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#I feel like a few of these have been done before
gojoest · 2 days
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FIRST WORD — girl dad!gojo satoru
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girl dad satoru, established relationship (you’re married, it is indicated that you have two other kids besides the little one that appears in this drabble), nanami cameo, suggestive credits at the end (breeding hinted, just to be safe), sry this lowkey sucks + not proofread, i typed it out in 10 mins but i hope you enjoy!
satoru is trying really hard to get his little daughter to say “papa”, but oh well
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“come on, my life — say it”
satoru, crouched down before the baby chair where his little daughter is sitting, a picture of his face in one hand while the other alternates between pointing at the photo and then at his face, slowly repeats, over and over, with utmost perseverance and patience, the first word he wishes his little one would utter—
“pa-pa”, he carefully speaks, syllable by syllable. “pa-pa”, and again. “come on, baby — at least you don’t betray me, i know you’re papa’s girl — come on now, say it”, he pleads.
this has been going on for the past few weeks.
your entire house currently looks like the room of a teenager where it’s posters on the walls and little trinkets on the shelves, courtesy of heavy hyperfixations. but instead of posters and trinkets it’s your husband’s face, everywhere. kitchen, living room, hallways, your baby’s room — every-single-where and every-single-surface and wall has the photograph of your husband’s face on it. he even purchased custom-made plushies and toys of himself, some of which are hanging from the musical baby mobile above your daughter’s crib — but instead of music it’s his voice, teaching his toddler through made-up songs how to say ‘papa’.
“satoru, don’t you think this is a little bit, um— “, you once brought up, pausing to clear your throat, trying your best to sound softer while you say this. knowing how sensitive he is about the matter, and how devoted to have this innocuous win — “…too much? hm, love? it’s like you’re… brainwashing the baby…”
lips immediately pursed, satoru pouted under his nose — “easy for you to say, our two other kids said ‘mama’ first — effortlessly, at that. let me have this one at least”
okay, you shrugged and backed off.
and this morning, as you sipped on your coffee, you silently watched your husband in the kitchen — kneeled down before the baby chair, going about his educational routine.
after he was done with the photos, he took your daughter’s hand and pressed her fingers on his lips, while he kept repeating the word ‘papa’. he said that this method allows the baby to see the way your mouth moves as you speak but also hear and feel the sound all at the same time. (he sure has read a lot of things on the internet)
but your little one remained silent, only giggling here and there as she poked around her father’s face, completely refusing to cooperate with him despite his desperate attempts.
it is an endearing sight, really. part of you felt pity for your husband, you cannot lie. he was trying so hard, and for what...
all of a sudden,
the doorbell rings.
“i’ll take it”, you quickly pad over to open the door.
it’s nanami — dropping by with some baked treats for the kids, as he often does. your children love him a lot. during dinner gatherings he always sneaks away to read them bedtime stories. even though he doesn’t look like the type on the surface, he sure has a soft spot for children. and, truth be told, they are all naturally drawn to him as well. maybe it’s his calm demeanor and the sense of safety he brings along with his presence.
“ah, thank you — these look so delicious, i am sure the kids will die for a bite”, you chime, as you guide him into the kitchen.
“oh— nanami, it’s you”, satoru casually points out without even turning his head to greet him, his eyes glued on his little daughter… who seems to be looking elsewhere, past her father…
…at nanami.
a bit bothered by that, satoru shifts a little bit to the side, to block the view — to, once again, be the main focus in his daughter’s eyes. but, alas…
she tilts her head, googly eyes glancing at the blond man behind her father.
she opens her mouth, a giggle first escapes, and then—
“na-na—”, she pauses… “—mi” — a beam of laughter and her hands reaching forward, pointing at nanami.
silence in the kitchen befalls.
you cover your mouth with a hand, trying to prevent yourself from bursting into laughter. it’s tragic but funny at the same time, and you know — in just a few seconds the real baby in this room will not be your daughter.
“nanami”, satoru slowly stands up, shoulders hanging low and voice — monotone and stern. “get out”
p.s.: satoru makes a scene. he is absolutely devastated. you have to drag him away and pick up the pieces and calm him down. and, of course, he thinks — the only way to make things better is to give him another child. a new opportunity…and you need to get down to business, now. while nanami is babysitting downstairs.
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luveline · 1 day
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hey!! I'd love to see one where maybe jack and hotch try speaking to the baby in pregnant!reader's tummy :))
thank you for requesting! fem, 1k
You sniff Aaron’s hair. It’s your right as his wife to enjoy his smells. You’re too tired for subtlety. “You know how many weeks I am today?” you ask. 
You’re in a bubble together. Aaron answers with his usual calm tenor. “You are twenty seven weeks today, honey.” 
It’s endearing that he knows. It’s nice to have found a good one. To never have to worry about compassion or care. Which isn’t to say he’s perfect, he makes wrong decisions, and he disappoints you sometimes, but still, he’s a good one. You aren’t perfect either and you don’t have to be, all you need to do is love and respect one another as much as is physically possible, and you do.  
“Mm,” you hum, drawing a heart into his arm, “and you know what they say around this time?” 
“I’m not sure.” 
“She can hear you, if you want to talk to her.” 
“Really?” 
“That’s what I read earlier on. That if you talk to her through my stomach, she can probably hear your voice. By full term she’ll have hearing like me and you.” 
“Is that true?” he asks, resting his hand on your bump. Sometimes when the baby is in a bad mood and her foot feels like it’s making a bruise through your skin, all Aaron has to do is touch you, and she stops. 
“Well, according to the baby book. They say by twenty nine weeks it’s a sure thing.” 
“Can I speak to her?” 
You brush through his hair with your pinky nail. “Sure, sweetheart. You can talk to her all night long, I’m sure she’d love to hear your voice.” You push the hair from his forehead. “I like hearing you talk.” 
“Lay back,” he says. 
Aaron sits up and you lay down, your head in the pillows, your pregnancy cushion a support on your left side. He slides your t-shirt up slowly as though giving you time to say no. He begins to rub slow circles around the bump, before laying his head flat to he bed, his lip less than two inches from your distended tummy. 
“Hi, baby,” he says, unabashed. “How are you feeling?” 
You laugh. He peeks up at you. 
“Sorry, it’s just funny.” 
“It’s okay. I’d laugh if you started asking my stomach questions too…” He smiles. “But my baby’s in there, so you’ll have to forgive me.” 
“I won’t laugh again, promise.” 
“It’s fine if you do. I’m finding it hard to take myself seriously.” He slows his rubbing. “Baby, if you can hear me, please say hi… I love you. I’m so happy you’re getting bigger.” 
The longer he talks, the less funny it becomes. His melodic murmuring turns praising, he talks of you and Jack and every amazing thing waiting for the baby in the world when she’s done cooking. He tells her he loves her, loves you, that she’s beautiful even though she’s shaped like a GMO kidney bean. He’s totally relaxed. You fall in love with him all over again. 
“And it looks like your big brother wants to say hi too,” he says. 
You perk up. Footsteps rush down the hall to the master bedroom, and a knock echoes fast. Jack doesn’t wait for an answer, bursting in with a happy gasp. “I knew you were still awake,” he says. “Please can I come watch TV with you?” 
“Sure, buddy, but we aren’t watching anything right now,” Aaron says. 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m talking to your sister.” 
Jack leans against the bed, fingers screwing in Aaron’s shirt unthinkingly. “You are?” 
“I read in my book today that she can maybe hear you when you talk to her,” you tell him. “Would you want to talk to her, bud?” 
“Can I?” 
“Sure. I don’t mind. I’d love for you to say hello, ‘cos how special is that? For the last few weeks, all she’s been able to hear is me. She doesn’t know she has a whole family waiting for her.” 
Aaron straightens and helps Jack climb onto the bed. He settles at the pillows with you, leaning down briefly to kiss you, lips misaligned but no less gentle. 
“What do I say?” Jack whispers, putting his hand carefully on your bump. 
“You can say anything you want,” you whisper back. “You can say hi, or you can tell her something. The best thing about babies is that we get to teach them about everything.” 
“Okay, um… well,” —he braces himself with two hands on your tummy and leans in— “you can’t see, but we have a dad with brown hair and brown eyes, and we have a super pretty mommy who smiles all the time at me…” Jack’s cheek tips toward his shoulder. “On Sunday they take me to the library and we stay there all morning. And for dinner we always have, um, one hand of vegetables and one hand of chicken, or pork, or pasta. But it’s okay if you can’t finish everything.” 
He looks at his father. “Is that okay?” he asks. 
Aaron offers his hand. “Buddy, that’s perfect. You can tell her anything that you want. She just wants to hear your voice.” 
“Can I tell her about teenage mutant ninja turtles?” 
You laugh. “Sure,” Aaron says. 
Jack starts to talk about Donatello. You try not to laugh as his little hands tickle you, turning your face into Aaron’s side. 
“I have so many things to say to you right now, but I’m worried it’s too saccharine,” he says. 
“Save them for later,” you say, hugging his waist. “Can I nap here? Would you rub my arm?” 
Aaron rubs your arm as you’ve asked. You fall asleep to the sound of your stepsons mumbled rambling and Aaron’s occasional breathy laugh. 
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moonstruckme · 1 day
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Hi doll! I love ur new theme btw.
could I request Spencer Reid with (number 3) hands stained with pen ink 🐤? x
Hi baby! Thank you <3
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 454 words
“Breaker locale.” You tap beside your mouth absentmindedly. “Three letters.”
“Locale?” Spencer checks. 
“Mhm.” 
“Do we have any letters?” 
“If we’re right about sixteen down, then there’s an A in the middle.” 
You’re definitely right about sixteen down. Spencer had gotten that one, and you’ve yet to see the day where he has to scratch something out in the crossword. He’s done most of it, actually, leaving the final few to you while you munch on your toast and he makes coffee. 
“Could it be like an electrical breaker?” you wonder aloud. “Like a breaker box? The breakers live in the box, don’t they?” 
“Not if the second letter is A…” Spencer sounds stumped. You raise your eyebrows at his back and he puts down the bag of coffee grounds, staring at nothing for a few seconds. “Breaker locale…” 
“Maybe it’s like a place where people who break stuff live? Is there a city like that?” 
Spencer shakes his head wordlessly. He finishes messing with the coffee machine and turns it on, coming around the counter to look over your shoulder. 
He exhales a soft laugh. “Lab.” 
“Lab?” You don’t get it even remotely, but you’re already filling the letters in. “How?” 
“It says beaker locale.” 
You find the clue and read it again. “Oh,” you laugh, pressing your fingers to your eyes. “Dumb.” 
“Not dumb,” Spencer chides lightly. “You just misread it. Hey.” He knuckles the corner of your lips. “Be careful not to get ink in your mouth.”
You blink, then wipe the spot with your thumb. It comes away tinged blue. “Oh, god.” You roll your eyes. “I didn’t even realize I was tapping it with my pen. Guess I’m really not having my most intellectual morning.” 
“Don’t say that,” Spencer admonishes you again, but he’s smiling, fingers grasping your jaw as he comes in for a kiss. It’s soft and sweet and feels like the glowy yellow your apartment turns in the morning light. When he pulls away after a few seconds, his smile slips before righting itself again. “Oh. Sorry.” 
“Hm?” 
“You’ve got…” He grimaces sheepishly, holding up the hand that had been on your face. Three of his fingertips are blue. 
“Oh my god.” You laugh, going to the bathroom to see. And yup, there are three blue splotches spread along your jaw, two on one side and one on the other. “Spencer!”
“I’m sorry,” you hear him laugh from the kitchen. “You already had the ones by your mouth anyway, though. They’ll wash off.” 
“These are worse than hickeys, you know that, right?” 
“I don’t really see how…but if they don’t come off and you want a hickey to divert attention from them, I can do that.”
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apollogeticx · 2 days
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✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ LABOUR ♡·˚
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— [♡] ; souls tied by fate will inevitably cross paths again. 。°. gojo satoru
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tags: endgame gojo satoru, afab!reader, slow burn, pregnancy, regret, hurt/comfort, angst, co-parenting, vulnerable gojo satoru, past suguru geto x reader, past rejection, longing, bittersweet, I'm dramatic so I write dramatic shit, chapter one of ten
wc. 2.7K
prologue | part 2
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The decision settled in your heart like a stone—cold, hard, and undeniable. You couldn’t stay at Jujutsu High anymore, not after everything that had happened. There was nothing left for you here but the constant reminder of Gojo’s rejection, and the emptiness it left inside you. Suguru Geto had offered a new path, one that resonated with the bitter anger building in your chest. It was risky, dangerous even, but at this point, you didn’t care. What did you have to lose?
The world outside Jujutsu High seemed vast and unforgiving, but it was nothing compared to the loneliness you felt within its walls. Geto’s name was whispered among the students with fear and disdain, but you saw something different now. He had the strength to break away, to challenge the system that had let him down, and if anyone could understand the pain of rejection, it was him.
The first step was to find him, which was easier said than done. Geto was no longer a visible presence in the sorcerer world. He had gone underground, building his own network of cursed users and spirits. The whispers about his whereabouts were few and far between, but you clung to the faintest rumors like lifelines, searching for any clue that would lead you to him.
Your chance finally came one evening, as you overheard two upperclassmen talking in hushed tones about a recent sighting of Geto. They mentioned a remote area where cursed energy had been felt, a place known for being a hideout for rogue sorcerers. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
You left that night, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination. You knew the consequences of what you were about to do—if anyone found out, you’d be labeled a traitor, just like Geto. But that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was getting away from the pain that had consumed you and finding a new purpose.
The journey was long and arduous, taking you through unfamiliar streets and rural roads. With each step, the doubt in your mind grew louder. What if he didn’t want you? What if he turned you away, just like Gojo had? The thought of facing yet another rejection made your stomach twist in knots, but you pushed forward. You had to know. You had to try.
Finally, after what felt like na eternity, you arrived at the rumored hideout—a dilapidated building on the outskirts of na abandoned village. The air around the area was thick with cursed energy, almost suffocating. You hesitated at the threshold, fear creeping up your spine, but you steeled yourself and stepped inside.
The interior was dark, lit only by the faint glow of cursed energy radiating from various objects strewn about. You could sense the presence of others, though you couldn’t see them. Shadows moved in the corners of the room, watching you, but you kept your focus straight ahead.
And then, you saw him.
Suguru Geto stood at the far end of the room, his back turned to you as he spoke quietly with one of his followers. Even from this distance, his presence was commanding, the air around him heavy with power. There was something about him that felt both intimidating and strangely familiar, as if you were looking at the reflection of everything you had been feeling—the bitterness, the anger, the sense of abandonment.
He turned around slowly, his gaze landing on you with a piercing intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. His dark eyes seemed to see right through you, reading every thought and emotion as if they were laid bare before him. For a moment, you wondered if you had made a mistake—if this had been a foolish, reckless decision.
But you had come too far to turn back now.
“What do we have here?” Geto’s voice was smooth and calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it. He studied you, his expression unreadable. “You’re not one of mine.”
You swallowed, your throat dry, and forced yourself to speak. “I came to find you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I—I’ve been studying at Jujutsu High, but I can’t stay there anymore. I’ve seen… I’ve read about what you believe in. And I… I want to join you.”
There was a flicker of amusement in Geto’s eyes as he raised na eyebrow. “You want to join me?” he repeated, his tone laced with skepticism. “And what exactly do you think you have to offer?”
Your heart sank at his words. You knew you were nothing compared to the powerful sorcerers that surrounded him. You were just a student, someone who had been cast aside by the very person you had admired most. But you also knew that your desire to serve his cause, to belong somewhere, burned stronger than anything else.
“I don’t have much,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I’m not the strongest sorcerer, and I don’t have any followers. But I understand how it feels to be abandoned, to be rejected by the world. I’m ready to serve your purpose, whatever it takes.”
For a long moment, Geto said nothing, his eyes never leaving yours. The silence was suffocating, each second stretching into eternity. You stood there, exposed and vulnerable, waiting for his judgment. In that moment, it felt as if your entire life hung in the balance. If he accepted you, you would have a new purpose, a new place to belong. But if he rejected you…
Finally, after what felt like na eternity, Geto’s expression softened, and a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“You’re eager,” he said quietly. “That much is clear. But eagerness alone isn’t enough. My cause isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s dangerous, and it requires a level of conviction that few possess.”
You nodded quickly, desperation creeping into your voice. “I understand. I’ll prove myself, if you give me the chance.”
Geto regarded you for another long moment, as if weighing his options. Then, with a slight nod, he turned away from you, signaling the conversation was over. “Very well,” he said. “If you want to join me, go back to Jujutsu High. Pack your things. Leave everything behind. Once you’ve done that, come back. If you’re serious, I’ll know.”
Your heart leapt in your chest at his words—he was giving you a chance. It wasn’t a full acceptance, not yet, but it was something. You bowed your head quickly in gratitude before turning to leave.
As you stepped out of the hideout and into the cool night air, your mind raced with a mixture of excitement and fear. You had taken the first step toward a new life, toward leaving behind everything that had hurt you.
Now all that was left was to return to Jujutsu High, pack your things, and leave for good. There was no turning back now.
The night was unnervingly quiet as you made your way back to Jujutsu High, the soft rustling of leaves the only sound accompanying you. The moon hung low in the sky, its pale light casting long shadows across the ground. Your mind buzzed with the events that had just unfolded—Geto had accepted you, even if it was only tentative. The prospect of belonging to something, of having a purpose again, gave you a strange sense of comfort, but it was wrapped in na unsettling realization.
To fully embrace this new path, you had to leave everything behind.
As you approached the school grounds, a wave of nostalgia hit you. The familiar hallways, the training grounds, even the library where you had spent so many hours—all of it felt like a distant memory, as if you were already na outsider looking in. These places had once held significance, but now they were nothing more than relics of a past life. You had made up your mind; you would abandon all of it for a chance at something more—something that could give meaning to the ache you carried inside.
The dormitory was dark and still when you returned to your room. Your belongings were strewn about, a quiet reminder of the life you had lived here. You hesitated for a moment, standing in the doorway and letting your gaze drift over the small space that had been your home for so long. It was strange how quickly it all felt irrelevant.
With a deep breath, you began packing your things. You moved with mechanical precision, folding clothes and stuffing them into your bag, taking only what you absolutely needed. As your hands grazed over small personal items, you realized how little they meant now. There was no point in holding onto these things—mementos of a life you no longer wanted to be part of. A gift from a classmate, a framed photo of your team during a mission, a charm you had once carried for protection—they all seemed to mock you now.
Your hand hovered over the chocolates you had made for Gojo, the same ones he had so casually rejected weeks ago. They had been sitting untouched for so long, the once carefully crafted gift now rotting and forgotten. A bitter taste filled your mouth as you stared at the box, the last remnant of your foolish hopes - now laying in your trashcan.
As you zipped up your bag, you felt a strange sense of liberation. You were finally doing it—leaving behind the person you had been, the person who had been too afraid to act, too afraid to take control of her own fate. You were stepping into a new future, one where you could be strong, where your pain had a purpose. Suguru Geto had shown you that.
You slung the bag over your shoulder, taking one last look at the room. It felt distant already, like a ghost of a life you once knew. Without hesitation, you turned and left, walking silently through the darkened halls of Jujutsu High. Every step away from the dorms felt like shedding na old skin, leaving behind the memories and emotions that had weighed you down for so long.
Your feet moved automatically, each step taking you further from Jujutsu High and further from Gojo, you didn’t dare look back, afraid that if you did, you might falter, might hesitate. You had made your choice. You had committed to this path, and there was no turning back now.
The night air was cold against your skin, and with every step, the familiar halls and grounds of Jujutsu High faded into the distance. There was na ache in your chest, a deep, gnawing pain that threatened to overwhelm you, but you forced it down, telling yourself that this was the right choice. That Geto would understand, that his ideals would give you the strength you needed to find purpose.
By the time you reached the outskirts of the town, the sky had started to lighten, a soft glow spreading across the horizon as dawn approached. You kept your head down, avoiding the few early risers who were beginning their day. No one paid you any attention. To them, you were just another traveler, just another person passing through.
Your destination was clear—the same dilapidated building you had found before, where Geto’s presence had been strongest. The cursed energy in the area was unmistakable, and the faint pulse of it called to you like a beacon, guiding you back to him.
As you walked, the reality of what you were about to do began to settle in. You were leaving everything—your friends, your teachers, your life as a jujutsu sorcerer behind. The people you had trained with, the ones who had fought alongside you, they would all consider you a traitor. But for some reason, that didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. You were tired of being invisible, of feeling like na outsider in your own life. With Geto, maybe you would finally belong somewhere.
After hours of walking, you finally reached the hideout once again. The building loomed before you, dark and foreboding, just as it had before. There was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there the first time, as if the entire area was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
You hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside.
This time, the space felt different. The shadows seemed heavier, and the cursed energy more oppressive. You could sense other presences here—Geto’s followers, cursed spirits lurking just out of sight, their eyes on you, watching, waiting. But you didn’t waver. You had already made your decision.
As you ventured deeper into the building, you found him in the same spot as before, standing with his back to you, his long dark hair spilling over his shoulders. He was speaking with one of his followers in a low voice, but the moment you entered the room, his attention shifted. Without turning around, he acknowledged your presence with a quiet, “You came back.”
His voice sent a shiver down your spine—not out of fear, but because of the power it carried, the certainty in his words. It was so unlike the doubt you had felt at Jujutsu High. Here, in Geto’s world, there was no room for second-guessing. Everything he said, everything he believed, had a purpose. You wanted to be part of that.
“I did,” you replied, your voice steady despite the nervousness you felt. “I left everything behind, just like you said.”
Geto finally turned to face you, his eyes sharp and assessing. He looked you over, taking in the sight of you with your bag slung over your shoulder, your expression determined despite the fear you tried to hide. A slow, almost approving smile curled at the corner of his lips.
“And why, exactly, should I take you in?” he asked, his tone calm but laced with a challenge. “What can you offer me that my other followers can’t?”
You had expected this question, but it didn’t make answering it any easier. You had thought about this moment the entire way back, rehearsing what you would say, but now that you stood in front of him, words failed you. What could you offer? You weren’t the strongest sorcerer, you weren’t experienced in battle. All you had was your conviction, your desire to follow him.
“I—I’m not the strongest,” you admitted, your voice faltering for just a moment before you regained your composure. “But I’m ready to dedicate myself to your cause. I’ve seen how the world works, how it doesn’t care about people like us. I want to change that, to be part of something greater.”
Geto’s eyes remained fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He studied you for what felt like na eternity, and you could feel the weight of his judgment pressing down on you. Then, finally, he spoke again, his voice softer, but no less commanding.
“Conviction is important,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “But dedication without strength is a liability.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, Geto raised a hand to silence you. “Still, you’ve come this far, and I can see that you’re serious. I’ll give you a chance to prove yourself.”
Relief flooded through you, though it was quickly tempered by the realization of what that might entail. Geto wasn’t someone who handed out second chances easily. Whatever he asked of you, it wouldn’t be simple.
“You’ll stay here, for now,” he continued, gesturing to the room around you. “Train with my followers, learn from them. When the time comes, we’ll see if you’re truly ready to stand by my side.”
You nodded, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement. This was what you had wanted—a chance, a purpose, something to fight for. And now, Geto had given it to you.
“Thank you,” you said quietly, bowing your head in gratitude.
Before you could fully process it, a voice rang out from the entrance of the hideout, sharp and commanding.
“So, this is where you ran off to.”
Your heart froze in your chest.
Satoru Gojo stood at the threshold, his blindfold gone, revealing his piercing blue eyes that glowed with a mixture of anger and something else—something deeper, more intense.
He had found you.
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notes: thank you for reading the first chapter! if you wanna be tagged just let me know!
taglist: @username23345 @arminswifee @tomiokasecretlover @ffyona1214 @tojirin @eggrollforyou @ironicsss
©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.
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soaps-mohawk · 14 hours
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
What Could Have Been
Summary: You've reached the age you can be chosen. Little do you know your future has been planned out from the start.
Pairing: Philip Graves x reader
Word Count: 7, 358 words
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, a/b/o, Omegaverse, Alternate Universe, AU of an AU, suggestive content, mentioned predatory behaviors towards a minor, Philip Graves is a major creep, reader has a set age for plot (she is an adult), dubcon (pushing noncon at the end) but it's muddy water because a/b/o, kissing, touching, lingerie, panic, coercion, virginity and purity culture, fade to black because I couldn't write smut for this
A/N: I am...very sorry for this. Honestly I've been debating posting it but I wrote 7k words and I don't want that to go to waste. This is very...dark. A lot is implied but there's still some fairly disturbing content because of those things. The reader is 18 in this because of plot, but it still feels very...icky. Definitely recommend reading Chapter 34 before reading this to understand the context. Not necessary to read. Just an AU what if kind of bit for the story.
Also if you're finding this and you've never seen my stuff before, Hi! I highly recommend reading Cherry Red, Crimson Blood first before this for context otherwise some things might not make sense. I suppose it could be read as a stand alone but still, context is nice to have
What Ifs Masterlist | Directory
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“You’ve been chosen.” 
You had barely managed to get a bite in of breakfast when one of the staff members had pulled you away and led you to the director’s office. None of the omegas at FIOT particularly like him. He’s a small man, middle aged and balding. His scent is...not pleasant. Nutty with undertones of wet animals and whatever he ate for his meals that day. Every omega in the institute dreads being called to his office, being closed in with the offensive smell he permeates. 
You would have been experiencing that same disgust had it not been for your shock at his words. “What?” You breathe, eyes wide. 
“You’ve been chosen.” He repeats, folding his hands on his desk over a thin file. 
“So soon?” You ask, forgetting all decorum and manners you’ve had drilled into your head for two years. 
It’s your eighteenth birthday today. You just became old enough to be chosen a matter of hours ago. 
“This pack is very eager to claim you as their omega.” He says. “One of their betas will be by tomorrow to interview you.” 
Your heart flutters in your chest. While it’s shocking you were chosen so soon, this is what you had hoped for. Two years of training and drilling perfection into your head did pay off. You’ve hardly been on the available list more than a few hours and already there’s a pack interested in you. Something about it has a chill running down your spine, tickling at the base of your neck. You brush it off as shock at this all happening so soon. 
“You may return to breakfast.” The director says, going back to his paperwork. 
“Thank you, sir.” You say, exiting his office. 
It doesn’t feel like your feet touch the floor as you walk back to the mess hall, your body floating as you make your way through the halls. If tomorrow goes well, this will be the last day you spend in this building, this prison you’ve been confined to. They’ll be here as early as they can be tomorrow, if they’re this eager to choose you. 
The thought has something prickling in the back of your mind still. 
Who are they? Who is this eager to choose you? The must have known about you before you even showed up in the registry as being available. You’ve heard rumors that institutes will supply information about omegas to packs for the right price under the table. Information on omegas that aren’t old enough to be chosen. 
You wouldn’t be surprised if FIOT was one of those institutes. The packs that get their omegas here are packs that can pay a hefty price. There’s usually a waiting period while background checks are done and information has to be verified and packs have to interview with the director before omegas themselves can even be interviewed by the pack. You’ve seen it take weeks before. 
Whoever the alpha of this pack is...they knew about you before you became available. 
“What did the director want?” One of the omegas in your age group asks as you take your seat at the table again. Amanda. She cried for five days when she was brought in. 
The others at the table lean in close, like you’re about to reveal some big secret. 
“I’ve been chosen.” You tell them. The words almost seem like a foreign language on your tongue. 
They all cheer happily, getting looks from the wardens around the mess hall. 
“That’s amazing!” Chelsea says, wrapping her arms around you to squeeze you in a tight hug. 
“So soon?” Amanda asks as the congratulations die down. 
“Yeah.” You say. “They’re interviewing me tomorrow.” 
They all share looks, and you know they’re thinking the same thing you are. 
The rumors are true.
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“Impressive, isn’t she?” The warden for your dorm group says, as if you’re not sitting there too. She’s responsible for overseeing the small group of eight omegas you’re a part of. She’s the most knowledgeable about the omegas under her watchful eyes, and it’s standard practice for the wardens to sit in on the interviews between the pack beta and the omega being chosen. 
“Quite.” The beta says, looking over your thick file. Bryan, he’d introduced himself as. He’d shaken your hand, something you hadn’t been expecting. He acknowledged you as existing right away, something that doesn’t happen often in the stories you’ve heard about interviews, stories from omegas that had made it this far in the process, but were rejected in the end. “Excellent scores, quite extensive essays.” He says, flipping through the file. He’s not really looking at it. You can see his eyes just scanning the pages. He already knows. He came into the building with his answer. 
Whoever his alpha is has already seen your file. 
He closes the file, pushing it forward on the table. He’s looking at you. You can feel his eyes on you. Yours are lowered respectfully, no matter how badly you want to stare back at him. 
“To be honest, my alpha already made his decision before I got here.” Bryan says, leaning his arms on the table. “Your profile was enough to convince him.” 
“So, you’d like to move forward with the process?” Warden Jameson asks. 
“Yes.” He says, nodding. “She’s going to be a perfect fit.” 
You glance up at him, a warm smile on his face as he stares at you. It’s really happening. You really have been chosen. 
The next hour is a flurry of paperwork and signatures. None from you, of course, but from the beta of your new pack. The paperwork would be sent to your new alpha to sign off on and to finalize the decision once you meet him. No one has ever been sent back after that point, yet you can’t help the nervous flutter in your stomach. What if they don’t like you after all? What if they made a hasty decision and regret it as soon as they meet you? What if you mess everything up?
You follow Bryan and the director towards the entrance to the building, something you haven’t seen since your tour after your arrival. It’s off limits to omegas, several locked doors standing between them and freedom. 
Or more like to keep others out. 
There’s someone at the front desk as you pass by, and you turn to look out of curiosity. It’s a middle aged woman with blonde hair, dressed in a business suit. “Kate Laswell, here for an appointment with Director Jones.” 
You don’t get to hear anything else, ushered out into the world by the director. You’ve heard how giddy he gets about omegas leaving from staff, though you supposed that’s because it’s extra money in his pockets. The more omegas he can match and get out of FIOT, the more the government pays him. 
“I’m looking forward to hearing how she’s settling in.” The director says to Bryan as he hands off your small bag of meager belongings. 
“Of course.” Bryan says, setting it in the front seat of the car waiting out front. “My alpha will be in touch.” 
“Good.” He shakes Bryan’s hand before turning to you. “Good luck. I expect the best from you.” 
“Thank you, sir.” You say, dropping your gaze out of respect. 
Bryan opens the car door for you and you slide in, smoothing out your skirt. You’re still in your uniform, and you won’t be able to change until you get to where you’re going. If they let you change. It’s important they remember where you came from, where you were taught the things you’re supposed to know, where you were trained to be the perfect omega. As if they could forget where they paid for you. 
Bryan drives away from the institute, taking you away from the place that’s been your home for the last two years. It’s the first time you’ve been outside those walls since you were forced in, ripped away from your home the day after your presentation. You’ve thought about your family many times over the last two years. Where are they now? How are they doing? What have your siblings been up to? Have any of them presented as omegas too? 
Maybe your new alpha will let you contact them again. 
It’s wishful thinking. Most don’t. Not the kinds of alphas that buy from FIOT. 
“Nervous?” Bryan asks, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. 
“Yes, sir.” You say, smoothing your hands over your skirt. You’re projecting your scent without even realizing it. “Sorry, sir.” 
He smiles. “I don’t blame you. I’d be nervous too. Don’t worry, though. You’re going to a good place.” 
Despite his well meaning words, you can’t help but feel a bit of trepidation. Is it a good place? Or is it only a good place by beta’s standards? He can’t possibly know, he can’t possibly understand, unless there’s other omegas. 
You’re almost excited by the thought of being around other omegas in a pack. Having that chance to have friends and bond with others like you who know. Those who understand. 
You can’t help but stare as Bryan pulls into the parking garage of a very nice hotel. The cars in the parking garage are some of the most expensive you’ve ever seen. You’re not surprised, given the types of alphas that choose omegas from FIOT. Rich, important alphas looking for trophies to wave around. 
Look at me, look at my perfect omega. 
Bryan opens your door for you, helping you out of the car. He’s holding your bag in his hand, using the other to guide you towards the elevator. His hand is warm, even though your back is beginning to sweat a bit. You’re really nervous now, but you try to keep your scent under control. 
Your new life is about to begin, the life of a claimed omega. 
Unless they don’t like you. 
You have to do everything in your power to make sure they do.
The elevator ride seems to take a lifetime as you go up to a high floor overlooking the city. You’ve never stayed in a hotel this nice before. You’ve never even been in a building with this many floors before. 
Bryan leads you down the hall to a door, using the keycard to open it. He gives you a reassuring smile before pushing it open and guiding you through. It’s a suite, possibly the nicest hotel room you’ve ever seen. Bryan leads you to the small living area, the man you assume is your alpha seated on one of the couches. He’s sitting there casually, ankle crossed over his knee, his arm thrown over the back of the couch. There’s a grin on his face, your eyes widening as you stare at him. 
“Phil?” 
It comes out before you can stop it, all training and decorum leaving as you stare at him in shock. His smile widens, showing off perfect white teeth and dimples. He’s a bit older now than he had been back then, but it is him. 
“Hi darlin’.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “Been a while.” 
Ten years or so. He was your dad’s best friend while he was stationed in Texas. He was at your house constantly, sitting around watching sports and standing in the backyard while your father barbequed. He was always friendly to you, always sitting just a little too close, always hovering. You hadn’t thought anything about it back then. You were too young to understand. 
Now you do. 
You drop your gaze as he approaches, trying to recover from your shock. You still have an impression to make, a role to fill. Calloused fingers cup your chin, lifting your face back up. You stare up into Phil’s bright blue eyes, just as friendly as you remember them being. 
“None of that.” He says softly. “We’re familiar with each other, aren’t we?” 
“Yes, sir.” You say, swallowing thickly. 
A small smile tugs at his lips before he releases you. “Come on, make yourself comfortable.” He motions to the couches. “We've got a few things to discuss.”
Nerves twist in your stomach as you move to the couches, tucking your skirt under you before you sit. The couch is comfortable, your body sinking into the cushion. It's far more comfortable than the chairs and benches at the institute. He takes a seat right next to you, draping an arm across the back of the couch behind you. 
His fingers curl under your chin again, turning your head so you're looking at him. Those bright blue eyes scan your face, taking in every detail.
“Those pictures didn't do you any justice.” He says. Your file is sitting on the table in front of you. “You've always been a pretty little thing.” His thumb traces your jaw, your stomach churning. “Look like your mom more than your dad. That's certainly not a bad thing.” He smirks. 
He holds you there for a moment staring into your eyes. Something tickles in the back of your mind as he stares at you, something instinctual like a warning. He releases you, dropping his hand back onto his lap. 
“It's good to see you again.” He says, the fingers of the hand behind you playing with the strands of your hair. “A lot has changed, hasn't it? I got old, you became an omega. I always knew you would. Your temperament wasn't right for an alpha. Always so calm and eager to please. You weren't rowdy like your brothers. Always such a sweet little thing.” His fingers trail over the back of one of your hands where it's draped in your lap. Your stomach clenches at his touch, something churning inside you, something you haven't felt since the last time you were around him. “You didn't deserve the way he treated you. It wasn't your fault for becoming what you are.”
He's talking about your father. 
“How did you-”
“I was the one he called.” Phil says simply. “Raging and carrying on about his useless child presenting as an omega.” He shakes his head. “So I pulled some strings, promised some favors, and got you into FIOT immediately, with the stipulation that you would be mine as soon as you were old enough.” He grins. “Now here we are!”
You swallow thickly, staring at him. “It was you?”
He nods. “Had to make sure you'd be taken care of until I could come yet you myself. Now you’re here.” His arm wraps tighter around you, the hand that had been brushing yours dropping to wrap around your thigh. You stare up at him as he leans down slightly closer to you. He smells just like you remember. Woody with the rich scent of chocolate underneath. “I will take care of you.” He says, looking pointedly into your eyes. “You'll want for nothing and you'll be happy.”
Will you? 
You break away first, your eyes dropping to stare at the hand that’s gripping your thigh, fingers indenting the skin through your tights. It feels like a threat, a silent reminder of the power dynamic between you, something he won’t say out loud. He’s an alpha, you’re only an omega. He has control over you, he can dictate your entire life now that you’ve been chosen by him. You belong to him, just as he’s wanted. 
He’s been waiting longer than two years. 
“You hungry?” He asks, his entire demeanor suddenly shifting. 
You are hungry. You had left the institute just before lunch, and you had barely been able to eat breakfast because of the nerves. You nod, deciding telling the truth is better than to try to lie to him early on. “Yes, sir.” 
He gives you a grin. “You don’t have to be so formal. You can call me Phil, just like old times.” He finally releases you, leaning forward to grab a tri-fold menu off the table. “Pick whatever you like.” He says, putting it in your hands. “I’ll be right back.” 
He gets up from the couch and you watch him go before turning back to the menu. The prices make your stomach churn. Your family wasn’t necessarily poor, but with so many of you, you certainly weren’t taking very many vacations very often. Your family moved around so much there wasn’t much of a need to take vacations either. 
You’re not even sure what to do, looking at the menu. What was acceptable? What if you ordered something too expensive. With a hotel room like this, you’re not sure you could order something too expensive. You’re not even quite sure what Phil does anymore. You remember overhearing a conversation he had with your dad about joining MARSOC before he disappeared from your lives. Is he still involved with the military? Did he leave and enter a new career field, one that allows him to stay in places like this? 
You might never know. It’s not your job to know things like that. 
You just need to know how to serve your alpha and take care of him, follow his orders and give him pups when he desires them. Be a good omega and do whatever it is he wants. Your wants don’t matter, only your alpha’s. 
“Decide what you want?” Phil asks, appearing in front of you again. 
You jump in surprise, having been so caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed him approaching. You’ll have to break that habit and fast. “Yes.” You say, even though you hadn’t even read through the menu in its entirety. 
You try to stop your hands from shaking, picking out the first thing your eyes land on. You’re not even quite sure what it is or if you’ll like it. You needed an answer and you gave it to him. Just exactly what he wanted. 
That is your job, after all. 
Give him exactly what he wants. 
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The bed looks plush and comfortable, larger than you’ve slept on in a long time. The beds at FIOT weren’t too terribly uncomfortable, but you’ve gotten so used to sharing a room it seems strange to be sleeping on your own. 
That’s not the only reason it feels strange. 
“Are you not going to-” 
Phil cuts you off before you can finish, not even needing to know what you were going to ask. “No. Not here.” He says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s for when we’re at home. Besides,” He smooths a hand over your hair. “You’ve had a long day.” 
He stares down at you for a moment, and you almost think he’s changing his mind, deciding he can’t wait until you’re back in Texas. Instead he takes a step back, turning to the dresser your bag had been set on. There’s other shopping bags next to it, things you hadn't even noticed when you walked in. 
You had been too focused on the bed. 
“Bryan picked up some clothes.” He turns back to look at you, his hand trailing down your back. “As cute as the uniform is, I’d rather you be comfortable.” 
You can see it in his eyes. He’s picturing you in it, and not standing before him. It makes your skin crawl. 
“Get some sleep.” He says, moving his hand from your lower back. “We’ve got an early flight tomorrow. You need anything, I’m across the hall and Bryan’s next door.” 
You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thank you, Phil.” 
He grins down at you, dimples indenting in his cheeks. “Of course, darlin’.” 
You stare at the door for a minute after he closes it, holding your breath. You half expect him to come back in, change his mind and decide he’d rather do it here. He could barge in, force you down on the bed and you wouldn’t be able to do anything. You’re not supposed to do anything. 
Good omegas do as they’re told. Good omegas don’t fight back. 
You wish the door had a lock on it. 
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You jolt awake as you’re jostled in your seat. You let out a quiet sound, not quite sure where you even are, much less what’s going on. 
“Just a bit of turbulence.” A voice says, pushing your head to rest against a shoulder again. 
Right. You’re on a plane heading towards Dallas. You didn’t realize you fell asleep, your head resting on Phil’s shoulder. He smells like scent blockers, all three of you do. The plane is a cocktail of scents, the chemical burn of scent blocker mixed with the ugly mesh of too many scents in one confined space. Not everyone has the decency to use scent blockers while traveling. You’ve always hated planes for that reason. 
You stretch your legs out as much as you can, your knee bumping the tray lightly. It had been lowered, you assume, at some point while you were asleep. Your book is sitting on it, the book you had been reading before you fell asleep. It’s the only one you own, a worn out copy you stole from FIOT’s library during your first week and never returned. The cover is faded and nearly falling off, the pages yellowed and stiff from how many times it’s been read over the last two years. 
You’d had a brief discussion about it before you descended into silence, Phil promising you all the books your heart desires once you get to his home. Your home. 
It’s your home now too. You’re no longer attached to your family, no longer attached to the institute. Phil is your world now, and you exist solely in his sphere. You’re dependent on him, and once the claim is made and the paperwork is filed, you will be his forever. 
There won’t be any going back. 
Phil will never change his mind. 
The plane jostles again and you grip the arm resting on your leg out of instinct. 
“Easy.” Phil shushes you, his lips brushing your forehead. His hand closes around yours, squeezing it gently. “Haven’t flown much, have you?” 
“Twice.” You say, your fully awake brain realizing you’re still leaning against his shoulder, but you’re not sure you should move. He obviously likes it if he let it happen. Will he get mad if you try to move? Would he reprimand you on the plane, even if you are quite spaced out in first class? 
He hums, resting his cheek on your head. “We’ll go on lots of flights together. I’ll take you all over the world.” 
Would he take you to see your family again? 
They were friends once. He has to at least know where they are and what they’re doing. Would he do that for you? Or is he going to keep you isolated as expected to prevent those bonds from forming again. Your only bonds should be with him and his pack. Not your old pack that you left behind for a reason. 
You don’t know anything about his pack. 
You know he has a beta, Bryan, his most trusted beta, from the looks of it. How many others are there? How many other alphas and betas? Is he head alpha, or is there someone else? You can’t imagine Phil not being in charge. He always seemed to take command of a room, even with other alphas. Even with your dad. 
Are there other omegas in his pack? Or will you be alone, surrounded by alphas and betas? 
Can you even ask him? Or is he saving that for later, when you’re at his home. Would he get annoyed if you asked? Would it ruin his plan that he obviously has laid out? 
Your name being said brings you back to reality, your head tilting to look up at Phil. He’s staring down at you, his eyebrows raised. 
“Welcome back.” He says, and for a second you wonder if you fell asleep again. “Lost in your head there, huh?” 
You swallow thickly. “Yeah. My instructors said I have a lot of strengths, but my one fault is I think too much. Sometimes they’d say I’m sucking all the thoughts out of the room. Though, I think that was less of an insult towards me.” 
Phil chuckles. “Got a lot of things going on in that head of yours. Just don’t let it get you too distracted. Hate for something to happen to you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead again as the plane begins its descent. 
His words almost feel like a threat again, like a silent warning that something will happen if you don’t stop thinking so much. Will he try to fix that habit for you? Will he try to break you of that? Good omegas don’t have to think, they know and they act. An omega with too many thoughts is too independent. Alphas don’t like independent omegas. They want someone to listen and do as they're told, not question their orders. 
You can’t help but sense the silent threat that radiates from him, the undertone of danger that has warning bells going off in your head. He’s been nice and polite and caring so far. 
How long will that last once you’re in the privacy of his home? 
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It’s a nice neighborhood. Nicer than you’ve ever lived in, at least. The houses are big, the cars parked outside are nice, the lawns are pristine. It’s all very picturesque, it all feels very...manufactured. 
Phil drives to the end of the cul de sac, pulling into the driveway of one of the two houses facing the rest of the street. There’s an American flag hung up on the porch rustling with the soft breeze. It’s warm outside, something you haven’t missed. It’s been years since you’ve lived in Texas, ten almost. You had been eight years old when your father received his next change of station orders and your family packed up and moved again. 
That had just been shortly after Phil disappeared from your family’s lives. 
Phil pulls into the garage, parking the SUV next to a rather expensive looking classic sports car. You stare at it for a moment, questioning just what Phil does and how much he makes from doing it. You’re not sure you want to know. 
You fumble with the seatbelt as Bryan opens the door for you, blinking yourself out of your haze. He offers a hand and you let him help you out of the car to not seem rude. Phil gives you a small smile as you approach him. 
He cups your chin, staring down at your face. “Jet lagged?” He asks, his thumb stroking your jaw before letting you go. 
Jet lagged, confused, uncomfortable, unsure. All of the above. 
“Yes.” You nod. 
“Come on. I’ll give you a tour and then you can nap.” He says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. 
He opens the door into the house, unlocked, you note. The inside is nice. Clean, pristine, staged looking. You’re not sure if anyone even lives in the house. You can’t help but wonder if Phil bought this house just for this moment. 
“Cleaners come twice a week.” He says as he leads you around the first floor. “This whole space is yours, except for this room.” He says pointing out a door at the end of one hallway. “This is my office. Door’s always locked at all times. No one is allowed in besides me. You see anyone trying to get in, you tell me right away. Understood?” 
You nod. The idea of what could be behind that door has a shiver running down your spine.
“Good girl.” He says, booping your nose. “Now, for the best part.” 
He leads you upstairs, giving you a quick tour of guest bedrooms that don’t look like they’ve been touched, bathrooms far too clean to have ever been used. Why he needs so much space is beyond you. 
No, you know why. 
He leads you down to the end of a hallway, a door looming in front of you. You know what’s behind it. It’s what’s been clawing at you since the plane landed, since the drive from the airport, since you stepped foot in Phil’s home. Your home. 
It’s nice inside. Clean, well organized. It looks like a stage in a movie. The bed is large, larger than necessary you think. The comforter is a deep navy with nothing but the necessary amount of pillows on it. There’s a chair in the corner that doesn’t look like it’s ever been sat in. A TV hangs on the wall across from the bed and a dresser sits between two doors on the far wall. The closet and bathroom you assume. It’s spacious, but not comforting. 
That’s your job. 
“Don’t worry, you can add your womanly touch to it later.” Phil says, stepping up behind you. You can’t hide the way your body tenses as his hands slide up your arms. His breath fans over your ear as he leans down, pressing his face against your neck. “We’re going to make good use of this room.” His lips brush your throat, tongue darting out to lick your scent gland. He hums appreciatively. “Sweeter than I remember, those strawberries.” His arms wrap around you, pinning your back against his chest. “We were made for each other.” 
Your stomach clenches as his scent intensifies, blending with yours. You try not to panic as his lips drag up the side of your neck. There’s no stopping him. There’s no convincing him to wait. 
He presses his nose into your hair, taking a deep breath in. “Get some rest.” He finally releases you. “I’ve got some things to take care of, and I don’t doubt the girls will want to take you shopping.” 
“Girls?” You frown, turning to face him. 
“The other pack omegas. They’re excited to finally meet you.” 
Oh. You haven’t even thought about the pack or how big it is or its dynamics. Everything has happened so quickly, there’s been no time for discussions like that. You suppose you should have that conversation soon. Though, it’s been a long day already and he’s not wrong. You do need some rest. 
‘A good night’s sleep is essential for omegas to do their jobs effectively. No alpha wants a whiny omega.’ 
He brushes his hand over your hair, giving you a soft smile. “Take a nap. You look like you need one.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before he leaves, closing the door behind him. You stare at it for a long moment, half expecting him to change his mind, but you can hear him going down the stairs. You can hear everything in the silence of the house. It’s almost too quiet after the constant noise of the institute. There’s always someone talking, moving around, making noise. Even at night it was never truly quiet. 
Now the silence is almost loud in your ears. 
It won’t be silent forever. 
You stare at the bed, half tempted to just curl up on the floor. He would be mad if you slept in one of the guest rooms. He’d know immediately. You’ll have to brave the bed. Better to do it now than when you have no choice. 
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“Look at you!” Hands squeeze your arms. There’s so many scents floating around you, yet it’s comforting. You’re among your own again. “Oh, you’re just a baby aren’t you?” 
Natalie, her name is. You had been introduced in a flurry of excitement, and you had lost track of most of their names. Doesn’t matter, you’ll learn them all eventually. 
Her alpha is Osmond, ‘Oz’ as he’d told you to call him, Phil’s second alpha. Not necessarily a large man, but highly intimidating nonetheless. You’d guess Natalie to be in her 30s, though you’ve never been good at guessing ages. 
“How old are you, sweetie?” She asks, squeezing your arms again. She’s trying to comfort you in your obvious state of overwhelm. 
“Eighteen.” You answer, staring up at her. 
Something flashes across her face, but it disappears as quickly as it arrived. “You are a baby.” She wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, we’ve got a lot to cover and we’ve got some errands to run.” 
There’s a lot of omegas. Phil had finally broken down the pack and its dynamics over a late lunch, even introducing you to a few members on your way to Oz’s house. You had your suspicions that Phil was pack alpha, and you were right. His presence, the kind of power he radiates. You’re going to be the head omega once Phil has claimed you. Natalie has been serving that position, as second alpha’s omega. 
You’re not sure you want to take it from her. 
They’re all older than you, if by only a couple of years. You do feel like a baby in their midst, so unprepared and unsure. It’s natural to feel that way, you were taught. There’s a shift, a change in dynamics, an adjustment period in the pack when a new omega is added. 
Why couldn’t Phil have just been the family alpha type?
“Phil says you’ve known him for a while.” Anna, Marcus’ omega, says. 
You nod. “He was friends with my dad when he was stationed in Fort Worth.” 
“That was a while ago.” Jenny says. 
“About ten years.” You say. 
Silence falls in the room for a moment. It’s a tense silence, speaking volumes of their understanding and the realization of the situation. They won’t say anything. They can’t say anything. 
“Well,” Natalie says, breaking the silence. “We’re glad you’re here. If you need anything at all, you’ve got us now.” She wraps her arms around you again. She reminds you a bit of your mother, perhaps if your mother hadn’t been constrained by the controlling nature of your father. “All omegas truly have is each other, right?” 
The others agree with her, and you can’t deny it. What do omegas really have? Nothing their alphas don’t want them to have. Nothing parents, institutes, anyone in control don’t want them to have. 
All we really have is each other. 
“I mean it.” Natalie says. “Anything at all.” 
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They are excited to take you shopping, despite the heaviness of the conversation that had transpired. They spoil you, throwing bags and bags in the back of the SUV, brushing off any concerns about money. Anything you want or need, you get several of them. It’s overwhelming after never getting anything but the bare necessities and what the institute wants you to have. 
Marcus, one of the higher ranking alphas in the pack, follows everyone around like a security detail. You had been concerned upon hearing only one alpha was accompanying you...until you saw Marcus for the first time. He’s big. Very big. Tall and bulky, he’s the perfect specimen of an alpha. Many young omegas’ dream alpha. Marcus is intimidating, letting off a dangerous air which causes most that pass your group to not even give you a second glance. 
He escorts your small group around, offering up no question or complaint. You almost wish he was going to be your alpha, but then again, you know almost nothing about him. You don’t even really know that much about Phil. Most of the things you know are things you overheard from conversations he had with your father. But how trustworthy are those things, really? You hadn’t understood much until now. Now it all makes sense. 
A lot of things make sense now. 
Natalie stands with you on the sidewalk as Marcus and Bryan carry load after load of bags into Phil’s house. Your house. You’re scared for what’s coming tonight. Phil won’t wait. He won’t put things off, he won’t hold off until your first heat. He’ll want to make things official now, stake his claim as soon as possible. He’s waited ten years for this. 
Natalie smiles softly down at you, a knowing look in her eyes. “Nervous?” She asks, picking up on your uneasy energy. 
You nod, trying to stop the tears from pooling in your eyes. Good omegas serve their alphas, no matter what. 
“I know what that’s like. I was scared shitless too.” She laughs quietly. “I think Oz was just as nervous too. Just relax and breathe. Phil will take care of you. That I can be confident about.” Her smile turns almost bittersweet. She knows. She understands. “You’ll be alright. I’ll come by tomorrow morning, okay?” 
You nod, trying to suppress your nervousness. Natalie will understand, though you’re not so sure Phil will. 
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You look terrified as you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You bathed an hour ago and yet you still can’t quite bring yourself to leave the bathroom. You smooth your hands over the silk hugging your skin for the thousandth time. You’re shocked you haven’t worn through the thin fabric yet with your sweaty palms. 
Your eyes dart down to the sink, your stomach churning wildly as the bedroom door closes. Phil is back. You’ll have to leave the bathroom soon. You can’t spend the whole night behind the locked door. 
You don’t doubt he’d break it down eventually. 
Then he’ll be angry. 
You let out a long breath, curling your hands into fists to stop them from shaking. You have to do this. This is your job, your duty as an omega. Serve your alpha and make him happy. Be a good omega and do what he says. Obedience is an omega’s purpose. This is always what was going to happen, be it with Phil or with a stranger. Perhaps there is a small comfort in the fact you know Phil. You’re familiar with him. Why would he wait ten years for you just to hurt you? 
The little food you managed to eat churns uncomfortably in your stomach. Phil had treated you to dinner before he’d left again, giving you time to clean up and prepare yourself for tonight. For right now. 
You spritz more scent-enhancing perfume on your skin before you let out a long breath. You try to fix your face, not look quite so terrified, but you’re not sure you can hold it as you unlock the door, turning the knob. 
The light in the closet is on, the door half open. Phil must be in there, likely having to maneuver around bags. You’d unpacked some things and put them away, but you’d nearly had a breakdown when you reached the lingerie store bags. You’re wearing some of it now, the silk robe and little white number your fellow omegas had gotten you. Specifically for tonight, you think. You won’t be wearing it again. 
The closet door opens fully, Phil standing there in nothing but his jeans. His eyes trail your body as you stand there awkwardly in the middle of the room. His teeth sink into his lip, his scent thickening. You’re trying to look anywhere but at him but you can’t help the way your eyes are drawn to his form. He’s just as tall and muscular as you remember, more lean than bulky like your father had been. His skin is pale, though you can’t imagine him spending much time lounging in the backyard by the pool. Under the awning at the grill with a beer in hand as he used to do, that you can picture. 
“Look at you.” He says, turning off the light before stepping fully out of the closet. “All wrapped up like a present just for me.” 
You feel like vomiting as he approaches you slowly. You feel like a rabbit trapped in the sights of a hungry wolf, too afraid to run, too afraid to fight back. You’re going to be devoured and there’s no stopping it. 
You jump as his hand cups your face, your eyes darting up to his. There’s a soft look in them, an attempt at soothing your fear. There’s nothing he can do to make this easier, though, other than just get it over with. 
It’ll get easier. That’s what Anna told you. Eventually your omega will be happy, content with a good alpha and a pack. It’s just an adjustment. That’s why it’s recommended to wait when adding a new omega. Get past the adjustment period before reaching this stage. 
How do you stop an alpha that’s been waiting ten years? 
Most alphas don’t wait anyway. 
“Don’t be scared, darlin’.” He says, lips tilting up in a smile. “I’ll take good care of you.” 
His fingers tug at the ties of the robe around your waist, your heart thudding in your chest. You’re shocked he can’t hear it. It’s pulsing in your ears, nearly blocking out all sound as he pulls the tie free, revealing your lacy lingerie underneath. He lets out a low whistle as he pushes the robe off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. 
“Look. At. You.” He says, enunciating each word. His hands slide down your sides, brushing lace and smooth skin. “Can’t wait much longer.” He nearly groans, his gaze darkening. He steps up closer to you, your gaze locked on his. You can’t look down, you can’t stare at the tent in his jeans, you can’t stare at the bulge that’s brushing against your pelvis with every breath. “You ever done this before?” He asks. 
You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “N-No.” 
“No?” He raises a brow. “Not even a kiss?” 
You shake your head. 
“Pure little thing, all for me.” He nearly growls, pushing his body fully against yours. His hand cups the side of your neck, something tingling in the back of your brain as his fingers brush the sensitive skin on the back of your neck. 
You’re distracted from that tingle though as he kisses you, his lips rough against yours. You’re not sure what to do, but he doesn’t seem to care. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tight against him. Your stomach is churning, not entirely from nerves anymore as his scent completely takes over, clouding your mind. Despite your nerves and hesitation, your omega purrs appreciatively. He smells good, like alpha. It’s exactly what your omega wants, what she’s been craving. 
“Fuck,” He groans against your lips, hands tugging at the lace covering your lower back. “So fucking sweet.” He bites at your lower lip, harder than you're expecting. You let out a quiet nose but that only seems to encourage him. 
He pulls away from you, turning you towards the bed. Your palms fall against the mattress to catch yourself. The comforter has been pulled down, your hands falling against the sheets. White sheets. 
Phil’s hands drag up your back until it reaches the top of the lace. He rips it easily, tearing it down the back before he pushes it off your shoulders. His hands run over your skin as he pushes the lace from your body, his back meeting your chest. His skin is warm against yours, his bulge pushing up against your ass at this angle. 
“Sweet little omega.” He growls, pressing his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. “All for me. All mine, aren’t you?” 
“Yes, alpha.” You say, fingers curling into the sheet beneath your hands. 
He hums appreciatively, nipping at the skin over your scent gland. You can’t help but begin to feel a stirring in your stomach. It feels good, despite everything. Your omega is growing complacent, the promise of what’s coming not nearly quite so frightening. 
It gets easier. 
Phil’s hands rest on your stomach, pushing your body tight against his. “Can’t wait for your next heat.” He groans, pushing his hips against your ass. “Gonna pump you full until it takes, give you a pup like you’ll be begging for. Keep you pumped full, just like your mama, huh. You’ll give me a big pack, won’t you?” 
You’re glad he can’t see your face as he holds you there, your eyes glued to the white sheet in front of you. You desperately fight back the tears blurring your vision. 
“Yes, alpha.” 
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oneforthemunny · 2 days
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if i knew then |ex-husband!eddie munson x ex-wife!reader|
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prompt: a collection of flashbacks from before.
contains: angst. like idk how else to say it- ow ow ow angst. all flashbacks. teen pregnancy, unexpected pregnancy. shitty judgy people. insecurities. dream crushing. fighting. language. really just bittersweet angst. chaos. they're so not good and immature in these. also might be a part one to a two part series.
October 17th, 1985
“We’re gonna get caught, Eddie.” Your heart trilled, heavy and hard at a thundering pace, his hand holding yours so sweetly, guiding you through the small patch of forestry that led to the football stadium- you hoped he couldn’t feel how your palms were beginning to sweat. 
“Who’s gonna catch us?” Eddie turned, chin hooking over his shoulder to give you a teasing grin. He pushed back a limb, unbothered that the branches were undoubtedly scratching at his leather jacket. “No one’s gonna be out here unless they’re doin’ the same shit we are, sweetheart. Promise ya.” 
Your tummy flipped with an adrenaline rush of heat, squeezing his hand tighter, moving closer to him as the dirt path turned to broken concrete, the Hawkin’s High School football stadium vacant of light, but bleachers standing high in the moonlight. 
Eddie moved towards the back side of the chain link fence, to the corner, heavy boot sliding under the exposed chain metal, lifting it so it peeled upwards. “After you,” Eddie bowed playfully, nodding towards the small gap. 
Your lips twisted, heat pricking at your cheeks. “I should’ve worn pants, I guess.” You muttered, hands smoothing over the skirt you’d chosen instead, despite the chilly temperatures. You knew Eddie liked you in a skirt, eyes always lingering and flickering towards your exposed legs. Even before you were ‘official’, you’d always catch him looking during fourth period. 
“‘S alright,” Eddie shrugged, lips puckering and pulling into a smirk he tried to hide. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.” 
“Eddie,” You hissed, a trilling squeal of excitement in your tone, looking over your shoulder as you shimmied through the small space, careful not to pick your sweater. 
Eddie grinned, though you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted, catching a peek as you crawled in. He followed you closely, expertly sliding in before the chain fencing snapped back into place. You wondered how many times he’d snuck in here before. Maybe he was the one who made the hole in the fence to begin with. If he’d brought any other girls with him before. 
Eddie’s hand found your back, sliding over to your hip, pulling you close into him. “See? No one’s here.” Eddie nodded, motioning towards the empty rows of bleachers, the vacant football field. “You can relax now, baby, told you no one would be here.” 
“Yeah?” You hummed, leaning into his chest, warm cotton brushing your skin. “Guess I should trust you. Seems like you’ve done this a few times before.” 
Eddie’s chest rumbled with a laugh, squeezing the fat of your hip. “Only a few.” 
“Yeah? With who?” You scoffed lightly, brows pinched when you looked up at him. 
Eddie’s brows raised in amusement, lips rolling and biting back a grin. “Really hot chick, ya know? Her name was Gareth.” Eddie snorted in laughter. “I’ve only been here one time, last year with Gareth. We spray painted Kimmy Frank’s number on the field, wrote ‘call for a good time’ under it after she stood Jeff up at homecoming.”
“That was you?” You gawked. 
“Yeah,” Eddie smirked proudly. “She deserved it. Asked him out and got him all excited, then laughed at him when he showed up. Said it was a dare and called him names. Really fucked him up, ya know? So we thought we’d embarrass her.” 
“It definitely worked.” You muttered, passing the twenty yard line that stood out from the others with a fresh coat of paint, from Eddie and Gareth’s handiwork. “Didn’t the Franks have to change numbers because so many people were calling?” 
“Yeah,” Eddie snorted with a laugh. “I might’ve put it in the stall at The Hideout, too.” 
Your heart skipped, stomach dropping with the same prickling rush of fear and excitement it always did when you were with Eddie. The head reeling, mind numbing kind of rush that had you brainlessly going into any situation with him. 
“Here,” Eddie pulled you from your own thoughts, stopping at the center of the field. “This feels like a good spot.” 
“Eddie-” You looked around, towards the fence then the other side. You were so exposed, right in the middle of the field, for anyone to see. 
“-Baby, I told you, no one’s gonna come. Believe me.” Eddie hummed, shimmying off his jacket. “It’s not like this is Fort Knox or somethin’. It’s a public high school. No one’s giving a shit who’s here.” 
You bit at your lip, rolling it around as you tugged at your fingers, a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach. It had been growing and growing since you first decided to sneak out, after your parents had gone to bed, slipping through the window and running down the quiet street towards Eddie’s can parked on the corner. 
“C’mon,” Eddie muttered, cold hands catching your jaw, the metal of his rings meeting your own wind bitten cheeks, pulling you into him. “I’m not gonna let you get in trouble.” 
“I feel like you are the trouble.” You muttered, your body betraying your brain, letting yourself slip into his hold, hands pulling at his shirt. 
Eddie grinned, lips barely brushing before they captured yours, pulling you into him. Hands pulling at your clothes, your hips, sinking onto the cold grass. Eddie laid you back on his leather jacket, a gentleman, you mused. Shoving his pants and boxers around his thighs, he flipped your skirt up, lips still pulling at yours as he rutted into you. Your head spun, dizzy with excitement and pleasure, fists balling at the fabric of his shirt, hoping the sun would stay gone forever so the night would never end. 
July 28th, 1986
“Holy shit,” Eddie muttered, cradling the can of Similac. “Is there not a knock off version of this?” 
“No,” You hissed, rocking Jude close to your chest. 
You could feel the judging eyes of the couple beside you. Their baby in a stroller, cart full of diapers and groceries, the woman’s left hand adorning a rather large diamond, the man clean cut in a suit and tie. The polar opposite of you and Eddie, two scraggly looking teens with a two month old baby, and an empty cart. 
“Are you sure you don’t want to just get some of Marsha’s milk?” Eddie asked, turning to look at you. “She said she’s overproducing anyways, and she’d give you some bottles since you’re not-” 
“-Eddie,” Your body burned with embarrassed heat, tensing as the others in the aisle turned, lips pursed in disapproval. “Just get the formula.” 
“Baby, this is two-fifty a can. Marsha said she’d give it for free. I don’t see why you wouldn’t just take that.” Eddie said, trying to rationalize with you. 
The older woman beside you scoffed, her nose sticking in the air in disapproval as she turned to the young girl beside her. “And that’s why you don’t have a baby before you're married. You don’t want to end up like these two.” Her eyes narrowed towards you and Eddie. “It’s unfair to the baby.” 
Your heart stopped, fell into your stomach, your breath leaving with it. You thought you’d be used to this- the dirty, judgy looks when you went to prom nearly nine months pregnant, or when you barely made it to graduation after you had Jude three days prior. Still, it felt like a suckerpunch to your sternum every time. You’d blame the consuming shame as the reason you barely left the house now. 
“Lady, mind your own fuckin’ business, alright?” Eddie snapped, a growl in his voice that left her jumping, hurriedly pushing the cart down the aisle. 
You didn’t dare look to the couple beside you, but you could feel their judgment burning through you. Jude had begun to fuss the moment you entered the store, picking up on your apprehension that left him unsettled, until he finally began to cry. 
“Shit,” Eddie muttered, looking down at the baby, his face beginning to scrunch with the warning of a wail. “Here, take him to the car and I’ll check out.” 
“No, I can check out.” You shook your head, overwhelmed with the interaction from before and now this. “We still need diapers.” 
“I can get diapers-” 
“-No.” You snapped, teeth baring in irritation. “You always get the wrong size. I can get them.” Your voice was harsh, stilling Eddie and you both with shock in the aisle. 
Jude’s whimpering cries were beginning to grow louder over the beating of your heart thundering in your ears. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, looking down at Jude, then back at Eddie. “I just… I need a second.” 
Eddie nodded slowly, pulling out his wallet and passing it to you. “I got him.” Eddie muttered, slowly taking Jude from your arms. “I’ll be in the van. Take your time, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your head before he left you. 
You felt nearly robotic, pushing down the aisles towards the diapers. The dirty looks were gone, they left with Eddie and Jude, but a suffocating feeling of guilt took its place. The woman’s words ringing in your ears, unfair to the baby. Maybe it was, your mind screamed, as you stood in line at the check out. Maybe it was unfair that you couldn’t afford the luxury swaddlers, or that you couldn’t even produce enough milk to feed Jude. Maybe your parents were right, you had made a mistake. 
“Do you have any coupons?” The teenage cashier dead panned, a bored look in her eyes as she pulled you from your thoughts. 
“Oh, yeah- yes, I do.” You muttered, flipping through Eddie’s wallet for the coupons you’d clipped out of the newspaper this week, handing them over with a shame you were unsure of. 
The cashier punched in the number, the register dinging as the total rolled over at the top. “Twelve- seventy-two.” She muttered. 
You pulled the ten dollar bill out, heart sinking as you flipped through the contents, the folds and flaps of Eddie’s leather wallet. Where was the five you put in here last night? You know you gave it to him- 
“Ma’am,” The cashier huffed. “It’s twelve-seventy-two.” 
“I-I know.” Your chest tightened, lungs constricting. “I-I know I had more. I-I’m sorry, I just- I know I put it in here-” 
“-Ma’am, if you don’t have enough-” 
“-No, I have enough.” You snapped, startling the cashier. “I just- I know I put it in here, just-  Are you sure you added the coupons?”
“Yes,” The cashier snapped. You could feel your heart thundering in your chest, ears ringing, hands trembling. “Lady, I’ve got a line. If you don’t have the money, I’m going to have to ask you to leave and you can come back when you have enough.” 
“I can’t-” You pressed your eyes shut, your voice shaking. “H-How much without the formula?” 
“Just the diapers?” The cashier huffed. “Eight dollars and seven cents.” 
“Fine. I-I’ll just get those.” You muttered, eyes cutting to the line behind you. 
“Just the diapers?” The cashier asked, brow lifting with annoyance. 
“Yes.” You muttered, hands shaking when you reached for the ten dollar bill, eyes pricking with tears.  
“That will be eight dollars and-” 
“-Add the formula back on.” A voice behind you said softly. 
You jumped, turning towards the woman behind you. “I’ll pay for them.” She said softly, giving you a gentle nod. 
“No, no, I-I couldn’t ask you-” 
“-You didn’t.” The woman shook her head, sliding the twenty dollar bill over to the cashier. “Everyone needs a little help every now and then, and I’m happy to help.” 
Your lip trembled, jaw clenching to keep in your tears. “Thank you.” Your voice was broken, a barely there whisper that burned when it made its way out of your chest. 
“Don’t mention it.” The woman waved with a smile. “How old is your baby?” 
“T-Two months.” You croaked, sniffling back a wet sob. 
“A fun age.” She grinned. “Two months is great, but two years- ooh.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “That’s when they become little gremlins.” 
The cashier handed back the change, passing you the bagged formula and diapers. “Please, let me at least give you some money, an-and I can pay you back the rest by the end of the week, I swear.” You rambled, reaching for a pen off the counter, flipping your receipt over. “If you give me your name, an-and phone number, I’ll-” 
“-That’s not necessary, dear, I promise.” The woman shook her head at you lightly. “But if you don’t mind me asking, are you working?” 
Your chin ducked, spinning the pen around in your hands. “I-I waitress during the week at Benny’s. It’s been hard finding a job, because…” You looked down at the groceries, voice tightening in your throat. 
The woman nodded, reaching for the pen in your hands. “Well, if you’re interested in something else, I work at Vance Insurance and we’re looking for a receptionist.” She scribbled an address on the back of your receipt with her name- Sheila. “We just need someone young who knows how to work the phones, and can help us transfer calls, schedule appointments. Is that something you can do?” 
“I- Yes, I can do that.” You nodded furiously. 
“Wonderful.” Sheila grinned, passing the pen back to the cashier. “Stop in anytime this week and they’ll interview you. It’s a good starting place, good benefits- especially for a baby.” 
“Thank you,” Your eyes watered, brimming with tears that fell slowly down your cheeks. “I just- I can’t thank you enough, really, this is too kind-” 
“-Everyone needs help sometimes.” Sheila repeated gently. “I was you not too long ago, just needing some help. Like I said, I’m happy to help.” 
You nodded, clutching the receipt in your hands as you walked towards the sliding doors of the entrance. You held onto the receipt, buried it deep in your pocket until Monday morning. 
February 2nd, 1989
“Motherfucker,” Eddie hissed, ringed hand slapping down on the sticky table top. “A dollar?” 
“C’mon, ‘least it’s somethin’, right?” Darrel snickered from beside Eddie, bussing the booth next to him, emptied beer glasses splashing in the bin. “Could be nothin’ like that table before.” 
“Bunch of assholes,” Eddie grunted, shoving the dollar in his pocket. “Dude has a BMW and can’t tip more than a dollar?” 
“Those are the worst kinds, man.” Darrel shook his head. “Ones with the most are the stingiest.” 
“You’re tellin’ me.” Eddie scoffed, shoving the emptied bourbon glass in the bin. “That’s why I quit workin’ at Elroy’s.” 
“You quit at Elroy’s?” Darrel gaped. “When? I thought you just started that job, man, what happened?” 
“Psh, he’s a dick.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Had me doin’ all the dirty work, making nothing, while he’s making six figures and just sits there bitching at all of us nobodies.” Eddie shook his head. “I got sick of it. I’m not working for some asshole and making no money. Besides, it was cuttin’ into my time playing here.” 
Darrel nodded slowly, head shaking with a shrug. “Yeah, that’s… That’s tough, Ed.” He hummed. “What about the Mrs? She pissed at you for quitting another job.” 
“No,” Eddie snapped, far too quickly and too defensively for it to be true. Pissed was an understatement. You’d had a fight so big, so loud, the neighbors two trailers down had to come check on you. 
“This is the third job this year, Eddie!” You had roared, throwing your arms out. “How the fuck are we going to afford a house when you keep doing this shit?” 
“Will you relax? We’ll be fine, we’ve always been fine. I’ll find another-” 
“-We’ve always been fine because I have a job.” 
“Baby, when I make it big, you won’t have to work. I’ll take care of us- all of us, ok? I’m working on it. I’ve gotten a bunch of gigs in Indianapolis-” 
“-That don’t pay.” You sneered. “That you spend more money on gas to get to than you actually make-” 
“-You gotta spend a little money to make money, baby. That’s business!” Eddie huffed, throwing his hands up. It was the same fight, it always was. 
“Spend what money? My money?” You scoffed. “Taking money away from Jude so you can, what? Play pretend rockstar? Grow up, Eddie!” 
That had been three nights ago. You hadn’t talked to Eddie since then. He’d slept on the couch every night since the fight. 
“Look, I-I got another job lined up.” Eddie bristled, shaking his head, trying to drown out your cruel words still ringing in his head. “I’m playing for Oktoberfest at this bar in Indianapolis. There’s gonna be a shit ton of people there, and who knows? Could be a producer or someone there to sign us. The guy over there said they’re always coming in from Chicago, seeing what talent is around.” 
“Oh, it’s a gig?” Darrel looked at him, not nearly as excited as Eddie thought he would be. “Not a job.” 
“I mean, yeah, it’s both-” 
“-You’re gettin’ paid?” Darrel lifted a brow. 
“Yeah, it’s not- it’s not much. Like fifty bucks, but that’s not with tips, and they cover my tab for the night.” Eddie stuttered defensively. It sounded like a much better deal when the owner pitched it to him. 
Darrel nodded slowly, fingers tapping on the bin. “Well, good luck then.” He muttered, wiping down the table. “But, uh, if there’s not a producer or whatever, you know my cousin is still looking for help with his HVAC business. If you’re ever looking for anything.” 
Eddie’s chest burned with furious heat, scoffing as he pulled away, moving to the next table. Who the fuck does he think he is? Eddie fumed, jaw set tight, teeth grinding with fury. 
The rest of the night wasn’t better, despite the crowd. Eddie pocketed a solid thirty-seven dollars, and some change an asshole at the corner booth left. He cut it down thirty-six dollars before he made it home, stopping by the liquor store for a pack of Camels. 
Eddie was surprised the living room light was still on when he came in, quietly shutting the door in case you and Jude were asleep on the couch again. 
“Baby,” Eddie whispered, creeping into the room. He found you sitting, awake, on the couch, arms crossed over your chest, eyes red rimmed and glassy. 
“Oh, I thought you were asleep.” Eddie muttered, voice still hushed as he shook off his jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch. 
Your lips pursed, arms still tight across your chest. “Jude is with Wayne tonight.” You said, though your voice didn’t carry the usual purr it did when you’d told him that before. Tonight, it was filled with icy malice. 
“Oh, yeah?” Eddie grinned, leaning over the couch towards you, arms wrapping around your frame, face pressing into your neck. “Good. I’ve had the worst fuckin’ day, and I’ve missed you. Missed sleepin’ in the bed with you, baby.” His lips tugged at your ear lobe, teeth grazing your skin. 
“Stop, we’re not…” You huffed, pushing him off you gently, standing from the couch. “We need to talk, Eddie.” 
Eddie’s heart dropped, sinking deep in the pit of his stomach. “Talk? About what?” His shoulders slumped, gripping the back of the couch with an exhale of exhaustion. “Baby, you know I didn’t mean it when I said that. I was just pissed, and… C’mon, you know I’d never really mean tha-” 
“-I’m pregnant.” Your words echoed through the small living room of the trailer, a silence settling around the two of you after that. 
Eddie’s mouth opened then closed, words strangled in his throat. “Pregnant?” Suddenly he was eighteen again, heart stilled in his chest, ears ringing with what he was sure was delusion. 
“What- I mean, how- No, I-I know how, I just…” Eddie swallowed around the thick lump in his throat, head spinning with the news. “That’s-That’s great.” 
Your choked sob startled him, left him flinching as your hand moved to your mouth, muffling your cries. “Hey, hey, what’s- Baby, don’t cry.” Eddie soothed, his voice calmer now than it was four years ago. 
Your wet cheeks pressed into his shirt, the overwhelming scent of stale cigarettes making you retch and gag. He should have known you were pregnant a week ago, when he’d slipped in the bed beside you after a night shift at The Hideout and you had gagged, shoved him out of the bed and told him to shower. “I can smell smoke in your hair, Ed. It’s giving me a headache.” 
He let you go, back away from him with a cry that turned into a gag that faded into a cough then back to a sob. “What’s wrong?” Eddie hesitated, his hands reaching out to you then back to his sides, unsure of what to do. “Why-Why are you crying? Are you not- I mean, hey, at least we’re married this time and… and adults.” 
He thought the little joke he made might calm you down, soothe you a little, not send you into another wave of sobs. Face crumbling, shoulders shaking with tears. “What- Why are you crying?” Eddie’s brows furrowed, reaching out for you. “Are you- Are you not happy?” 
“No,” You spat, sniffing back a wet cry. “I mean, yes but…” Your teary eyes met his, lip shaking with a cry you tried to swallow. “I-I don’t think it’s the ri-right time.” 
Eddie frowned. “Well, it’s a little late for that, sweetheart.” His hand rubbed over your arm soothingly. “What’s the matter, hm? What’s got you upset? This should be a good thing.” 
“Should be,” You spat with a wet sob. “Eddie, we barely make it as it is, and…and we’re never going to be able to afford two kids when you won’t stay at a job.” Your breath hitched, the harsh truth you’d kept in for months finally tumbling out, laying on him thickly in the room. 
Eddie’s lips pursed, tightened in a straight line. “I have a job.” 
“The Hideout is not a job.” You countered. “Not one that can support two kids, Eddie, be serious.” 
“I am being serious.” Eddie crossed his arms defensively. “And it’s not my main job, anyways, you know that.” You fought back an eye roll, the tears flooding your vision instead. 
“Baby, I know it doesn’t pay much right now, but all I need is one chance, ok? One time, just someone out there hearing me play, and-and then everything will change. We’ll be set for life. More than set.” Eddie gushed, reaching out to hold you. 
His eyes were wide, wild with the same excitement they were years ago, when he’d first told you his dream of being a rockstar. But that was before- before Jude, before you’d gotten married, before reality hit you in the face and knocked you on your feet. Before you’d become bitter with the harsh realization that dreams were for the lucky few, and that you weren’t. 
“I can’t…” You pressed a hand to your mouth, taking a deep breath you hoped would calm your nerves, settle your stomach. “Eddie, I- we don’t have time for one day. We have a family right now.” Your tear stained eyes met his. 
“I can’t afford to live off a dream that may happen.” Your lips pressed together, swallowing back a cry. 
Eddie’s face fell, and you could practically see his heart shattering. “What-What are you saying?” 
“That you need to grow up.” Your tone clipped, bitter and cold in the echo of the room. “You have a kid- two, now, an-and it’s not fair to them that they suffer because you want to chase down a dream that might happen.” 
Eddie’s heart sunk, burning with a soul crushing ache he hadn’t felt in years. “What? You think I can’t make it? That-That I’m not good enough?” 
Your eyes closed, taking in a deep, calming breath to steady yourself. “I never said that.” You looked at him. “Maybe if… if things would have been different, you could go out every night an-and play wherever and do whatever, but they’re not. We have Jude and another on the way, and…” 
There was a pause, neither one of you sure how to fill it, what to say. You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, willing your tears down. “You have to choose, Eddie.” Your voice shook gently, uncertainty filling each syllable. “If you want to go and make it big, fine, but I am not going to keep bankrolling your trips. Either get a job and grow up and be a father, or go be a rockstar.” 
“That’s so fucked.” Eddie scoffed. “You know that? That is so fucked, and-and manipulative and- You know I love you and Jude, and I’d do anything-” 
“-Then go get a job.” You snapped. “Go get a job and grow up, Eddie. Grow up and be an adult. Stop quitting every five seconds because something is mildly uncomfortable. Do you think I’m happy all the time at my job? No, but I stay because I have to, for Jude and for you.” 
Eddie swallowed back the burn of tears that built in the back of his throat, embarrassment maybe anger spilling hot out of his chest. “It’s time to grow up, Eddie.” Your eyes couldn’t meet his as you walked towards the door. “The choice is yours.” 
Eddie’s fists balled when you shut the bedroom door, stalking towards the front door, slamming it so hard behind him the trailer shook. He fished for his keys, yanking the van door open. You heard the gravel flying, the squeal of the tires following when he tore out of the drive. You squeezed your eyes together, letting out a pathetic sob in the still and silent room. 
Hours later, long after you’d cried yourself to sleep, you felt the bed dip. You smelled the smoke before you felt him, sliding next to you under the sheets, Eddie’s hands finding your waist. 
“I called Darrel.” Eddie said into the quiet darkness of the room, his voice hoarse with emotion. “His cousin said I could start Monday.” 
You turned, blinking with burning eyes, still raw from tears. “Really?” You croaked. 
Eddie swallowed before he nodded, and you pretended not to notice the way his lip shook. “You’re right. I…I need to grow up and be a man- be a better husband and father to Jude and the baby.” His voice was tight. 
Your words rang through Eddie’s head every day he got up, dragging himself out of bed and to work. What started as a motivating mantra, something he’d chant in his mind to get him through the tiresome shifts slowly became tainted, fading into a bitter, mocking reminder. Every time he’d pass by The Hideout, seeing the next gaggle of wannabe rockers on stage. Every time the radio would play a new band, someone his age who had gotten lucky, been at the right place at the right time and got discovered. He’d stew over it, fuming about how that could have been him. Resentment building that he tried to swallow down, the painful reminder of what could have been.
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kachowden · 18 hours
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Gonna start calling these late night drabbles or something at this point.
You know those ASMR videos, where it’s two people, and one of them has like different fluffy brushes and oils and stuff that they rub on the person laying down? Like a massage? Visual ASMR?
I’m thinking about a yandere asmrtist who brought you in for one those videos. Maybe you won a giveaway or something, but realistically I think you were originally a fan. So he didn’t know you at all.
But then of course, you showed up at his studio. Stunning. Gorgeous. Irresistible. The whole package really. And he felt something deep in his stomach. Maybe butterflies. Maybe indigestion. Regardless, despite having done this before, he’s nervous. Off the bat it’s awkward.
But he’s a professional. So he powers through. A few moments of idle chat, and various prep work goes by, before you’re lying on the cot, surrounded by herbal candles and oils that already send you into a deep state of relaxation.
He starts the video as he always does, jumping right into it. Brushing your hair back, smoothing down the skin on your shoulders. Tracing your features with a soft fluffy stick thingy. Goes the whole nine yards. And the entire time he is sweating buckets from how aroused he is.
At some point through the session he starts to wonder if his heavy breathing is as visible as he thinks it is. If you can feel the sweat dripping down his arms and forehead. And his composure starts to wane. The way your breathing slows, the way your muscles relax. It’s driving him a little crazy. You’re so…comfortable. Because of him. He made you comfortable.
That means something doesn’t it? I mean you were a fan of his anyway. So obviously you liked him. He liked you too of course. It made him have a new thankfulness for his career. How would he have met you otherwise? His soulmate. No. He wanted to believe no matter what you two would have found each other. This feeling in his chest was so deep and passionate. Surely you guys were past lovers too right? You would’ve found each other.
And since you’ve loved each other before…it should be easy to love again? It’d be natural. Perfect. So when he hands start to squeeze a little more sensually, and his eyes began to lower. He doesn’t feel particularly guilty anymore. Your skin is familiar to his deluded mind. The way his fingers began to dig and mold into your soft skin and flesh, sliding up and down, the fabric of your shirt getting pushed lower…and lower..it’s all familiar. Yes he’s sure of it. You’ve both done this before. Your bodies have collapsed together dozens of times. That’s the only explanation, so there’s no room for guilt.
riiiiiiinnnnngg
And he jumps back, ripped away from his hazey day dream: your eyes fluttering open with a slightly exaggerated yawn that hopefully mutes the sound of his racing heart.
“Wow…” you laugh, and he would’ve taken a moment to appreciate it more if not for his own existing panic. “I totally fell asleep…sorry if that ruined the take.”
He pauses, swallowing thickly as his gaze quickly switches to the green light that beeps atop the camera. Right. He had been recording. He’d have to edit that later.
“No..no it was perfect. I’m sure it’ll make the viewers feel the same ease you were feeling…” his voice is as silky and gentle as always, oozing with the honey that enraptured his audience.
You smiled and hummed with a nod, groggily lifting yourself from the cot you had laid on, and grabbing your things form the chair you had set them on, you lift your hand in a wave. “Well, this was really nice! I totally needed it, and it was super cool meeting you in person! Thanks again-“
“Wait!” He jolted, a blush burning his cheeks at his own over eager behavior. “You did a really good job today, so..I was hoping we could keep in contact if the video does well..”
“Oh..sure thing!”
God you were a total blessing.
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dropsnectar · 1 day
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When The Dragon Saves You from the Prince
Dragon x gn!reader
NSFW
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So it looks like this turned into something a little longer than a drabble. I was going to wait a week until my poll finished but got impatient. So! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!
You knew as one of noble birth, the child of a Duke, that you would eventually be married off to the highest bidder. That's just how marriage was for the nobility. However, you hadn’t expected your loving parents to set up an engagement with an infamously rakish and daft prince. 
You hated the man. Whatever was supposed to be going on between his ears, was judged by that thing between his legs. When he had first met you, he had leveled with you that his reputation was true, and that expecting him to be faithful would be like asking water not to be wet.
Happy to have an excuse not to touch him, you basically ignored the man up until a week to the wedding. One afternoon his father the King had decided the two of you needed to look chummier, so he sent you off on a joint hunting trip with a few nobles. Of course, what you didn’t know was that these nobles were friends of his royal dumbass. 
They spent the whole time mocking your dukedom, and making salacious comments about your body and wedding night. Of course, your idiotic fiance only laughed at your expense, making comments of his own. 
To your own credit, you had handled their buffoonery with grace and wit. At one point, one of your barbed replies had actually struck a chord with one of the nobles, realization dawning on his face. He came off his horse and smacked you with all of his might. Too weak a man for a punch, he had gotten a solid hit on you, and you felt your eye heat and swell. Not good. The atmosphere had gone from snide joy, to predatory. 
The Prince himself got off his horse and stalked forward and pulled you by the hair down to the ground in front of his friends. They demanded to be repaid for the hurt done to them.
“I’m sure your pretty little mouth can be put to better use.” The Prince laughed, and he and his friends started to undress themselves.
That's when a loud, earsplitting screech hurtled through the air. A loud thumping and suddenly a large green dragon with large spikes started stampeding towards the group. He bucked aside the nobles, sending them and their horses running. Your fiance tried his best to pull up his pants, as you reached for his sword, but was unable to do either successfully. The dragon had stopped and stood tall before him, nostrils flaring. A pair of molten eyes stared him down, as if to challenge him. Of course, faced between defending you and running, he chose the latter. 
You couldn’t see the Dragon above you well, on account of the swelling in your eye and the hard pulsing headache that had started to vibrate through your head. The Dragon didn’t move, just stared at you as you blacked out.
***
When you came to you were warm. You opened your eyes to find yourself in a small room seemingly carved out of stone. There was a doorway with no door, that when you traveled through, brought you to a large cavern with high ceilings. You were surprised to find furniture, shelves filled with books, a large wooden desk filled with parchment and ink. 
“You are awake.”
You were startled to find yourself facing a being. He looked somewhat human, but the angles of his jaw, elbows and fingers were inhumanly sharp. His arms were covered in green scales, as well as his webbed ears, giving him away. When he spoke again you could see his sharp canines. He asked about the pain in your head. You admitted to feeling fine and he nodded. You had apparently gotten a concussion. 
The Dragon, who revealed his name to be Reix, explained that he had been exploring his new territory when he had felt evil and human pain radiating from where you had been staying. The land had recently been gifted to him by the king in exchange for his help in finding a cure for an elf and human disease that had run rampant for the last decade. He had taken it as his summer home, and was happy to find your health well.
You were surprised by his poised and friendly demeanor. You had heard that dragons were wild beasts, who occasionally took human form to steal treasure. You thanked him for his help, even if it was for not. You explained that the man had been the prince, and your fiance at that. You would not be able to escape him, even with your influence as a duke's child. 
“If you have nowhere to stay, you may stay here. It may not compare to an ornate palace, but I can assure you it will be better than what you would have to go home to.” 
Choose between a roaring evil monster and a kind, thoughtful being? Of course you were going with the dragon.
As the days went on you learned more about Reix, his character and his interest. He was the quiet studious type who prized his books over anything else. He even kept ancient first editions of many popular novels, some even with signatures. He also had some antique memorabilia, some keys from a printing press from his mothers favorite publishing company, a bookmark from a late saintess who he had befriended long ago. He showed you all his favorite books, nonfiction and fiction. You were even surprised to find that he enjoyed the occasional romance. 
“Why, Sir Dragon, are you perhaps a romantic?” You teased. He looked at you with pursed lips and a faint blush.
“I am not so cold that I can’t be moved by a good story. After all, most people experience it once or twice in their life. Love that is.”
The two of you had been fast friends, bonding over shared interests. You spent weeks, months like this. He would hunt or go out to town for your meals. He taught you how to cook. You were terrible at it at first, but he eventually learned to trust you to make omelets, and the famous everything soup. He was an incredible cook too, and he seemed to enjoy sharing recipes and meals with you. You couldn’t help but notice the occasional fond glances he’d send your way. 
You had to admit, you weren’t unaffected by his presence either. You noticed how strong the muscles of his arms were as he reached up to retrieve a book from the top shelf for you. His glowing hazel eyes always looked at you with respect and reverence. No one had ever looked at you like that before. And you had to admit you had never met a kinder person than him. You loved his smile,how his teeth tended to stick out as he spoke to you.
You were the one to make the first move. Reix had been sitting on the couch, reading in his usual way, when you cuddled right up next to him. You leaned your head against his shoulder and covered your lap and feet with a blanket, as if to nap. He was stiff at first but eventually relaxed into you. You started to do this at every opportunity and you would notice that he would now forgo his study chair for the couch. Neither of you ever said anything about it, but you two never missed an afternoon cuddle.
One day, Reix sat you down, his limbs twitchy and expression solemn. 
“I will be straight with you. My species goes through something called a heat a few times every year. Mine is nearing, so I will be traveling to my home up north for a week.” He bit his lip before continuing. “But do not worry, I will stock the pantry and make sure you are as comfortable as possible while I’m… gone.”
A heat? You had read enough smutty novels to know what that was. The thought made your heart beat hard in your chest and a warmness pool in your gut. Well. Right now was as good of a time as any.
“What if I wanted you to stay?” You enunciated slowly. Reix frowned at you.
“You do not understand, I will not be myself. I will be like an animal. I won't be able to control my instincts.” He stared at you with big watery eyes.
You walked towards his chair and knelt at his feet, taking his hands into yours. 
“I will take all of you, if you let me.” You then pulled his hands up to your cheeks, forcing him to cradle your face. The two of you held each other's gaze for a long time, the tension palpable. 
When he kissed you, it didn’t taste sweet, like his words always were. His breath was fire, after all. The two of you burned up together.
***
You were wretched out of sleep by the feeling of rubbing on your ass. Strong arms gripped your waist, and you felt his ragged breath in your ear, moans sputtered from his lips, whispers of,”I’m sorry.” More groaning, “You feel so good…ahh!” And he came all over your nightgown. 
But this didn’t seem to sate him at all, as he continued to rub himself into the curve of your asscheeks, slick of him coating you and dripping down to your entrance. He seemed to realize you were awake because his voice increased in volume.
“Please. You promised…” He moaned out as he went from fucking your ass to plunging himself in between the plush of your thighs. The change in texture seemed to get him going as his speed started to increase. Much to his annoyance you turned around. He hated having to go even a second without his dick touching you, and you pulled him into a hot passionate kiss.
His mouth devoured you hungrily, arms now roaming the lines of your body. His eyes were glazed over in lust as he reached his head down to suck on your nipples, trying to get you sufficiently worked up. When he was close again, he brought dick up to your entrance, pushing in just the tip as he came. His hot cum slid into you, prepping you for what was to come next. You clenched around nothing, and started grinding on his dick, needing to take more of his length. 
He took you in one harsh thrust. You hadn’t seen what he had looked like before, but you could tell that his dic must have been an unusual shape. The ridges of his dick dragged deliciously against your walls, making you drool. He was so big it was a painful stretch. But you were nobility, and nobility took the long and hard things in life and made it work for them.
You reached your hand down and felt the part of him that wasn’t inside you and slowly started pumping, enjoying the soft, yet firm texture of him. He slowed his thrusting, suddenly overcome by how you were making him feel. The duality of your hands on him and being inside you made him want to scream out. His good little noble felt divine. He was having a spiritual awakening right there in your bedroom, as he got closer and closer to release. 
Eventually you had gotten used to the feeling of him and started rocking your hips in time with his strokes. The delectable friction he was giving you was building up inside you, a hot fiery pit about to explode. Your Reix’s gaze was full of devotion and need, but the way one of his gently came up to cup your cheeks made you burn. Even now, when he was ravaging you like the wild beast everyone assumed he was, he still treasured you.
You came hard around his girth, crying out as white hot pleasure pushed its way from your core to your fingertips. Reix soon followed after, unleashing another impossibly large load of his wetness within you. He slowed his minstrations and pulled out, going back to fucking your thighs until you were properly recovered enough to take him again. And take him you did, all through the night and the following day. 
When his heat had cooled, he brought you fruits, cheeses and bread, taking small bites and feeding it to you, as you were too exhausted to do so yourself. He seemed to take great joy in this as his normal small smile was blinding as he cared for you. He pulled you up and the two of you took a bath. He made sure to wipe you down first, every swipe of his rag gentle as he worshiped you with his glowing eyes. When he was done, he added more heat to the water and joined you, settling you down between his legs as he held your back to his chest.
You rested in silence for awhile, enjoying the warmth of the water and each others skin. 
“We should do something about that fiance of yours. Mind if I eat him?” He was playing with the damp curls of your hair, relishing in the texture. You smiled up at him.
“You don’t know where he's been. You could catch something. But I do have an idea. If you are up for it that is.” 
“For you, I would do anything.”
You smiled. Your father was next in line for the throne after the prince. Reix was a gentle giant most of the time, but you couldn’t help but think what a dashing and benevolent prince he would make.
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alotofpockets · 1 day
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Rough shift | Caitlin Foord x Doctor!Reader
Where Caitlin comforts you after you lose one of your patients
Warnings: surgery, blood, cpr, patient death
Woso masterlist | Words: 2.5k
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“Good morning, how is my favourite little Champ doing?” You ask as you walk into Maya’s hospital room, followed by four of your interns. “I’m doing good.” She answered, but the smile didn’t fully reach her eyes, a tell tale that she wasn’t telling the truth.
You had met Maya last year, when you moved back home to work at the hospital you worked at before. It had been hard leaving London, moving away from your girlfriend and your friends, but there was a shortage of pediatric surgeons at your former place of employment, and they reached out to you. You talked about it a lot with your girlfriend, Caitlin, who was very understanding of why you felt like you needed to go.
The two of you have been doing long distance for the duration of it. While it was hard at times, the two of you made it work. You were already excited to see her later today, since she and the rest of the Matilda’s would be arriving for their training camp.
Maya had been one of your first patients when you got back. She had been in for many surgeries before you had met her, and have been there for plenty after. She was a tough kid, that besides all of the medical treatment remained positive. 
“Alright,” You continued, ignoring the fact that she lied about her well-being. She was here for another surgery because her bowels were acting up again. Sadly no one had been able to find a permanent solution for her illness yet, and repeated surgeries were only short term solutions. “Doctor Taylor, can you present, please?” 
He stepped up with Maya’s chart, and started presenting her case. “Thank you Doctor Taylor.” You said after he perfectly shared all the necessary information. To teach the interns, you asked them a couple questions about the surgery, and made sure that they answered in a kid friendly way to make Maya feel at ease.
“Do you have any more questions for us, Maya?” You turned to the young girl on the bed. “Will you be there when I wake up?” Her eyes filled with hope, “Of course, I always am.” And you had. After every surgery you had been with her in the recovery room, always making sure to give your patients that extra bit of comfort that they needed. 
While your interns walk out of the room, you take a moment to speak to Maya’s parents. While they were used to the surgeries by now, every parent was nervous about their child getting operated on. Surgery on the bowels was always risky.
“How long do you think this fix will last?” You felt for Maya and the family and were gutted for them that there still wasn't a permanent fix. “Our best hope is another few months.” They knew that was the answer they were going to get, yet they still hoped that this time would be different. 
When you walked back into the hall you overheard Taylor brag about being the best in their class, and not needing the hours on peds because he won’t be choosing that specialty anyways. You listen for a bit longer and cannot believe the words you hear coming out of his mouth.
“Why do we keep going with these hopeless cases? It’s not like she’s ever going to get better. We’re just delaying the inevitable.” His words hit you like a punch in the gut, but you quickly gather yourself and step forwards. “Doctor Taylor,” The sharpness of your voice quickly grabbed the attention from everyone around you. “With me, now. All of you.”
You didn’t say a word until you had all of them in an empty hospital room. “These aren’t just cases, they are human lives; children’s lives. You are talking about Maya as if she’s some sort of lost cause, but she’s not. We are giving these kids the best care possible. We are keeping them alive, for when there is a permanent cure.”
Taylor opens his mouth to respond, but you aren't done yet. “If you cannot handle treating every patient with respect, you have no business being in this field. You are off this case, go find the Chief and see if she is willing to put you on a different case today.” He walks off with the whisper of a “Sorry.”
“As for the rest of you, I want to make it very clear that this is not how we talk about patients, especially not on the floor where everyone can hear you. If one of your peers does this, I want you to take the responsibility to tell them off. Do you understand?”
They all nod in understanding. “Good, now that we have that out of the way. Anderson, please get all the tests to the lab and page me when you’ve got the results. The rest of you with me to continue our rounds.
It was your job to make these interns good doctors. You hated having to kick them off cases, but if they treated patients like this, there had to be consequences.
The rest of the rounds went smoothly, and just as you got done with the last patient, Anderson paged you that the results were ready.
“How are we looking, Anderson?” He handed you the tablet, “Looks good. All her test results come back to the right levels.” You look over the results yourself to verify and agree with his conclusion. “Alright, prep Maya, and let me know when she's ready to go to the OR.”
“I'm here!” You announce before bending down and putting your hands on your knees, pretending to be out of breath. “Did I make it? Am I still on time?” 
Maya's giggles filled the room, the reason you loved to joke around like this. Kids deserve to feel comfortable and at ease in a place that is filled with unknowns. 
“We can't start without you, silly.” The girl laughs. “Oh, you're right, silly me!” You wipe the non-existent sweat off your forehead. “Alright Champ, are you ready?” She nodded and reached out her hand for you to hold, like you had done for the last couple of surgeries. 
You hold her hand until you arrive in the OR. “Alright Champ, hop on over.” The girl expertly switched onto the surgical bed. “What flavour popsicle will it be this time?” She puts her hand to her chin, “Strawberry!” You had expected no other flavour, as it was her favourite. You grab your phone and start typing. “Alright, I've let the chef know your order. It will be served when you're ready.”
Once Maya was under anaesthesia, you left the room to scrub. You learned that kids often found comfort in seeing someone they knew, you, for as long as possible. When you got back into the OR you were gowned and gloved, before you went to work.
The three interns still on the case were allowed to observe in the OR. You remembered what residency was like for you, and wanted to make sure that they got as many opportunities as possible in an OR, before they got their first operation.
Everything went smoothly, until it didn’t. 
Seemingly out of nowhere her lower abdomen filled with blood. “I need suction.” You instructed and were instantly handed the device. It was pooling in her abdomen fast that you could clear it. You handed the suction device to Doctor Jackson, who was on the other side of the table. “Lap pads, please, and keep them coming.”
Lap pad after lap pad was thrown in the little bin beside you, but the blood didn’t seem to lessen. “Doctor Smith, what’s her pressure?” You needed one of the interns to read the board, since you were both too occupied with trying to stop the bleeding. “BP is 60 over 40 and falling.” 
You cursed under your breath, while desperately trying to find the source of the bleeding. “Clamp.” The tool was in your hand mere seconds later. You tried to clamp off the vessel, but despite your best efforts, the bleeding didn’t slow down.
“She’s crashing.” The anesthesiologist warned. “Not on my watch. Doctor Anderson, take over suction. We’re going to transfuse.” Doctor Jackson handed over the suction, and got ready to set up a transfusion.
“BP is 50 over 30.” Doctor Smith announced. “Hang in there Maya.” You willed her to fight. But the blood was still not slowing down and her pressure was dropping rapidly. 
“We’re losing her.” The anesthesiologist said with worry in his voice. “We are not giving up. Get the crash card ready.” You took a deep breath and got ready to start CPR. 
The room full of doctors watched in silence as you continued compressions on the tiny body that laid on the table. “Come on, Maya.” Your voice barely above a whisper.
You don’t know how long you had been going, but your arms were starting to get tired. Doctor Jackson put his hand on your shoulder, “It’s time.” You shook your head, “No, she’s just a kid.”
His hand stayed on your shoulder, “You did everything you could. It’s time to let her go.” You slowly stopped compressions and looked down at her still body. Tears blurred your vision as you realised she was gone. 
“Time of death,” You started but weren’t allowed to finish the sentence. “11:16” Doctor Smith filled in. You stepped back and ripped your bloodstained gown and gloves off, and threw them onto the ground in frustration. 
You took a moment to gather yourself. You had to inform her family, and you needed to be strong for them. 
The moment you walked into the waiting room, Maya’s parents stood up. “No.” Maya’s mom said as all hope left her face. “No, my baby.” She could tell from your expression that the news wasn’t good, like it had been previous times. “I’m so sorry,” your voice broke. “We did everything we could, but Maya didn’t make it.”
You stood by as they fell into each other’s arms with tears streaming down their faces. They knew every surgery was a risk, but losing their little girl was something no parent was prepared for. “What happened?” Her dad asks.
“She lost too much blood. I- we tried everything to stop it, but we weren’t able to.” He nodded, still in disbelief. “Alright, thank you.” He got out before letting out another sob. Your heart broke even further. “If you want, you can see her for a bit. Would you like me to take you to her?” 
You walked them to the room and let them have a private moment with their daughter. Once you stepped outside, you got a page and headed to reception where you were asked for assistance. 
In a blur you walked down the hall and rode down in the elevator. It wasn’t until you laid your eyes on Caitlin that your vision got a bit more clear. You make your way over to her, and fall into her arms without saying another word. With her comforting arms around you, you couldn’t hold back any longer. The tears started streaming down your face, and Caitlin had to hold you tight, to keep you up right. 
“Oh, my love, what’s wrong?” She shared a worried look with her best friends Mackenzie and Alanna, who you hadn’t even realised were there too. “Can we go somewhere more private?” She asked softly. You nodded and took her hand. That’s when you realised the other girls. “Oh hi, I’m sorry. You guys can come too.” 
You walked the trio into your office and pulled Caitlin down onto the couch, to fall into her hold again. “I lost her, Cait. I lost Maya, she didn’t make it.” The room went silent. Caitlin held you while you sobbed. 
After a while you had no more tears left. “I’m sorry, you guys were here for a fun time, and now you’re stuck with me being emotional.” Alanna is quick to shake her head, “Don’t apologise, we’re all here for you.” Mackenzie agreed, “Yeah, if there is anything we can do for you, please let us know.” 
“You should drink some water, love.” Caitlin suggested and pointed out the water pitcher to Alanna. You did as you were told, and sipped on the water that Alanna handed you. 
“Macca, could you do something for me?” She nodded instantly, “Of course, anything.” You had thought back of the last conversation you had with Maya. “Could you go down to the cafeteria and get some strawberry popsicles?” The request seemed odd to her, but she asked no questions.
Not long after she got back with four strawberry popsicles. “They were her favourite, we were going to have some when we were in the recovery room.” You put your head back on Caitlin’s shoulder. “This one’s for you Maya.”
You sit with the girls for a while longer. Maya had been your only surgery for the day, as you had taken the rest of the day off to be with Caitlin. When you feel strong enough to get up, you ask them to meet you down in the lobby, since you wanted to check on Maya’s parents before you left.
Her parents just walked out of Maya’s room when you walked onto the floor. You weren’t sure what to say except sorry, which you did again. What happened next surprised you. Her mom hugged you. “Thank you for giving us more time with our girl than we ever thought we’d have.” Every surgery had given her a couple of months longer to live, yet you had hoped you’d be able to keep her alive until a permanent solution was found, they made you realise that keeping her alive this long was a miracle already. 
Maya’s dad gave you a firm handshake. “While now is a dark moment for us all, we want you to know that we know you have given your best to our Maya, and for that we will forever be grateful.”
“Maya was an incredible young girl. While the circumstances of us meeting were never possible, I am honoured that I was allowed to know her. If there is ever anything I can do for you and your family, please don’t be afraid to reach out.”
You made your way downstairs again, where Caitlin met you at the bottom of the stairs. Her arm wrapped around your shoulder, as she walked you out of the hospital. “I sent the girls to get us some food, they’ll meet us at home.” 
You didn’t care for the food, but you were glad to be surrounded by your loved ones. All plans you previously had for the day were wiped off without having to communicate your needs. The couch is where you spend the rest of the day. A movie was playing on the tv, but you had fallen asleep in Caitlin’s comforting arms a long time ago.
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bbokicidal · 13 hours
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"I Guess I Never Knew You." | OT8 [SKZ]
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Genre : Angst [NO COMFORT]
Pairing : SKZ OT8 x GN!Reader
Summary : Based off of a request asking for reactions/how it would play out if the members were to cheat on you during your relationship. Each scenario is different - and these are rather short simply because I am trying to focus on Kinktober right now. Hopefully whoever requested this will be satisfied!
Warnings : CHEATING, lots of crying, angry responses from the boys, dismissal from the boys, reader gets angry in a few of them, yelling, etc. Very emotional.
These situations are all fictional and are not made to represent the boys. While I do write them as well as I can - based closely off of their personality and how I think they would realistically react - I honest to God do not think any of these men would be capable of cheating on their partner. Specifically Jeongin.
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Bangchan - He cheats while you think he's busy with work
The excuses were so easy to make with you. 'Sorry, Angel. I'm staying late at the studio again because Jisung is sick.' 'I'm going in early to work on choreography with Min. See you.' 'Be back late, don't wait up.'
When eventually he just stopped giving you warnings, worry set in. His health was your top priority - but nothing of your own was his apparently. You'd walked into the studio with a small lunchbox full of snacks and water for him, assuming he was staying late again, only to see him with someone in his lap.
It's enough to make you tense, barely hearing his whispers and gently shushes of worry. He was sorry, he meant it, he swore, he didn't know you would find out --
It took every bone in your body to not hit him with that little metal lunchbox.
Lee Know - He cheats with an old friend from school
A girl you'd seen in his posts before. You'd found them kissing in a park while you were on your way to work, walking along the sidewalk only to stop and stare. A few girls had also paused to point and giggle, assuming the girl he was holding hands with was his girlfriend as he'd never done anything with you in public - no one knew that you were the one he should've been sucking face with.
Minho kisses the girl once more before they depart, pivoting on his heel only to fault. He stares at you from where he stands, your unmoving form timid and beginning to shake as the tears streaked down your face. He lifted a hand to reach out, watching as your body turned and - in the pouring rain - dropped your umbrella in your pursuit to get away.
He yelled, crying out for you to stop and let him explain. You didn't seem to listen, putting your feelings first and refusing to hear him out as he chased you down. He was fast - you were faster - darting across the road and narrowly missing an oncoming vehicle as you stumbled to the sidewalk before continuing to run to your apartment.
It really was a good thing you hadn't moved in with him when he'd asked you to.
Changbin - He cheats while away for a weekend
Seungmin had sat you down, told you everything. He'd shown you pictures he'd taken on his phone because he knew you were -- God, you were wonderful. And that wasn't his own feelings for you talking.
You'd been so good to Changbin. You made sure he ate three meals a day, made sure he had water, encouraged him to keep working on his music, his solos - choreography, etc. You'd done everything for him when he didn't have the energy to, visiting him during late nights and hugging him tight to tell him how wonderful he was and that he deserved the world.
Apparently, he grew a bit too cocky during their recent trip to Japan. Seungmin's pictures painted a portrait of your boyfriend with another woman in his lap, his face hidden by her hair as she sucked marks onto his skin that would disappear by the next morning.
You didn't confront him - didn't feed into it. You thanked Seungmin, left after patting his shoulder knowing it would likely be the last time you'd see him, and went home to move everything out of your shared apartment.
The next day, Changbin went on an indefinite hiatus.
Hyunjin - He cheats online
It started with the fucking instagram models.
Then he was messaging people, you find out. Contacting women he'd seen at fashion weeks or previous works with magazines. He'd asked them for photos, told them just how beautiful they were, and after looking through their profiles on your own, you'd felt like every ounce of self confidence you'd had was completely destroyed.
He'd only realized you'd found out when he came home from practice - no, 'practice.' - and found you sitting on the couch with tear stained cheeks and his phone in your hand. He hadn't even realized he'd left it behind, so eager to meet up with the other woman in his contacts.
You'd packed all of his stuff, told him to get out, and he'd immediately started crying. You'd never seen him so devastated, kneeling at your feet to beg you forgiveness until you slapped him and shoved him back by the shoulders. He sat on the floor, stunned at your boldness to yell in his face that he was a liar - a cheater - and that he never loved you.
He'd sniffled, moving to get up and grab the bags you'd packed for him so he could leave. He stands in shame as he waits by your door while you seethe on the couch, silent, calling his new hookup to come get him. He couldn't call any of the members - they couldn't know about this. Not yet. The shame was eating him way.
Han - He cheats while on tour
He's in the USA when he texts you that he needs to break up. It's enough to break your heart, have you sobbing on the phone as you ask him over voice memo why he needs to break up with you now of all times. He was two weeks from being home in your arms - why now??
He'd chalked it up to just feeling distant, feeling as though you were neglecting him and his needs a bit while he was away.
Jeongin later reveals to you over a phone call that Jisung had hooked up with multiple women while they were gone over the months. He sounds broken as he relays the information to you, apologizing as you sob into the phone and saying how you never deserved any of it.
You were more angry than anything that Jisung had broken up with you in an attempt to cover up his own wrong-doings while also saying it was your fault.
Oh, but the twitter post you made the following day was enough to be near career-ruining for Jisung. And it was damn well enough to have him crawling back to you, blowing up your phone and begging you to delete the post. But it was already far too late for him by then.
Felix - He doesn't cheat on you because he's the most perfect sunshine angel baby on earth (I'm running out of ideas)
Seungmin - He cheats on you with someone you know
Your best friend - Well, ex-best friend - was the woman Seungmin had his eyes on. Not you.
He'd dated you to get closer to her, using you as a pawn in his little game until he was close enough. He would curl up next to you in the mornings, whispering soft goodbyes as he left for work before returning home late after he'd spent the evening in her bed.
You'd found out through another close friend who she had let the information slip to. Sleeping with an idol - definitely something to brag about.
He'd knocked on your door for nearly half an hour before you answered, threatening to hit him with a frying pan if he didn't leave. He was filled with confusion until you hissed out that you knew what he was doing. His eyes widened, puppy-like and scared after realizing you'd found out about his little scheme.
"Everyone is right about you! You're a fucking snake, Seungmin. You use people, you're full of fucking lies and bullshit! Do us all a favor and never date anyone again, you piece of dogshit!"
I.N - He cheats on you with a trainee
It's hard to stomach when you see it. He was so young when he entered the idol scene - How was he even doing it? Hooking up with a nineteen year old-- A girl who had just appeared at the JYPE building a few months ago.
She was set to debut in a new girl group - a pretty thing, tall and slim with long hair and a cutesy style. The ideal young woman for a girl group. And apparently he'd enjoyed her, too.
He isn't aware of your presence until you're stomping up behind him and shoving him by the shoulders, stumbling away to turn to you. He stops, breathing hitched and arm still around the girl's waist as she stands stunned.
You'd bit at him, yelling how he was full of shit when he'd said he'd never understand why 'I Like It' was a good song, how he'd never be able to imagine hooking up with people with no romantic intentions.
"You want to be with her then, right? You want to date her? If you really don't believe in just hooking up for fun, that must be the explanation."
He stutters, stumbling over his words as his eyes avert. "W-- ... Well..."
Your chest raised as you took in a breath, wanting to slap the man for his actions. Instead, you'd turned to leave, bumping into a very oblivious Chan on your way out. He'd stopped, asking what was wrong, before turning to peer over at Jeongin and the girl standing there, shame filling the two of them.
"Oh, mate..."
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Permanent Tagist : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersupriseee @possum-playground
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bbyangyl · 2 days
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— EASE YOUR MIND- DEKU | IZUKU MIDORIYA
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— description: after inviting you to an event, izuku has a difficult time deciding if "a date" would be the right term to use.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— w.c: 2.1k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— tags: sfw (however, my blog isn't!), fluff, very soft, deku is basically in love with you but overthinks like CRAZY
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— a/n: here's something that has been sitting in my drafts for a while now. I actually have a lot written so you'll be seeing a lot from me soon :) I just need time to edit a few things. please stay tuned!
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deku was sweating
he was sweating so much that his palms felt drenched, struggling to discreetly wipe them against his pants, hoping you wouldn’t notice. you walked beside him, wearing a smile that outshined the sun.
he doesn’t know how he got here, with you. the only thing he could recall from the events of his spiraling and panicking brain when he asked if you wanted to go with him to a “history of heroes” event, where he scored two tickets for, were your bright, excited eyes and lovely smile when you agreed to go with him.
and then, he was sure he messed it all up when, for some reason, his mouth moved faster than his brain and said “I’m so glad! It’s a date then”
he didn’t mean for the words to be heard aloud. and through his stammering voice and flushed cheeks, he tried so hard to make an excuse; to distract you from the fact that he just called it a date. which meant he asked you out on a date.
but instead of gazing at him in confusion or uncertainty, (or worse, disgust), you simply giggled, nodding as you gathered your belongings before heading out to the dorms.
“it’s a date” you said, walking away from his frozen figure that decided to stay in place on its own accord, processing the three words you repeated back to him.
you said yes, despite him calling it a date, but did you really consider it a date? or did you know he accidentally called it that and you just went along with it, even though he truly did want to go on a date with you. but he never thought you’d ever go on a date with him. and even if he intentionally asked you out, he wasn’t sure a first date with you to a hero event was good enough. You seemed excited for it, should he plan something else?
as he looked up at your retreating figure, he noticed the way you look back at him, with soft eyes and a pretty smile before turning around, continuing to walk away.
he felt his brain short circuit, as you leave him with nothing but blooming red cheeks, shaky legs, and thoughts of you.
as the day of the event arrives, after thirty minutes spent rehearing how to approach you and what words to say, a soft knock unexpectedly echoes on his own door, before being opened slightly.
and he begins to sweat.
there you were, in a cute sundress, looking at him with such a sweet expression on your face. he felt his hands slightly trembling, his heart practically soaring through the air in a fluttering mess. he felt like a fish, mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of what to say. anything at all! at least a hello.
he didn’t trust himself, however. deku had a tendency to ramble and mumble, and he had an small feeling that a simple ‘hello’ would turn into ‘you’re the most beautiful girl in the world’, or something more than he was ready to admit
it was difficult to form words anyways, when just the sight of you is enough to leave him breathless, unable to think about anything else but the fact that you were here, ready to go out with him…
to an event that he had called a date, and you seemed happy to agree...
he felt his face burn, and one part of him believed that the temperature could’ve rivaled todoroki’s quirk.
“hey! I’m sorry if I interrupted you, I just wanted to let you know that I’m ready! If you’d like I can wait in the common area while you’re done.” you say, playing with the straps of your backpack.
he laughs nervously. “o-okay, yeah. I just need to grab a few things and we can head out” he feels his voice get shaky towards the end, and quickly he turns around, flustered, as he pretends to try and find something on top of his bed.
he hears a small laugh from you, before announcing you’ll be waiting for him over there. as your footsteps indicate you walking away, deku immediately lets out the tremulous breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.
the thought of being around you, without the confirmation of what this “outing” was considered to be, caused his nerves to skyrocket. he hated second-guessing, and couldn’t bear the embarrassment he would feel if he treated today as a date, only to find out you thought he was joking, or vise versa.
despite the inner conflicts in his overworking mind, he, at least, was certain of one thing. he invited you and you said yes, and you were now waiting for him in the common area.
with a small, unsteady sigh, he starts to relax a bit. everything will be fine. he’ll take you to the event, and you’ll both have an amazing time, free from his overthinking.
at least, that was the plan.
it’s a bit easier said than done, especially in this circumstance, where his mind is on endless overdrive, hanging out with a girl who practically hung the stars in his eyes.
he felt awkward, realizing that not a single word had been exchanged between the two of you since leaving the dorms. he tried to think of something to say, but the probability of stumbling over his words as he tried to start conversation was unfortunately high.
each step he took felt unnatural, as if every movement was a forced effort, desperately trying to match the light, effortless way you walked beside him toward the museum.
it only made things more complicated when deku realized he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you; it was too overwhelming. but the brief glances he stole, seeing you smile softly as you took in your surroundings, only made the fluttering in his heart grow stronger.
he was sweating
but luckily for him, you were the one to break the ice.
“y’know, I’m actually a bit shocked you invited me out, midoriya” you say softly, glancing at the ground with a small smile on your face. deku turns to you, feeling his hands trembling against his side, wondering if you’ll bring up his embarrassing ‘it’s a date’ declaration.
“what…uhm…what do you mean?” he asks, feeling his voice crack. immediately he feels his face grow hot, watching as you glance at him with a small laugh, no trace of teasing, just amusement.
“it’s just, we’re friends, obviously-“ you begin to clarify, and he can’t help but feel his heart drop slightly, despite that being the facts. “but…I don’t know, you were always so close with ochako, iida, todoroki and our other classmates. we don’t interact as much.”
it was the truth. deku never had much trouble talking or hanging out with his classmates. he was extremely close with a few and, at the very least, felt comfortable around all of them, even with bakugo. deku was proud of how far he had come from his middle school days, now able to talk freely and be himself. he felt lucky. but with you, things were slightly different.
he always caught himself rehearsing what to say before starting a conversation. he’d stumble over his words, his face flushing red during any interaction. just a glance in your direction was enough to turn him to mush. in some ways, you made him feel like his middle school self again; timid and nervous. but the reasonings couldn’t be more different.
“I actually wanted to get closer to you, but funny enough I was always kinda shy around you.” suddenly, he halts any movement. did that come from him? that wasn’t his voice. his eyes widen as he realizes that came from you. shy? around him? really?
“what?!” It was difficult to wrap his head around the fact. all this time he was so focused on how to interact normally with you, never once did he take the time to analyze any interaction you had with him and deem it as shy. you were always so happy and kind, and anyone with eyes could see how much he fumbled through the smallest of conversations with you. the thought that maybe you were also shy around him too, made his heart skip a beat.
he watched as you turn to him, cheeks blooming a pretty pink, like the petals of a cherry blossom fluttering through the air. “yeah…i mean…we talked every now and then. not as often, but you were always so kind despite our limited conversations. I never really reached out to you because I was always a little nervous around you, unable to get a clear picture of how you felt about me.”
you take a small step forward, and he immediately notices the slight hesitation in your movement, as if there was more you wanted to say but weren’t sure if you should. he catches the way you try to meet his gaze but become a little flustered, and how your fingers fidget with the straps of your book bag.
deku had always been so perceptive; picking up on body language and mannerisms with ease. but he never realized how similar the two of you were in your interactions. he was always focused on not looking like a fool in front of you; a blushing mess. Yet now, seeing the flustered look in your eyes instead, he felt himself melt on the spot, fighting the urge to kiss your cheeks.
“when you invited me to the hero event, I couldn’t help but feel happy! and…I felt over the moon when you called it a date. even if you didn’t mean to call it that l-“ you pause, before giving him a gentle smile “-it still made me very happy.”
he gazes at you, momentarily questioning if his mind is deceiving him, conjuring up a hopeful illusion. but as he watches you nervously bite your lip, awaiting his response, the reality of the moment sinks in. he feels his heart flutter in his chest, and the weight of your words sends a shiver through his entire body. “you wanted it to be a date?”
“Is it weird if I said more than anything?” you confess, shyly looking at the ground with uncertainty and anxiousness. he feels himself physically vibrate with excitement, hearts practically forming in his eyes as he steps closer, unable to hold back the confession on the tip of his tongue.
“I-I want that too! I want this to be considered an actual date!” he exclaims with happiness pouring out of his soul, feeling his cheeks become slightly sore from his smile. you look up at him, a shocked expression on your face as you slowly process his words. he watches in time the way your features soften, beautiful eyes widening slightly as you let out a gentle gasp.
“really?” you ask, as he feels the joy practically radiating off of you. deku nods in confirmation, hands trembling from overwhelming delight. he meets your gently gaze, as you both stare at each other with bashful grins before a small laugh escapes your lips, followed by a domino effect of uncontainable giggles between you and him.
he feels lighter, almost euphoric; his entire body buzzing with warmth that radiates from his flushed cheeks, offering a new kind of comfort he’d never known before. he was always used to feel shy around you, his heart brimming with so much love and admiration that he could barely meet your gaze. but now, that love has multiplied, and all he wants is to lose himself in your eyes for as long as you’ll let him.
you step to the side, offering him one last smile before the two of you begin to walk in sync. it no longer feels out of place. just right.
“can I hold your hand?” he asks, a hint of the familiar shyness still laced in his words. but this time, there’s a newfound confidence beneath it. he’s certain you feel it too as you beam at him, gently intertwining your soft fingers with his calloused, scarred hand.
“you know…I…all this time, I was kinda freaking out! I didn’t know if this was actually a date or not, and I was extremely nervous this whole time. I’m sorry if things were a little awkward when we left the dorms” you look at him with reassurance; an amused giggle leaving your lips as you shake your head.
“please don’t apologize. I couldn’t even tell!”
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jungkit · 2 days
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yang jungwon- ache for you
jw x f!reader ☯︎ fluff, angst ☯︎ cursing, suggestive ☯︎ wc 842 ☯︎ not proofread
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You considered Jungwon one of your close friends, having grown up next to each other and your families being close.
Where you were, he was.
And you hate to admit it, but over time, you grew to have a crush on him.
You can’t help it! He’s grown to be such a good person, not to mention handsome.
You’re certainly not the only one either.
It’s almost everyday you hear one girl or another talking about Jungwon.
You know they envy you for being close to him, but even so, you think he only sees you as a friend.
So, you’ve kept your feelings secret.
There have been numerous times where you’ve wanted to confess, but chickened out every time.
You can’t help but swoon whenever Jungwon talks about you to others, which is why when you hear him mention your name, you can’t help but listen around the corner of the hallway.
“She’s so fucking annoying. I get we’ve been friends since we were kids but it’s like I can never escape her. She’s always there, always clinging to me somehow, I wish she’d just back off.”
You feel your heart crack as you take in his words.
Is this how he’s felt about you all along? Or was this a recent feeling?
Either way, tears prick your eyes as you take a step back.
Without warning, someone turns the corner, coming into direct contact with you.
You look up and see Jungwon, a confused look on his face.
He sees the tears in your eyes and knows.
“Y/N…I-”
You put a hand up, telling him to stop.
Turning around, you begin walking away.
“Y/N, wait!”
His hand makes contact with your shoulder, but you shrug it off.
Making your way into the girls bathroom, somewhere he can’t follow you, you sit on the sink and let the tears flow, trying not to make any noise.
Jungwon stands outside the bathroom, trying to coax you to come out and talk to him.
Only when the bell rings do you hear footsteps leaving the area.
You freshen yourself up, splashing some cold water on your face before heading to class.
You spend the next few days completely avoiding Jungwon who is still attempting to talk to you.
Why? You’re giving him what he wanted.
He even came to your house, asking to see you but you told your parents you didn’t want to see him, to their surprise.
They begged you to tell them what happened but you refused.
Despite everything, you don’t want Jungwon getting into trouble.
Jungwon feels like his world is crashing down.
He knows that what he said was true, he did feel suffocated by you, but he didn’t go about it the right way.
He only started feeling this way recently, wanting space from you for a while.
No, he doesn’t hate you, he just wanted to spend some time apart.
Now he feels terrible for what he’s done.
He didn’t miss the side eye your parents gave him, wanting to know why their daughter refused to see him. He wanted to confess, tell the truth but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
As he lays in bed after another unsuccessful day of trying to talk to you, he thinks about the past 18 years of his life.
You’ve always been there, by his side through everything.
And now, he’s possibly ruined everything.
Jungwon reevaluates everything.
Why did he say what he said?
Because he felt suffocated by your presence.
But why?
He’d never had a problem until recently.
As he scrolls through your instagram, he looks at your most recent post.
You’re beautiful, you always have been.
Even at a young age, Jungwon thought you were pretty.
You’ve grown into an amazing, beautiful young woman.
He feels an ache in his heart at the thought of losing you.
He thinks about you, about your smile, your laugh.
Without realizing, he’s begun to ache somewhere other than his heart.
Looking down, he groans.
Now he has to go take a cold shower.
The next morning, you make your way to school, headphones in not hearing the footsteps behind you.
Jungwon throws himself in front of you, grabbing your shoulders so you stop.
Looking up at him, you try not to lean into his touch that you’ve missed so much.
“What,” you say, giving him a cold stare.
“I realized why I said what I said. It’s because I’m so infatuated with you, that I thought pushing you away would push my feelings away. I love you and I’m sorry.”
You freeze up under Jungwon’s hold, processing his confession.
“What?”
“I. Love. You.”
You feel tears begin to cascade down your cheeks, yet this time they’re not sad tears.
“Jungwon, you idiot.”
“I know,” he pulls you into a hug.
Wrapping your arms around him, you squeeze him tightly.
He pulls away, cupping your face and kissing you gently.
You kiss back, sighing in content.
When you walk into school, hands intertwined, you feel revived.
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sorry for not posting for so long, hehe
tagging @pshbites cause she wanted me to ☺️
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ohsc · 1 day
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Imagine Sam with his daughter and she's dressing him up and doing his hair. You know those fairy wings you can wear, her forcing him to wear those and she's wearing a princess dress.
tysm for the request!! i’m a bit rusty so i feel like this kinda sucks and it ended up being much longer than intended lol but i’m loving this verse sm so much more to come :) | juno verse, single dad sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.5k, kid fic, fluff, not proof red, requests open only for juno fics
“Don’t laugh.” Were the first words out of his mouth when he opened the door and saw her stood there.
He had been trying to clean up the apartment when he knew that she was coming over after work — also in an attempt to starve off the giddiness, which hadn’t worked out either — when his daughter had attached herself to his leg and refused to let go until he played with her. Juno, he was convinced, had all of the stubbornness of a Winchester, and he’d rather just give in easily then peel her off of his leg and have a crying toddler and a messy apartment.
Y/N had been visiting more and more over the recent weeks, she had started to work herself into the little routine that he and Juno had been building, and it made him so soft. There hadn’t been somebody that he’d looked forward to seeing like that in a long time.
Her lips were curving upwards as she looked at him, lips pressed together in a clear attempt to not laugh at him. “…you look pretty.”
Juno’s recent game of choice had been dress up, which was honestly just a kinder way of saying she liked to hold him hostage and dress him up until she got bored. His hair was pulled into three pigtails, there were god knows how many butterfly clips up there, and he was pretty sure there were at least two stickers on his face somewhere.
“Thanks,” he rolled his eyes, stepping aside to let her into the apartment. He really tried not to stare as she stepped past, but she really was just so pretty. It would help if he didn’t have Dean in his ear whenever he called telling him that he clearly had a thing for waitresses. “My stylist got bored waiting for you, here.” Sam gently took her jacket from her and hung it up next to his own and Juno’s red coat on the hooks by the door.
“I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not, you look great.” She giggled, a hand reached up with the intention of touching his hair, but the shout of her name from down the hall took both of their attention.
She crouched down just in time to open her arms to the toddler barrelling down the hall towards her, almost slipping on the material of her princess dress in the process which made Sam wince.
“Hey, sweetheart.” She caught Juno in her arms with a tight squeeze, somehow not knocked to the floor. Sam was so immeasurably soft whenever he got to watch her with his daughter, how much she was adored by Juno and how much she adored her back. It was the most important thing to him, that his daughter liked her. And she really did — more than him, he thought sometimes.
“Oh I missed you so much,” she squeezed his toddler once more before pulling back to look at her, smiling as she touched the puffy skirt of her dress. “Oh don’t you look so pretty, Junie? I love your dress.”
“It’s sleeping beauty’s dress,” Juno informed her, smile full of pink chubby cheeks as she soaked up the praise. “Daddy got it for me for my last birthday, when I was three.” She held up three fingers to show her, somehow covered in glitter that Sam could only dread to think was in his hair.
“Well it’s very pretty,” she beamed, gently smoothing over a few wrinkles in the dress. “Are you dressing up daddy to match?”
“No,” she shook her head, tone firm as if it was obvious. “He’s a fairy,” as if she suddenly just remembered what they’d been doing she frowned and let go of Y/N, clumsily stepping around her to grab at Sam’s hand and tugged with far too much strength for her little body. “Daddy, not done.”
Sam sighed, eyes down on her as she tugged on his arm as if she could pull him down the hallway herself. She had turned her big puppy eyes on, the ones he could never really say no to. “I know, Bug, why don’t you let me make Y/N a coffee and then—”
“No,” she whined, tugging harder. “Now.”
The clouds were forming for a tantrum, it had been that way all afternoon, it’s why he’d settled for letting her play dress up in the first place. She always got cranky after pre-school on Mondays. “Baby—”
“It’s okay,” a hand touched his arm and he turned to look at her. “I know where everything is, I can make one. I did interrupt play time.”
“Thanks,” he breathed, ever grateful for how amazing she was with Juno. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have assumed that she had kids of her own. “Really, I’ll make it up—”
“Daddy.” Juno was whining louder, tugging his arm again, and he just let out a breath as he leaned down to scoop her up onto his arms, settling her on his hip.
“Why are you acting up, hm?” Not really annoyed, he knew she couldn’t really help it, he reached his free hand up to tickle at her side until she giggled. Satisfied that he’d successfully worked around a tantrum he led Y/N down the hall with his daughter on his hip, though she already knew the place like the back of her hand. If he wasn’t so nervous he would’ve invited her to stay the night already.
He watched her disappear into the kitchen to make herself a drink before he took Juno back into the living room, and returned to his spot on the floor where he’d been held captive for the past twenty minutes. The floor was littered with hair clips and tiaras and plastic shoes which he’d clean up when she went to bed, but he didn’t really mind the mess if it meant she was happy.
“Daddy,” she was pulling at his hair again, stood on his thighs, only not falling off onto the carpet because of his hands on her sides. He watched her reach for another hair clip, a glittery yellow butterfly, and tried not to wince as he felt it’s teeth scrape against his scalp as she shoved it into place. “Can Y/N play too?”
Juno had been attached to her ever since they’d become friends. It was sweet, endearing really. Aside from himself and Dean, the only other adults she really got to see were her teachers at pre-school. Juno really adored her, clung to her every moment she could. She’d come with Sam to pick Juno up from school once and she’d practically screamed across the playground when she saw her.
“If she wants to, Junie,” he hummed, holding her steady as she leaned to the floor to grab something else. “She had a long day at work, she might be tired.”
“I still play after school.” Her nose scrunched up in a way that made him smile.
“Waitressing is a little different to school, baby. It’s not very fun.”
Juno hummed like she was thinking about it as she scrambled off of his lap to reach into her toy box. “Then she should get a new job,” she settled on, tugging out her pink fairy wings from the crate. “A fun one.”
Sam nodded a little, smiling softly as he murmured, “I agree.”
Little hands pulled at his arm, and he leaned forwards like she’d moved him herself. The elastic loops of the fairy wings were a little small for his shoulders, but he didn’t complain about the tightness of the band as he helped her get them on him, worth it to hear her giggle when it was all done.
“Those look great,” he looked up and watched as Y/N walked into the room, two mugs in her hands, one of which she placed down on the coffee table for him. “You did a really great job, Junie, now he really looks like a fairy.”
The way she was smiling at him was making his face heat up. Jesus, he needed to get a grip.
“Can you play?” Juno clambered off of Sam’s lap again to head over to her, grabbing some butterfly clips from the floor on her way. “Pretty please?”
“Baby, I’m sure she’s probably really tired—”
“It’s okay,” she waved him off with a fond little smile, before she looked back to Juno. “I’ll play if you make a deal with me, sweet girl.”
Juno nodded furiously like it was the most important thing in the world.
“If you promise me that you’ll eat your vegetables with dinner you can dress me up however you like, hm?”
Juno beamed and nodded, her little pinky clunkily hooking around the one that Y/N held up.
Sam met her eyes over Juno’s head, mouthing a thank you that earned him a smile in return. God, he was smitten.
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previous | how far can we go? — two | next
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your face goes so incredibly red when you process everything that happened in the past few minutes since kinich saved your ass and you begin sputtering out an apology. “i’m so- i’m so sorry about that it just happened and i wasn’t thinking and just—”
“it’s fine. although, i think i’d want to make you pay me extra for all of... that.” he says nonchalantly, eyes fixed on the path ahead. and quite honestly, you couldn’t care any less. all that matters is that kinich saved you and he definitely deserved the extra. the air between the two of you falls silent.
you decide to break it. “uh, so did the chief. you know. ask you to...” he hums in affirmation before responding. “yes, and i must say it was quite stupid of you to turn back.” his statement makes you flush with embarrassment once more. you even feel a tiny bit offended if you were to be frank, but he was not wrong. you should not have turned around at all.
“i know...” you grumble. “it’s just, i don’t think i would’ve been able to best him in any other situation either.”
“if you hadn’t tried to pull anything i could have just gotten done with it with none of that fuss.”
“how the hell was i supposed to know you were tailing me?” you retort. you feel a pang of guilt within and you bite your lip. “...i’m sorry for putting you on the spot like that! i’ll make it up to you however i can!” you say, hoping he takes your offer because you REALLY didn’t have the extra mora to spare.
“wait, i wasn’t being serious,” kinich turns to look at you. he was only half joking, never intending to charge you any extra since technically he carried out whatever wayna commissioned him to. “but i could always cash in the favour another time, i guess.”
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taglist !
@yuriisclumsy @fandomfan-102 @jiminscarmex @keiiqq
[please send me an ask or DM if you would like to be added ♡]
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you can't be this oblivious
bradley bradshaw x fem!reader
warnings: none except like one swear word lol.
word count: 1026
summary: oblivious!bradley x affectionate!reader!! reader is super affectionate to everyone but it is different with bradley. She’s sweet to everyone but she isn’t sitting at a table for 30 mins and letting just anyone rant about their day, unless they are rooster.
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Y/N Y/L/N, aka Magnet was just that. A Magnet. 
“And then they had me doing pushups because I made a snarky comment according to them.”
Bradley Bradshaw better known as Rooster was someone you would consider a best friend. Though Phoenix would argue he’d be more than that if he wasn’t so oblivious. 
“I mean what did you expect Roo? I would’ve had you doing the same thing.” she giggled into her glass. 
They had been at the Hard Deck for around two hours now, coming right after they got off. It felt like a ritual at this point. Work, Hard Deck, go home and then repeat. There were a million other things they could all do and yet they always came here. Maybe it was the atmosphere that cheered them up after a long day. Or the beer.
What she hadn’t expected was sitting at a table for the last 30 minutes with Rooster ranting about the trouble he’d gotten in earlier, she didn’t mind that though. She could listen to him talk forever. There were very few times that Rooster felt comfortable enough to share things so anytime he did, she took it seriously. 
“You wouldn’t even think to punish me Mag, we both know that.” Rooster replied with a smirk playing on his lips. 
She often thought of what it would be like to kiss him. Would his lips be soft and plushy or more rough like he pretended to be. She liked to believe it would be the first option. She’d never get to really know though as it seemed he never reciprocated the feelings she was putting out. 
“You don’t know what I would do, Rooster. I could make you do 20 pushups right now.” she said
“And I would do them.” he said, a twinkle in his eye or maybe it was the lighting. 
She gasped quietly hoping he didn’t hear. Flirty Rooster only came out after a couple of drinks. She had heard the phrase that drunk words are sober thoughts. Never really believing it though, he never had so much to drink he couldn’t remember saying something so eye raising to his supposed best friend. 
“The worst thing about all this extra work is I feel like I have no time to eat something good. It’s always some fries from here and a couple beers” he continued, brushing past his previous statement. 
Coming back to her senses she spoke quickly, “We could go out together. I mean all I do is drink a couple of beers here.”
She felt him tense up. Preparing for the worst she thought of a way to recover.
“You are truly my best friend. I mean nobody else would’ve offered to do something like that.” Rooster spoke up before she could backtrack. 
Her heart cracked slightly. Best Friend. Who knew two words could hurt so much. Glancing to her right she could see Hangman and Phoenix cringing at the sight. Warmth flooded her body as she began to stand up. 
“Hey where are you going?” he questioned following her up. 
“Yeah um, my head is starting to hurt so I think I’m just going to head home. I’ll see you tomorrow Bradley.” she said as she turned to walk away.
Bradley? She only called him by his first name when she was upset or poking fun at him. 
“Well at least let me take you home? I mean I brought you here.” he rushed out.
“No. It’s fine I’ll call an uber.” she pushed past a few people and walked out the door. 
Shoulders slumping Rooster glanced out the window at the woman. Phone in hand she was true to her word in calling an uber. He felt a pang in his heart watching her. Had he done something wrong? 
A hand clapped against his shoulder. He could smell the cologne and know who it was before even turning his head. 
“Well that was a shit show. I mean come on, Rooster, you can’t be this oblivious.” Hangman said with a cocky smile. 
Shrugging his hand off Rooster turned his head; the muscles in his jaw contracting, “What do you mean, Hangman? Oblivious to what?”
Hangman laughed at him, “You’re meaning to tell me that you haven’t realized that Magnet has been flirting with you ever since she met you? I mean she practically asked you on a date a few minutes ago.” 
Was that a ringing in his ears? Y/N flirting with him? Bradley felt like his head was going to combust where he stood. 
“And there's the look of realization. You really must’ve been oblivious.” Hangman added. 
“I think you’ve gotten this all mixed up. I mean Y/N is close and affectionate with everyone. She leans her head on your shoulder, gossips with Phoenix, and is constantly fixing Bob's glasses. And with me she just leans up against me, compliments me and listens to me rant and she-” Rooster took a pause. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. I mean Rooster, Y/N is an affectionate person for sure. But she has never once listened to one of my rants and she’s the only one who'll listen to yours.” Hangman said, an almost serious look on his face. 
“I just watched my future wife walk out that door after asking me on a date.” Bradley said.
“Well hold on nobody said she was-” Hangman started before Rooster talked over him.
“No Hangman, trust me I know. That is going to be my wife. As long as I haven’t ruined everything.” Rooster said, confidence in his voice. 
“Well then I guess you should go get your wife to be.” Hangman said, a small smile on his lips. 
“Yeah I’ve got to go.” Rooster took off out of the bar and to his car. 
“I cannot believe it took him that long to realize that.” Phoenix said, walking up besides Hangman. 
“He’s a little oblivious but we got there. Hope he has a gorgeous ring to propose with. Claims that’s his wife to be” Hangman replied. 
“I don’t doubt that.” Phoenix remarked quietly, watching Rooster peel out of the parking lot.
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let me know if anyone wants a part 2!
!!!please don't repost my work anywhere, translate, or bind my works anywhere without permission!!!
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kissitbttr · 3 days
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small prologue from frat!sukuna
*gojo finally has you!*
-
gojo satoru is a man with many things.
he’s rich, handsome, smart, popular. a number one heartthrob on campus and he’s enjoying every second of it.
and you’d think that a man who has it all wouldn’t be seen asking for more. because what could’ve he wanted more than what he has now?
well,
he wants you.
“i don’t understand why you keep resisting me. why do you keep thinking about him?! i can treat you better!”
gojo is in fact very much stubborn. soon as he heard what sukuna has done to you, he can’t stay silent any longer. he needs to save you. he needs to see you. he needs to hold and kiss you.
he needs you. period.
so he confesses everything. the bottled up feelings he has over the last few months. the only problem is that you don’t believe him. and even if you were, what are the chances of gojo is only here to play with your feelings?
but he’s determined to make you think differently,
“gojo you are not thinking straight—“
he scoffs, shaking his head at you being so hard headed. “y/n! for once, i have never been so sure and set for what i have in mind than i am right now! i care about you! i love you, why are you so—argh!”
“he’s your best friend! how could you so easily say all that to me knowing me and him were together at some point?!” you cross your arms, looking up at him with a hard look that he somehow loves.
again, gojo groans, flaring his arms up before bringing them down. “jesus, we still on that?! why is that pink haired mother fucker has you wrapped around his finger while i’m here begging to be wrapped around yours?!”
you stand still. trying your best to not to get his words affects you despite your unusual beating heart says otherwise.
you have never seen gojo satoru so worked up. hands on his hips, eye brows scrunched as if he’s thinking hard on which ass he has to beat
(keyword:sukuna)
“i don’t care if he’s my best friend” he says with a softer tone, pretty blue eyes looking intently into yours. “I don’t care if we’re in the fraternity and how that makes us frat brothers…because I cannot tolerate the fact that he hurt you”
and another thing? you have never seen gojo acts so soft,
so putty… so careful with his words… so..
in love
“the one girl who i have strong feelings for during the time he had you… the only girl who has me feeling excited to wake up each morning and look forward to see every day…the only girl who’s got the guts to call me out on my shit” he takes another step closer to you, and he finds a relief to see you’re not stepping back,
his eyes study your features. each and every single one of it.
you are so damn gorgeous, it is driving gojo insane.
“and i am in love with her” he says it again that night with confidence, his hands move slowly to cup your cheeks and make you look at him. “all i’m asking for is a chance… that’s all”
“tell me what i have to do to make you trust me… that i’m not here to play with your feelings”
speechless. is the only thing you feel right now. you can’t exactly form any sentences because it feels like everything is on halt.
what do you say to your old hookup’s best friend that he’s in love with you? and how do you feel about this?
it’s not that you don’t love him back, in fact? it could be the opposite.
he, among the many friends of sukuna is the only one who always checks up on you. during parties, he’d make sure to keep you hydrated because you don’t drink as much alcohol. he’d make sure to have you eat your meals. he’d make sure that you get home safe after class or your part time job. gojo also makes sure that you receive as much as praises you need for the time you got A on your criminal justice class or won a case,
and he’d be sure to tell you, he’s got a taste of your homemade soft cookies that you made. ispahan is his favorite.
maybe gojo satoru is made for you.
“you are so… dumb and pathetic, satoru” you shakily whisper, though make no attempt to remove his hands from you,
he lets out a small laugh, nodding.
“i can be that, baby” he replies, resting his forehead on yours,
“i can be whatever it is you want me to be as long as i get to call you mine”
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