | word count: 762, reading time: 3 minutes.

“Did I ever matter to you, Suguru?”

In a different life, the fact you’ve even asked would have crushed the man standing next to you. In this imaginary reality, he’d ask how he could show you differently that he cares. He would reaffirm that the attention you spent almost a year of your life extending to him was worth it and helped him through the worst times he has ever experienced, but in this one he knows better.  

It doesn’t matter if you did or not. His feelings won’t change the fact you will never be his, your noble choice to do good far more important to you than any lingering feelings you may have for him.

“No, I guess you didn’t.”

The words taste worse across his tongue than any curse he’s ever ingested. He’s a liar, damned to hell for more reasons than just dishonesty, but he has to finally let you go; to let you walk back into a crowded club with tears blurring your vision because his words cut to your core. You told him years ago you fear being forgettable, someone people can let go of without a second thought, and it’s the sharpest knife he can press into you in some ill guided attempt to get the last word.

“I’m glad to finally know.” 

A chance encounter in a club closes out a chapter in your life you thought you’d stay suspended in forever and your stomach turns, your hands idly resting at your sides while your thoughts race. From “does your boyfriend know you’re out dressed like that?” to turning your head with a grin that swiftly fell as you weaved through the thick crowd to end up out here. 

You sniffle and what’s left of his heart breaks, wondering for a moment if he can’t take it back. If he can’t replicate the grin of his former best friend, jovial and wide enough that you believe he’s joking. He could toss you a sardonic, bitter chuckle and you’d roll your eyes but who would it help? 

It’s not like you’re going to return to him, it’s not like he can undo this.

“Thank you for being honest,” you mutter quietly before turning on your heel to leave.

Words sit heavily in his mouth but they disappear with each step you take, putting distance between the two of you before you glance over your shoulder. He’ll try not to remember the look in your eyes while they dance over the entirety of his form as though they’re seeing who he really is for the first time. 

He’ll fail and it’s why he accepts that tonight you’ll return to Satoru, begging for affirmation that you aren’t as worthless as you feel and he’ll almost certainly give it to you, eager to please with sweet words and teases. Reassurances you aren’t nothing, that you’ve made a mark on his life he won’t soon be recovering from. The boy with the silver spoon has become the man with a gilded tongue, the one who always inevitably gets what he wants.

God knows Satoru has wanted you for long enough, since you first stumbled into his life at fifteen, it’s only right he gets to have you now despite Suguru’s selfish wishes that you stay affected by him forever.

He’ll fail and that’s why he knows he will return to the compound, a failed scouting mission in the city under his belt, but he’ll slide into someone’s bed regardless. There’s a woman who looks enough like you when the lights are low he can pretend, it’s the reason he recruited her in the first place, a poor imitation of the real deal. He can press his hand over her mouth to keep her from speaking pleasured babbles in a voice that doesn’t belong to you and he can close his eyes and pretend the smack of skin on skin is yours on his. He’ll ask her to flip over to her belly so he doesn’t have to look at her but he can imagine that the hair that’s a shade too dark to belong to you is still yours, looped around his fist while he fucks all of his angst into her, pretending he’s another man living another life.

Your retreating footsteps continue and his traitorous mouth opens, gasping quietly enough it doesn’t grab your attention over the sound of pouring rain and thrumming music behind the entrance to the club, and he closes it wordlessly, grateful he’ll never have to see you look at him like that again.