#want to curl up in a ball and scream or cry or just stare because omg the pressure is bonkers

[tygenco]

Help?

The update on things is that the housemate is financially flat-lined. If 'thoughts and prayers' were actual currency then I'd be covered for a decade's worth of rent by this point.

For those who don't know: the housemate has become mobility disabled due to a life-altering injury, and then there's the other medical conditions that took the opportunity to go "hiiii, we're heeeere!" They're in a care facility at this point--they've been there since the beginning of December 2023.

I cannot cover the rent on my own, in its entirety, because I do not pull in enough income to do so. I've depleted my tiny buffer and have no other resources. Family is unable to help any more than they already do. Being Autistic, and trying to handle all my Things while dealing with this on my own is making it very difficult to maintain what little 'cool-headedness' I've had in my day to day. I am drowning under the pressure and therapy and meds can only get me so far.

Please, please help.

[lesbiansanemi]

Bad day. Horrible awful terrible bad day

[tonycries]

THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!

Synopsis. Don’t worry, he knows exactly the solution when you’re upset - fúck it out of you, of course!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, FÉRAL GOJO, cheering you up, oraI (fem receiving), breéding, MAJOR overstím, PRAISE, THEY’RE SO DOWN BAD, lowkey sweet, slight exhíbitionism (Toji’s), mean Geto, síxty-nine, chokíng, making Choso cry mhm, spítting, pússy-slappíng, cúmplay, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. You’re loved n’ I hope y’all have a good leak day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Noise complaint(s)

Any time Toji decided to visit you in your cute lil’ apartment, so did a few complaints from your neighbors. 

It wasn’t because of his intimidating presence, or those deadly glares of his - targeted at everyone but you, or even because of the way his large frame unapologetically blocked every doorway in your building.

No, they were noise complaints. 

“So that’s what’s got my girl so mm- upset?” Toji has the audacity to chuckle - chuckle - so raggedly at that syrupy pout of yours he’s kissing away. “Usually you and this sweet pussy-” He cups a palm at your glistening cunt, smearing your sweet, sweet juices in a glossy sheen down his wrist. “-are so happy to see me, n’ now you want to keep her quiet? All because some blue-balled loser just moved in next door and got jealous overhearing your pretty moans?”

At your nervous nod, he clicks his tongue gruffly, “Makin’ you all upset like this, tch-” Leaning down to whisper, until his sharp canines graze dangerously against your earlobe, “He’s about to find out that he hasn’t heard even half of it.”

“But Toji!” you’re squealing, fingers scrambling to clamp your already-deliriously sagging mouth shut. “I told you- we have to mmpf- be quiet. He seemed so grumpy, and-”

You’re being cut off with Toji nudging the divot of his fat head against your g-spot, until all those complaints are lodged in your quivering chest by a moan. Teasing, “Talking ‘bout another man when m’trynna make you feel better, doll? Bold today, aren’t ya?”

“N-no I was jus-” Barely-audible babbles drag out of you at the heavenly stretch of your pussy lips. Toji’s muscled chest heaves up and down at the way your pussy lips addictively swallow up his leaky cock, slobbering down, down, down his length till it glistened in the dim lighting. Your legs kicking up in the air when he insistently feeds your cunt inch by greedy inch. 

Again. And again and again and so needy. Depraved. 

But it still wasn’t enough for him.

“Aww, come on, woman.” He’s rolling his eyes, that tiny scar curling up in a devilish grin when he pries away the hand on your mouth. “Why’re you lyin’ to yourself like this? I know you wanna heh- scream my name as much as this cute cunt of yours is right now. Do it.”

As if to confirm his point, Toji’s pushing apart your puffy folds to let your gaping pussy squelch! even louder at each of his bullying thrusts. Tight ring of muscle taking each and every smack of his sharp hip bones so well, the riotous creaking of your bed following shortly, headboard just slamming into your poor wall despite being bolted onto it.

It was already so loud. 

“I don’t hngh-” you let out a feverish gasp when each roll of his hypnotic cadence gets too much. “I don’t wanna give off a b-bad impression…I just want the neighbors to like me.”

Heart clenching in his chest at how cute you are, how sorry your voice sounds, he finds his irritation flaring once again at whoever this bastard was that had you doubting yourself this way.

“Doll– they’d be fuckin’ stupid not to. And I’d beat their asses, too.” Two soft pads of his fingers come to smush your cheeks together, forcing you to stare up into his darkened emerald eyes. “But my poor baby’s still ngh- upset, no?” When you’re hesitant with your answer, they slide down to your neck - just barely putting a bit of leering pressure, “Answer me while m’still being nice, doll.”

It’s all you can do to choke out a shrill, “Yes.” He can feel your walls clenching around every ridge and prominent vein down his shaft so tight with every sultry, mewled-out word. “H-he was really sweet! But it made me- a bit- jus’ a bit.”

“See?” And Toji sounds so smug, predatory tone bleeding into the way his harsh rams pick up to an obscene speed. A thumb of his dips down to swivel over your neglected clit, wrenching out those candied moans he loves so much. “Nothin’ wrong with makin’ my girl feel better after a shitty experience. N’ if anyone has anything to s-say, they can come complain to hngh- me.”

“B-but-”

“Ah ah-” Toji kisses sloppily at your lips trying to press together and quieten, sucking on your lower lip. “What did I say just now? Loud, pretty girl.” 

And it’s like a dam breaks open right then and there, you’re arching your body off the bed like such a slut to press your bare tits against Toji’s pecs. Sensitive. Faster. “Toji- oh fuck, m’so-”

“Heh, louder. I don’t hear you losing your beautiful voice yet.”

Keening, “M’so close. Fuck- g-gonna cum all over your cock.”

He’s cupping his ear so mockingly, hips still stuttering and thrusting forwards without a moments’ faltering. “Still can’t hear you, m-ah not gonna let you cum if you’re not loud enough, y’know.”

You were sure your sinful noises were traveling through the heavy, plastered wall now. Picking up in pitch and speed with every double-attack on your sweet spots everywhere. Spearing the lewd curve of his dick into you, he’s fucking you into the mattress so mean - meaner that usual. Rugged muscles of his toned waist flexing when he jostles and thrusts unforgivingly. Your voice is hoarse at this point, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck Toji m’cumming. I’m-”

Every other loud moan is drowned out by the ringing in your ears, Toji’s own soft rasps filtering through the white-hot pleasure running down your spine. 

He’s fucking you through wave after wave of high, gifting your bruised g-spot with a thorough, sly pistons of his still-swollen cock. Something that didn’t bode well for you, you already knew. 

“Tha’s it. Yeahh, that’s it-” A hand cups the back of your head gently, even though his slamming staccato was anything but. “Loud. Jus’ like that- shit, gonna make him jealous. Have him regret makin’ my girl upset, fuck-” An irritated banging sounds from the other side of the wall right above your headboard - your neighbor. “Fuck, just watch I’ll give him a real show.” Still throwing jagged hips your way, ram after ram. “What’s the fucker’s name again?”

“He- he said his name was Shiu.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Sweet, sweet treat

“I can fix it.” your husband eyed that droopy bowl of frosting and back to your candied, icing-glossed pout. He can’t help but plant a sweet, sweltering kiss on them, just groaning out, “We can do it together.” Barely managing to break away and breathe out, “S’gonna- turn out- perfect, my love.”

Which is how you find yourself splayed out so shamefully on the cool granite countertops of your kitchen, your soft cotton dress only pulled lazily to the side. Nanami’s knees seated firmly on the hardwood floors, face tucked in between the heavenly sweet folds of your already soaked cunt. 

“Oh- oh fuck, Ken–” he makes you let out a honeyed drawl with every drag of his hot tongue up and down your soppingly wet slit. “Y-you’re gonna get the- ngh- counter dirty!”

So what? He thinks, and it only takes a flicker of surprise in your half-lidded eyes for him to realize he accidentally said that out loud. Not used to those uncharacteristically brash sentences, but Nanami was so drunk off your addictive juices right now. 

Tipping his head back, back, back to let them make their slow, sultry journey down his throat. He’s slurring out proudly, “I’ll clean the mess after I cheer up my upset lil’ wife, okay?”

With this, he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Adding to the glistening gloss that traveled down your folds - and Nanami couldn’t help himself but kiss at the mess he’s made. Over and over and-

“F-fuuuck, jus’ like that-” You’re keening when he’s alternating between hollowing his cheeks out with methodical, never-ending sucks on your sensitive clit and just peeking inside your needy hole with his tongue. “You’re too good with your hngh! -tongue, Ken–”

It’s impossible to run away - and he knew that, too. Every little inch you backed on the counter had him just dragging you back twice as much. Hot tongue clashing and angry to part your swollen pussy lips. 

You can only thread your fingers through his neat blond hair even tighter when he surges back forward. Pussydrunk. Groaning at the lewd smack of his tongue dipping in and out of your puffy folds, Thumb circling around your throbbing clit, “And you’re too sweet, darling. Even sweeter than-” He pools your slick on two thick fingers of his, coating a glossy sheen of obscenity all the way from his rounded tips to the gold wedding ring glinting in the dim light. Before popping them in his mouth to take such long, cleansing drags without even a shred of abashed hesitation, “-that icing of yours.”

“I know–” you’re babbling in disappointment, the full force of your failed attempts at baking something special earlier this evening hitting you once again at full force. “Ugh, what a waste. I can’t even-”

A syrupy beat passes. One. Two. 

And at that very moment, you’re feeling the maddening stretching of your gummy walls being forced to their very limits. Whirling your dazed gaze down to spot that Nanami was now standing, belt unbuckled, tugged down just enough that you were reeling from the pressure of his fat head just barely kissing past your fluttering hole. 

“That’s my wife you’re talkin’ about.” he growls, low and satiny. Hands steadying on the two sides of your trembling thighs, his grunts catch in his throat when he thoroughly sinks his swollen length in. Never-ending, dizzying. A quick frosting-coated glide of Nanami’s fingers on your lips, and he’s pressing another lingering kiss on your slack mouth. Tasting you and the sweet icing and you, “And I don’t let anyone talk about her that way, my love.”

Now, usually, Nanami was a man of patience - liking to prepare and play around with your pretty pussy as if you were his favorite toy. Molding your plush walls like clay to take his massive cock.

But now, oh now Nanami Kento was anything but patient. Shit, he didn’t even know if your snug walls could take him right now. 

Hands curling up into painful fists far away from the curve of your hips, as if he was trying to stop himself from just grabbing your quivering body and just slamming himself inside you until he reached your lungs, your heart, that stupid brain of yours that loved to overthink.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ say anything bad about my wife. You’re perfect.” he breathes, greedy hazel eyes looking like they could devour you whole. “The frosting is perfect, the anniversary cake is perfect, your smile, your mind, you-” You’re being attacked by a flurry of kisses being gifted on every inch of your face that could be reached, “You you you- I love you.”

If you were in the right state of mind, you’d have responded back in a heartbeat. But right now, he’s not waiting a split-second longer before bullying the rest of his swollen, filthy cock in. Solid inches being shoved inside to force your walls to accommodate, stretching out so maddeningly across every divot and upwards curve down his shaft.

In and out in and out in and-

Your nails tear across his favorite blue button-up, down his muscled shoulders, down to that speckled yellow tie you’d gotten him a few years ago. 

“You’re so- hngh-” you squeal, tugging Nanami closer by his tie. Making him bully past your narrow opening even deeper, slick walls squeezing so tight at how his weepy red tip presses right on top of your g-spot. 

He chuckles, it’s so endearing how you’re already too cockdrunk to speak. One engulfing hand on your shoulder is all it takes for you to be sprawled back on the cool counter. Nanami’s pummeling cock bullying so deep inside your hot core it’s the only thing you can think about - nothing but him. 

“How about, after-” Another dredge of sweet sweet frosting is dabbed along your lips, your heated skin. All for Nanami to lick sultrily, “-we’ll make the cake together, hm?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Just use me, baby.”

Those shallow, sultry words are falling from Choso’s rosy lips before he even realizes it - ringing like sheer melodies over the heady smacking of skin-on-skin where he’s bullying his fat cock into you. 

After a few seconds of his sloppy, stuttering rams sending the gooey puddle of cum and slick spreading further and further on the sticky, silken sheets below you - the words finally register. 

“Use you, baby?” you purr, batting your lashes in a way that has him gulping. Feeling his aching shaft twitch against your gummy walls, swollen balls squeezing so so angrily with how much seed he’d been gushing out tonight. “You want me to use you?”

Each thrust of his is lingering, rolling forwards to push you further and further up that pooling mess. He can’t think, he can’t even breathe. And it takes everything in Choso to groan out, “Yes yes- fuck, please.” You’re feeling him place a trail of wet kisses up to the nape of your neck, big tears clinging to his dark lashes, “If my- hngh- if my girl is upset, I want her to use me. Ruin me till she forgets all about it.”

It only takes a split-second for you to immediately flip around your positions, pinning a whiny, pliant Choso so harshly down onto the plush mattress. 

“Hngh- oh, baby—” He bounces slightly at the sheer force. Dewy eyes rolling to the back of his head at the slobbering sheen of cum dripping down his long, long length. Bucking up his quivering hips till you’re speared all the way down on his cock, clit hitting the tufts of black at his thick hilt. “Fuuuck—.” He’s groaning raggedly, like a mantra, two big arms tugging your body stuck to his sculpted front. Nodding half-lucidly, “Yeah- yeah just like that. Whatever you want with me.”

Your pace was unforgiving - barely even giving him a moment to spew out those pussydrunk promises before rocking your hips up and down up and-

“Use you, huh?” you echo back his own words, the sheer need dripping in them having Choso bow his body upwards to pummel into you in a matching feverish pace. You’re humming, thinking back to those stupid pick-up lines the creepy new manager at work had snided just today. It was harmless, but oh how Choso would kill him if he knew. “Well then, don’t mind if I do.”

With a pained keen, he’s surging upwards onto his elbows, craning his head to mesh your honeyed lips with his. “Mmm- mpfh yeah, exactly like this.” Mixing out such throaty groans with your gasps, so desperate to please you with the way he plants two feet on the bed, thrusting up hazily to find your sweet spots, “S’this any better? How do you- ngh how do you feel, baby?”

You’re letting out a drunken giggle with how he’s the one asking - when really it should be you. Because your sweet boyfriend looked so ruined, eyes wrecked with tears. Milky skin a canvas for possessive red marks from your nails. Kiss-bitten lips spit-glossed and permanently parted in ecstasy, only slacking further every time your snug channel dragged down him. 

“Much better, forgot about m’day already.” you’re hissing into his open mouth. “So fuckin’ gorgeous n’ mine, that bastard doesn’t know what the fuck he’s ah- talking about.”

Choso had no idea what you were talking about - though, he thinks his mind is too much of a hot, gooey mess to understand right now. Still so needy to please. Only being able to babble out a stupid, “Yours- fuck m’yours.”

And despite being the one setting the tempo, you can only let out such whiny groans at the sheer stretch Choso’s swollen cock is causing you. By the way he’s molding your gummy walls to each and every throbbing vein decorating down him.

“Sh-shit m’so close, baby.” he whines, a fresh wave of tears streaming down with each overstimulating smack! of his tight, overworked balls against the curve of your ass. Lazily, like he’s moving through molasses, Choso’s drawing messy patterns on your pulsing clit - not even circles, brain too fried to. “M’so close fuck- I need you to- I need-”

“Shhh shhh.” you coo, running a hand through his dark strands, damp with sweat. “Cum f’me, Cho~”

“Hngh!” He can’t stop his hips from bucking up ferally, crying out, “But- I can’t. Wan’ you to feel better. Need you to cum f’me. Use me-”

“Cho.”

“Please-”

“Choso.” you warn, narrowing your eyes, deciding to tease him a little with shallow, repetitive grinds of your hips up and down. Toes curling at the friction of his creamy seed sloshing around inside. “Cum.”

“Hngh- but-” he’s thrashing upwards, so addicted to the rough collision of your sensitive spots against his fat head. Pulling out such fucked-out moans from you already, “But m’spposed to be making you feel happy-”

Your fingers deftly find themselves on Choso’s temping throat, right above his racing pulse. You tighten your nails just enough to leave five matching crescents to match the rest of his marked-up body.

“Cho–” you puff in a sultry groan against his ear. “All I want is for you to fill me up right now.”

And then he’s spilling into you in thick, hot dredge after dredge of his potent seed - before you’ve even finished your sentence. It overfills your pre-painted cunt, that obscene white slopping out of your slit and onto where your hips rocked against your boyfriend’s even harder. A creamy white ring forming mouthwateringly. Relentlessly. 

“See?” Choso couldn’t - vision blurry, ears stuffed with cotton. “I don’t care what any sleazy manager has to say, you’re perfect for me.” A gentle kiss is placed on his pouty, worried lips and shit you still didn’t show any signs of slowing down, overstimulating him to tears. You trace his furious marks, “N’ pick me up from work tomorrow in your skimpiest muscle tee~”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Overtime?

A lewd smack! is all that’s ringing in your ears right now, so loud over the distant hum of the photocopier. Accompanied shortly by Geto’s sing-song rasp of, “Heh, missin’ our reservation for this- Are you the one havin’ a bad day or am I?”

Before you can answer, you’re being gifted with another mean kiss of your boyfriend’s palm against your bulging pussy. Smack! Lingering on the nudge of where he could feel your sloppy hole mending around his girthy shaft, before dancing upwards to grip your hair in a sultry hold. 

Pulling your entire weight up, up, up like he didn’t care about the way he was treating you like some ragdoll right now. Up to drag his lips towards your ear, “Doesn’t matter, because m’still fuckin’ you just the same.”

“S-Sugu–” your breaths crack with need when he’s pushing in a harsh thrust to slam back into the very bottom of your poor pussy. Eyes darting to the tiny window of your office photocopy room, “Sugu, we’re going to get caught.”

“And yet, she’s still hah- sucking me up as sluttily as ever.” he grins, tilting his head back to get those long, inky strands out of his face. He chuckles at the obscene sight of your cunt stretched to her limits, struggling, and drooling a sweet, sweet gloss down his length. “What’s with the ngh- attitude now? You said you wanted to feel better about working overtime so here we are.”

You bite down on your lower lip to hold back your moans when his fat tip draws a solid, straight line across your bruised cervix. Slamming forwards to have you scrambling forwards into some more important paperwork you really should be looking over right now. 

“I did but-”

“Problem solved then.” Geto lets out a low whistle, sounding so utterly smug when he pulls your hips deeper into his. “Now let me make this shitty workload hah- so much better for you, gorgeous.”

Honestly, when you told your dear boyfriend that you’d have to cancel tonight’s date because of a sudden deadline for tomorrow, you felt guilty. Working after everyone else had left, spewing out upset little apologies until he told you he’d come over to the office to “help you take your mind off of things.”

You just didn’t expect it’d end up like this. 

Smack!

Geto scoffs, “Aww documents have you zoning out on me again, pretty girl? Take a break, didn’t I tell ya you don’t have to worry about work and all those stupid things when you’re with me?”

Your knees weaken involuntarily when his gruff question is followed by such an unapologetic crash into your ravaged g-spot. Thankfully being held up by one of Geto’s strong arms to fuck yourself back all the way from his red, weepy tip to that see-through ring dredged up on his thick base. Somehow, you’re managing to gasp out, “N-no, I was just…”

“N-n-no, you were just zoning out, that’s what.” he’s mocking your answer in an overly-dramatic higher pitch, adding a few extra moans you were spilling with every harsh slam after slam of his hips. “What did I tell you now, relax. Let me fuck this shitty overtime and that shitty boss outta ya cute lil’ head, gorgeous. You and her-” His red-rimmed eyes, drunk on the feeling of your slicked walls enveloping him, lock on the sight of his curved dick disappearing so easily in and out of you. “-don’t have to worry about a thing right now.”

It was that same little promise - the one he’d whispered over and over into your sagging open mouth when he’d first ambushed you in the photocopy room. Bending you over the nearest flat surface before ramming into you all those thick, greedy inches of his long-needy cock.

And here he still was. 

Splatters of your syrupy slick coats his toned pelvis with every jagged thrust, fucking you so deep - so disrespectfully - into the office desk. Your feet don’t even touch the ground now, mind spinning and syrupy. Geto’s bending his own to angle up exactly to hit the bullseye of your sweet spots. All those familiarly mapped-out areas to drive anything and everything out of your mind but him and the temptation for more more more-

Click!

Both of you are raising your heads in sync at the distinct clamor of an opening door somewhere in the office - shit, was someone doing patrols at this time?

Your jaw drops open in shock - and the feeling of your boyfriend sliding two slender fingers to your pulsing clit. Drawing rough, skimming circles on the bundle of nerves. He has you jolting and arching your back right into him, his arms - exactly where he loved to have you. 

“Now we’re-” your words come in strangled little stutters, mindlessly bouncing your ass back onto his cock. Feeling the sinful tremors run down your spine with each slam, “-we’re really gonna get hah- caught. And I’m not even halfway through my project yet.”

And Geto - that smug bastard - sounds amused. He thinks he’ll have a ah- talk with your boss later about piling on workloads later. But for now, he sounds so fucking content when he’s musing, “Better cum fast before they give you more than overtime, pretty girl.” Before planting a deceivingly chaste peck on your lips, “Though, I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to havin’ a cute lil’ housewife to spoil all day either.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - QUIET TIME!

“Oh, Kuna–”

“Now that’s music to my ears.” Sukuna smirks darkly, lips searing in a trail right down your arched spine. Two inhumanly large hands massage down your back, pulling you against his sculpted front. “So much better to hear you say m’name than complain about some fuckin’ eugh-” His tone trembles in distaste, “-office drama.”

Scoffing, “No need to be so mean, Kuna. You really should’ve heard what Mrs. Smith down at-”

That little tangent earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your bare ass, cupping the little tremors with a chuckle. He hums with a mocking lilt in his baritone voice, “You’re testing my patience~” Sukuna goes back to kneading at the stressed knots in your body. “Shut up and let me massage you, woman.”

And oh you should’ve learned your lesson - should’ve taken this rare, sweet little moment you’d gotten from your rough boyfriend. Should’ve done anything other than huff out, “Ugh, if only you’d heard what she said, ruined my whole-”

“Lift your hips.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden interruption, “Wh-what?”

“Lift your hips goddammit.”

It’s all you can do to mindlessly head his gruffed out words, legs stuttering and shaky when you get up on all fours. A gasp rips from your throat when Sukuna shuffles into the gap between your pliant body and the silken bedsheets. Not stopping until his hot breath was puffing against your sopping slit, your eyes mere inches away from his massive erection. Throbbing thickly and outlined with precum through his boxers. 

Your mouth waters, “K-Kuna what-”

“So it really takes this to get me back on your mind, huh, brat?” he’s cutting you off with another branding smack on your ass - this time, the very rounded tips of his thick fingers just grazing against your dripping folds. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ about some fuckin’ Mrs. Smith even when I’m right here.”

“Are you jealous?” you muse, brows turning upwards in confusion. “Because I can assure you-”

Before you can run your mouth again, Sukuna’s cutting you off with one hand reaching down to wrap around your throat. The other pulls your shaky hips down to sit on his face. 

“How’s this for jealous?” He grunts, an obscene slurping noise pouring into your hazy bedroom, eyes rolling to the back of his head at this messy kiss with your needy cunt. “Gonna make you forget about those shitty people. Just focus on me.”

You’re managing to wrangle your greedy gaze over your shoulder to spy his lewdly wet smirk, glistening down with a glossed cover of your slick. They’re so pretty, so kiss-bruised in your favorite shade of pink when they wrap around your throbbing cunt to give a harsh suck. “What? Got a problem, woman?”

You wine softly in protest, your lower lip jutting out in a pout that makes his clothed cock just coat down his fat tip with syrupy precum. Opening your mouth to retort and-

In all of two seconds, Sukuna’s hand snug around your throat drops down to tug on his boxers. Tall, angry erection hitting your parted lips with a soft thwack! It doesn’t stay there for long - no, because you feel that familiar pressure back on your throat again, and his achy cock being bullied down, down, down your throat. 

“Actually, don’t answer that.” he’s letting out a strained groan, sanity dancing away with every clench of your tight throat around his glistening shaft. Holding you still with the hand on your throat, Sukuna’s powerful thigh muscles strain when he’s fucking up into your heavenly mouth slow, sultry. Spitting to coat him in all your sweet saliva, “Consider this quiet time, just shut up and take my cock.”

Your eyes are watering, Sukuna’s girth rubbing against every part of your plushy mouth. Swirling a pool of salty precum on your tongue. You can’t do anything but keen brokenly around that warm weight when long, thick fingers are spreading your puffy folds to wrangle his long tongue in deeper. Textures of his tastebuds grazing over and over against your spongy entrance - your clit. 

“Hngh- mmpf-” you’re jutting your hips traitorously. Dragging your slobbering pussy up and down his thorough lips, giving longing, drunken licks up from your weepy base to your hot clit. “Kuna-”

He breaks away with a sinful smack! Your sensitive bud being tugged along with snapping strings of delicate precum and slick.

“Mhm, that’s what I like-” he’s slurring out words mixing together with need. Free hand coming down to toy your clit between two rolling fingers. And you could tell how much he liked this, fat shaft twitching animalistically inside your mouth. Nudging his leaking head at the back of your throat, it’s only with how long you’ve been with Sukuna that you manage not to gag. “-to have you shut up on my cock this way. That pretty mouth is better used for something other than rememberin’ some shitty people when you’re with me. They can fuck right off with the disrespect towards my woman.”

It’s all you can do to keep your jaw slacking further and further with every dragged-out smack of Sukuna’s heavy balls against your face. His hips using you like some glorified cocksleeve, ruthless in his pace. Molding your mouth to the shape of him while he does the very same with yours.

“F-fuuuck-” you manage to gasp out through the drooling edges of your lips. “It feels so- ngh–” Moans getting lost when Sukuna flicks your throbbing clit slowly, nudging with the very tip of his dark fingernails. “You’re being so-”

“So loud.” he finishes your own sentence for you. Grinning a grin that sends shivers up your spine, right to where he was stuffing your mouth shut with all long inches of his cock. Murmuring dangerously around your sloppy hole, “Interrupt quiet time again and you don’t get to cum, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Unmistakably depraved.

“Fuuuuck, sweetheart.” Gojo’s whispering, over and over. As if he can’t - won’t - manage to articulate anything else right now. The honeyed words wrenching out of him with each sticky crash of his shaft down your sloppy slit in this firm mating press. “Do you know how hngh- long I’ve missed this sweet cunt?”

You don’t have to answer, and the echoing smack! of his too-sensitive balls against the curve of your ass is enough of one for him. Making his eyes gleam with such a feral glint, traveling straight to where he was pressing in bullying little grinds past your clamping walls. 

It’s been so long - too long - about a whole week since your pussy-whipped boyfriend was able to have his fill of you.

A soft pad of his thumb rolls in a  languid circle over your needy clit. Sending white-hot shockwaves that have you jolting the balls of your feet to greedily swallow up even more throbbing inches of him. 

“Fuck, forgot how tight you s-squeeze me when I do that.” Gojo eyes dance to the back of his head with every bottom-out hit against your clingy mess of a cunt. Crashing so messily onto every velvety inch of your cunt. It only takes a few drags of your slobbering walls down his length for your dear boyfriend to run his mouth, “Forgot allll about this because of some- hngh- some mournng for a fucking fictional character-”

“My favorite character, Toru!” you exclaim, through furrowed brows. Both of you are shocked at the fact that you’re still managing to speak in coherent sentences - just means he hasn’t fucked you good enough yet, he muses with his syrupy, pussydrunk mind. “He was my- my favorite and he died and-”

You’re immediately being shut up by two sweet lips planting on your own, immediately moving to suck on your tongue so filthily. “Well, I’m your favorite boyfriend-” Your only, but semantics. Gojo whines - whines, “Shouldn’t I- hngh- be more important?”

As if to help you make your decision, he’s burrowing his cock in such needy thrusts. And Gojo can’t help but crane his neck to bite down on your frantically racing pulse, feeling himself salivate with how well you’re milking each and every single vexing ram of his hips. Just spearing the hotly saturated tip into your spongy g-spots, so fucking big that every stroke feels like a brush against your throat, an indent into the plush walls of your pussy, wrapping and molded around his girth. 

Another bite to your neck at your silence - sharp canines just shy of drawing blood. And you swear Gojo’s eyes spark with an unnatural lightning blue when he devours you with a greedy stare, “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“You a-are.” Is all you can gasp out, but that’s not enough for the great Gojo Satoru. You’re instantly earning a rosy pout and a loaded smack! right on the bullseye of your glistening clit, faintly you think you hear the crackle of jujutsu. Thighs burning at the sheer stretch of being folded down, down, down until your knees knocked against your tits. “You’re more- hah! Fuck fuck fuck don’t– you’re more important!”

This seems to soothe your jealous boyfriend a bit, but it still doesn’t stop him from placing such brutal thrusts on your poor, ravaged pussy. Bruising. Sloppy. 

You’re whining so brokenly, “Fuck, right there- feels too good- hngh!”

“Mhm, exactly what I thought.” Another explosive slap to your sensitive nub, humming with power, and Gojo throws his head back at how much it makes you gush so wetly around his thick hilt. “Now, was that- ngh- was that so hard?” Spitting out little profanities into your lips, as if the man he was jealous over wasn’t a few pixels, “The f-fucker- Had to wait a whole week before I got to comfort my sad girl? I’d kill him myself.”

You can’t even formulate a response to that - not even if you wanted to. Because with increasingly sloppy drags of his cock against your walls, Gojo only grows more and more heated. 

“Fuck- makin’ my girl so upset. Gonna fuck all thoughts outta him for ya.” Babbling out little curses a mile a minute, swift pace bruising your spring cervix, your g-spot. A thin trickle of drool trails messily in-between your clashing kisses, only growing every time he’s ramming into your gripping cunt. “Gonna make you cum- make you mine.” Difficult, even with how you were clinging onto his every rough, angled thrust, and you don’t think Gojo even realizes the possessive little spanks he’s repeatedly leaving on your puffy clit. “Won’t you cum like a good girl f’me, sweetheart?”

He’s moaning at the sloppy way you listen to his ragged plea, letting out such pretty moans into the heady air when you fall back into your high. Toes curling, jolts of needy pleasure running down your spine, such a mess. 

It makes Gojo falter in his tempo, it makes the sharp bones on his toned hips slam into you even harder, stuttering and rutting forwards like some animal in heat that can’t bear to do anything but be buried well inside you. It makes him cum. 

“Oh- fuck, Toru s’in so deep.” You mewl, too cockdrunk to say anything else. To feel anything but the slow, sultry filling of your quivering cunt. Rope after rope of his hot cum painting the mess of your branded walls inside, and each time he’s fucking his cum even deeper you feel a lewd whimper of his name leave you. Vision tinging with need, with the feeling of being so overfilled you could barely breathe. “Oh- oh my god I feel it coming-”

Your words hitch in your throat when Gojo - cock still angry and twitching with faint wisps of trickling cum - plugs a slender finger into your bulging cunt. Stopping the overflow, the grins, “Hope you’re on the pill, my girl, because we’re not done until you forget.”

A/N. Ouu y’all should’ve seen the way I was CACKLING writing Toji’s ending.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[hhighkey]

An Ode to... // Feitan, one shot - part of hhighkey’s phantom troupe universe series

Rating: mature Story Contains: Stockholm syndrome, implied past kidnapping and stalking, emotional and physical violence, isolation, torture, feitan dense when it comes to feelings, jealousy, possessive behavior, rough sex, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, female reader, etc Note: wc just over 9k, updated for grammar, ao3 link: xxx

Feitan followed you for a year before kidnapping you. You'd caught his eye by surprise one day- technically Phinks pointed you out to him- but your fate was decided then and there. So he'd yearn for you during nights he struggled to sleep, which turned into a battle within him raging of emotions unlike any he'd felt day in and out. It was like his chest and heart swelled so much around you or at the thought of you- he was so full with a warm giddiness that he thought he'd burst. For some days he wondered if killing you would make his life easier, until he realized one night that the thought of you dying hurt even more than any injury. 

For eight months you'd been his. 

And time didn't seem to matter anymore as you spent it in a small attic turned bedroom with a small bathroom. A tiny round window, with metal bars, was your only door to the outside world. You'd watched the seasons change from summer to fall, and now to winter. A dusting of white snow had fallen on the ground and furthermore a cold draft had you shaking under a mountain of thin blankets. 

The first month you never left the attic, Feitan wouldn't let you. You didn't see him either, just opening the door to place food inside then immediately locking it again. Screaming and crying until your voice was hoarse and you had no more tears to cry. Days on end curled into a ball as you stared devoid at a plank wall. The ceilings were low, meeting at a point in the center, thankful you were short to be able to move around easier. For a while you refused to be broken, trying to do small things to keep up fitness, but slowly the lack of signs of rescue froze everything. Like your mind and body shut down so matter how you yearned for your prior life. Slipping into your own world you began in your head, an alternate reality with your loved ones that did its best to comfort you. 

But each day you awoke in that same room in the same bed. Chilling how Feitan took your own pillows and blankets, to provide you some comfort or familiarity. Your favorite outfits in the drawers across the room, the cloth baby doll you slept with every night- it made you realize just how long your captor had been watching. 

Month two you realized things in the room were moved ever so lightly in the morning. At first you chalked it up to your poor mental state, that you had simply forgotten. Until you woke up one night, around 2AM to a pair of dark eyes watching you. Feitan. He was the one who pulled the chair to your bedside. He was the reason you woke up feeling vulnerable and gross. After you caught him, he didn't bother to hide anymore. 

He started watching you do the most mundane tasks, primarily eating, worried you'd choke. Started asking you the food you preferred and when you scarfed it as fast as possible, he grasped your jaw and helped you chew. That was the first time he'd touched you and your eyes lit up in shock from the chills that went down your spine. He didn't come around much after that, as you started getting too bold. You'd yell and scream at him, try throwing whatever you got your hands on. He left you isolated for weeks. 

Maybe it was your pathetic nature of wanting to please everyone, not being able to stand up for yourself that really drew Feitan in. Because never once did you try to escape— Especially not when the way Feitan walked around the house had your eyes glued to him with stars dizzying within them.

By month four he let out downstairs, let you sit in the kitchen as he cooked. Let you watch a movie as long as you sit on the couch with your hips just touching his. And you did it, because watching the reruns of that boring soap opera was the best thing to happen to you in far too long. It kept you from attempting to escape- asides from the fact there was no way out of the dingy attic, especially when Feitan left for weeks on end. 

The basement was cold. 

Your feet felt like they'd freeze off the first time he brought you down there. You realized, rather quickly, that you never wanted to be there again.

And it was in that basement that you understood who Feitan truly was, what he did for work and why he constantly disappeared. And why you needn't disobey. 

Even when he opened the door to the basement for the first time and motioned, you followed. Because five months in you'd listen due to fear. 

But your disobedience shown in the way your body froze when you reached the bottom of the stairs- whimpers escaping your lips as you tried to go back up. Feitan had just stood there, pushing you further. 

"Sit," He said, pointing to an armchair set up towards the workstation, "want you see me work." 

"W-work?" You swallowed hard. With hindsight you shouldn't have been surprised that someone as cold as Feitan, your kidnapper, was a murderer. A torturer who relished in pain, as not one did your depressed state bother him.

A man- beaten bloody was strapped to a table cranked forward so his head hung. He was in a loose shirt and shorts, ankles and wrists chained to the steel surface. 

"No.." The tears began to fall thickly, "please let me go upstairs-"

"No." Feitan watched you, "Sit. Waiting too long. Want you to watch. Been five months."

So you had been with him for five months, a part of you felt it'd been years already. "I can't," You whimpered, "please," your stomach was churning, bile rising in your throat as an intense heat dizzied your body. 

Feitan grabbed your wrist as if you were a doll, dragging you over and into the chair, "Stay." it was a threat. You could only nod as snot began to run down your nose and sweat beaded at your brow. Breathing became hard, the air dense and the smell of blood was sickening. 

The man's screams. 

Your ears ring trying to drown the screeches out. 

You couldn't stop your blubbering no matter how many glares Feitan sent your way. Your shoulders shaking and stomach in knots as you were continuously forced to swallow your own vomit to not make a mess, or ensue Feitan's wrath. Because you'd dealt with his cold shoulder or an occasional sprained limb from how strong he was. Used to his harsh words and threats, and invading eyes watching your every move when not locked in the attic. But you didn't want to be on that table, no matter what. 

The man was inconsolable as Feitan grabbed a pair of pliers, snapping them over and over as he crept closer. A heavy whirl of silence, of anticipation- the calm before the storm really before Feitan used the pliers to grasp the captive's fingernail. One after another. Scream after scream. Blood. A sickening ripping noise before tossing them to a palette. 

Oh the man was a mess. Voice hoarse with tears and saliva dripping down the side of his face as he begged for an end. Begged to die compared to the start for a reprise. 

"Please- just kill me "

Feitan's head cocked, eyes darkening, "talk."

"No."

Feitan doesn't like hearing no, you know that. You've felt his silent anger when you'd cry and shriek- because you weren't doing what he wanted. And in that basement watching a man's blood splatter about, you realized you were all out of his good graces he was willing to give. Like his self awareness that you needed time to adjust finally reached its end. Because a wild thump came down with the force of a thousand suns, and three fingers toppled to the ground with crimson red spurting like a wild rose. 

"Who moved merchandise?" Feitan hissed as he grasped another gruesome looking tool with his thin fingers. 

"Go to hell," 

Rage. A sharp crack sounded as a molar went flying with a clatter across the room. It enraged him, all the defiance this captive had, for your first showcase of his work. So maybe he was embarrassed as he seethed from his pores, muscles tensed as an iron poker bent from his sheer will. He could hear your cries. Pathetic. 

As he turned to you- you were cowering in the chair, with your head in your hands. Rocking back and forth as you blubbered about. 

You weren't watching. 

The man wasn't cracking and Feitan's patience expired. With limbs now missing and blood soaking the floor surrounding them, he knew the man had been serious about dying rather than spilling information. 

So his focus was on you. 

With horror your head snapped up as a nasty crunching noise forced vomit up your dried throat, the man's neck snapping in half, head falling limp with a bouncy recoil. 

"Oh," you whimpered, you shrunk back as humanly possible. Coated in red, with anger, Feitan stalked his way to you. 

You stumbled from the chair, your flight kicking in for the first time since he'd brought you here. Crawling and kicking until your back hit the wall and the tears stream heavier than before, like you were smack dab in a horror movie. His grim eyes preying on you like you were nothing but a snack, a glimmering blade at his side that has you quaking. Terror as he stood over you. 

"Not watching." He hissed. 

"I'm sorry! N-ext time!" You cried, holding your hands up in a meek defense, "I'll be better,"

Feitan was high on adrenaline. Enraged by the lack of pleasure his torture session brought. Frustrated by your reaction. How scared you were of him when all he was trying to do was include you in his work, something he loved. Something he wanted you to watch with pride.

You shriek as he grabs hold of your legs, yanking you toward him. Preying on you like a monster as he crouched down to put weight on you, knife in hand. Such a sadistic look in his eyes as he ripped your shirt up enough to show him your rib cage. Legs flailing. Arms weakly hitting at him. But he didn't move. Feitan brought the tip of the knife down to your skin and you went limp with shock. No noise left your mouth after a few seconds until a throaty, airy cry sounded out with spasming of your eyes following. Blood trickled down your stomach as Feitan carved letter after letter against your pained jerks. Begging. Sobbing. You were a mess underneath him as your vision began to falter as terror and agony washed over you making you numb. 

"Next time, tie you on chair to watch." Feitan said with a smirk, possessively tracing the bloody gash that spelled out his name on your delicate skin. All you could do was cry and wheeze in and out of consciousness. 

And as you finally went limp, a heavy breath shuddered from Feitan's lips as the reality set in. He grimaced. It was pure adrenaline and anger that he acted on, and the aftermath was a sickening regret bubbling in his chest. Hurting you wasn't something he wanted to do again.. unless absolutely necessary. 

-

The following months you grew familiar with the schedule of when Feitan brought his victims and wanted you to watch. 

Perhaps you were too sensitive. Too much of an empath as each incision he made into a captive, you felt the carving of his name burn on your skin. Like a searing branding of understanding their pain, to an extent, that they went through. An understanding of being a victim like them, but you were luckier in a sick sense because you had Feitan's mercy of love. If you could call it that no matter how many times he insisted he took you for protection because you were his. 

Life with Feitan could be like living with a bomb, never knowing when or why it set off. Somedays you didn't look at him enough, others you stared too long and when his cheeks turned pink and he grew vicious. Learning his habits or moods was hard, but slowly you became accustomed.

Feitan liked to touch your waist, specifically shoving his hands under your shirt to feel your skin. His fingers would grip and prod even if you flinched from a sudden pinch. His greatest show of care was patting your head. He started doing so after you convinced him to let you take over meals, reminding him you always cooked for yourself prior. In another life basically. Then out of the blue Feitan took your things from the attic and into his room. You'd panicked looking for your missing plushies you needed to sleep, your missing pillow and favorite blanket. The dresser and closet were empty. Your toiletries were gone. Oh. Your heart sank, Feitan had enough of you. You were going to die. 

So you went back downstairs, ready for him to take you down to the basement and tie you up. You let your mind wander to what methods or tools he'd use. Maybe he'd be kind and make it quick. 

Feitan quirked a brow up as he saw your dejected form pad into the living room. You sat with a glazed, far away look on your face and immediately he panics. 

"Y/N?" To hear your name from his lips, made yours tremble.

"I'm sorry."

He was upon you within seconds, grasping at your arms to pull up your sleeves, "What's wrong? Hurt?"

"Are you going to kill me?"

A look of disgust flashed over his features, "No, never. You're mine."

"But my room?"

"Oh." Feitan's eyes immediately flit anywhere other than you, dropping your arms to rest on the couch. He was embarrassed and you're trying to figure out what's going on. "Moved into my room, figured you liked me more, things have been... nice."

Did you? Like him? Not particularly, right? Sure you liked the sound of his voice or when his eyes softened when you walked into the room. You thought the faces he made were cute asides from the maliciously crazy ones when he tortured somebody. And you were beginning to like feeling his touches, unsure advances that showed he was human in there somewhere. Because he wanted your approval, that much was apparent after all these months. Wanted you to watch him with pride and reassure he was touching you correctly, caring for you correctly. And perhaps you were flattered realizing how enthralled he was, how much he knew about you down to the most minor details. While you only knew he was a killer. So maybe you did like him in a twisted way, your brain fogging past details of cruelty and pushing up warm emotions instead. For your own good you needed to forget he forced you to watch others die, that he cut your own skin, that he might have killed your family. You bargained with yourself that perhaps him locking you in the attic was for your own good, that you needed to see Feitan in a better light and you only needed some time. Right?

"Oh!" Your relief is evident. And he looked happy to see that. "Oh my." You place your hand over your heart, breathing in and out. 

Feitan slowly rested a hand on top of your head, "Should have told you sooner... sorry."

"S'okay, misunderstanding. I'm good." 

Feitan nodded simply because he could feel your pulse begin to slow from its prior heightened pace, "Come." 

You followed behind him like a lost puppy needing its owner to find its way. Your heart felt at the bottom of your stomach, nervous to what Feitan had in mind moving you to his bedroom. The realization hit that you'd be in bed with him as you entered. His room was bare, which didn't surprise you. The only hint of life were your colorful blankets and plushies set up on the large bed. Two dressers, loveseat, and two doors you assumed were a bathroom and closet. Secretly you felt relief as it didn't smell of blood and there wasn't any sign of death.

Feitan watched you as you took your time to look around the room. He said nothing as you opened drawers to find your things, while some had his. The closet had more of your clothes. The ensuite was clean as well. He liked seeing you nod an approval of the space you'd share with him, filled him with pride. 

You sat on the bed. 

You felt along your blankets and then his own he originally had. You rearranged your stuffed doll. Fluffed your pillow. Not having changed out of the clothes you slept in last night, you decided not to change because you weren't sure what Feitan was expecting of you. Embarrassment licked the edges of your neck as you felt your palms begin to sweat. 

Terror coursed through your veins, your heart about to beat through your chest as you laid beside him. A few inches of space between the two of you. But it was suffocating as he joined you under the blanket. 

"Relax. Won't hurt you."

You gripped the sheets tighter, "Okay."

"Don't believe me."

"I'm sorry." You immediately countered, tensing.

Feitan sighed, trying to remember advice Chrollo gave him: to be more understanding and soft, "Sorry for cutting you few months ago, wanted you to see what I enjoy and you seemed not to care. But I enjoy you more so, only come to basement if you want now. Free reign over inside when I'm gone, just no hurting yourself. No going outside unless I'm with you."

Huh? "I- can go out?"

"With me."

"Can we go out tomorrow? Will it rain? Can I run around on the grass?" You were like a child in a candy store, excitement dripping through your tone that has Feitan's lips turning up in the dark. 

"If it rains tomorrow, go another time. Okay?"

"Yes. Perfect!" You were absolutely giddy, to the point personal space did not matter. You flung yourself across the bed to hug Feitan. Feeling his cold body you go still, filled you with horror realizing what you just did. "I'm sorry- I.."

Yet he wrapped an arm around you, ghosting along your skin like he was scared to scare you. He waited to see if you'd flinch away but you didn't. 

"Don't apologize, like this." He hugged you taut. 

There was nowhere to go but on him, really. You rested your head on his shoulder, forced to sprawl a leg across his own while your other wrenched beneath you. It felt like you may explode, a litany of conflicting emotions pulling you every which way. Hesitantly you placed your left hand across his chest, waiting for him to decide to hurt you or that this was taking it too far. But that never came. Feitan may have laid there like a statue, though after a few minutes he started squirming, attempting to relax with you in his arms while you listened to his wild heart beat.

You swallowed hard deciding to speak up, "I can move-"

"No." His words sounded laced with venom, but you could tell the slight difference. Feitan was nervous. Just like you were. 

Your lips parted but no words came out. The fact you were both enduring the same confusing emotions, unsure how to physically figure the other out, made you feel so close to him. He was on your level, just as scared. 

"Fei..tan?" You whispered his name, realization blossomed inside you and it was as if the last eight, maybe nine months were finally making sense!

"Yes?" It sounded, at least to you, like he was choking up.

"I- think I realize something. I think we're both awkward people and you didn't know how to go about any of this. Please hear me out." Boldly you pushed yourself out of his grip, pushing up on his chest so you could prop on your knees under the blanket. Feitan followed suit by sitting up to lean against the bed, quickly pulling the bedside lamp's string. He stared at you expectantly. So you continued with his full attention and the sudden coolness of losing his touch, "I think we feel the same way, not sure how to act around the other. I- don't get mad at me saying but you're very rough around the edges and I don't think anyone ever explained you shouldn't kidnap someone you love, or hurt them. But feeling your nerves, I'm realizing we're the same. I never know how to act around you, I thought you hated me or something but you're nervous too."

Your tongue felt numb as you spilled as many words as possible. Unsure if you made sense. Unable to look at Feitan as you spoke. 

He was quiet until a hand touched your cheek, "You- feel for me how I feel for you?"

You nod. 

Feitan brought your chin up so your gazes could connect. There was no maliciousness, only nerves. His lips aren't in their normal frown, instead they're slightly parted. He pulled you closer, hating that you chose to sit inches too far for his taste, having been in his arms prior. 

You let out a whine as Feitan leaned in, his breath fanning along your lips. Your body was begging for him to close the gap, your stomach a fluttering mess of butterflies working its way through your ribcage. Blood pounded in your ears, 

"Feitan?"

"Quiet." Fingers shake as you bring them to run through his black locks, causing a shiver to go down his spine and the smallest of noises to come from his throat. You found something he enjoyed and your heart felt content as you massaged along his scalp as his lips lay centimeters from yours.

The kiss was hesitant. Barely a peck as the touch of your lips had you both upright, shocked, staring at the other. Like a deer in headlights you waited for him to get upset, to kill you even. But he only captured your lips again, for a deeper kiss as your lips meshed together. His tongue pushed in, exploring your mouth greedily as he squeezed your waist. You made a noise as he flipped you underneath him, slamming his mouth back against yours as he pressed himself into you. 

When you two parted, gasping for air, uncertain as you each explored each other's bodies, a gentle smile pulled at the corners of your lips. Feitan licked along your jaw, licked down your neck occasionally sucking on your sensitive skin. You whimpered and he pulled away as if you'd stabbed him.

"Liked.. that?" When you nodded his eyes glossed over. You liked it as he sucked and bit at your neck. What other pain could he inflict to bring you pleasure? You really were made for him, he told himself. 

You reach up to try to take one of his hands into yours, he obliged, put his weight on his other forearm, "So.. I.." Embarrassment hit you and you suddenly felt ridiculous for what you were about to ask.

"What."

"Are we..?"

"Don't understand."

Your face went red, you looked away still feeling his breath across your face, "Never mind."

"Go to sleep, you're thinking too hard." Feitan huffed as he rolled off you, "Taking you outside tomorrow, you need rest."

"Okay."

To your surprise he hugged you from behind, nestling up to you, letting you slot into him as if it were the perfect fit. You could tell this was new, not something he did from how tense his body was. Sleep finally began to overtake your senses. A blossoming happiness in your chest as he traced a finger along your skin whilst holding your waist. 

You fell asleep with a smile. Fell asleep with your back to his chest, him spooning you as if this was suddenly normal. As if you were an ordinary couple. You found comfort in his quiet breaths and knowing he'd watch over you. That night you dreamed of the day you met Feitan, and it changed, no longer was it filled with blood and cries, but a joy as if it were love at first sight. You two hand in hand walking off to a new life. 

-

That morning you awoke with not a care in the world. You thought waking up to an empty bed would hurt, but nothing would diminish the smile smacked onto your lips. From an amazing dream to remembering your first kiss with Feitan, nothing could have taken that away. Giddy, you dressed in your most comfortable outfit and skipped out to face the rest of your day with excitement, feeling lighter than ever. The normal weight and anxiety you woke up with, was gone, replaced with a sense of purpose.  

A list formed in your head of what you wanted to do. 1. Check the weather and if Feitan doesn't have to work, 2. Make breakfast, 3. Go outside.

The morning sun was strong amidst the blue, cloudless sky as you stared out the kitchen window. You grinned before grabbing ingredients you'd need for breakfast, hoping Feitan would be joining, but regardless you'd cook for him. You worked with a hop in your step, movements nonchalant as you continued to glance at the mid-morning sky. Too focused to feel a presence hidden, watching, until- 

"You look... happy." 

You squeaked, jumping at the sudden voice. You felt his dark aura first before you turned to see him, standing in the doorway, "Good morning. Hungry?"

Feitan nodded, inching over to the table. Your smile ignites a pain in his chest that he didn't understand. As he looked over you, all he could think about was his lips on yours and the addiction of it that stained his blood. How you'd snuggled into him. How in your sleep you'd begged him not to leave you. Feitan doesn't think he likes the churning in his stomach or the nerves coursing through him as he looks at you- it scares him. You had the power to turn him into this. 

"Made scrambled eggs and toast, that okay?" You set a plate in front of him, creases at the corner of your eyes as you do so. 

"Yes." He watched as you got him something to drink, then sat down with your own food. On the tip of his tongue are questions about last night, but Feitan felt ridiculous asking if you liked kissing him, or if he could do it again.

"Is it okay? Made it kind of quick, it's a nice day out." You smiled warmly at him, expectantly.

"Yes, good. We'll go outside when you're done."

He remembered and was following through, it meant the world to you. So you finish eating to clean up, which he surprised you by doing himself.

You were like an excited puppy standing by the front door bouncing on the balls of your feet. 

"Stay in my sight. Can't run anywhere without me finding."

"I know I know. Can I run around the yard at least?"

"Sure." His threat went right over your head. It hits him that you don't need a threat to stay put. You weren't planning anything. 

It didn't take long to undo the litany of locks on the door, it didn't matter if you knew where any keys were kept. Nen was the key factor to them.

He had to urge you out, that it really was okay to be outside, "Go out, I'll be sitting right here." He said rubbing the low of your back. 

After a few grueling seconds you comply, a small giggle as you hurry off the porch. There was pure glee on your face, in your body and voice as your feet touched the grass. Squealing you carefully move around, skipping one way then the other.

You were a curious thing to Feitan, who found nothing interesting in the nature that surrounded the house. But you, running around in circles until you collapsed out of breath, loved it. You looked serene, stunning, just taking the breath away from Feitan as he watched you. You were perfect. 

It hurt. It hurt. Feitan's convinced he was dying. Heaviness weighing on his chest and shoulders as he watched you. He didn't know how to be what you need. For the first time since kidnapping you he questions his judgment seeing how happy you were being outside, something he'd stolen from you. He wondered if he could give you the love you deserved when he'd never experienced it himself. While he hated himself. While he hated what was inside his darkened mind compared to the light that was you. So ethereal and kind, unlike him whose hands would forever be tainted. 

Unbeknownst to you, Feitan retreated within himself while you basked in the summer sun. 

-

Five weeks ago Feitan kissed you. He'd taken you outside and it'd been one of the best days of your life. You were certain it was the turning point in the relationship but- it wasn't. Things weren't worse by any means, but he treated your touch like the plague. 

It felt like a continuous stab to the heart, every minute of the day at this point. You felt stupid. After a week of attempting physical contact in bed or on the couch, you gave up not wanting to further embarrass yourself. And slowly the conversation died out. He stopped eating meals at the table. Staying as far away as possible in bed, you began moving your pillows back up to the attic, which caused him to intervene. Making it clear you weren't permitted to do that, he locked the door to the attic shortly after.

He left two weeks ago for an important job. You only knew he was okay because Phinks stopped by to check on you and bring food. It took everything in you not to ask Phinks for advice, you'd only met him in passing and Feitan was... absurdly possessive. Even his closest 'friend' couldn't get within a foot of you without facing Feitan's wrath. 

So you spent the days alone re-reading a book because you can't quite pay attention to it. You spend too long staring out the window by the front door, yearning pathetically from the couch. Knowing there were cameras kept you from crying for a strange reason you couldn't pinpoint, perhaps wanting to seem strong if he checked in. 

You think it's Friday, 16 days since Feitan left. Time blended together, especially when he wasn't there to mark the calendar. 

Frustration bubbled in your chest as you threw your towel into the corner of the bathroom. Your wet hair seeps into your nightgown, purple hues taking over the blue sky. You want to throw your shampoo, then your body wash you think. For a second you felt the appeal of thrashing your fist into the sink mirror. How good that would feel, you'd have control over something. 

Breathe in. Out.

You count in your head, staring at your reflection with disgust. This would show him, right? You thought about him finding you all bloody, the panic that would consume him, and hopefully guilt too. 

Tears prick your eyes, you huff moving back. Your reflection blurred. Annoyance grew, controlled her until-

SLAM. The sound of the front door closed suddenly, announcing that Feitan was back- and in the manner the door slammed, told you he wasn't alone. 

You scamper out of the bathroom, practically forgetting your prior plans, needing to catch a glimpse of Feitan.

In his arms, he carried an unconscious woman bound and gagged. 

Your stomach plummeted. 

He glanced your way once before disappearing down to the basement. 

Lips trembling, you stumbled forward, acting against better judgment. The air leading down to Feitan's torture room was dense and metallic scented. Rotted and death-like. You hated it down there, you felt bile rise up into your throat but you pushed through the fear that begged you to turn back. 

You stood hidden behind the doorway, peaking in just so you could see Feitan had already finished tying her down in the chair. You weren't sure if he felt your presence as if he did he made no effort to greet you. Did he not miss you? Your fists clench as you rake across the battered woman, taking her in. She was beautiful. Fuck. The only relief you felt was that she sat in that chair- meaning she wasn't here to replace you. Feitan hadn't put you in that chair ever. 

You stepped through the doorway as Feitan picked up a knife from a table.

Feitan's head snapped in your direction. His body language went taut, surprised, so he hadn't noticed you. He'd been too wrapped up in the woman who passed you in beauty in every way possible. Did he notice that as he looked at you now? Self conscious thoughts attack your mind as you drop your head. 

"You're- you want to watch?" His voice was filled with hope, not that you noticed. You heard it as disgust by having you in the room.

You nod, drop into your chair beside the door, one you hadn't sat in, in five weeks. 

For the first time he didn't need to remind you to watch his every action. 

Your eyes couldn't be pried from his hands. He wondered if you were even blinking. What happened for this change? Feitan wracked his brain as he cut into the woman. He didn't notice what he was doing, hardly listening to her cries and shit information spilling from her lips. Did something happen to you? Phinks said you were fine. Feitan's thoughts flick to his recent closed-off behavior, knowing it had to be upsetting you. Shit. That was it, right? He moved on to more cuts, more stabs to bleed his prisoner dry. She was saying things he already knew, he told Chrollo this woman would be useless, so this was a waste. Why were you choosing to watch this? He wanted to look at you but also needed to finish work, for once torturing another being was boring him. He wanted to get back to you, needed to talk to you, apologize even. 

SLAM. 

You were reeling- unable to contain yourself as you stormed from the room. One second your eyes were flickering from floor to the captive's body following Feitan's every movement, to watching the walls of the basement fly by as you raced towards a bathroom. 

Disgust curdled inside you. Anger wrenched at your limbs. You fumed as you remembered how he touched that woman's body as if torturing her was a sensual dance. It made you sick to see how his fingers would flit along parts of her skin that you dreamed he'd touch on yourself.  He hadn't looked at you! You gagged over the toilet, head pounding as your body attempted to heave bile from your stomach. Dizzied with jealousy and hurt, you want to cry. Maybe attempt to slap Feitan if he'd let you. You think of your idea with the mirror, that could work.

Feitan stood outside the door, as soon as you opened it, you walked face first into his chest. Out of reflex you shoved him back, wide eyed at him. 

"What's wrong? Throw up?" There was concern written all over him. Actual legitimate emotion, softness in his face as he inched closer. 

"Dry heaved." You said, unable to hold back the snark in your tone. 

"Okay?" 

You glared, confidence surging within you as all you could see was green. Feitan took a step back, surprised. "Seriously?" You huffed, "Just go back to your work." 

As you turn to leave him standing dumbfounded in the hall to head upstairs, his hand wrapped around your bicep. You're pulled back with force that makes you lose your breath. Your back's forced against the stone wall, Feitan caging you between his arms. "What is wrong with you?"

You swallow, the lump in your throat refusing to go. You felt instant shame with yourself but yet- didn't he deserve your anger? Was he really that dense with your emotions? Squaring yourself, you wouldn't back down, "I'm fine. Just.. go back to her." 

Oh! "Funny girl." Feitan cackled. A shallow, chill inducing laugh escaped his lips. 

Incredulously you shook your head, "Why are you laughing?"

He pushed himself off the wall and away from you. Still fucking laughing. 

You balled your fists and walked over to him, fuming. "Stop it!" He let you hit his chest with your fists, let you throw your little temper tantrum as amusement danced in his dark eyes. 

It was when tears began to fall did he finally compose himself. Feitan wiped the stray tears and wouldn't let you look away from him, hand possessively holding your jaw. "Jealous." He smirked. "My silly girl jealous over my work. Work, Y/N."

"I-It's not that- not the same. You've.. You've never brought a girl back here before." Oh god if only you could curl up under a blanket and hide, shame crossing your face, "It's not funny." 

"How is it not? You're jealous over someone who will die."

"You're touching her." You spat, "You don't touch me, barely. Not after.. I thought." Taking a deep breath you collected yourself before beginning, "Since you moved me into your room, since we kissed and fell asleep together, you act like it never happened and ignore me for weeks. So yes I'm jealous of her, you're touching her so gently and in places I want you to touch me."

Your confession threw Feitan off his axis, processing your words at a million miles an hour yet it was like he stared at you brain dead. He really fucked this up. "I'm not being gentle. I'm torturing her." He did not understand how you thought he was being intimate with a prisoner, it killed him to stay away from you. 

"But you brush along her so gently before making cuts, I thought I was going to die!" And he'd skipped past the part where you brought up the kiss and how he'd held you. Of course, "I'm going to go take a nap."

He let you go, watching your dejected form march up the wooden stairs. His brows furrowed over what the fuck just happened. He'd let you storm off and speak to him in a way he'd never imagine you would.  

Feitan clenched his fists. He wanted to follow after you but there was one final thing he needed to take care of. 

Red cascaded down the front of the woman as he slit her throat. Her tears and pleading only fueling the fire started within him. He stripped himself of his gear, leaving him blood free to chase after you.

You don't move from where you lay under the covers in his bed, but Feitan knew you weren't asleep. He pads to the bed, carefully sitting on the edge next to you.

"Y/N."

You don't respond.

He sighed, "She's dead." You visibly tensed. 

You begrudgingly sit up knowing you've been caught, looking at him with reddened eyes. "Oh."

Feitan tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear, "Since our kiss, I don't know how to act around you."

His omission makes you frown, "I don't understand."

"When you said you felt for me how I felt for you.. made me happy. You kissed me back, wanted me to hold you. I didn't expect it, thought you'd regret it later so I ran."

"I thought you regretted it." 

"Never."

"I feel.. dumb." You said. 

"Little foolish. But, I like that. Your jealousy is cute." He smirked, "But no reason to be anymore, okay?" You nod, scooting closer to him. Feitan tucks an arm around you, cradling the side of your head, "Was happy you came down to watch but, guess I know why now."

"Maybe I can.. slowly come down for little bits? I- don't like it but, you like it when I watch you work." You're burning, nauseas, because the last thing you wanted was to listen to screams, to bones breaking, to the noises that'd keep you up at night. But it would be for Feitan.

"I would like that." He nodded with sick excitement behind his eyes. 

Silence. Softened smiles. Fluttering heart beats as a thick tension develops between you two. He was staring at your lips, your neck, and you couldn't tear yourself away from him. Closer, you silently lean in as your breathing turns heavy. You were sure he could hear your hammering heart beat as if it'd burst from your chest.

The gap closed. Your lips meet in a dance of uncertainty as self consciousness absorbs your minds until it bursts from need. Feitan was cold, certain as he pressed his lips hard to yours over and over, teeth tugging on your bottom lip. On fire as you gasp from the pain, metallic blood enters your mouth as Feitan's tongue pushes its way in. He explored you as his fingers dig into your side, your tongue dancing along his as electricity runs through your veins. You think your whole body is trembling, or maybe it was his as the kiss turned desperate, teeth gnashing, tongues shoved down the other's throat as saliva mixed; once light kisses turned to an all out way for the two of you to claim the other. 

Feitan helped your legs wrap around his waist before he flipped you underneath him hovering over you on the bed. His whimpers against your mouth were the greatest thing you think you'll ever hear. And his need to control you, to possess you as his made your head go cloudy with want as his mouth worked against yours. He was consuming you as his confidence grew. That pit in his stomach growing with the certainty of your feelings, the change of the tide after nine months, that he felt. You wanted him. You understood everything he'd done had been to show you his feelings. So now he'd claim you like he should have weeks ago, rather than worry about the kiss. 

Atop you, he watched with dark glee how you panted, mewled for him as he pulled away to watch you. You clambered for him as you were out of breath, saliva dripping from the side of your lips. In a swift motion he lifted your torso and pulled your shirt from your body, and as he pushed you back he leaned down entranced by your bare skin. He bit into your collarbone, licked along the mark that broke skin. You'd gasped in surprise, fingers twisting into his top, tears glistening in your eyes. 

He continued to mark you, your cries music to him as he broke more of your skin with his teeth. Blood trickling only to be licked up by Feitan. You'd be littered with hickeys in the morning and the thought of you all bruised up made his cock twitch. Feitan slowly nibbled along one of your hardened nipples, studying how your body reacted. You were a desperate little thing he learned quickly as he sucked on your nipples, groping and molding your breasts with his strong fingers. Already quaking- how pathetic. 

Feitan began to wonder if you'd done this before, because in the year he'd watched you, you never brought someone home or went to another's. But a possessive streak hits him and he doesn't want to know, because no one else would ever have you from here on out. He was going to make your cunt into the shape of his cock, make it so you'd never want or need anyone else. 

"Fei," You whined, and the usage of a nickname made his head snap up to meet your lidded eyes. Your hips bucked against his as he straddled you and the discomfort of his hardened cock in his slacks began to gnaw at his brain. 

As his fingers begin to toy with your waist band, he lets himself wonder if this was a dream. He'd have been as patient as you needed him to be. So to think everything he dreamed about for almost 2 years was coming to fruition? He stripped himself of his top and slacks, leaving only his underwear. 

Fear clamped in the back of your mind as if you needed to escape. But as the cool air met your exposed entrance as Feitan tossed your boxers away, you relinquished yourself to him. He admired you from his knees as he pushed your thighs apart. 

"Tell me what you want." A mischievous glint shone in his eyes and you shivered. 

"Y-you Feitan." You squirmed under his heavy gaze, desperately wanting to cover up. He inspected every inch of you, but he always came back to the scar on your rib cage that held his name. His property. 

Feitan shuddered hearing how lustfully you spoke his name, he liked this sudden change in dynamic. Liked how you begged for him so easily as he stroked so close but not quite at your most sensitive areas. Your pussy glistened, liquid coating your folds and slowly dripping to the sheets. 

You could only see his dark eyes as your world spun on its axis. You feel him between your legs, tongue leisurely licking along your aching clit. Taking his time he listened to your whimpers, to your gasps as he changed the pace. You're grasping the sheets, knuckles white as your entrance fluttered in want. He latched onto your clit, and you cried as he suckled and teeth brushed along your sensitive bundle of nerves. Working you up to a climax, he presses his palms into your legs to keep them open. You're shaking. You're desperately trying to escape an onslaught your poor brain and body had never experienced before. It wasn't longer before you cried out, visiting turning black then white as you came, hips jerking and your lips babbling nonsense. Feitan continued to lick helping you come down, pride beaming from his chest. Internally thanking Phinks for all the times over the years he pushed him into sharing someone's bed, that he needed practice, all for you even if he didn't know it yet. 

You moaned, furiously blinking before his tongue dances along your folds, licking and sucking at your cum like it's the best meal he'd ever taste. Tongue prodding at your entrance, his gaze flicks up to see you watch him in awe and pleasure, as he licks along your walls. Your clit is puffy as he worked his way back up, a finger delicately toying at your entrance as you gasp. More? 

Feitan hummed against your clit, liquid pleasure pulsing within him but all he could do was grind against the mattress, he wanted to see you come apart some more. You babble something incoherent as he brings a finger up and covers it in your arousal, gently sucking still. His middle finger sunk in with ease, your back arching as he fills you. He adds another. He smiled so cruelly as your heat welcomed them so greedily. 

"Tight cunt." Feitan groaned, "So wet. Taste so good." He hummed against your clit and the vibrations made you whimper. 

You're moaning for him like he was your life line. Sucking him in and begging for more and you were starting to wonder which way was up or down. His tongue oscillating in mesmerizing circles along your clit, his fingers curling along your gummy walls that beg him for more. You were on the edge. You felt pleasure building you up so deliciously, "Fei, more, more, feel good." 

For a second he froze as one of your hands tangle in his hair, but seeing you blissed out in his bed- he made you nearly sob as added a third finger stretching you apart as he cruelly sucked your clit until your moans are cries, gasping and loud, as if you were in pain. But instead, once more, ecstasy blossomed in your abdomen right as you thought you'd burst, and tears fell fast. You came on his tongue and fingers, squirt dribbling, your cunt fluttering around him as his motions slowed. 

"Pretty." He cooed as he watched your writhing body with curiosity. 

A confused cry left you as his touch disappeared, but you watched as he stripped himself of his underwear, finally leaving him bare. 

"Gonna fuck you. All mine." 

You whimper as he settles between your legs, his thick cockhead prodding at your slick entrance. 

"Be good and take me." Feitan grunted as he began to push in. 

"F-Fei- Virgin- I-I'm a-" You cried as you thrashed on the sheets, feeling as if Feitan was splitting you in two as he sheathed himself inside you.

An onslaught of butterflies swarmed in his stomach and could have come on the spot from your words alone. A virgin? He knew you were meant to be his, and him yours. 

"There you go, tight cunt for me to fill." He pressed his lips to yours, knots in his core tightened as he thrusted deeper, hips to the hilt as he was finally claiming you, filling you. 

He watched your eyes go wide, eyes spasming from the intrusion. Your gummy walls squeezing his cock so good as she attempted to accommodate his size. Feitan swallowed hard, trying to stifle his own noises, desperately wanting to be so far in you that you'd never think of anything else. 

Blood trickled from your cunt and onto the sheets and it stirred Feitan's hips into a bruising pace as he felt the warmth of your virgin blood surrounding his cock. Liked knowing what he did to you, watching his outline in your stomach as he pushed down, a slimy grin forming on his lips. 

He wanted to break you. But he felt himself losing composure as he pounded into your tight cunt. The two of you consumed with warmth and fire spreading along your nerves as together, you chased an intense high consummating some sick love. 

"Mine." You were losing your mind as Feitan grunted those words, "Mine." He snapped his hips and you gasped from the intrusion of his cock against your womb, "Tell me who you belong to."

Your pretty eyes were hazy, rolling back into your head as your poor fucked out brain couldn't comprehend. His cock felt so perfect inside your pussy that coated him in your cream from the bliss you felt. 

"You!" You cry out, "Fei- Feitan. You! I'm yours." You sobbed, only his name on your tongue and on your mind. 

Feitan relished in the sight of his cock fucking into you, disappearing into your depth, his hips flushed with your own. And each time he pulled out, the sight of your bloodied cum on his length made him shudder. He gathered your discharge on his thumb and used it to coat your clit, relentlessly rubbing over it. His hips started to move again, desperately forcing himself deeper as he played with your bud. Your cunt spasming around him again as you attempted to escape his onslaught of overstimulation. 

"T-Too much- can't Fei-"

"Never push me away," He threatened, leaning down to nip at your ear, "Will punish you."

You whimpered but the way your cunt opened up for him told him all he needed to know-- the pain, the helplessness, he was turning you on. Straightening again he continued to fuck into you, swiping over your clit, far past the point of pleasing you, rough thrusts hitting your g-spot over and over. You let out an honest to god cry as your third orgasm hit, words thick and hard to understand but Feitan understood how you begged and pleaded for him. 

Feitan gripped your hips harder so he could drive into you at a relentless pace, throwing his head back, looking up to the ceiling as he gave you all he had. You pulsed around him all swollen and tight and he knew he wouldn't last much longer,

"Gonna fill you up. Take my cum in your pussy. Mine. My pussy- you're mine." Feitan was past the point of keeping quiet as his possessiveness slammed into him full force. The thought of his cum painting your insides and leaking out... 

Falling forward he crushed his mouth onto yours, giving several long thrusts before his vision whited out as he came. Cock twitching as he filled you to the brim, hips stuttering all the way against you, hot, thick ropes of cum coating you. Claiming you. Becoming one with you. 

His pace slowed but his lips never left yours, the two of you panting into each other as you came down. Feitan pulled away, resting his forehead to yours, your eyes meeting. Vulnerability. Like truly seeing each other for the first time. He stroked your cheekbones carefully, trying to sense any fear. But nothing. Your eyes shone with a million stars as you shuddered, staring at him, hips twitching as he pulled out. Leaving you emptier than you'd ever been. 

Feitan pulled away, dropping back to his knees, carefully stroking along where he'd carved his name into your skin, stroking down your waist then to your thighs. His touch cold, addictive as he thumbed along your leaking folds, his cum beginning to drip down. "Mine."

"Yours."

He stared at you before his cheeks tinted pink, "I'm yours too. Only yours. Don't care about stupid woman I tortured, just my job. You're my.. life. Won't give you space again, won't run if I get scared, this was all my fault, I didn't want to bring you pain. I'll make it up to you." 

Your eyes widen with love filling them, a stupidly happy grin washing over you from the gravity of his words, "I love you." 

Feitan froze like he was in head on collision, by your proclamation. Love. Did he deserve that? No. He didn't deserve your love but he couldn't deny the happiness he felt in his chest and how his pulse skyrocketed, "Love you as well."

Feitan laid at your side, stroking along your body as sleep eventually overcame you. You seemed so innocent, so small lying in his arms like that. Watching you sleep was a favorite pastime, but knowing you slumbered with his cum buried in you was enough to entrance him back into your gravity. 

Your passed out form hardly reacted to his touches, soft moans as he slid his fingers in and out of your leaking cunt. Little twitches as he sucked on your nipples. And you stayed asleep as he slipped his re-hardened cock back inside of your abused cunt, full heartedly welcoming him in. 

The bed creaked and thumped against the wall as he let loose, let his grunt and sobs loudly leave him as he fucked you full once more. This was heaven. Pure bliss. Not even torturing made him feel this way, so high, so invincible. Feitan indulged in you until he was a whiny overstimulated mess, heaving atop you and leaving even more marks. He fucked you until he couldn't cum anymore, dumping two more loads into your pussy that became swollen and tight, a perfect fit for his cock. 

It was then that he could finally sleep, curled up next to your limp body holding you flush. He pet your hair possessively as you subconsciously cuddled into him further, blood pounding in his ears. The fact you'd been jealous made his chest soar. You hated someone for having his attention because you wanted it. You loved him for him. And it was then that he could finally drift off to sleep, content knowing you were filled with him. His.

[juleswritesstuff]

Relax

Poly!JegulusxFem!Reader

warning: smut

Hi ! This is the first smut fic that I'm more than satisfied with, so I really hope you will enjoy it 💗

English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

You were stressed. 

You were so fucking stressed, that you either weren't even able to function properly due to sleep deprivation, or you were a nightmare to be around, snapping about every little thing.

James and Regulus noticed, obviously.

They always noticed when there was something wrong with you.

Regulus was too observant for his own good, and James had such empathy that he could sense the slightest changes in your mood from a mile away.

And, maybe, the fact that you had literally screamed at an owl for interrupting your studying when the poor bird was just trying to deliver some mail to its owner in the middle of the Great Hall could've been an indicator as well, you weren't sure, really.

So when they basically cornered you in your dorm room, locking the door with a charm and sporting twin expressions of concern, you knew it was probably worse than you had noticed.

“I know, I know. I just need to finish this essay and then I'll be all yours, ok ?” you say as you retrieve the book you need for your paper. You try to walk past them to reach the door but, predictably, they stop you.

“Where do you think you're going ?” James questions, raising an eyebrow.

“To the library James, where else would I be fucking going ?” you snarl.

Regulus gives you a pointed look, and your shoulders sag in response.

You knew you were being a bit difficult to deal with, and hurting the two boys you loved the most in the world was the last thing you wanted. But all the pressure you had been under the past few weeks was catching up to you and you were a ticking bomb ready to explode.

“Sorry. I'm sorry Jamie, but I really need to finish this essay” you say with a pleading look, begging him with your eyes to let you go.

“You've been in the library all day everyday for the past week, Y/n. Don't you think it's time for a break ?” Regulus asks. His voice is so gentle and so delicate that you really just want to curl into a ball and cry.

“I can't” you say sighing “the essay is due Thursday. I only have two days to work on it, I can't afford to waste time” you say as your hands run through your hair in frustration.

“So spending time with us would be time wasted ?” the Gryffindor asks, lifting his eyebrows as a flash of disbelief passes through his eyes.

“Yes !” You scream in anger, and only then you realize the gravity of your words. It takes one look at James’ hurt expression, and Regulus’ cold stare.

“I mean, no ! That's not-” You let out a shaky breath as you sit on the bed, your throat tight.  “That is not what I meant, I swear. You know it, you know I didn't mean that” 

Your head is hung low and you can't even look at them in the face.

You were feeling like shit, but that didn't mean that you had to make them feel awful too.

You felt guilt crawling up to every fiber of your body.

“I'm sorry, I'm being a bitch” you say, and you feel your eyes start to water, gaze still glued to the floor of your room.

Your eyes fix on Regulus as he kneels down in front of you, searching your gaze until it locks in his, and you're not able to pull away from the stormy gray of his eyes.

“You're not being a bitch, my love. You're just stressed. You need to relax” he says as he tucks your hair behind your ear, letting the pads of his fingers dance on the skin of your cheek.

“I'm not stressed, I promise I can manage until-”

“Baby, you told a second year to fuck off because he tripped in front of you, and made you late for class” James says with an humorless chuckle as he sits down on the bed next to you.

Your eyes snap to his, incredulous.

“I- No that's-” you look at him, horrified “Did I ?” 

He doesn't answer, but the look of pity and worry on his face tells you everything.

You didn't even remember. And a second year ? They were basically a child. You cussed out a bloody child. 

You needed to get a grip, and apologize. Oh, you needed to apologize so much.

“I'm so sorry, I-” 

“It's ok, Y/n. Really. You're under a lot of pressure and no one blames you for being a bit snappy, but you need a break” Regulus says, coming up to sit on the bed too, together with you and James.

“But-”

“Let me rectify. You need a break now” he says, and all the protests that were ready to come out of your mouth die in your throat.

“You're right” you say beyond exhausted “and, trust me, I know you are but the essay-”

“Remus will handle it” James says nonchalantly, not even batting an eye.

“What ?” you ask confused, blinking rapidly.

“You two have Divination together, don't you ? He will be more than happy to help you with your paper” he states, grinning slightly.

“But James-” you try to protest. You don't want Remus to do extra work just because you couldn't handle a bit of stress.

“No ‘buts’, darling. He's already on it” he says. His arm lifts up to move your hair from your shoulder, exposing your neck.

“What do you mean he's already on it ?” You ask confused as you try not to shudder at the contact of his fingers with the sensitive skin of your throat. And then your eyes go wide as it clicks on your brain.

Oh, these two.

“You planned this, didn't you ?” you ask, bewildered, as you turn to Regulus. 

You would expect something like this from James, sure, he was the king of interventions when something was wrong.

But Regulus ? 

Damn, you must've been a real nightmare to be around.

“I told you” he says, inching closer and closer, until your lips are a breath away “you need to relax” he breathes, and then he is kissing you so deeply that the air gets knocked out of your lungs.

His lips are soft, so soft, and needy, and hungry and everything you needed in that moment.

You part your lips and his tongue slips in, caressing yours as he deepens the kiss even more and a soft moan leaves your mouth, because, fucking hell, you missed this, and you missed him and his relentless mouth as it works against yours, and the way his teeth graze your bottom lip, softly, sucking right after in a soothing manner.

And you missed James and his mouth on your neck, where he knew exactly where to kiss, to lick, to gently suck and taste your skin, as more delightful sounds leave your lips, making your head spin, as his wonderful hands travel all over your body and make you squirm and shiver in the best way.

“So this is your idea of relaxation ?” you ask breathlessly as you part from Regulus’ lips only to feel them trace a path from the corner of your mouth, to your cheek, then your jaw,  and ending on your neck, on the exact place opposite to James, and he starts licking too. You could swear you were in heaven as breathless whimpers escaped from your kiss bruised lips.

“I'd say it's a pretty good idea, don't you think baby ?” James asks, lifting his head from your neck to inch closer to your mouth.

“Absolutely” you and Regulus answer in a chorus. And you would've laughed in any other situation, really, but then James' lips collided with yours and every thought in your brain just ceased to exist.

It was just him, and his fantastic, amazing, wonderful lips as they chased yours hungrily.

“Shit, I- missed this” you say in between kisses, as soft needy sounds echo through the room.

“Tell us about it” Regulus says with a chuckle, lifting his head from your neck.

His eyes are hazy, as are yours and James’, and his lips are swollen, and red, and plump and-

“Don't be mean Reggie” James says, leaving your lips alone to focus on your jaw. His tone doesn't have any bark, he's just teasing.

“Oh, but you like it when I'm mean, don't you ?” The Slytherin teases further, and in a heartbeat they're kissing, devouring each other’s mouths like they were starved.

It's a lot of tongue, and a lot of teeth, and a lot of lust and fire, and you were left speechless in front of such a sight.

Salazar only knows how much you had missed this, missed them.

How could you give so much of your time to essays and papers, and neglect the amazing boys you hand in front of you ?

You must’ve been crazy, really.

“Enjoying the show, love ?” James asks with a smirk as he trails kisses down Regulus' neck.

“You know I always do” you say, backing up a bit farther on the bed and taking off your uniform, because there were definitely too many fucking clothes in the way of your 'relaxation'.

“James, baby, your mouth is a gift sent from heaven, trust me” Regulus says, voice shaking from pleasure as he  pushes James away gently “but you do remember who this is about, right ?” 

“As if I could ever forget” James says with a grin and they both turn to you and notice that you're halfway undressed, the first buttons of your shirt undone and your legs pressed together so embarrassingly tight.

Your cheeks are flushed and your lips are plump and bruised and you're on cloud nine, because after a horrible week full of no Regulus and no James they're now both in front of you, taking each other’s clothes off.

Oh, to be graced by this sight every minute of every day for the rest of your life.

And Merlin, you really need to thank whoever invented Quidditch, because-

“Bloody hell, you both look like you were sculpted by the Gods” you say as your mouth waters. Their bodies are a work of art, two of the seven wonders of the earth. All those lean muscles, slender waists and their backs.

Oh God, their backs.

You wanted to swallow them whole.

Both of them, preferably at the same time.

They grin at your comment, and then they're both on the bed by your side, James on your right and Regulus on your left.

“Speaking of being sculpted by Gods…” James says as his hands go to your shirt to unbutton the remaining buttons, and then Regulus helps you take it off completely,  leaving a few open mouthed kisses on your neck as he does.

“Lay back baby, would you ?” the Slytherin asks gently, but his voice is so low and so full of lust and desire that a shiver ripples through your whole body.

You don't even notice James unclasping your bra before your back makes contact with the bed beneath you.

“Oh, look at you. So perfect, so fucking perfect” the Gryffindor whispers on your lips before kissing you and taking you to a whole other world.

You can feel Regulus’ mouth tracing your neck, leaving marks you were sure would be every shade of red and purple by the following day.

He gives attention to every inch of your skin as James makes sure to leave you breathless, and senseless, just by swiping his tongue against yours.

Then you feel Regulus lips on your breast and your head starts spinning, the breath is knocked out of your lungs and moans of pure bliss fill the room.

“Fuck- Reggie-” you whimper on James’ mouth.

Your hand goes to Regulus’ hair, cradling your fingers through it as he delicately sucks on the sensitive skin of your nipple, leaving tiny kitten licks, soft kisses, light grazes of his teeth, and then the gentle suction begins again and you could literally melt.

“Merlin, baby, the sounds you make” James whispers on your lips and then proceeds to make his way down, hovering over your other breast and then diving in, with Regulus’ same gentleness.

The warmth of their mouths on your sensitive skin, the feeling of their back muscles under your hands as you let them roam on their bodies, feeling every curve, every chiseled corner, it was a feeling you missed for a week.

And now it's here, they're here, in front of you, and you could literally die on the spot and be happy.

But they seem to disagree as they both lift their heads up, sharing a languid kiss that makes you even wetter than you already are.

Because, fucking hell, you were drenched since the first time they put their lips on you today.

You went on for so long without feeling their touch that as soon as their skin came in contact with yours your body started burning, finally alive again.

They break apart, slowly, and without saying a word they start going down, and down, and down, leaving open mouthed kisses on your  stomach, on your hips, on your thighs. 

“You don't have to” you tell them, because really they don't. Up until that moment everything had been about you. You wanted them to feel good too. You wanted to make them feel good. 

“But we want to” Regulus says as he leaves kisses on your inner thigh. Soft, gentle, delicate kisses. James does the same on your other thigh.

“Do you want to ?” the Gryffindor asks, slightly lifting his head from your thighs to see your answer.

“I really fucking do” you admit, your hands in their hair, fingers cradling softly through their locks.

“Perfect” says Regulus, inching closer and closer to where you need him, need them, the most “now be a good girl, and keep your legs spread for us, ok ? Don't think about anything. Let loose baby, you deserve it”

And then he dives in, licking a long strip along your folds as your world shakes with the power of ten thousand earthquakes.

The moan you let out could probably be heard from a mile away, but you couldn't give less than a shit, because Regulus is eating you out like it's his last meal. He's ravenous, and eager, and gentle at the same time, and so so good, and-

“Fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck” your curses mix with whimpers and moans and you never want it to stop, ever. You wish you could remain in this bliss for eternity.

And then Regulus opens his mouth.

“James, James, Jamie, come here love” he says breathlessly. Mouth covered in your essence and eyes hazy and a fucked out expression on his face. 

You swear you could come on the spot.

James, who had been busy worshiping your thighs, doesn't let Regulus tell him twice.

At the feeling of James’ tongue right on your little bundle of nerves they're so familiar with, you see stars, you see whole new universes.

“Fuck- you taste so good, baby” he moans.

“So sweet”

“So fucking sweet”

You arch your back as moans keep tumbling out of your lips.

You're breathless, a mass of choked out sounds and incoherent words. You're burning alive, the fire in your veins so strong and powerful that you feel like you could melt.

And then you make the mistake of looking down at them, right between your thighs, as they feast on your pussy like they were born for it.

“Oh, fuck- I'm-” you don't even have the time to finish your sentence because both their tongues are on that sweet sweet spot that makes you see stars, sucking gently, and in a heartbeat the coil in your tummy snaps and you not only see stars, you see an entire galaxy.

Finally, after a week of pure torture, you find yourself in heaven with the two most beautiful angels right between your thighs.

Your breath is ragged, you're breathing heavily, and you're the most relaxed and content you had ever been in the past few days.

Your body feels like jelly, your legs shaking slightly.

You must've zoned out a bit after the most earth-shattering orgasm you've had in a while, because James and Regulus were now laying next to you, gently caressing your hair in a soothing manner.

“Welcome back” James says with the most beautiful smile ever.

“Was I out for long ?” you ask, blinking slowly.

The three of you are under the covers now, still very naked, and still very happy.

“Ten seconds max” Regulus tells you, his eyes soft, a fond expression on his face.

Merlin, he's so beautiful.

They're both so beautiful.

“You can sleep, love, it's okay” the Gryffindor says, as he softly strokes your cheek with the pads of his fingers.

“But-” 

“Everything is clean, we took care of it, as always” Regulus interrupts you sweetly.

You really had the best boyfriends in the world.

“God, I love you so much” you say sincerely.

“Oh, really ? Wouldn't have guessed that. What do you say, Reg ? Did you notice ?” James says teasingly as a grin grows on his lips.

“Would've never been able to guess, honestly” says the Slytherin, equally as teasing James.

“You twats, I was being serious” you say and then you realize your mistake.

“Don't you even try to make that joke right now” you warn them, especially James, who makes the gesture of zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key, but he has the stupidest most adorable smile on his face.

“We love you too, darling” says Regulus “but I think you should sleep now. It's getting late”

“Will you stay here ?” you ask, hopeful.

“Of course, love” James assures you. 

And that's how you fall asleep that night.

In a tangle of limbs and bodies, between your two very personal angels.

Divination essay long forgotten.

[revelboo]

I am LIVING for your starscream content, your writing style is absolutely magnetic and keeps me waiting for updates 24/7!! Thank you for your service to this fandom, you’re a godsend 🫡

Thank you!

Inside Out Pt 2

TFO Starscream x Reader

• “Stop making that sound or I’ll stop you,” he snarls, feeling your little hands touching everything inside him in a mad panic at being trapped in his canopy in alt mode. The threat works, though and those awful, sharp cries of terror that are clawing through his processor finally peter out until all he can hear is your ragged, frightened breathing. And even that rubs him the wrong way, because it is wrong. That unwanted sense of rightness that touching you brought him, tarnished by that fear and twisting about his spark. He hadn’t wanted to take you, but there was no leaving you. Something in him had settled the moment his servos had closed around you, chaining him even if he doesn’t understand it.

• The monster had become a jet again while holding you too tightly in a massive hand. You’d been sure you’d be crushed as he transformed around you, but somehow you’d found yourself awkwardly sprawled inside the jet when he was done, unharmed. That doesn’t explain why or where he’s taking you, though. Your throat is raw from screaming to be let go and you curl into a ball in the pilot’s seat, pressing your face into the side bolster. That feeling of familiarity and comfort whispers through you and you hate it, know it’s a lie, a trap.

• Striding through the base, he’s aware of optics on him and the human dangling from his servos and you’re thankfully silent without additional threats. Lip curling, his wings flare aggressively, meeting stares head on until they look away without questioning him. As the SIC, if he chooses to take this weak little organic, it might be questioned, but never to his face. You’re shaking again, breathing hitching oddly as he lets himself into his quarters and grits his denta. Trying to figure this out. Touching you reminds him of before the betrayal, when he’d been respected not just feared. It’s a curious sense of longing he’s not entirely sure he enjoys as he sets you down on his berth to try and sever that connection, but it’s still there, pulling at him. Calling to him. “What did you do to me?” He rasps, servos flexing angrily.

• He can feel whatever this is, too then. That’s not at all comforting as you look around for any escape short of flinging yourself off the high surface he’s placed you on. With the way he’s glaring at you, that option is beginning to have its appeal. “I’m not doing anything.”

• Hands slamming down on the berth on either side of you, guilt sizzles through him when you cry out and stumble back to fall. And then just stare up at him in a terror that makes him want to reach for you, soothe that fear away. He hates it even as he aches with that need. “Don’t lie,” he growls, unable to reach out to touch you, unable to back down. Chained to you against his will.

Previous

Next

[webslingingslasher]

https://www.tumblr.com/webslingingslasher/721605644038389760/pregnancy-scare-with-fratpeter-what-would-he-do?source=share

Is there ever a pregnancy scare after they're in the girlfriend phase?

*cleaning out my drafts. mentions of pregnancy and a slight suggestion of abortion.*

you groan at the gentle shake you're receiving and you shrug it off while half awake. you're unbelievably tired and the small window of rest you got wasn't enough.

'trouble? c'mon, get up.' peter's hand comes down rough on your backside, you whine and roll over. 'but i'm sleepy-eepy.' the warmth of peter's bed is ripped away from you, he's holding the blanket in his hands.

'now i'm cold.' and while it's not peter's fault and he's only doing what you asked, you feel a little frustrated at the knowledge of not being able to go back to sleep.

'if you get up now, i'll shower with you. ten, nine, eight, seven... that's my girl, super proud of you.'

you might've woken up grouchy, but peter set your mood right in the shower and now you keep giving his arm little kisses. 'my handsome man.' peter speaks into your hairline, 'it's just a white shirt, you heathen.'

you softly dig your teeth into the thick of his bicep while his aunt has her back turned mixing up a side salad. you pull back without a trace and talk into his skin. 'and my man looks so yummy in it.'

'see? that nap energized you more than you thought.'

'that or your precious mouth and nice way you use it on me.' peter gives you a charming smile. 'you're on a roll tonight, trouble.' you wrap your arms around his and give a final mark, it's time to be a smidge respectful in his childhood home.

peter breaks away to refill your wine glass and top may's off. you thank him with a small kiss, may thanks him by asking him to grab rolls from the oven.

---

there's a positive pregnancy test in your shaking hands. each time you blink it becomes more and more clear, you clutch your stomach as if you already had a month nine belly.

'fuck.'

what are you supposed to do?

tears fall fast, they hit your palms and positive test before you look around the bathroom. why are you alone? where's peter? you think of your boyfriend, you think of how royally fucked this makes things.

call it selfish but you wanted peter all to yourself for a few years and now you're jumping forward a hundred steps. 'fuck.' this isn't fair to either of you, you don't have it figured out yet.

you stare at the test one more time, you need to be sure. you close your eyes and count to ten, no matter how many times you try, the answer doesn't change.

'holy fucking shit, i'm-'

about to piss your pants. you fly up from the bed lightning fast, hightailing it to peter's bathroom before holding your head in your hands. you're drowsy and reminding yourself it was just a dream, but it felt so real.

but, no, just a dream. it's a dream because you're not pregnant. you just had your period... you just had it... it's only been... your stomach drops, why can't you remember? in four seconds you are wide, wide awake and you're going for your phone on peter's nightstand.

it's three in the morning and you haven't had a period in at least five weeks.

'peter, get up.' you're not soft spoken or gentle, you're full of terror and he's about to be too. you push at his arm roughly, it stirs him just enough you could break through the sleep.

'peter, get up right now.' a slow whine, you're not playing and his stubbornness is about to have you wake up the entire apartment complex. 'get the fuck up, peter.'

you're mean but it's the only thing stopping you from going full blown psycho and curling into a screaming, crying ball on his floor.

'peter,' you rush out his name one more time, this time he responds.

'what’s go-‘

'i think i'm pregnant and i'm about to freak the fuck out and i really, really need you to keep me from doing that right now.' it hits all at once, you try to breathe but you can't. it's peter's turn to fly up from the bed, he only goes as far as he needs to wrap you in a tight hug.

'trouble,' the name makes you sob, you really are trouble. 'shh, you're okay, we're okay.' it's not fair of peter to hold you calmly as if he's not scared shitless himself. 'we're so fucked, peter. i ruined everything.'

your mind is spinning and your boyfriend is keeping you grounded. 'nothing is ruined, nothing is fucked. we're okay, i promise we're okay.' no, peter's not thinking how you are. he doesn't understand what you just did to you both.

'i did, i really, really did. we just graduated, we don't live together, you're still waiting for that research position to open and my boyfriend slash baby daddy is going to die because he's also spider-man.'

it's all ruined. you don't even know what you ruined and that's the worse part, you ended it before it started.

'hey, trouble. one thing at a time, okay? we have time to figure it out if we need to. do we need to go get a test?' you nod, the idea of your dream turning into reality makes you want to sob.

'speaking of dying, i killed the last three plants ethan gave me. so, how nice is that? a dead dad and a mom who kills.' peter hugs you tighter, he wants to push all your suffering into him right now. you go one further, this is the final nail in the coffin.

'what if i'm not ready to be a mom?'

'we have time to figure-' he doesn't understand. 'no, what if i'm not ready to be a mom?' a soft kiss on your forehead tells you he read between the lines, it also tells you he doesn't resent you for the idea.

'i'm here for you, okay? i'm here for whatever decision you make and we'll figure it out together. we're a team. and i promise you, trouble, i'm not dying. kid or no kid, i won't let spider-man be the thing that does me in.'

you want this with peter, you really do. just... not now. a baby this young was never in the cards, you feel like you shouldn't be in this position but you played stupid games and won an unexpected prize.

'fuck. peter, i really think i might be pregnant.'

peter's being a strong front because you need it but he's just as unprepared as you are. 'have you been feeling sick?' you shake your head, you've felt normal until this very moment.

'i had i dream i was staring at a positive test and it felt so real that it woke me up and then i couldn't remember the last time i had my period so i looked at my phone and we're charting into week five.'

peter almost lets a curse slip, he contains it for you. 'okay, we're okay. i promise we're okay, we just need to make sure if you're pregnant or not. can you wait until morning or do we need to go now?'

peter using 'you' and 'pregnant' in the same sentence makes you want to throw up and you can't blame it on potential morning sickness. you're disgusted in yourself. this wasn't the timeline.

you couldn't last another few hours in this state, you'd go mad in record timing. 'now. right now.' in under a minute peter is stuffing a hoodie over your head and a shirt over his. you feel yourself on the verge of a breakdown but peter's outstretched hand tells you he's here for it.

---

'what if you resent me in like...' peter's already shaking his head, you can't put a date on it, what if it's now? 'wait, is it already happening? do you hate me?'

peter stops with you outside of the bodega right up the road from his apartment, he had been listening to your spiral the entire time with a calm demeanor.

'stop. i know this wasn't the plan and i know this isn't what we wanted right now but i don't want you thinking i could ever hate you or blame you for this. i wish i could make you feel better about this, trouble. i love you, i love you more than i have ever loved anything. i love you more than i thought was possible. i love you more than any song or book or movie could ever describe. and guess what? i'd love our kid just the same. shit, maybe even more cause you gave me one.'

is it hormones or is it because that's the best thing he could've ever told you at this moment? you crush him in a hug, he's a little surprised but holds you just the same. 'thank you.' for the first time since you woke up, you're able to breathe.

peter doesn't say you're welcome because you don't have anything to thank him for. he's doing what he'd do if this was however many years in the future and when it was a bit more planned. 'i didn't bring my wallet.'

peter scoffs, 'you think i'd make you pay for this?'

'i already feel like a burden.'

'trouble.' you bite your tongue, if peter can be nice enough to hold a poker face, you can stop telling yourself he secretly hates you. you need an answer and it lies inside the shop in a little box.

peter's holding the test, you couldn't bring yourself to touch it. you're standing in front of the refrigerator section staring at the drink selection, more than half focused on your reflection instead. peter catches on and taps your hand, you blink awake and look at three different cans before your brain hurts.

'what should i get?'

'whatever you want, trouble.'

'i can't think.' you can't. it's either total silence and dissociation or racing thoughts, you don't know peace anymore. if you're carrying his child, peter can pick a drink for you.

'hm. are you in the mood for something flavored?'

sweet. sugary. something to coat your mouth with a lasting aftertaste even if the news you were about to receive was on the bitter side.

'yeah.' peter nixes the three shelfs of water. 'carbonated or not?' too much of a choice, you shrug half-heartedly. 'i don't know.' peter looks behind him, a different choice entirely.

when's the last time you had an icee?

you don't notice peter walk off, you slipped back into staring at yourself in a baggy hoodie. if you jumped forward six months, how tight would it be?

peter grabs a small cup, looks at the clear-blue box in his hand and grabs a large one instead. a mixture of cherry and coke, it's nearly freezing his hand. it's going to be enough to keep your mind in the land of the living.

you find peter, lean against his back and close your eyes, he makes small movements and allows you to rest your weight on him. you're tired. mentally and emotionally. 'trouble?' you perk up again, peter halfway turns to hand over a frozen drink big enough for four.

'a slushie?' you give it a taste, you sip it down until your throat burns. 'heck yeah. and look at that, you love it.' he's not wrong. you can't remember the last time you had one and this somehow just made things a little better.

'it's making me feel better.'

'see? everyone needs some sugar now and then.'

---

for someone who made peter get out of bed at three in the morning and force him down to the corner store for a pregnancy test, you sure can't stomach the idea of taking it.

if it's a no, it'll be the biggest breath of fresh air you've ever had. if it's a yes, you and peter's life is about to forever change and you don't think you're ready for that yet.

you might not get peter to yourself for a few years, but you have him tonight and that's comfort enough. 'ready?' you intertwine your fingers with peter as he asks and pulls you out the front door. it's a quiet walk back sharing your cup of sugar before you silently creep back inside his aunt's apartment.

'ready to pee?'

you shake your head, peter offers his laptop up. ten minutes into a show, you have to go. fifteen minutes, it's pressing. twenty and you're about to burst.

you're not ready for the answer.

you'd be a bad mom.

'i drank wine tonight, peter. that's so bad, i'm such a bad person.'

'you're not a bad person, trouble. guess what? no one knows they're pregnant until they know. it's not your fault you kept living life how you normally do.'

you might've fucked things up but you chose the best person to do it with.

'i have to pee.' for just a teeny, tiny second- peter's guard faults. he's just as scared of the results, it fills you with solace. you're not the only one here who doesn't want this, even if he won't tell you so.

'want me to come with?'

you shake your head and don't even look at the box when you swipe it from his desk. your hand shakes as you tear the blue plastic, it's dawned on you that this is the first time you've ever taken one. you never thought you’d be here.

you hold your eyes closed while you do it as if the results would show immediately. you snap the cap back into place and hide it behind you. starting a five minute timer, you wait on the answer to the future.

poking your head out from his bathroom you clear your throat. 'counting down.'

'how are you feeling? still doing okay?' you nod, you're really thankful he has your back tonight. it's nice to know that when you're truly falling apart, he's your backbone.

'i love you.'

'i love you too, sweetheart.'

you've been so good and so brave this whole time, you haven't cried once. but that just broke you and you can't place why. you try to will away the sting in your eyes, it doesn't work.

a broken whimper and you can't hold it in anymore.

you fall apart and before you could collapse to the floor, peter's tucking you into his chest and kissing your head. 'shh, you're okay. i promise you're okay, you have me. you'll always have me.'

'promise?'

'i promise, trouble. don't you remember? i couldn't let you go if i tried.'

'i know you said to stop but i'm really sorry and i need you to know that.' peter feels his heart break, he must've done something wrong at some point to make you think he could ever be upset at you for this.

but peter thinks you need him to accept it. 'it's okay. i know you're sorry and it's okay.' you relax and exhale into him, you stop your tears because crying is useless and it's only making you feel worse.

'i'm being so annoying, aren't i?'

'not in the slightest, do you see how long it took you to cry?'

you sniff and wipe away any stray tears before giving peter a pathetic pucker. 'kiss, please.' you're granted the slow and soft kind, the one that is just pure care and adoration.

'will you promise to keep having sex with me if i'm pregnant?'

peter can't hold in his laugh, you hear yourself and giggle with him. 'i promise, trouble. you can get it anytime. i mean, you already do, but with my baby in you- you'll get absolutely anything you want, whenever you want.'

'even if i want cheetos at two in the morning?' peter thinks that's light work, he graces your cheek with a kiss of the same kind. 'especially then.' it's not always rainbows and butterflies. 'what about when my belly pops, my hormones hit the ceiling, my feet are swollen, i'm hot all the time, and i just constantly scream at you?'

'you wouldn't do that.' well, you're not planning on it but you have no idea what effects this will have on you. 'but if you did, i'd take it in stride. if i was carrying around twenty pounds that made me constantly want to piss my pants, i'd be grumpy too.'

'we're gonna be so tired.'

'we already are.'

you chew on your bottom lip for a moment. 'what if i get stretch marks?'

'from growing my kid? couldn't think of anything sexier, trouble.'

it's not what was planned, but if this is how it'll be, you'll be okay. peter was right, you would figure it out. together.

'you have an answer for everything.'

'that's why you love me so much. you needed to find someone who could keep up with you.'

'and oh boy can you keep up and catch me.'

you match his smile, you feel good. you feel like things aren't so ruined now. 'it's my favorite thing to do.' you scrunch your nose up at him before giving a small jump to your alarm tone.

you end the timer. 'oh god.' that.

'don't undo what we just did. no more panic, we're okay with this, right? if it's a yes, we're doing this?'

it's terrifying to think you could be a parent in under a year but something tells you that you'll be just fine with peter by your side. 'yeah, we're doing this.'

peter nods towards his bathroom door, 'ready?'

for the first time tonight, you feel confident. 'yes.' you back up for the results, wrapping your palm around the middle until you're next to peter again.

you both take a deep breath and you finally get to see the answer.

peter exhales out, 'holy shit.'

your shoulders slump when you mutter out, 'thank god.'

'holy fuck, i thought my stomach was about to come out of my ass for a second. don't get me wrong if it was-'

'i was right there with you, petey. we could've figured it out but thank god we don't have to.' you hold a hand over your heart and feel calm wash over you. 'are we bad people for being happy about this?'

peter shakes his head. 'no, not at all. we're not ready for that yet, but now we know we could be.'

you think you're speaking for the both of you and you think it needs to be said. 'to be clear, we do want kids, just later down the road. and this was just a little scare but now that we know we don't want any right now, we should be a little more careful about how we do things, right?'

'a hundred percent, trouble. you said it before i could.'

'good.' you take another peek at the test, double confirmation. 'now can you please feed me? i'm famished.'

even if you weren't pregnant, peter would do anything for you.

'anything my baby wants, she gets.'

[mrchiipchrome]

New Girlfriend

W.C. - 1.8 k

prompt 18. -Only I belong with you and only you babe.

prompt 20. -I hope you find peace for yourself, -New girlfriend ain’t gonna fill the void.

a/n: 1. I only know how to intrduce myself in Spanish, so excuse if it's wrong, 2. there's a list of prompts linked in my masterlist if you want to request:)

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

3 years. You had just spent three damn years loving someone who was willing to chuck all that away in a second. Three wonderful years tarnished in the span of a minute, just because she decided that you weren’t enough for her.

Just because Alexia decided she was bored, of you and of your relationship.

When she just a week ago told you that you were done, over text nonetheless, you simply couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Everything was going so well, she hadn’t given you any indication of being unhappy whatsoever.

When the shock passed, the despair set in. What could you possibly have done to warrant being broken up with that way? Had you really been that bad of a girlfriend?

The thundering crack of your phone screen hitting the floor marks your breaking point, curling up into a ball on the floor and sobbing until nothing more comes out. 

You’re not even surprised that she doesn’t return back to the shared apartment you once saw as your home, now everything was just a reminder of her and how she’d been yours only seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks before.

And no matter how much you cry, how much secretly wearing her hoodies tears a hole in your heart all over again, you know that she’s not yours anymore. You’ll never feel her feather light touch late at night again, never feel her lips pressing against yours again, never feel her nails scratching at your back.

Her new girlfriend was so much prettier than you, kinder eyes, glossier hair, better lashes, bigger tits, rounder ass. How could you ever compare to that?

Seeing her face everyday at training had you close to breaking down in tears, every look into your favorite pair of eyes bringing you that much closer to the edge.

The only way for you to not fold in two every single second you spend in her presence, is to outright ignore her. 

Something she doesn’t take too kindly to.

Dragging your feet against the floor, you’re instantly reminded of how Alexia used to chastise you for doing that exact thing.

All of a sudden, you can feel your shoulder being pulled on harshly. Stumbling back into the body of the mystery person, you can feel the familiar curves under your fingertips, her fingers clutching painfully at your shoulder. 

“Can we talk?” She rasps out, staring into your eyes with an indescribable amount of venom. The way she was looking at you, you’d think you were the one who broke up with her over text.

“No” Pulling your shoulder away from her iron vise grip, she doesn’t even get a glance in her direction.

“No te alejes de mi Y/n, you do not walk away from me.” Her thick spanish accent covers the english words, the once charming zing of her accent now only making you want to throw up.

“There’s nothing to talk about Alexia. You broke up with me over text, you didn’t even have the decency to look me in the eyes as you threw away 3 years.” Now it was her turn to not look you in the eyes, turning her eyes down to the sidewalk. 

“Say something then Alexia, that’s what you wanted to do right, talk.” You see how her lips move but no words come out, almost like she was expecting you to just lay down and admit defeat. Foolish of her.

“Good talk Alexia, I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh and, don’t forget to pick your things up from the apartment.” Turning on your heel, you feel her stare into the back of your head.

“Will you stop being so sour? I broke up with you a month ago, get over it!” She screams after you.

“Are you that far removed from reality Alexia? You think a MONTH heals your heart from being crushed?” You shoot back, in disbelief at her lack of knowledge of feelings.

“Dios mío Y/n, I hope you find peace for yourself” She tells you calmly, feelings spilling into her voice despite her attempt at composure.

“You do know that a new girlfriend ain’t going to fill the void right? She’s not going to love you like I do, like I did, she’s not going to be there for you like I was. When you realize that, you will come crawling back to me.” You spit back at her, equal amount of emotion in your voice as in hers.

When you turn away from her this time, you actually walk away from her and to your car, driving away from her and the argument. 

That evening is spent drowning your sorrows in ice cream and Alexia’s old very expensive wine. She wouldn’t miss it, she’s got 1000 other things to worry about.

Foolishly, in your drunken stupor you decided that it was a brilliant idea to agree to a night out with the team…including Alexia.

The anticipation of that Sunday night created a lump of anxiety that sat uncomfortably in your stomach, growing like a balloon being blown up until it fully consumed you. 

Foot tapping against the floor, you check your watch for the umpteenth time, fingers starting to fiddle with the buttons on your shirt. You were sure that the loose button would manage to come off before Pina and Patri would pull up, the two planning on getting drunk beyond recognition.

Sucking your teeth, you accidentally bite down on your tongue when you hear the loud noise of the car’s horn.

“HOLA Y/N” Patri shouts in your face directly after you’ve sat down in the backseat, the young girl reeking of alcohol.

“Someone’s already started the party, ey?” You get out through a hesitant chuckle, Pina meeting your eyes through the rearview mirror. 

Without much fuss, you all get to the venue, though the ball of pure anxiety was settling in your throat uncomfortably. The confidence you had only days ago was long gone, nervous picking at your fingers showcasing that.

When you stepped foot in that bar, the smell of alcohol and far too strong perfume hit your nose, overwhelming all your senses.

Yet everything seems to calm as soon as you catch sight of your ex, simply put she looked out of this world. 

No, you tell yourself, I can’t think of her like that anymore.

“Y/n/n let’s go to the bar, I need something to drink!” Pina close to shouts directly into your ear, the young girl clutching onto your right arm like her life depended on it.

You let yourself be pulled along by the two younger girls, setting your body down in one of the barstools, Pina and Patri each hanging off your shoulders. They each order their drinks, waiting for you to do the same.

“Just a coke please” The bartender sent you a quick wink before moving away, Thing 1 and Thing 2 ohhhh-ing loudly. 

“Your drinks ladies!” The pretty bartender hands you the glasses, your coke still in its glass container. Before you leave to join your friends, the woman slides you a piece of paper, her number written on it.

The blush stays on your face all the way until you reach the large table, ready to put your bottle down on the table. It seems like a certain someone was waiting for you to rid yourself off it before pulling you away from the rest.

“Hey, leave me alone!” You shout, not having seen the face of your perpetrator, but the nails digging into your arm gave you a slight indication as to who it was.

Next thing you know, you’re being pushed up against a wall, familiar lips locking with your own. Alexia presses her body up against yours tightly, leaving as small of a space between your bodies as she could.

Pulling your lips away from hers, you quickly wipe your sticky lips.

“Alexia, what are you doing?” The absolute disbelief in your voice makes her look at you like you were stupid.

“I saw how that fucking bartender was hitting on you, I had to send her a message. Only I belong with you and only you amor” She’s got a smug smirk on her face, looking back at the stunned bartender.

“No, Alexia, you broke up with me. You don’t get to do that because we’re not together anymore, I am not yours Alexia. I can date and fuck whoever I want, and you can’t do anything about that and it’s your fault.”

Walking away from her, like you’d done only days before, she once again calls out for you.

“You were right, she wasn’t like you. I have no explanation for why I did what I did, but I just want to apologise, it wasn’t…fair of me.” Her pauses between some of the words show how she’s truly trying her best to apologise.

“I want you back Y/n” You couldn’t even lie to her, say that you didn’t want to get back together, because it was the only thing you’d been thinking about these last few weeks.

Sighing, you look at your watch, before taking her hand and pulling her out of the doors. The cold evening air nips at your skin as you start to talk.

“You broke me Ale, and it’s going to take awhile to make up for that. If we’re getting back together then it’s on my terms, okay?” Alexia nods vigorously, she’d clearly do anything to get you back.

“Can I kiss you?” The timidness in her voice has you close to awwww-ing, leaning back against the brickwall while Alexia leans against the railing parallel to you.

Her intense gaze stays on you as you rest your head back against the cold hardened clay, exhaling through slightly chapped lips. The cloud that forms in the air presents the contrast between the warmth of your body and the cold of the night.

“That’s all I want” This time your lips lock in a calm dance, all the feelings of sorrow and longing being expressed in a single kiss.

"How about we get out of here?” Her hands lay flat against your chest, fiddling slightly with the material of your shirt. A slight chuckle escapes you, making Alexia look up at you through her eyelashes.

“Oh, amor I’m driving Thing 1 and Thing 2 home. I promised them I’d stay over at their place and take care of them after.” You kiss her hairline as she herself chuckles.

Wrapping your arms around her waist, she places her head on your chest, the vibrations of the tune you were humming sending her heart into overdrive.

“But we could stay out here for a while instead, I like having you back in my arms.” The only response you get is a kiss pressed to the column of your neck.

It would take a while for Alexia to get you back, it didn’t matter if it took 10 days or 10 years, as long as she got you back. 

[aheathen-conceivably]

Quiet reigned over the Duplanchier dinner table. Whatever illusion of peace that had been there before had been shattered by the roar of a 1932 Ford Roadster. It had arrived only minutes before, cutting through the stillness of the desert before it purred to a halt in front of of the farmhouse. Now it sat outside, gleaming in the final sunbeams of the day while its presence was felt even beyond the thin wooden walls that shielded it from view.

The ghost of its engine filled the quiet air of the kitchen, fighting for dominance alongside the clattering of forks and nervously unspoken words. It was ringing in Violette’s ears, feeding into the seething feeling she could feel rising from the depths of her stomach. She knew that she wasn’t the only one, but she was only just beginning to learn how her parent’s responded to their own emotions. With quiet. They didn’t yell when they were uncomfortable the way she wanted to, or even try to talk about the issue in front of them. They just wanted to sit in quiet: sad, melancholy, infuriating quiet.

So when the ringing of the engine finally began to deafen her ears and she couldn’t deny the shaking feeling of anger in her stomach anymore, she didn’t even make a sound. She simply threw her chair back, allowing the screech on the wooden floorboards to punctuate the quiet air the way she wanted to with a yell, before she stomped out of the room.

Why should she give them an explanation? No one had asked her what she wanted her father to do; they had all simply been quiet. For weeks and for months, until suddenly, Poppa has to go on the road, Princess. That was it. Her life as she knew it was over. The promises her Aunt Jo had made now void. He was leaving, the way he said he never would, the way she feared when she came out to this strange place with these strange people and this strange feeling that just made her want to yell and scream but she couldn’t because it was always just so quiet.

Whatever she had hoped to find in her room wasn’t there. She wound up the music box on the side of her bed, hoping that it would cut through the silence. But even alongside its thin song she could hear it: the void of noise in the desert, one through which she could hear the music coming from below the floorboards in New Orleans. Music her father played, music her father would be playing when he left them tomorrow.

Only she would be left here in the silence of her room, the infuriating quiet of her mother’s little world in a place that just made her want to go home, even though they all told her this was where home was supposed to be.

A few minutes later he found her on the ground next to her bed, crying hot, angry tears that she hadn’t quite yet learned how to hide. The small music box had just finished its song, and as his daughter’s eyes met his the ballerina over her shoulder stopped twirling just in time to face him. It seemed to stare at him just the way it did when it was his mother and his sister sitting on either side of it, entranced by the very same melody that it still played here, decades later and thousands of miles away.

He fought through the clouds of his memories to walk nearer to her, but she didn’t turn or even acknowledge his presence as he sat down; instead, she let the quiet answer the pain she could feel radiating from his words like sunbeams on the sand. “Look at me, Princess. Don’t cry alright? You’re strong. Very strong, and I’ll be home before you know it.”

Still she stayed resolute, and something desperate almost broke in Antoine. The part of him that wanted to cry too, to curl up in a small ball and refuse to go no matter what his sister threatened or how dire their situation was. He had pulled nearly all the strength he could in these last few days, packing his life into the neat squares of a suitcase as he put off saying goodbye to Zelda and Violette for as long as he possibly could.

Only he couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer, not when it sat beside him angry and confused, much the same way a deep part of him still felt too. He pulled her close to him as her posture softened just enough to lean onto him for support. “Ma petite chérie, it won’t be long, please. I’ll bring you home something from the road, okay? A dress, a gift, a souvenir. Whatever you want.”

His words worked in eliciting a reaction, only not the one he had hoped. She shrugged her shoulders violently to throw his hands off of her and dried her face with balled fists. When she spoke it was directed at the shining figure of the ballerina in the box rather than him. “I’m not a child anymore, Poppa.”

The anger she sloughed from her shoulders tried to move onto him like a sickness, because he didn’t want to leave anymore than she wanted him to. But he loved her too much to let it win, even if it made his voice hoarse and his eyes burn. “Then you want the truth, Violette? Sometimes people have to leave. They have to leave to find what they want or to help other people. As you get older you might be one of those people, or it may be your friends or even your family. Sometimes they don’t even come home. But I can promise you that I’m always going to come home. You and your mother will be here and that will always make me come back, no matter what happens or where in the world I am.”

Finally she turned, a rehearsed sparkle in her eyes which should have told him that she thought her entreaties would work and had been saving them for the right moment. “Then can I come with you? Can I come on the road? I’ll be good, I promise. I don’t want to be here without you or Aunt Jo…”

“Violette, you have school. Your mother. The farmhouse…” his voice was growing thinner, more exasperated by the fact that she didn’t understand what he had to do or that it hurt so goddamn much to do it. She didn’t know that he would look in on her sleeping before he stepped out the door in only a few hours, reminding himself of why he was doing it at all in the most painful way possible. “What more do you want? I have to leave, okay? I have to leave for you and our family. You just…you don’t understand.”

She turned back to face the music box, too angry to even reach out and wind it up again. He was wrong. She did understand. Not that he was leaving them out of love and devotion, or that the world required sacrifice especially in the face of those things. But what she understood was no less true, even if it was tinted by the sounds of his music playing from the depths of her own memory. She understood that there was no real opportunity for him there, and in turn perceived that there was no real opportunity for her either. Sometimes people have to leave, Violette. If that was the truth to understand from his words that night, then she more than understood it.

[pedrospatch]

Lonely Too Long l (To Hell and Back Drabble)

Series Masterlist

Summary: After escaping a group of brutal slavers, you are left with permanent physical and emotional scars. Unwilling to put your trust in another human being ever again, you spend a year fighting for survival alone in the post outbreak world. But when you choose to save the life of a man named Joel Miller, the wall that you’ve built to protect yourself slowly begins to crumble.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ only, minors DNI. Flashback of implied SA, but no descriptions. Soft Joel, Joel sings to reader. *If you happen to be reading the series, I recommend reading this one because it starts setting up Joel and reader’s relationship. This is also the last flashback she’s going to have since it’s a heavier one than the last two.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Dust to Dust is one of my favorite songs by The Civil Wars. I know the song did not come out until like 2013, but we’re just going to pretend. Also, I know that the gif is video game Joel, but god I love him just as much and it fits this scene so we are gonna roll with it. I know this might not be everyone’s cup of tea but I wanted to write it so I did. 🤌🏼 I am still organizing the taglist for this series, it will be start with the next chapter. This was mostly for me but hopefully some people out there enjoy it too. 🤍

You couldn’t scream.

You’re trying to cry out, but you can’t.

Chest tight, your lungs won’t expand.

You couldn’t breathe. 

One hand around your neck, the other is fumbling with the zipper of your jeans.

“Been thinking about this all day,” he grinned, his fingers roughly scraping against the skin of your lower stomach.

In the corner, your cellmate is curled into a little ball in the floor, hands covering her ears and her eyes squeezed shut.

She’s probably praying she won’t be next.

She’s seventeen so even in the midst of your own chaos, you can’t help but pray she isn’t next too.

You thrashed around underneath him. It’s futile, but all you can think about is getting him off you.

Grin fading, he let out a heavy, irritated sigh. His hand left the waistband of your jeans. He reached behind him and pulled out his gun, bringing it up to into your view—it caused you to cease any and all movements. “Listen to me,” he said, pressing the barrel of the pistol against your temple. “It’s simple, really. Keep squirming and I’ll blow your fucking brains out. Do you understand, dollface?”

When he received no response, he dug the barrel deeper into your skin, his finger on the trigger.

“Do you understand?” He repeated, his tone low.

Nearly paralyzed, all you could do was nod. 

“Good.” He roughly flipped you over.

The sound of his belt buckle clanking rang loudly in your ears. As he yanked your jeans down to the middle of your thighs, you closed your eyes.

Both your mind and your body went numb.

A light, late night rainstorm came out of nowhere, sweeping over the town. The soft, pitter pattering sound of raindrops on the window above your bed had almost lulled you into slumber.

Almost.

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

The words blended into a steady but silent chant.

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

You’re fucking safe.

Slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead, you exhaled a long, heavy sigh and stared up into the the darkness of the bedroom.

You couldn’t be certain as to what time it was, but it had to be well into the middle of the night. You’d been tossing and turning for a couple of hours but somehow it felt like a hell of a lot longer than that.

You were fucking exhausted. You nearly ached for some sleep, but every damn time that you closed your eyes, vivid images of the past came creeping in and chased it further and further away.

Your brain just couldn’t seem to wrap itself around the fact that this place wasn’t dangerous.

That you didn’t have to sleep with one eye open.

That nobody was going to hurt you.

That you were safe in a soft bed in a real house.

You weren’t lying on a dirty cot in a human cage.

Sighing again, you thought about Joel who was in his bedroom down the hallway, sleeping.

It brought you comfort knowing he was close. But for some reason you couldn’t quite explain, part of you couldn’t help but feel he wasn’t close enough.

You. The same woman who vowed never to trust another human being ever again—you wanted him fucking closer. Actually, it wasn’t a want so much as it was a need.

You needed him to be closer.

Sitting up, you tossed the sheets back and swung your legs over the edge of the mattress, your bare feet meeting the cold, hardwood floors. You stood and quietly padded out of the bedroom and down the hallway towards Joel’s.

“You know where to find me if you need anythin’,” he’d assured you before he had gone off to bed.

You stopped in front of his door and lifted a curled first, knocking lightly. About a minute or two went by, and just when you started to realize that you’d made a mistake and whirled around to make a run for it back to your own room where you could hop back into bed and pretend that the thought of this hadn’t ever even crossed your mind, he opened up his bedroom door.

“Thought I heard a knock,” Joel mumbled sleepily, rubbing at his eyes with one of his hands. He wore nothing but his sweatpants, his hair looking about ten times more disheveled than usual. “Everythin’ alright?”

You swallowed dryly, trying your hardest not to let your eyes wander away from his face—it proved to be almost too difficult to keep from staring. Joel’s shoulders were broad, his chest was wide, and his stomach was soft; his sweatpants hung on the low side on his hips and revealed the trail of dark curls that started at his lower belly and descended until it disappeared underneath the elastic waistband.

You caught yourself before they could go lower.

“Somethin’ the matter, darlin’?” he asked, stifling a yawn. Thankfully he hasn’t seemed to notice you gawking at him. He rubbed at his eyes once again and then observed you, trying to figure out what it was that had brought you to his room at this hour. “You need somethin’? Are you cold? Did you need an extra blanket?”

You lightly shook your head in response. No.

He tried again. “Are you still hungry?” he asked as he gestured towards the stairs. “I can make you another sandwich if you want—”

He was cut off by another shake of your head that told him that wasn’t it.

“You just can’t sleep,” Joel realized after a minute. He frowned—he could see how tired you were and for as much as he didn’t want to think about it, he had a feeling that he knew what it was that was on your mind and keeping you awake. “What can I do to help, sweetness?”

You blinked, standing there almost dumbfounded.

Clearly, you hadn’t thought this through.

You would knock on Joel’s door and then what?

You would talk to him about what’s on your mind?

Letting out a tiny frustrated huff that was directed at yourself, you waved a dismissive hand in the air.

Forget it. There’s nothing you can do.

As you turned around to leave, Joel reached out to take your arm. He curled his fingers lightly around your elbow. “Well now, hold on a minute. You’re at my door for a reason,” he said. He watched as your eyes flickered to his hand around your arm, but he couldn’t be sure if his touch had bothered you. He dropped it, not wanting to risk pushing you too far or crossing a line, not when he had made progress with you, progress he didn’t want to lose. “You not bein’ able to sleep—it have anythin’ to do with you still not feelin’ safe?”

You hesitated.

“It’s alright, darlin’. You can be honest with me.”

The sheepish expression on your face said it all.

No, I can’t sleep because I don’t feel safe.

“Would it help if you slept with me?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, eyes widening at his proposal. At least, the way he’d said it.

Excuse me?

Realizing how it had sounded, Joel flushed. “What I mean is, would it help if you slept in my bed?” He winced. That hadn’t sounded all that much better. “You sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep on the floor,” he sputtered out quickly. “That’s what I meant. That way I’m right next to you and you ain’t alone.”

Gnawing nervously on your bottom lip, you took a minute to think it over.

If you wanted him closer, this was your chance.

But why? Why did you want him to be closer? Why did you need to have him at your side?

You’d been on your own for an entire fucking year.

And it had been by choice.

You didn’t want to be around other people, sure as hell didn’t need to be around other people.

And then Joel Miller makes his appearance and all of a sudden, you’re at his door in the middle of the damn night because you feel the need to have him at your side?

Finally, you nodded your head. Okay.

“Come in.” He stepped aside, allowing you in. Not wanting you to feel trapped in his room, he left the door open. “And you’re free to go on back to your own room whenever you feel like it.”

Joel picked up his discarded tee shirt from earlier, a small labored grunt escaping him as he brought himself back into an upright position, the bones in his lower back crackling with protest. Turning over his shirt right side out, he tugged it on as you took a look around his bedroom, a larger space dimly lit by the small lamp on his nightstand.

That’s when you saw it.

Perched on a stand, it was nestled in the corner.

A guitar.

Curiously, you walked over and knelt in front of it.

You reached out and softly ran your fingers across the strings, smiling to yourself at the sound it had made.

“Found that while out on patrol with Tommy a few weeks ago,” Joel stated as he came up behind you slowly. “Gibson. Little worse for wear, but in damn good condition all things considerin’. Woulda been a crime to leave it out there,” he chuckled. “I know Ellie’s been wantin’ to learn, it’s the main reason it came back home with me. I haven’t shown her yet since I still gotta clean and polish her up.” He took a brief pause. “You know how to play?”

You ran your fingers across the strings once more, and a loud, terrible noise that wasn’t even close to music caused him to wince. You then looked up at him over your shoulder with an amused grin.

Does it sound like I know how to play?

Joel couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll take that as a no, then.” He leaned over and picked up the guitar. He walked over and took a seat on the side of his bed, patting the seat beside him. “C’mere, sweetness.”

Getting up to your feet, you wrapped Joel’s flannel closer around your body as you padded over to his bed, perching yourself next to him.

Head down and focused, he began to strum a few notes. You couldn’t help but to be mesmerized by how his large hands moved on the instrument, the way his long, thick fingers—

Swallowing dryly, you cut the thought short.

Curiously, you put a hand on his shoulder.

Joel paused the tune. “What is it, darlin’?”

With your opposite hand, you touched your throat and then pointed at him. Can you sing?

He gave a half hearted shrug. “I do like to sing,” he admitted almost bashfully. “Always been fond of it ever since I was a kid.” He chuckled. “Before goin’ into construction, I wanted to be a musician. But I knew it would never pay the bills.”

You squeezed Joel’s shoulder and gestured to the guitar, then to his throat again. Will you sing me a song?

Joel felt the back of his neck burn and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Normally, I would probably say no,” he admitted. “But, seein’ as you saved my life and all, I’d be a real asshole if I said no to you.”

Lifting your chin, you shot him a smug look. That is very true. So go on then, Johnny Cash. Play me a song.

“Alright. Any requests?”

You nudged him lightly. Very funny.

“Okay, um. Gimme a minute to think of a song.”

Withdrawing your hand from his shoulder, you sat back against his pillows and pulled your legs up to your chest, hugging your knees.

Nervously, Joel inhaled and exhaled a deep breath and began strumming the guitar. Chills shot down your spinal cord as a hauntingly beautiful melody filled his bedroom. He turned and angled his body towards to you as he began to sing.

“You’ve held your head up,

you’ve fought the fight

you bear the scars, you’ve done your time

listen to me, you’ve been lonely too long…”

Your mouth fell open slightly.

“Let me in the walls you’ve built around

we can light a match and burn them down…”

The rich baritone of his voice caused goosebumps to eruprt all over your flesh. Furiously, you rubbed at your bare legs, but it was useless.

With every note Joel sang to you, more appeared.

With every note Joel sang to you, the harder you found it to breathe steady.

With every note Joel sang to you, the more beats your heart seemed to be skipping.

“Let me hold your hand

and dance ‘round and ‘round the flames

in front of us, dust to dust…”

Joel glanced up, his dark brown eyes holding your gaze as he sang the final verse of the song.

“You’re like a mirror, reflectin’ me

takes one to know one, so take it from me

you’ve been lonely

you’ve been lonely too long.”

Even if you could speak to him, you would’ve been left speechless—all that you could do was stare at him in complete awe.

Joel set the guitar down. “I’m alright,” he said with a sheepish little laugh. “My voice ain’t nowhere as nice as yours.”

You stiffened slightly.

What are you talking about?

“Don’t look at me like that. I know it was you who I heard singin’ back at that cabin when I was comin’ back around.” He gave you a crooked grin. “Earlier I was just playin’ dumb, but I know it was you. You have a gorgeous voice, and I’d love to hear it again someday.”

Hugging your legs closer to yourself, you dropped your head down onto your knees, embarrassed.

What was the matter with you?

Here was a man who had taken you in, offered you a warm bed under his own roof—gave you clothes and fed you, even offered to give up his own damn bed and sleep on the cold hard floor beside you to make you feel safe enough to sleep.

And you still couldn’t say a fucking word to him.

“Hey. Look at me.”

Forcing your head up, your gaze met his.

“It’s alright, darlin’,” Joel assured you. “It’s just like I told you downstairs. We’re gonna take it one step at a time.” Lifting one of his hands, he reached out holding it out to you, his palm face upwards. “And I swear, once you find your voice, I’m gonna do all that I can do to make sure you never lose it again.”

Biting your lower lip, you placed your hand in his.

Joel have it a gentle squeeze. “Atta girl.”

Much sooner than you would have liked, he let go of your hand and stood up.

“We should get some sleep. You’re gonna need all the rest you can get before you meet my kid. Ellie. She’ll be here first thing and I should warn you she can be, uh, she can be a lot to process.” He let out an amused snort and reached for a pillow, tossing it onto the floor. “You can have all the blankets, I’ll just take this throw here—”

As Joel reached past you for a green flannel throw blanket, you grabbed his arm to stop him. His face was just inches from yours.

Close.

But again somehow still not close enough.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, softly.

Warm and laced with mint from the toothpaste he had used to brush his teeth before bed, his breath tickled the tip of of your nose, sending a pleasant shiver up your spine.

Your eyes looked right into his as you scooter over to the other side of his bed—it was firm, cold. Like no one had ever occupied that space before. But it was foolish to think that a man like Joel Miller had never had another woman share his bed before.

You patted the spot beside you.

Sleep up here.

“You sure about this, darlin’?”

You patted the empty spot again. Yes I’m sure.

Joel squinted at you. “You ain’t gonna strangle me in my sleep, are you now?”

His half serious joke was met with a glare.

Keep it up with wise cracks and I just might.

He held his hands up in defense. “Just checkin.”

As you crawled underneath his dark green sheets, Joel slid into bed beside you, making sure to leave a good three foot gap between the both of you; he murmured a quiet goodnight and switched off the lamp on his nightstand before rolling over onto his stomach—not even two minutes later and his soft snores filled the room.

You turned onto your side, facing him. Through a beam of moonlight steaming in through a crack in the curtains, you could just make out the outlines of his facial features. He’d fallen asleep facing you.

Closing your eyes, your body sank further into the mattress, heavy with exhaustion.

Taut, tense muscles finally relaxed.

Tight jaw finally unclenched.

You’re safe.

You slowly started drifting off to sleep.

With Joel beside you, no nightmares came to visit.

[hoiststowline]

through smoke

ultra magnus x f!reader

Even in your nightly routine, little stopped the mech from being the protector, even without your knowledge. While there were many sleepless nights per him, partially because he didn't need it as frequently as you, yet mostly because he would work until the repercussions caught up to his internal systems. You'd often wake up to find him knocked out at his desk, materials still in one hand as his entire frame relaxes. 

Magnus had caved into your request in a moment where your pout had ultimately been effective, realizing he was due to recharge two Earth days prior. While often he had to turn down your pleas, not because he wanted to, but because time-sensitive matters had trumped his health, this was a rare instance where he could say yes. He doesn't know if he'll ever get over the way your entire face lights up, a beautiful smile overtakes your face followed by a squeal of happiness that hums from your lips. 

He wants you to always be happy. It is a massive ask, and between the two of you, it's a feat easier said than done, but if something so small can enchant you, it's worth the time lost. 

Approximately three hours into your sleep, Magnus is still wide awake beside you. He's staring up at his berthroom's metal ceiling, servos clasped across his torso, a blank look on his face as he contemplates nothing yet his processor will not halt its rampaging thoughts. There's a lingering question that it should be easy to fall into recharge, but the action will not come willfully. 

You're curled in a ball within your normal spot, above his shoulder just beside his helm. Effortlessly, you capture his attention, turning just slightly to the left to observe your form, when nearly immediately his brow furrows, confusion seeping into his expression. Easily his optics take in your entire figure, baffled by the way your lips mumble incoherent words as sweat gathers at your forehead, but your body trembles as if you were cold. 

It's a scenario he's never found himself in before. Magnus has nothing to compare it to, because typically, you sleep like a statue, and the only relief he had was watching the way your chest rose and fell with steady breaths. This time around, your breathing appeared irregular and hitched, like you were crying. 

"y/n?" His inquiry remains a whisper, moving silently up onto one arm as his body shields you from the rest of the room. The unoccupied servo goes to reach out for you, wanting you to be alright, but the deed is discontinued before it can make contact. You are crying, and something heavy comes to sit within his chassis. 

Ultra Magnus has zero idea what is happening directly in front of him. He has no idea if you are hurt, ill, or both- but there's little he can do with his limited medical expertise. Just as he rapidly contemplates his options, you re-enter reality, sitting up with a start, a palm on your chest as the other grabs fistfuls of your blanket atop your legs. 

There's one awful moment where the only sound is your heavy gasps for air, eyes squinted shut as more tears run rivers down rosy cheeks. Everything in you wants to scream, but you also haven't realized that Magnus is awake, hovering over you with one servo still extended awkwardly. A brief hope washes over you that you'd be able to handle this without waking the poor guy up, knowing that he needed his rest more than anyone else.

As your exhausted eyes blink open, you're disheartened to find a soft cerulean gaze staring down at you with an almost nauseating expression of disquiet. A gasp stumbles forth, hastily wiping the lingering tears away as an apology stumbles out next, shrinking under his regard. 

"What is the matter, y/n?" It's blatant the way he disregards your apology, but to him, it's important to get to the root of your distress first. 

"I had a nightmare, I think." You sniffle, catching his still-extended hand in your peripheral vision. "I'm good." 

Magnus buckles under an imaginary weight, like relief and stupor were fighting for control. "None of what I just observed demonstrates that you are 'good'."

Finally, his servo comes to rest beside your thigh, not quite touching your skin, but close enough that he left the decision in your hands. He's in a transparently uncomfortable position, torso twisted as one hand splayed out behind him as it supports his upper body's weight. His guise is unsettled, a ghost of something more within his features, but you can't find the conveyance properly in your anxious state. 

"Well, it is the first one I've had in a while," You shrug, rolling your shoulders as a sense of safety floods your achy head. "I guess it's the first one I've had since meeting you." 

"First what?" He rumbles, tilting his helm to the right. 

"Nightmare." You repeat, blinking owlishly. "I don't know how I normally behave because no one is usually there to see me."

In turn, Magnus takes two languid blinks, as if he's straining to follow your sentences. "Forgive me, but that word, nightmare- it is lost to me. I cannot find an established translation from your language to mine." 

A laugh bubbles in your throat, but for the sake of the circumstance, you swallow it back down. Nothing about this is funny, and he would certainly scold you for displaying such a reaction, even if it was uncontrollable from within your subconscious. "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't realize." Recovering, you waste little time in continuing. "It's uh, kinda like...the opposite of a good dream?" 

"Cybertronian's cannot dream." The delivery is comparable to a deadpan, but you know better. "So I am vastly theorizing here, but I take it you were within a state that was not peaceful." 

You free that previously stifled laugh, but it's drier than you imagined. "Good guess, Mags." 

"Are you unwell?" He dips closer, leaning forward until his frame entirely swallows you, digit coming to rest gently atop your thigh. "Do not lie to me, y/n. I will call for Ratchet."

"I'm fine," You drawl, teeth sinking nearly unbearably into your bottom lip. "You look like you're having an existential crisis."

"And what was I to think?" He huffs, slumping just close enough that his lips poise just above your forehead. "I worry, y/n, whether you think it's rational or not." 

"Hey, I didn't say anything about it not being rational," Argued exhaustedly, but meaningfully. "Sorry, that I worried you. I guess from my perspective I always just woke up, I didn't even realize that I thrash around like that." 

When he doesn't answer in turn, you tilt your head backward to try and catch his gaze. Something is resounding within his chassis, a soft hum that lulls the atmosphere into a state of tranquility. "You have nothing to apologize for." A pause, and then he continues. "While Cybertronian's cannot...dream, there is a similar recollection of memories while within recharge."

"Like...bad memories too?" You ask meekly, feeling a pang of guilt as he nods wordlessly. "I hope you can recall good ones too." 

"Certainly." You don't miss the small smile that twitches onto his face-plate. "But to circle back to the original topic, I can understand the feeling of a bad dream. I can only hope that it does not continue to occur."

"Yeah, you and I both." Joking, your fingers reach to swipe under your eyes to brush away the lingering tears, but Magnus' digit beats you to it, cool metal bringing a warmness to your cheeks. "Did I wake you up?" 

His finger remains atop your skin, another cupping your chin as he keeps your gaze to his as if to observe any unspoken words. He does believe you, understanding that you are just fine, but it is also unknown territory to him, not entirely convinced the nightmare transpired out of nowhere. 

"No." Magnus gravels, dipping down an inch further. "I was awake." 

"Why?" You ask, brow furrowing. "You gotta be tired, Mags. If you could have dark circles, they'd be permanent." 

He could brush your uneasiness away with a simple shutdown of the conversation, shushing you to go back to sleep, but it would be futile. "I've got a little too much on my processor." Magnus ex-vents, finally pulling the servo that was supporting his upper body from behind him. At this, he lowers himself to the berth, hand never leaving your cheek as he now faces you on his side. "Do not trouble yourself about it." 

"What's on your mind?" If laughter came more effortlessly to the mech, he's certain one would have followed your query. He likely could have bet money on that one, observing the way your eyes lose some of the glimmers they previously had, replaced with a bit of fret. 

"Did you simply ignore the last part of my sentence? y/n, please-" His breath hitches as your tiny fingers lay atop the back of his servo, appendages warm to the touch. 

You sniffle, shuffling just a bit closer to his face-plate. "Hey, you got to ask me questions, why can't I ask you?" 

"You were the one in distress." He counters, words firm. "My ailments can at least wait until morning." 

"Yeah, you say that, and then when I ask in the morning you'll say: 'Leave it be y/n', and then we'll never get to talk about it." Magnus is heavily amused at your poor attempt to convey his voice, tone dropping in mockery. 

"I do not sound like that." He murmurs, liking the laugh that bursts from your lips. 

"You do, but that's okay. I love you anyway." You roll your shoulders, a comforting action to ease the pain that was starting to ache there. "So, what's up?" 

Love was a word tossed around so simply on your end, but the tone was always different per situation. The way you said it to him was so unique, he's never heard it roll off your tongue to another soul before, and he wishes he could bring himself to say it so casually in return. 

You mean it every time. And though his mumbles of the sentiment are saved for more intimate moments, he supposes those are what you appreciate the most, enjoying the way your whole face flushes and is replaced with a twinge of red color. 

"It's too much to divulge now, y/n." Hair is moved away from your eyes, tucked back behind your ear as he continues. "Perhaps I make a promise to discuss it at a later time?" 

Your eyes move from his to the pinky he has extended your way, a childish yet meaningful gesture of a promise you had taught him. He treats it like a bond forged in fire, the tapping of your pinkies, and you like to keep it that way. You know that he intends to come back to this exchange, whether it be tomorrow or a week from now. 

"Deal, Magnus." Your fingers briefly interlock, a smile working its way to your face. "Try and get some rest though, for real." 

"You too, y/n." The lingering trace of a kiss lands atop your forehead, missing his touch as fast as it goes away. "Good night." 

"Night." His touch never felt more comfortable as you quickly faded back to sleep, blanket soft atop your skin as his optics ultimately fluttered shut. 

[itstimetojellyfish]

I’ll hold you if no one will . ( Dan Heng x reader)

This is another post! Critical advice is welcomed! And it’s sorta long!

It’s…. Been a long day ….. from fighting Mara- struck to dealing with entitled people trying to gas light you into doing something you don’t want to . Nevertheless, you still help people .

It’s a good way to forget . All the memories of the past , essentially, everything . You don’t want to remember. You’d rather feel safe and warm instead of reminiscing the times where the so-called friends you had left you for dead .

So , you keep to yourself and never reveal a single thing about your past , it was a defense mechanism to you . Also , to further ensure you never have to look back on the past , you read books , taking in tons of information, hoping you’ll finally forget every single thing.

It doesn’t work , but it helps you stall time and helps you get lost in an imaginary world where no one would judge you .

Now don’t get it wrong , you love the astral express and its inhabitants, including the fluffy , bunny-like conductor ! But

This is sensitive information that’s really hard to open up to people . So , you stay away and hide who you used to be underneath a bubbly and happy mask .

Because of how often you read , you find yourself in the archives half of the time , Dan Heng , the guard of the astral express, lives there , and dutifully writes down information.

On multiple occasions you interact with him , though most of the time he just listens to you and occasionally hums an acknowledgment.

Soon enough , you’ve formed a bond and he allows you to barge into the archives whenever you like .

Today was not your day . From people trying to guilt trip you to having the people of the past haunt your mind as you constantly try to forget .

At night , the nightmares come . Haunting laughs and shill screams echo in your mind as you toss and turn , trying to get the noise out of your mind .

However , the effort you put in is fruitless. So you tumble out of bed , put on some casual clothes and head out of your room to the archives at 10 pm .

When you open the door , Dan Heng isn’t there , he’s probably just collecting data then . So you plop yourself down in a corner and curl up in a ball .

You take some books from the shelf and start to read , but the voices progressively get worse and soon enough it was too much to handle .

Everything seems to hate you at this point . Fat droplets drip down your cheeks as you start to cry . Why was everyone out for your blood right now?….

In midst of your crying , the door creaked open and you came face to face with Dan Heng . Your eyes widen as you scramble to compose yourself and wipe away your tears . You stare at each other for a while , but then Dan Heng breaks the silence .

Starring at your disheveled state , he asks in a gentle tone. “ Are …. You okay?…. You seem sleep deprived and you look like you were crying earlier….”

You look down and sniff . “ I’m sorry for disturbing you….”

He stares at you for a bit before kneeling down to your height and asking you ,” Did you have a nightmare?”

You look up at him before nodding sheepishly. “ it’s fine though!”

Before you could argue about your feelings any longer he gathers you into his arms and starts to cradle you as if your porcelain.

This triggers something on you as more painful memories rush back full force . Tears fall down your face , how long has it been since someone held you like this? Actually, how long has it been since someone affectionately touched you?…

As you begin to sob , Dan Heng gently rubs your back and continues to shush you , calming you down and letting your emotions out , he doesn’t pet about what troubles you , only lets you know he’s there for you as he hold you close to him .

You let out all your emotions and thought and everything about you and how your friends didn’t feel like friends when they left you for dead and used you as a meat shield .

You didn’t notice it in midst of your crying but as more and more information tumbled out of your mouth , his expression got darker and darker , with his teal eyes glowing softy.

Soon enough , your tear ducts are dry and you begin to tire out . You curl into him , and he lets you , cradling your figure even tighter . You making a mental note to thank him when you wake .

When you’re fast asleep , a tail curls around your waist and the fluffy end gently caresses your face , careful not to wake you up . Dan Heng gently presses his forehead against yours , nuzzling you as his more draconic instincts show .

“….. I won’t let anyone hurt you again, you’ll be safe in my arms and if anyone does try to harm you . They won’t see daylight again .“ He whispers to you , gently rocking you back and forth .

Nobody will hurt you . He vows his life upon it .

[nochukoo97]

boyfriend drabbles (pt.8)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: the one where you and your boyfriend have a big argument, but only because of a huge misunderstanding

Warnings: allusions to cheating, a lot of angst but happy ending, the angst is mostly them arguing, and a lot of crying from her 🥲

Word count: 900+

masterlist!

“You never listen to me!” You scream as you storm off, shutting your shared bedroom door behind you as you lock the door.

The next thing you know, you’re sliding your back against the door as you curl up in a ball, eyes welling with tears from the frustration.

It was uncommon for you and Jungkook to argue or quarrel, but it never usually became so intense to the point you two would be shouting at each other.

What was the reason for your fight? Jungkook had gone out to drink with his friends a few times in the past week, he had invited you to come along but since you had many things piled up on your workload, you decided to skip. But as you scrolled on social media this morning, you couldn’t help but notice the same girl in all the pictures, standing a little too close to your boyfriend for your liking.

Jungkook’s reaction probably wasn’t the best either, he was super defensive when you had confronted him, but what made your anger burst was when he had called you overprotective and rolled his eyes at you. Soon after that was when the shouting began, until you couldn’t take it and shut yourself in the bedroom.

Normally Jungkook would be knocking on the door by now, asking for you to come out and forgive him. But your heart wrenched a little when the minutes passed by and there was no sign of your boyfriend.

You head to the connected bathroom, staring at your bloodshot eyes in the mirror and you wash your face, ready to come out to the living room and hopefully not shout at one another again.

But as you walked out, preparing yourself to be calm and conducted while trying to sort your argument out, Jungkook is nowhere to be seen in your apartment, his shoes that were once near the front door now gone.

Even when you call out his name, silence returns as your answer. This time your heart absolutely shatters into pieces.

The only thought in your head was: He had probably gone to that girl again, since you were too clingy and overprotective, he probably was annoyed with you.

Unconsciously, fat tears begin streaming down your face, as sobs uncontrollably escape from your mouth. You try to turn on the TV, switching to your favourite show, in hopes it would distract you, but to no avail, there was still your heart aching in your chest.

An hour passed by, and still no Jungkook. At this point you were heartbroken, lost and upset at everything. You didn’t want to believe that when you had walked out of the bedroom, that he was gone, unannounced.

But soon the unlocking of the door jolts you from your train of thought, and quickly wiping the tears still streaming down your face, you stare straight at the TV, as if you weren’t slightly relieved that Jungkook had come back.

You can’t help but notice at the corner of your eye, your boyfriend all sweaty and panting, with a certain glint in his eyes. One that you mostly ever saw after you two had gone rough on each other.

The sob that comes out of your mouth breaks Jungkook’s heart, watching you upset and crying. But he doesn’t know that he was breaking your heart, his state making you assume that he had probably cheated on you with that girl.

Jungkook hurries into the room to wash up, not saying a word as you continue to cry to yourself.

And when he comes out, your boyfriend tries to lure your sobbing state into his arms, but as much as you want to just bury yourself in Jungkook’s muscular hold, you refrain, reminding yourself he had probably done something horrible.

“Don’t touch me,” You sneer at him as your boyfriend retracts his arms, eyes wide from shock at your tone of voice.

“You shouldn’t even be here after what you probably did when you left,” You sniffle as you continue to break into tears, the tears never ending.

“Baby what are you talking about?” Jungkook frowns, confused and taken aback.

“I don’t want to know what you did to cheat on me, but you left without saying anything, and you were all sweaty and- and everything! I- I just don’t want to know,” You stutter over your words, trying to hold back the tears to the best of your ability.

“What? What are you talking about?” Your boyfriend takes your hands, but you don’t have the energy to fight back so you don’t budge.

“Baby I went to the boxing studio, I was just as mad as you were, so I wanted to let off some steam and think about it,” He starts to explain as you lift your head, connecting the dots. “Jagi I’m sorry I left without saying anything, I was just so frustrated and all, I didn’t mean to make you worried, I love you so much, and I don’t love you any less because of this either,”

You can’t even form words to make a response, but you simply crash into his embrace, relief surging through your body and Jungkook rubs your back, mumbling “sorry”s as he kisses your temple.

“I’m so sorry,” You sniffle as you apologise to him, “Didn’t mean to assume bad things about you, it was only what I could piece together,”

Jungkook kisses you, pulling apart after a while as he stares into your eyes, “ It’s okay baby, I’m sorry too,” he says, pushing a strand of hair away from your face.

As you exchange apologies and apologetic kisses, you’re happy that it didn’t end up the way you thought it would.

[shrimshrim4fun]

Could you maybe make a Oneshot headcanon of how (insert Sinner here) would react to you getting bullied? Or how they would intervene if they could out?

And can it please be Eirene for the first scenario?

It's okay if it takes a long while—it's kind of a big ask. But take all the time you need to cook(or to rest if you need to).

Note: I’ll try my best because I don’t know Eirene that well/seen her in game. I hope this isn’t too OOC. I don’t know if you want it to be right now but im gonna make it collage AU so I hope you don’t mind that. I think I wrote too much for a oneshot🧍‍♀️ This shit took me forever to get out, I’m so sorry 😭

Warning: Harassment and mostly angst. And death. Also one mention of maggots but only for comparing something. Im horrible at writing angst so I hope I somewhat cooked 👍 Not grammar proof I’m sorry I didn’t really read through it

Pairing: Student Eirene X Student F/Reader

-She was quite positive, no 100% positive that she would make sure you would be safe from any danger on campus.

-When she first noticed you start to wear long sleeves she didn’t say much but just commented on your change of clothing all of a sudden. Though she did send off someone to look over you if anything was gonna happen again.

-Though was a little annoyed that you didn’t come to her for help. She thought you would trust her enough to let her help you with these pesky things.

You trudge home, every step feels heavy as you’re afraid that the dudes that had pulled you into the alleyway last time would try to do it again. You hadn’t dared to tell Eirene, even though you’ve known each other for so long she still seemed so reserved. Sometimes your heart ached by the thought of her finding you annoying or how she thought of you. Those thoughts crawled at the back of your head like maggots. Clinging on and starting to eat away at you. As you continue to walk down the street from school you feel a pair of hands grip at you as it tugged you into the alleyway. You felt your back get slammed into the wall but you were thankful that your backpack provided some protection from the brick wall. Two guys towered over you as they looked down at you. “So have you thought about it? We won’t treat you bad if you come with us. We will take good care of you, you know.” They leaned down as they stared into you, waiting for the moment you said no. “P-please I’m nothing special, just let me go…please,” you begged helplessly. A cruel sneer came at their faces as they grabbed your hair. You flinch as you throw you against the ground. “You know when girls misbehave they get punishments.” They snarl out as they looked down at you. You scramble back as you tried to curl into a ball. Hoping that they won’t hurt you too bad. You heard loud screams, the types from horror movies. Filled with pain and misery but you dare not look up. As the sound of beating finally stop you could feel a pair of hands wrap around you. “You’re alright now.” It was Eirene’s voice. You slowly peek up to see her hugging you, her arms cold but so comforting. You couldn’t muffle a word as you start to cry and threw yourself into her arms. Her eyes widen in surprise as she almost tumbles over onto the ground but catching herself in time. Your head was buried into her chest as your tears flowed freely. “I’m here now, everything will be alright.” Her words were soft not like her usual strict tone, it felt so nice as if you were cocooned in a warm blanket. “Let’s bring you back home alright?” You could barely nod as she carried you in her arms, with surprising strength. You cling onto her as your head is still down, not wanting to look at the bullies.

As you two got to your house she settled you onto your bed before sitting next to you. Your tears already dried off as she had used her sleeve to help you wipe them off, with great reluctance. There was silence in the air before you decided to break it. “How did you know I was there?” Your question hung in the air before she answered, “I had some guards follow you secretly when I saw you starting to wear different shirts than usual.” She finally admitted. “You noticed that I wore different clothes?” She sighed before asking, “Is that what you’re really worried about right now? Yes I do notice every time you change your outfit, your perfume, your mak-.” She halted as she noticed she had said too much. A smile formed on your face. “So deep down you really care about me?” “Is that not obvious?” You shake your head before admitting, “Sometimes I feel like I’m dragging you down, a burden. And that you don’t want to talk to me.” “You really….think that way?” She suddenly pulls you tightly into a hug which was surprising, she never initiated any type of physical contact. “I sometimes do really wonder how you made it to college.” She mutters as you cling onto her. “You are mine, you can trust me completely because I trust you completely. I hope next time if anything happens you come find me don’t hide it. If you don’t come find me I’ll make you…play chess with me.”

“Don’t betray me…alright?”

“I promise, Miss president”

[superlintball]

Okay so a friend of mine was getting rid of some books and she offered up a book called The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri

I had never heard of it, so I looked it up, and discovered that it was a fantasy book written by an Indian author which heavily draws from South Asia for its worldbuilding

Needless to say, as an Indian, my interest was piqued, so I told my friend I would indeed like to have it

When I picked it up from her, she mentioned that it wasn't all that great of a book but that she really liked the worldbuilding, and so I went into it with pretty low expectations

What I didn't consider was that my friend is white.

To be fair, I'm not saying she doesn't have a point. Maybe this isn't the most beautiful prose or most intricate plot I've ever read

To be perfectly honest, I don't really care

You see, to her, the cool worldbuilding that she liked was just that: worldbuilding. (No hate to her whatsoever I adore her)

But this is my culture. I didn't even know how much it meant to me to see my culture in my favorite genre of book until it was right in front of me

I couldn't get enough of it

At every chance I got, I was reading

I was in the middle of a vacation and all I wanted to do was keep reading

And then

This happened (mild spoilers for the book):

And I was like ",,, oh??"

I read it again

Then I kept reading

And then a few pages later, this:

OH??????

I just kind of sat there and I processed what I'd just read

And then I took pictures

And then I read it again

And again

And again and again and again

And now I'm just sitting here

I can't

I can't handle this

I'm just sitting here, in the middle of a hotel room, unable to read another page of this book or look away or do anything at all other than stare in wonder

Because it's GAY

I can't handle this

I don't know what to do

I want to cry

I want to scream

I want to curl up into a ball

I want to track down the author and,,, I don't know? Hug her? Kiss her? Thank her? Ask for her autograph? Stand there grinning like an idiot? Offer her my services as a court jester? Kneel at her feet and swear fealty? Those last two probably go hand in hand tbh

Regardless, it doesn't matter what I want to do

Because I can't do anything at all

It's not just South Asian fantasy

It's GAY South Asian fantasy

This,,,

This means so much to me

Thank you, Tasha Suri.

From the bottom of my heart,

Thank you.

[rowdyhughesy]

I miss you, I’m sorry - Luke Hughes

“ When did I become so numb? When did I lose myself? All the words that leave my tongue feel like they came from someone else “

- paralyzed, nf

content warning: depression, mention of an abus!ve relationship. Toxic relationship.

Do not! read if this is something that triggers you!

word count: 1k

Do you remember happy together?

I do, don't you?

The covers are pulled up to his neck, eyes staring blankly at the wall. The dried tear tracks on his cheeks making the skin feel tight but he doesn’t have it in him anymore to care. It’s all he’s been doing for the last month, how there is any tears left to cry he’ll never understand but there are. His throat sore and scratchy from the sobs that’s been poring out of him like the sky when it rains. It’s never ending.

Good to each other, give it the summer

I knew, you too

But I only saw you once in December

I'm still confused

It didn’t come as a chock when she said she wanted a break. Nothing had been the same as it used to be. But even if it didn’t surprise him it still felt like a punch to his guts. ‘Only for the summer’ had been what she told him.

He didn’t know that only the summer would turn into months. Antagonising months wondering if she still loved him, if she still cared? He supposed she’d stopped doing both as the girl had gone radio silent on him.

The confusion is probably the hardest part. Wondering where he went wrong? What he did to make her scrutinise every little thing he did, if he could’ve done things different and maybe that would’ve made her stay.

It wasn’t until December he saw her again. On campus as he was walking to class together with Dylan and Luca. She didn’t look nearly as sad and hurt as he does. If at all.

She looked the same as she always had.

Then came what could be worded as the final blow.

Another man walking over and placing a kiss upon her lips, giggling as the unknown male hugged her after they pulled apart. Luca had made quick work of dragging Luke away from the sight. A desperate attempt of damage control.

He made it back to the sophomore house with the help of his friends before he broke down. Body shaking and incoherent mumbles falling from his lips. Curled into a ball on his bedroom floor.

Ethan had tried to get him to open the door, to let him in but he refused. All he wanted was for the ground to swallow him whole. Pull him down, down, down into its darkness until it doesn’t hurt anymore. Until his heart no longer feel like it’s been cut out of his chest.

You said, "forever," and I almost bought it.

I miss fighting in your old apartment

Breaking dishes when you're disappointed

When he finally gets some sleep, eyelids too heavy from exhaustion he can hear her voice in his dreams. Promising him that she will love him forever and more, that this is real. Then he wakes up and reality comes creeping back. The memories of screaming matches, the sound of porcelain breaking when she throws another glass at the wall.

Her face is red from screaming but there is no trace of actual sadness on her features. It’s only pure anger. Hands clenched at her sides before she grabs another item close to her, Luke has the chance to step aside before it hits him. He stands frozen for a couple of seconds before hastily putting on his shoes and half running out of her apartment.

His pulse feels like it’s beating a mile per millisecond. Cold sweats forming on the back of his neck.

He doesn’t say anything when he walks past the living room where all his teammates are gathered arguing about what movie to watch. He just hopes they won’t notice him because then he’ll have to explain why he’s been running in the middle of the night and why his eyes are bloodshot from crying.

Luckily for him nobody notifies the group of his presence if anyone saw him so he can slip inside his bedroom and lock the door behind him.

Sliding down the wall he leans his head in his hands. Wondering where it all went to shit.

Every corner of this house is haunted

And I know you said that we're not talking

But I miss you, I'm sorry

He knows about the whispers at parties, Dylan having told him from outside the door one night. How she tells everyone that they’re not together anymore. It seems as if everyone got the news of the breakup before he did. If there even had been a breakup to start with.

Luke hates how he misses her even after it all. Missing the girl he had made up in his mind.

She’s all over his room. Small things left behind that he hasn’t thrown away, he does not have it in him to return it. She hasn’t asked for any of it so there is a chance she’s forgotten it even existed in the first place. Just like she forgot him. The girl is no longer there but she still haunts him.

Everything I know brings me back to us

I don't wanna go, we've been here before

Everywhere I go leads me back to you

He longs for the day he won’t think of her the second he wakes. For the day he can do anything he wants without it reminding him of what they used to be.

The day he becomes free from the ghost of her haunting him every second of the day. That one day he will find someone that’s nothing like her.

Someone that won’t break his heart over and over again. That will love him as fearlessly as he loves, kindly and with honesty. That there is someone out there that will look at him as he is and don’t point out all the flaws and things he does wrong. Simply just love him as he is like how his brothers love him, like his parents love each other and how his friends love him too. No ulterior motives behind word they say and do.

As he sniffles and wipes the tears from his eyes he hopes that day will come soon. So his heart can finally stop breaking.