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#PLUS you know she had first time parents who didn’t parent very well AND she was a COVID baby
johnwickb1tsch · 2 days
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Excessive Force : a Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE AMAAAZING @treedaddymcpuffpuff 😘😘😘) - Chapter FOURTEEN ---> (all chapters)
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trigger warnings: mention of police shooting, child trafficking, past childhood trauma, abuse, etc. plz take care!
“Are you serious?!” You have to move the phone away from your ear to avoid a blown drum from Sheila’s screech. 
“Yup.”
“Okay, why don’t you sound as excited as me?” 
“I’m nervous. He’s really forward. And, I haven’t been on a date in forever.” That didn’t end horribly… You’ve decided not to count the fiasco with Julian. You’re in your room, fingering through the limited collection of nice clothes in your closet. You briefly debate wearing a turtleneck and thick linen pants just to piss him off. But, also, there’s that little sundress you bought at the mall that you’ve never gotten a chance to wear… The pretty, soft color would pair very nicely with your silky cream bra and panty set—that you also have never worn. You’re starting to re-think the whole not being a prude thing. 
Plus, it’s hot outside.
Sheila pulls you from your search. “Listen, if he tries anything, just kick him in the dick. Works every time.”
“He’s like eight feet tall. I don’t know if I can reach his dick… with my feet.” 
You both giggle. 
“That’s why they make step stools.” 
“Like, for that exact reason?” 
Sheila’s one of those people that has proven to be supportive. You met her on a bus tour your first week in LA and have been buddies ever since. It works perfectly since you both have hectic work schedules and don’t really expect anything from the other one. She calls you for drinks, you call her for lunch. Sympatico. 
“Obviously. So, he’s tall. Is he hot?” 
You tug your bottom lip between your teeth when you think back to his bare, bruised body on your exam table, those mile long, strong thighs that caged you in and felt more like they belonged to an Amazon Boa rather than a man. 
“Okay, that silence either means hell yes or hell no, so which is it?” You hear the grin in Sheila’s voice.
“First one.” 
You end up telling her about his persistent hospital visits, him pulling you over, maybe omitting some—okay, no, a lot of the details just so she doesn’t want to kill him just yet. You also haven’t told her about the Julian debacle–or that Tom basically rescued you. 
You also leave out that he just happens to be the new superhero on every news channel right now. You’re still processing that yourself, and it’s not boding well for you keeping your cool with this man. 
As it turned out, it was the news that informed you of Officer Tom Ludlow’s whereabouts those lonely night’s you’d missed him harassing you on that lonely stretch of highway. He wasn’t ignoring you. He was rescuing two teenage girls who had been kidnapped and trafficked by a gang. According to the report, Ludlow had entered the house after hearing a cry for help, alone, and gunned down every single one of the gangbangers before setting the girls free.  
Parts of this story should have alarmed you, but there had been a time in your past when you would have given anything for a person of authority to ride to your rescue, red tape be damned. How many times had the cops come to your house for a domestic disturbance between your parents, and left you in a bad situation because of some legal technicality or another? How had they seen you, scared and dirty, cowering in the doorway, and left you behind? The horrors you could have told them, if only they’d cared to ask without your parents there to overhear and threaten you, but every time until the last time, they’d just left you in the hellhole that had been your childhood home.   
How different your life—your sister’s lives—would have been if you had a Thomas Ludlow back then.
The twin girls’ MISSING posters and billboards were all over the city. Most anyone with the power to do something had given up on them as a lost cause, just another sad story, written them off as tragically probably dead in a gutter, but not Ludlow. Ludlow had risked his neck (and possibly his badge, because you’d heard of the old “I heard a cry for help” trick to gain entry, and it was almost always code for “I didn’t have a warrant, what are you going to do about it?”, to get them out, and goddammit if that didn’t just warm you to your toes and soften your heart.
Worse yet, you feel like the biggest asshole for calling him a fraud, to his face, the night after it all went down. He’d just taken it on the chin, and he still asked you out. 
Ok, he technically extorted you, but it just doesn’t feel as sinister now as it had last night. He’d been bold, and borderline needy for some human tenderness, and fuck if you didn’t understand all too well why now. 
Now, rather than having to keep yourself from tearing him a new one, you were afraid you were going to have to restrain yourself from crawling into his lap at the first opportunity, and fucking his brains out for being such a goddamed hero. 
“Oh, he’s a freak!” Despite saying this, she sounds like she’s twirling her hair and kicking her feet. 
You snort. “He’s got..uh…nice hands.” 
You decide on the sundress and the bra-panty set, but you don’t bother laying them out in preparation, because you’re still telling yourself that this isn’t that big of a deal and you’re not that invested and that if Tom Ludlow kisses you, you won’t burst into flames.
You want to take a bath, leave some scent of those seldom used lavender lemon oils lingering on your skin, but decide against it. 
No. Actually. You’re doing it. Taking a nice,  warm, spiced soak, rubbing lotion over every piece of you except the very sensitive bits, shimmying into the undergarments. The panties end up being cheekier than you like, but your butt looks cute, and the dress covers everything pretty good, anyway—well, everything that matters. 
After putting your hair up in a messy bun and throwing some mascara on, you’re ready for—actually, who the fuck are you kidding, you are the opposite of ready. Borderline panicking at the thought of this man coming to pick you up and taking you out and putting on his lewd charm and ruining this cute underwear. 
By the time he buzzes downstairs, it’s too late to decide on another pair of shoes. You have to live with sandals—with the fact that he might just look down and get a full, unfiltered view of your toes curling when he opens his pretty mouth. 
You’re totally fucked, here. 
You think it again when you open the door, finding his lean form all in black, leaning on the wall with his hands in his pockets and his full bottom lip between his teeth, like he’s already thinking about eating you up. You literally feel it as his eyes look you up and down, from your messy bun to your pink painted toes. It’s been two seconds, and already you are soaked between your thighs. 
Doomed. You are just fucking doomed, and a part of you is just ready to surrender, because it takes so much goddamn energy to fight your attraction to this man. You can feel it like live electricity crackling over your skin. 
Of course, there’s that other part of you that wants to run right back up those stairs and lock yourself away from this gorgeous devil.
“Hey, beautiful.”
Your mouth opens to reply, but your brain takes a few seconds to catch up, utterly short circuited by how ridiculously handsome he is in his black button down, his dark pants belted low on his hips, those big feet in black boots. It’s a little strange, seeing him without his badge or his gun on his hip–but you can work with this. 
“Hi,” you answer, scathingly clever as ever. 
“Ready to go?” 
You’d brought down your purse, to avoid inviting him into the private sanctuary that is your little shoebox of an apartment, but now you almost regret it. 
“Yeah. Where are we going?” You step out the door, but he doesn’t move back, relishing your close proximity with a smirk. But there is a new softness in his brown eyes as he looks down at you that makes you a little weak in your knees. He reaches up to touch your cheek, feather light, and it boggles your mind how this man can be such a beast, and yet so gentle when he wants to be. 
“You’ll see.” You narrow your eyes at him, but for once, it’s more playful than fueled by annoyance. “Relax,” he says, his shapely mouth dancing as he suppresses a smile. “You’re in good hands, honey.” 
You don’t even flinch, as he drives this final nail into your coffin, the wave of desire inspired by the thought of those oh-so-capable hands and what they just might do to you tonight buzzing down your spine. This is how you die–you are strangely, almost, ok with it. 
When he has you safely ensconced in the passenger seat of his sleek black Charger you look over at him, his long arm draped over the wheel as he navigates the hostile environment of LA traffic like a shark patrolling a reef. “So…I saw you on the news last night.”
He lifts one of those dark brows, though his expression remains otherwise unreadable. “Haven’t really looked at what they’re saying,” he admits, like he’s used to the media getting the details wrong towards their own ends. 
“They said that you saved two underaged girls that were being traffiked?”
His mouth turns down, and you wonder if you’ve killed the happy vibe of the evening so soon with your nosy questions. But then again–you need to know. It’s a gnawing curiosity in your gut not just for the events that transpired, but the man who orchestrated them. Who you are currently alone in a car with, so you reason you have a right to know.
“Yeah,” he simply answers, not keen to crow his own praises. 
“And you…killed all those guys?”
He gives a sigh that seems to come from the bottom of his soul. You sense a weariness in him that he’s never shown on the outside before. 
“Yeah.” A long silence draws out between you, before he adds, “They were very bad dudes, y/n. Please don’t be afraid of me.”
You can’t exactly say that you’re not–but ironically, the news of him shooting down those gangsters really has nothing to do with it.   
“I’m not. I mean–if they were abusing those girls, then they deserved it.”
He looks you over then, an appraising look as though you’ve given him some new information about your character. Maybe information you didn’t exactly mean to give away, but it’s out there now. He’s going think you’re a kindred spirit–or a blood thirsty gremlin. 
Either way, you don’t really want to discuss why you sympathize with those girls, and with him. 
“Are you okay?”
This question seems to take him aback, like he truly wasn’t expecting it. He’s surely used to being a pillar of stoic manhood, but you know this shit takes its toll. “Yeah. I’m fine, sweetheart. Thanks.”
You eye his hand resting on the center console, and a part of you very badly wants to reach out to him and take it. Almost as though he can sense it, or maybe because he wants it as badly as you do, he holds out his hand palm up in invitation. It’s possible you stare at that hand for a beat too long, his wide calloused palm and long blunt fingers. Long enough that he tries to play it off, starting to take it back, before you quickly lace your fingers with his. The way he smiles to himself sends warmth blooming all the way to your toes, and you’re glad he’s driving because they do, indeed, curl in your sandals. 
You give him a little squeeze, relishing the way your hand feels so tiny and protected in his own, and say, genuinely, “I’m sorry. For calling you a fake cop.” 
He clicks his tongue. “I’ve heard worse from people that aren’t half as pretty as you.” 
You want to fight with him on that—scoff, roll your eyes—but you just can’t, because as much as that small, whiny part of your brain tells you he’s lying, the bigger, rational part absolutely knows just by the sincerity in his tone that he thinks you really are a pretty, sublime creature. 
“But I still kinda think you’re a jerk,” you half tease. 
“Mmmm, what happened to that feisty little thing I know? She change into a cute sundress and suddenly become sweet?” 
You are loathe to admit the real reason for your change of heart. 
“You wish.” 
He chuckles. “Bet I can make you sweet.” 
You’re a total idiot for what comes out of your mouth, and your underwear is the one that will more than likely end up paying for this mindless insolence. “How?”
He brings your hand up to his mouth, lips brushing over the thin skin of your knuckles, sending a spear of desire through your arm and into the rest of your body. You make a tiny choked noise when his tongue peeks a taste of your skin, going unfocused and fuzzy, radio static and full throttle cavewoman. 
He kisses the center of your hand, then murmurs, “With sugar, silly girl.” 
It's not only the panties that pay a high price, but also your throbbing heart, pleasantly tense and hot and full of desire. 
He must find your slack jaw and blank stare immensely entertaining, because he’s laughing low and soft, rumbling in delight. 
“Are you okay?” He asks. 
“I’m fine.” There has never been a more heinous lie uttered in this entire state. 
You’re fairly new to LA, but you soon realize from your surroundings that he’s taking you to the Santa Monica Pier. 
You are thanking the universe and the gods when you arrive at your destination. Five more minutes—hell, seconds—trapped in that car with him and you would have climbed into his lap and started barking. 
When he swings into a parking space designated just for Law Enforcement you turn to him with a lifted brow, as though to say, Abuse your authority much? 
But you already know the answer to that. This date is a product of it. And so far…it’s not so bad. 
“Do you like fish tacos?” He asks, keeping your hand and massaging that bulky thumb over your wrist.
“Shouldn’t you have asked that before you made a reservation?” you taunt him. 
“No reservation,” he informs you with a quirk of his mouth. “But the manager owes me a favor.” 
He waves around the busy avenue and beach walk bustling with people, peppered with colorful shops and restaurants of every kind. “Pretty sure we can find you something you like, if Mexican food with an ocean view isn’t your thing…” He says it with a smirk, and you’re seriously not sure if you want to kiss this man or smack him. Maybe both, but save it for later, sings out the little devil on your shoulder before you can tell it to shut the fuck up. 
Good lord. 
You’ve heard of the restaurant–and that it’s famously hard to get into. You wonder if his connection is a product of a favor for a good deed, or a bit of blackmail. Maybe a little bit of both. You’re finding more and more that it’s hard to put this man in a single box. 
“Honestly…?” You make him wait for it, and you can tell your effort to put this confident man on the spot only half succeeds, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. “That sounds pretty amazing.”
This evil, evil gentleman. He opens your door for you, helps you out of the car, stands patiently while you fix your dress, only half looks at your exposed thighs before you pull the hem down and cover them up again. 
Then, he threads his arm with yours and leads you onto the pier. You can’t believe you’ve never taken the initiative to come here before. It’s beautiful, lit up like a modern carnival of neon lights. 
“Oh, can we go on the Ferris wheel?” You ask, looking up at him. 
“Let’s get some food in you, and then we can do whatever you want.” He really needs to stop being so…caring. It’s seriously starting to mess up your insides. 
You turn into a fascinated kid as you walk down the salt coated slice of wood built out over the ocean, looking this and that way, pointing things out, mentioning possible after-dinner activities. You feel like you’re getting annoying, but Tom just seems amused by your sunburned tourist behavior. 
You pass by a little shooting booth with huge stuffed bunnies hanging from the rack, and he must see the way you’re ogling them, so he leans down close to your ear. “I could win you one of those?”
You grin back up at him. “I can win you one.” 
“Oh? Little sharpshooter?” 
It sounds like he doesn’t believe you, so you stick your tongue out at him between smiling lips. 
He pokes your forehead in retaliation. “Anybody ever tell you how fucking cute you are?” 
The restaurant lives up to its popularity and then some. It takes a while to get here, but you just know it’s worth every foot blister when they sit you down and immediately serve a popped bottle of iced sparkling water and delicious, warm salsa and chips. 
You made it just in time to catch the purple orange sun sinking below ocean level, and the front row seats really just make the view that much more spectacular. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if a dolphin jumped from the water, illuminated by the dying sun, just like in the movies.  
“This is… amazing.” You grab some tortilla chips to munch on while he pours you both glasses of the fancy water. “Have you ever been here before?” 
“Once.” He doesn’t elaborate, so you don’t want to push the issue, but you can tell there’s some kind of ache behind that simple word. 
“Okay, so you’re obviously not from LA—where are you from?” He leans over the table a bit, curious. 
“Kansas.” 
He opens his mouth, but you stop him because you already know what he’s going to say. 
“Don’t do it.” You point a warning finger at him, giggling like an idiot. 
“God, but I really want to,” he groans. 
“So,” you say, taking another bite of chip. “Why did you become a cop?”
“You start with the heavy questions, huh?” he teases you. “Thought I was the one who was trained in interrogation?”
You suppose he’s right, considering your earlier line of inquiry in the car. But you shrug in response. Considering how you ended up here, you see no reason to tiptoe around things. “Just curious.”
He offers up an easy smile, letting you know you didn’t offend him. “Well, I actually always wanted to be a dentist.”
You snort with disbelief, trying to imagine this man’s bedside manner. But then, dentists do get to cause people a lot of pain… “Ok. Maybe that tracks.”
“I’m fucking with you,” he informs you with a smirk. 
You do your best to appear annoyed, and fear you fail at it badly. “Guess it’s not hard to imagine you pulling teeth, is all.”
He huffs at that. “I always wanted to be a cop, since I was a kid. My old man was a detective. Killed in the line of duty. I guess I felt like I needed to pick up his unfinished business.”
You blink at that. You and your big fucking mouth. “I’m sorry,” you say, reaching for his hand across the table. He curls his fingers with yours, playing with your aqua painted fingernails with his thumb.
“It’s alright. Happened a long time ago.”
“How old were you?”
“Eleven.”
You squeeze his hand in yours, saying nothing. 
“What about you? What made you want to be a nurse?” 
You don’t really feel comfortable enough to tell him your whole coming-of-nurse story, so you give him the cut version: “when I was young and felt like I had no one, a nurse comforted me.”
“How young?”
“Ten.”
He winces. “Maybe I’ll get the full version of that story one day?”
There’s an epiphany, here, in this little restaurant with the comfy blue chairs, and it’s that Tom Ludlow scares you because he makes you feel something deep, deep inside your chest that you can’t even remember being there before he came along. Julian was easy, child’s play; although it stings, you’re writing him down as just another failed fling. You know if Ludlow gets his hands on your little sensitive heart, it will be a very different story. 
You take a big drink of water to wash down the salty crunch. “Sorry.”
“For?”
“Being so…cold.”
He chuckles. “Oh, you are so cold. Gonna have to make it up to me.”
Warmth floods the top layers of your skin. “I already said I’d win you the bunny.”
You’re amazed at how easily he can transition back into a smooth, carnal beast. “I don’t know if that’s enough for me to forgive you.” The fake hurt in his tone should not make you squirm in your seat. 
You bite like a dumb, good little fish should: “okay, then, how do I make it up to you, Officer Ludlow?” 
You’re hoping to faze him with the sultry innocence of your tone, but it just fuels his devilish aura instead. “We can start with me turning you over my knee.”
You don’t have a retort, but your vagina absolutely does, and she gets you squirming in your seat. 
He leans forward, knowing smile sure to be your undoing one way or another. “Would you like that?” 
“Thought you didn’t want to hurt me?” You challenge, trying to keep cool despite the blazing Ludlow heat. 
“Who says spanking has to hurt? Dr. Bitch?”
You can’t help the giggle that rolls out of you, and he seems to find it entertaining that you have to cover your mouth to hide it. “No, Tom, believe it or not, I am a grown woman who has lived an experienced life.” 
“And how was it?”
You tilt your head. “What?”
“You know, when you asked one of your vanilla boyfriends to swat that gorgeous, plump ass a little bit? Just to see how it would feel.” He leans his chin on his palm, listening intently for your answer, and you think you might be on your way to spontaneous combustion. 
How in the fuck can he just hit the nail right on the head like that? Know about parts of your life that you haven’t shared with anyone—not that there were many to share with. Are you really this readable? 
Once again, he has your sharp tongue dulled with arousal and embarrassment, and you shift in the chair. “He did it, like, once and then stopped.” 
“And did you like it?” He presses. 
“Yes.” 
He takes a little sip of his water, raising both dark brows over the glass at you. “Good to know.” 
Tom recommends the margaritas and fish tacos, so you let him order for the both of you while admiring the view. You can’t decide which one you like better, his handsome face or the ocean scape.
As you are finishing your delicious dinner the last rays of the sunset are putting on a five star show for you, the sky painted that impossible deep blue and purple, the water shimmering like color-changing opals.
“It’s so beautiful here,” you sigh, and you catch him looking at you out of the corner of your eye with a softness you haven’t seen from him before. You get up the courage to meet his eyes, and he smiles at you, but for once not like he intends to eat you.
“You’re not in Kansas anymore, sweetheart.”
“Goddammit.”
He laughs at that, a real belly laugh that makes you warm all over even without the aid of your two nursed margaritas. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah. I’ve got to out shoot you for that little bunny now.” 
This wins you more genuine laughter. “Alright, Annie Oakley. Lead the way.” 
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LEVIN AND MALACHI ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
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plus some family portraits <3
alrighty you know the drill—— headcanons!!
Levin First:
When Aph found Levin’s mother, she told her that Garroth was Levin’s real father. She couldn’t go on without him knowing. So, Aphmau told Garroth this, which was a real shock considering Garroth didn’t even remember Matilda. But regardless, he understood that his memory had been wiped and he vowed to raise his son properly, with the love he never received.
Levin is like crazy strong, despite not appearing to be. Probably due to him being the son of the literal incarnation of the Esmund the Protector.
He’s not actually a descendant of Irene. The late lord Malik claimed to be a descendant of Irene in order to obtain power, but it was never true and it ended up getting him killed. So even if Levin was Malik’s actual son, he’d still not be a descendant of her’s.
However, the Shadow Knights believe he is, which is why there’s such a large target on his back. But even if they knew the truth, he’s still descended from a Divine Warrior, so the target would only be a tiny bit smaller.
When he finds out that both his bio father and adoptive mother are Divine, he kind of freaks out. Not only because of how insane that is, but it makes him feel worse about not possessing any magicks himself.
Not entirely a headcanon but I feel it’s worth mentioning; His biological mother, Matilda, was a wood elf. Therefore he is half elf. Wood elves tend to be short and stocky, hense his build. (the wood elf part is the headcanon, but not the bit about her being an elf. that’s canon)
His blue shirt is made from an old cape of Garroth’s. It was his way of honoring his long lost father, whom he never really got to know.
Malachi:
When Malachi died, his soul went into a sort of slumber. He remained in said slumber until Aphmau… respawned. When this happened, it sent a shock wave of magick throughout Ru’Aun. All mystic beings felt it. And that very wave woke him.
When his soul woke, he was confused and scared. He couldn’t remember what happened, where he was, why he was all alone in this dark and decrepit castle, or why he couldn’t leave. Over time, his memories returned to him, slowly but surely.
After some time, he realized that though he couldn’t leave the castle grounds, he could move the castle. And so he began moving it all throughout Ru’Aun in search for his parents. Only, he had no clue that 900 years had passed.
When Dante, Aphmau, Garroth, Laurance, and Eseryt come to his castle, he torments them with nightmares. Not because he wants to or thinks it funny, but because he doesn’t know them and it scared. Dante sees visions of Gene killing him once and for all, Aphmau sees Phoenix Drop burning to the ground, Garroth sees a wedding chapel and a woman who’s face is blurred and uncanny, and Laurance sees the Nether in all it’s fiery glory. And Eseryt? Well seeing as she possesses mind magicks too, Malachi can’t see her fears. But that also means Eseryt can’t feel his feelings.
Eventually Eseryt is able to show Malachi that they mean no harm and he lets the others go. When they try to speak to him, they realize that he only speaks old Ru’Aunian. But lucky for them, Aphmau knows it (for some reason *wink wink*) and Laurance learned some in the Nether. And when they get back to Phoenix Drop? Well Zoey knows it too! This is why he developed such and close bond to these three, they’re the only people he could talk to for a while.
Eventually, Zoey manages to teach him new Ru’Aunian, with the “help” of Aphmau and Laurance.
The green scarf he wears was a gift from Laurance after he regained his mortality. Malachi could not stop shivering in the middle of July, so Laurance gave him his scarf to keep him warm. He knows to some degree what it’s like to come back to life, after all. Another reason the two are so close.
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lqveharrington · 1 month
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If Only | L.M.
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summary: You and Lucifer were bond through the soulmate system, but how could you be soulmates when he had Lilith?
pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x fallen seraphim!reader
includes: kinda soulmate au? fluff, angst, mentions of death, lucifer feeling like a bad parent (that’s pretty much it, let me know if i missed any!)
a/n: i wrote this at night the other day. toward the very end i was very proud of what i wrote 😭🙏 time for my requests i’ve gotten !!!
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Ever since Lilith left Lucifer seven years ago, he never expected to meet another who made his heart soar. He fell into a deep state of depression and only started to get out more when Charlie invited him to stay at the hotel after the latest extermination. He got his own royal suite and joined in on Charlie’s lessons, but it still wasn’t enough to keep up with his daughter’s upbeat attitude every day.
It wasn’t enough to help pull him out of his depression until you came along to the hotel.
The moment you stepped into the hotel and greeted Charlie with the same enthusiasm made him smile. It was just another plus that you were a fallen angel, more so a fallen seraphim. And he swore that when you first met his gaze for that split second your eyes glowed pink as he felt his eyes do the same. He thought that would never happen again, but here he stood with an adoring face while you spoke to his daughter like you’ve known her since she was a child.
Soon enough, you and Lucifer were introduced to one another properly, the pink glow in both your eyes returning.
“It’s nice to meet the head man himself.” You grin as he kisses the back of your hand. “And such a gentleman as well.”
“What can I say? I’m quite the ladies' man.” He winked as he saw you burn bright.
As months passed since your first official interaction, you and Lucifer grew closer, bonding on your similar and different experiences. Whether you bonded over one of Charlie’s redemption activities or relaxed in his suite, you both found contentment in each other, letting each other enjoy the company.
“You know, I’m not going to relax when you keep tugging my book away.” You grab his wrist as he reaches for the book for the nth time in thirty minutes. “I’m going to leave your room.”
“Please don’t.” He tugged you closer to his side, head resting on your shoulder. “I don’t want to move from this spot again.”
You tilt your head toward him, eyes glowing a faint pink. “Then let me read.” You let a small smile slip through when he grumbled an incoherent sentence.
Lucifer’s eyes softened when you returned to read your book, watching your eyes scan the words in front of you. His mind and heart racing a million miles per hour whenever you were around. He couldn’t decide what was right. Was his heart telling him to move on? Or was it just aching to be affectionate with another?
The signs were pointing in different ways, but surely the answer was right in front of him. He just had to understand what it was before the magic between you two would fully disappear.
“Staring is highly distracting, Luce.” Your eyes flit up to meet him again. “I can’t focus.”
“You must really like me then.” He gave you a cocky grin
You roll your eyes, shutting the book. “You’ve ruined the book for me. I’m never going to finish that book now.”
“That book wasn’t good anyways.” He brought the comforter up and over the both of you. He locked his arms around your waist, pulling your back to his front. You felt yourself loosen up by his touch, letting out a small breath of exhaustion. “I’m spent after all the bonding activities today, beautiful. I think we can skip our kitchen run tonight and just go to bed.”
“Were you really waiting for me to finish reading so we could sleep?” You murmur as you feel him nod. You let out a small laugh, “Wow, I would have never stooped so low.”
Lucifer shushed you, “I’m sleeping, good night.”
A soft smile takes over your burning face, turning in his arms to face him. “Good night, Luce.”
He didn’t say anything else but quietly played with your hair, listening to your steady breathing as sleep consumed you. Lucifer always made sure you fell asleep first, wanting you to get a good night's sleep before he did. Yet, he didn’t exactly know when you both went from friends to whatever this was, but he wasn’t complaining if he got to see you sleep in his arms every once in a while.
And it wasn’t like Lucifer was the only one to notice your unusual relationship with one another. You noticed it as well. From the soft touches to the sleepovers at his suite, you knew it was more than just a simple friendship. But what could you do when he still wore his wedding ring?
“What’s happening?” You lay your legs across Lucifer’s lap, taking a glance at the news channel cast upon his suite’s television.
Lucifer rubbed your calf, golden ring a cold contrast to his warm fingers. “They’re interviewing Charlie for her hotel. They know how the extermination happened this year, so I’m hoping the questions are more targeted toward how her hotel will work than how it was fighting angels.”
You frown at the feel of his ring, even more so when he mentions the death of angels. “What happened the last time they interviewed her?”
He scoffed, “They were so rude to her. I mean, I understand we’re in Hell, but she’s their fucking princess. They only brought down her ideas, not asking enough about how she intends to accomplish redemption. I wish I could have done something back then, you know? Show them why I’m the King of Hell.”
You reach across to link a hand with his, giving him a small smile when he meets your glowing pink eyes that match his pair. “Luce, you’re a wonderful parent. I know you want to protect your daughter, but it’s in the past. She knows you love her and look at you two now! You’re supporting her dreams and whatever lies in store for them.”
“Thank you…” He felt the golden ring become heavy on his finger, an uncomfortable weight that was never there appearing. “You’re not half bad of a parent yourself.”
“What?” You let out a confused laugh, thumbing his hand. “I’m not anyone’s parent.”
“Yeah, but—“ He gestured toward the television where they switched the camera toward Charlie before switching to a quick commercial break. “—You've been more of a mother to Charlie than her biological mother in one year. The second you stepped into this hotel, she lit up around you.” His downturned smile grew bigger when you tilted your head. “Charlie may be a very trusting person, but she knows when someone is going to support her with anything she accomplishes. You were one of those people.”
You feel yourself warm at the small confrontation, “I’m sure she thinks of me as any other resident at the hotel, Luce. Don’t boost my ego, you have enough for the both of us.”
“Hey now.” He squeezed your leg. “I’m being nice, and you’re just hurling insults at my face.”
“Me? Never.”
He continued to rub a small pattern, thoughts running back and forth before turning back to you. “I’m serious though. She really loves you… Almost as much as I do.”
Your eyes widened, meeting his eyes that were now glowing a much brighter pink than usual. “You… I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I admire you a lot, beautiful.” He confessed, confidence boosting his voice. “Ever since I laid my eyes on you, and not just because of your looks. You handled Charlie better than I did in the last seven years, and I couldn’t ask for a better person to let her be herself when I’m not around.”
Your eyes glowed brighter at his words, squeezing his hand. “Lucifer, I admire you as much as you love Charlie, but it’s a matter of soulmates versus those of the past.” You gesture toward his ring, pursing your lips at the sight. “Are you sure you’re truly ready to move on? From the entire time I’ve known you, you’ve never taken that ring off.”
“I’m sure.” He let his hand holding yours drift up to cradle your cheek, snapping his finger to get rid of the ring and away in his back drawer. “She’s left me for almost a whole decade, I think I have the permission to move on.”
You melt into his hand, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. “If it’s what you really want, Luce.”
“It is.” He left a small kiss at your temple. “Because I know you’ll still be with me when all of Hell falls apart and all my magic is gone.”
“You’re so cheesy.” You lean back on the couch, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “Will you officially be mine, Lucifer Morningstar?”
“Always, beautiful.” He kept your hands linked as he pressed a promise kiss to your ring finger. “Always.”
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cupid-styles · 4 months
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a day in the life (ymls)
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it's been awhile since I've posted anything about these cuties so here's a lil blurb!!!!! hope you enjoy :)
word count: 1.3k
content warnings: family stuff, y/n is no longer pregnant BUT there's discussions of her pregnancy, giving birth, and lactating/breastfeeding
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. . .
Y/N never asked Harry to live with her.
They never had a conversation about it, instead just deciding to go to her house after she and Clementine were released from the hospital because it would likely be easier to recover in her own space — all of her lactation gear was there, along with the three (3!) different pregnancy pillows Harry purchased for her throughout the duration of the pregnancy. 
But then he just never… left.
In hindsight, despite neither of them bringing it up, they both recognize that it’s a way past overdue discussion. Someone should’ve been like, “hey, I know we’ve only been dating for like four months or so and we’re having a baby together, but should we live in the same space, maybe? Just for ease of parenting and all that?”. 
Surprisingly, though, since Y/N very much appreciates her own room — she didn’t do well in college when she had a roommate in their dorm, and she’s very much an introvert that adores heading home at the end of the long day and simply being alone — she hasn’t completely hated Harry being around all the time. It’s the most that they’ve ever spent time together, a whopping three and a half weeks straight since Clementine was born.
It’s a different kind of time, though, considering a newborn’s schedule is unlike anything else. They alternate between who gets to nap during the day and while Y/N is technically cleared for recovery, she still aches like… well, like she pushed an entire body through her. (Even when she tears up looking at Clementine nearly every day, she still shudders at the thought of giving birth. Harry called it the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and she sincerely wonders if he’s mentally well.) 
And somehow, they’ve developed a schedule that works quite well, for now at least. Clementine, their sweet little baby girl, is a decent sleeper. Per all those parenting books Harry obsessed over for nine months, she spends most of her time sleeping, with multiple feeding times throughout the day and night.
When Harry and Y/N both manage to be awake and conscious during the day, they hover over her bassinet — well, formerly in Y/N’s room, but now it seems to be Y/N’s plus Harry’s room? — quietly leaning in to make sure she’s breathing okay, admiring her cute little face, and taking pictures of the adorable onesies Harry puts her in. They have visitors, of course, including both pairs of their parents, siblings, and mutual friends. There’s a lot of crying and smiling and, oddly enough, entertaining, which is silly considering they’re still brand new parents who are working off of two- or three-hour incremental naps. 
In terms of their dynamic, things shift slightly, but Y/N is still the grump Harry adores. She’s exhausted, understandably so. The whole breastfeeding thing wreaks havoc on her body and Clementine doesn’t love it, so she tries her best to regularly pump milk for her, but she hates sitting on the couch, asking Harry to turn on some stupid reality show to distract her, and feeling the machine push and prod at her breasts. 
“This makes me feel like a cow,” she’d huffed the first time they did it, and it made Harry snort so loud he had to excuse himself from the room. 
But Harry… he’s good, even if it’s difficult for Y/N to properly communicate that to him. She knows she got very lucky with him, not just from a partnership standpoint — which, that’s an entirely different conversation that they haven’t gotten to yet — but a parenting one, too. He has no reason to get up with her at 3 am because Clem’s doing her sweet little lamb cries from the corner of their bedroom. Y/N can very easily escape to the room she designated as her nursery months back, where there’s a comfy nursing chair her mother bought her, but instead Harry’s up before Y/N’s eyes are even properly open, gently placing her in her arms and pushing a warm bottle into her hand.
He insists on helping her with every feeding, taking on more diaper changes than Y/N, and even doing his best to take care of her along the way. He helps her into the bath when her bones and joints are too achy to stand in the shower, he never complains about cooking them dinner (if Y/N orders food one more time, she thinks her bank will call her and ask if she’s been taken hostage by one of those ordering apps), and, even with her heightened hormones and emotions, she does indeed cry helplessly, salty tears leaking onto her daughter’s forehead when Harry comes home one day with a bouquet of flowers, a tidy note in the front that says “for my girls”. 
It makes him laugh so hard, the sight of his cranky girl in her milk-stained robe standing in the kitchen, gently rocking Clementine as she holds the pretty stems. 
“Why are you laughing?” Y/N sniffs, lifting her hand to quickly wipe tears away from her cheeks. 
“Because you just look so cute right now,” he says with a grin. He takes the flowers back from her, murmuring out something about putting them in a vase. 
“Sometimes I do wonder if you’re certifiably insane.” Y/N mutters, partially to herself. When she glances down at a milk drunk Clem, a smile quirks at the edges of her lips. “What do you think, Clemmie? Is dada crazy?”
Harry knows that this isn’t the traditional family he dreamed about, that having a baby with Y/N was a risk he was only willing to take because he always wanted to be a dad — but shit, he’s so happy. 
(Y/N is, too. She’s over the moon, with the way gratitude feels like it fills up her body in a way she’s never experienced before. And she knows she’s awful at expressing her feelings, but when she glances back up at Harry, eyes twinkling with a healthy blush over her cheeks and a smile on her lips, he knows. He just knows.)
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ceijoh · 2 years
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title: holy ground
summary: in which miya atsumu is completely in love with you and you find that very hard to believe. 
word count: 3.2k+
warnings/contents: angst, fluff, humour 
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Miya Atsumu has always been a stubborn man. He was stubborn in his opinions, and feelings, and contrary to the popular belief that he flies through people romantically -that was not the case. 
He’s only ever had two major loves in his life, the first being the girl in the cereal commercial when he was a kid. Atsumu was dead set on marrying her and living on a dairy farm, and plus free cereal for life. It wasn’t until he found out that she wasn’t real -courtesy of Osamu- that he refused to believe in love. 
He’s had crushes and flings, sure, especially in high school, the majority of people do. However, he was too busy trying to win Nationals and be the best setter in Japan that romantic relationships often took the third or fourth spot in his priority list. 
Then he met you. It was raining, Atsumu remembers meeting you. You coming in, rushing into the training centre, while you handed off a bento box to his personal trainer. Watching from  the ground he was sitting on, watching as you turned, almost slipping on the floor because of your wet shoes, and Atsumu rushing over to help you before anyone could. 
Looking down at your wide eyes, your mouth parted in shock and the sheepish smile that soon took over, until he said, “Oi, watch where yer goin’, could have damaged the floor wit’ that face.” 
At the scowl on your face, and a clever comeback on your lips, he decided right then and there that you were the only person that was going to be in his heart. You were the only person that he wanted to love, and he wanted to prove it to you. 
What Atsumu didn’t know was that loving you was quite a challenge. He was expecting you to put up a little fight, but ultimately after a couple of weeks, you would fall into his arms and you would start your happy ever after. Because that’s how the greatest love stories go, right? 
It wasn’t easy for Atsumu, it turns out you were more closed off to the idea of love than he thought. Having been burnt from past lovers, and not really having your parents as good relationship models obscured what your idea of love was. 
You told him that you weren’t ready for a relationship, not after your last ex. The pain and games he put you through wasn’t worth the bits and pieces of affection that he gave you. You needed to take time to work on yourself, to find out who you really were before starting a relationship. 
Plus, you weren’t over your ex, as much of an asshole as he was, he still had a place in your heart, and while Atsumu was starting to slowly creep in, you refused to start something with him while your heart wasn’t fully committed to one person. As much as you have started to fall for Atsumu, you just couldn’t do that to him. 
Atsumu knew all of this. He knew he had his shortcomings. He knew that he was impatient when it came to things, but with you? He would wait a million years if he had to. 
He remembers the conversation he had with you when he first declared that he loved you, and you said that he was being stupid. Which he probably was, because it was months into being friends with you.
 “I’m in love with you,” Atsumu blurted out as you sat down next to him. You slowly passed the bag of takoyaki to him. 
“Well, I know that I did you a favour by bringing the best takoyaki Osaka can offer but I didn’t realise it will bring such a strong reaction,” you jested as you willed your heartbeat to slow down. 
“I’m being serious,” you knew that he was. From the moment he finished his sentence, you would have placed all your money that this moment was the most serious moment in Atsumu’s life. 
“‘Tsum, we’ve talked about this,” you turned to face the ground, unable to look at the distraught or angry look on his face. “I can’t. Not yet.” 
“I never said that I wanted us to be in a relationship,” Atsumu smiled at you fondly, not that you could see it. Placing the bag by his side, Atsumu slowly reached out for your hand that was now fiddling with the bottom of your top. “I just wanted ya to know,” he shrugged, as if the atomic bomb he just dropped was a mere raindrop. “I don’t mind waiting, if it’s for you.” 
“What happens if I ask you to wait forever?” 
“I’m a patient man.” 
“You’re one of the most impatient people I know.” 
“I can learn.” 
--
“I think, I think that I may want to start a relationship with him,” at the knowing glance of Tsukishima, you rolled your eyes. 
“Wow, you’ve finally come to the conclusion that everyone has,” at the bluntness of his tone, you roughly shoved him. Looking at his watch, “It only took you long enough.” 
At the passing comment, you frowned. “Do you think I took too long?” 
Hearing the sincerity in your tone, Tsukishima’s smirk dropped a little, and briefly looked at Kuroo who just shrugged at him telling him silently ‘you fix it’. 
Tsukishima scoffed and rolled his eyes, “That man is wholly in love with you that it’s so fucking disgusting, anyone and everyone can see it. You could be fifty and he would still love you the same amount, possibly more.” 
--
Letting yourself through the door, you called out Atsumu’s name. Hyping yourself up mentally, you felt pretty good. You felt confident, and this was something that you’ve wanted to do for a long time. You looked at your hands which were slightly shaking and you closed them tightly, swallowing the heartbeat in your mouth. 
Walking over to his couch, you briefly looked at the beautiful view that Atsumu’s apartment overlooked. It was absolutely breathtaking. Calling his name out again, you watched as he popped out from his bedroom, a bright smile on his face. 
Feeling your heart relax at the sight of him, you smiled largely. Before you could say anything, you heard another pair of footsteps, turning around to face the person, you couldn’t help but feel your heart drop to your stomach. 
You’ve seen this before, you’ve felt this emotion before. Before, you would have cried and screamed and stormed out of his flat before he or she could say anything. But now? You felt frozen, numb and detached. It felt like you were watching the scene unfold in front of your eyes but you were not yourself. 
“Oh Atsumu-san, thank you for lending me your shirt,” a woman you’ve never seen before walks out of Atsumu’s kitchen, looking at the clothing that was now on her body. 
Finally noticing that Atsumu wasn’t wearing a shirt either, your brain connected the clues. Eyes roaming over his body, you couldn’t detect any love marks, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have them. 
Turning to you, Atsumu paled. No, fuck no. This was not happening. Pinching himself, he realised that this was in fact happening. “(Y/N), it’s not what you think.” 
“OH!” You yelped out, forcing yourself to calm down by clenching your first, you internally berated yourself. This was not the time to cry. “Oh, I’m so, sorry,” you rushed out your apologies, bowing profusely, already mentally and emotionally checking out of the place. You both gave them a tight lipped smile, “I’m just leaving, I’ll leave you two.” 
Rushing out the door, desperately trying to wipe away the tears before any of them saw, you ran to the elevator. Punching the key to make it go faster, you could hear Atsumu’s footsteps rushing out to catch up to you. 
Praying to every deity you could think of, you were finally blessed when you heard the familiar ding. Pushing the lobby, and forcing the doors to close, you kept your eyes down as you saw Atsumu rounding the corner before the door closed. 
Gasping and leaning on the wall, you let out a painful sob. You knew this was going to happen, eventually this was going to happen. It always did, so why did this kill you more than anything? If this was love, you didn’t want it. 
--
“(Y/L/N)-san,” the familiar voice of the waiter greeted. Looking at the clock and realising that it’s only been a couple of hours since he last saw you, “You’re back.” 
Shrugging and smiling at him, he led you to your favourite booth. Sitting down and telling him your order, with a few extra sides, you collapsed forward. Realising that this was the booth that you and Atsumu always sit in brought a new fresh set of tears. Your heart clenching, you tried to drink some water to try anything to distract you. 
You sat there in silence, not even bothering to look at your phone. You knew that Atsumu was calling you and texting you by the frequent vibrations. Maybe tomorrow when you’ve had a somewhat decent night's rest and food will make your head feel more balanced. 
“No Miya-san, today?” The waiter asked as he placed down the first couple of dishes. 
Looking up at him, you smiled politely, “He was preoccupied doing other things.” 
--
“I thought we made a promise that we’d never go here by ourselves?” 
Clenching your jaw, you refused to look at the man standing by the booth. And you promised to wait, jerk. 
You watched as Atsumu leaned back into the booth, grabbing his own chopsticks and picking up the dumpling you were about to eat. 
“Miya Atsumu,” you warned, giving him a glare. All he did was grin back at you and plop the dumpling in his mouth. Unaware that it was a soup dumpling, which earned you a front row seat to the MSBY star setter burning his mouth and panicking as the hot soup went all over his clothes. 
Glaring half-heartedly at your laughter, you handed him some napkins. “Serves you right for trying to eat my food.” 
“But ya love me,” gone was your smile and easiness. 
Once cooled down, Atsumu began to eat bits and pieces of your food. “Ya know, yer one of the smartest people I know,” he looked up at you after eating a piece of beef. “So why are yer so dumb right now?” 
Offended you scowled at him, “What the actual fuck, ‘Tsum?” 
Leaning back into his seat, playing with the placemat, “Why do ye think that I’d sleep with someone else when I told you that I love you?” 
Glancing away from his stare, you looked at the restaurant around you. It was dead quiet, and you could hear the quiet rain from outside. Shrugging, you took a sip of your drink. “I mean, it’s been so long I thought that maybe you would have been done waiting. I wouldn’t fault you for sleeping or wanting to sleep with someone else.” 
It hurt to say those words to Atsumu because you hoped that he didn’t. While it was selfish of you to indirectly ask him to wait, you just wanted someone to wait for you, like all you've been doing all your life. 
Atsumu rolled his eyes and leaned forward, flicking your hand once -which earned another scowl, he looked at you. A part of you wanted to look away but something inside of you told you that you needed to look at him. 
“I told yer, and I’ll gladly tell you again, that I’ll wait for you,” he stated simply like you just asked him the weather. 
“But why?” 
Shrugging, “Because I love you. Yer it for me, no one else. If I have to wait another year, or ten years, I’ll do so.” 
“But why?” 
“Do ya want a list?” he arched his brow and when you didn’t respond, he shrugged, and paid complete attention to you. “First, you make me laugh. With yer stupid dad jokes that ya tell all the time, the weird tiktoks that you send me at 2 in the morning, or yer goofy lil’ habits,” struggling to keep eye contact with him, you looked down on the table. “Yer never fail to make me smile, especially on the rough days after losin’ a match, yer always there to bring a smile to ma face.” 
Tapping twice on the table, you watched as his fingers moved over to yours and started tapping on it, one, two, three, pause, one, two, three, pause. 
“Second, you support me. Ya’ve always had ma back even when I was the shittiest person to be around, do ya remember how many times I’ve snapped at ya when I was tryin’ out for a spot on the National team? After every snap, after every argument, or when I’ve left ya on read -not on purpose, by the way, you’ve always been there waitin’ for me. 
“Yer always the first person that I tell when I accomplish somethin’, (Y/N), because I know that when you say yer proud of me, I know ye mean it, yer not just sayin’ it.” Now leaning forward, he fully grasped your hand, he silently knocked your foot with his, a subtle gesture to make you look at him. 
“But yer also the first person I tell when I fail somethin’. I never liked talkin’ bout me failin’ anythin’, because,” shrugging Atsumu dropped his sentence. “The point is, I know yer still gonna see me as ‘Tsum because it doesn’t matter in yer eyes if I win or lose a match, because ye love me for me.” 
Putting up three fingers, “Third, your opinion -apart from Ma’s and ‘Samu’s but they don’t count- is really the only one I care ‘bout. Every time I do somethin’, I think ‘what would (Y/N) think of this?” 
“Fourth, ya make me feel complete. It’s like this thing inside of me, ya know? That I didn’t realise I wanted or needed until I met ya. Everytime I’m around ya it makes me happier, now don’t get me wrong, yer one of the most frustrating people I know but that makes me want to be around more.” 
Taking a deep breath, he finally held up all his fingers, and smiled softly at you. “Fifth, when I picture myself in the future, retired and just livin’ the life with Samu, ‘Kaashi and their kids, the person I see myself with, is you. Yer the only person I’ve ever imagined that with, I’ve tried and imagined it with other people to see, but it felt wrong, it felt like I was trying to fit ya know those wooden shape things into the wrong hole. I have plenty more, if ya want but those are the deeper ones that I know, if ya want the smaller stuff, I can do that too,” Atsumu spoke to you as if he just hadn’t redefined what being in love meant. 
You knew that deep in your heart, and thanks to both of your friends that Atsumu was in love with you. But this? This was everything and more. This was the movies you watched, the songs that you listened to, the stories you heard, the things your heart has longed for and more. Atsumu was more.   
Paying attention to Atsumu, you watched as he began pulling out his phone, “I made a list, do ya want to see?” He quickly tapped on his phone and his notes appeared, your eyes quickly scanned the list, a long list if the sidebar had anything to say, as Atsumu started listing off the smaller things, “Ye make those weird noises when you don’t think anyone is looking, ya talk to yourself a lot, ya cry at all of those animal videos.” 
Locking his phone before you barely got to the halfway point, Atsumu placed his phone on the table and took a deep breath, “But the reality of it is, I don’t care how long it takes for you to say ‘okay ‘Tsum, I’m ready’ because I’m always going to be here waitin’ for ya, maybe we’ll be type of couple where it takes a long time for us to get together, and yeah, there’ll be hiccups,” a small serene smile appeared on Atsumu’s face. He looked at you, like the many times he has before. It was the same fond look, the kind where it makes you feel warm and fuzzy. “But then, it’ll be perfect. You an’ me.”
Plopping the final dumpling in his mouth, he grinned at you while pointing his chopsticks, “Plus, when I sit down our kids’, it’ll be a hell of a story, don’t ya think?” 
Not being able to say anything, you picked up the extra set of chopsticks on the table and pushed the dumplings in the middle. Atsumu’s heart lightened as he saw your peace offering. Maybe one day he’ll tell you that this was the hardest moment in his life. 
--
“Come on,” he bent forward and you looked sceptically at him. When you didn’t hop on his back, he rolled his eyes. “We have to walk for like ten minutes to get to yer place, and yer wearing those shoes ya don’t like because it makes your feet hurt,” turning back around, “now hop on.” 
--
It was a Thursday night, yours and Atsumu’s Thursday nights. You were sitting on the kitchen counter as you watched him prepare the dinner he was excited to make. He was talking you through it; Osamu had one of the cooking shows in the background while Atsumu was over, and the dish caught his eye.  Watching him right now was something you knew you could do for the rest of your life. 
It’s funny really, for you, you thought it would be this giant explosion that hey! You’re in love! Or there would be this grand epiphany. But that never happened. Maybe it was slow at first, a slow burn that when the ember finally sparked into a forest fire you didn’t realise. Or maybe, it was always there. It was there when you first met Atsumu all those years ago, him helping you and then insulting you.
“Hey, ‘Tsum,” you watched him turn around. You thought that your heart would be beating so hard that it would be flying out of your chest, but this was the most calm you’ve ever been around him. Tilting your head, you smiled at him and he knew. 
“I just wanted to tell you that I love you,” you spoke softly. There was everything in those words that you just spoke, and from all the times you thought it would be the hardest thing to say, it was somehow the easiest and truest thing you’ve ever spoken. 
Grinning, you saw his eyes tear up before coughing to hide it. “Yeah?” Walking over to you slowly, fearing that it was one of the many dreams that he’s had before. Finally reaching you, he hesitantly reached out, hands shaking. 
“Yeah,” pulling him into your arms and breathing in the familiar scent you’ve now come to realise was home, you whispered the words that made Atsumu feel whole, “I’m so in love with you Miya Atsumu.” 
Miya Atsumu is a stubborn man, and you were thankful for that. 
‘...but i don't wanna dance, if i’m not dancing with you.’ 
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let me know what you think! :) 
-e
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foxglovebells · 1 year
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The Winter Writer
Azriel x Reader
Summary: One day Mor brings her best friend to the house of wind for game night with the inner circle. Azriel takes immediate interest, as well as Nesta, Feyre, and Gwyn when they find out she’s the author to their favorite smutty romances.
Warnings: None
Notes: My first fic! This is just the first part and there will me much more to come (😏)
****************************************************
“They’re going to love you” Mor squeals excitedly as she finishes up your makeup. “You have no idea.”
You and Mor had been best friends for centuries. You both knew absolutely everything about each other. Even after all these years you had still never met her family. Though, you weren’t very adamant on pushing it because they made you very nervous. She didn’t want them to scare you away, she had said, when you brought them up once.
You take a deep breath to gather your nerves before replying, “I don’t know Mor, I feel like I’m intruding on your inner circle.” You look up at her from where you’re sitting on the vanity in your apartment. Mor stands and looks down on you as she roles her eyes.
“I don’t think anyone could hate you, you’re like the most likable person I’ve ever met, and trust me, I’ve been alive for a long time.”
You moved to Velaris from the winter court half a century ago. Mor had said she would feel more secure knowing that her best friend was safe and not being caught up in the Amarantha drama. Having parents that had high positions in the Winter court put you too close to danger for Mor’s liking.
While you had never met the inner circle, you had heard almost everything about each one of them. Rhysand was the almighty, powerful high lord who had the biggest soft spot for everyone he loved and cared about. Feyre was kind, selfless, and had a touch for art. Cassian was an Illyrian who was cocky and funny but also gave the best hugs. Amren was a little scary and fierce, but she would always stand up and fight for her friends. Nesta was a tough shell to crack, but she still managed to be the best to talk to when you need advice. Elain was quiet but kind and nurturing. And Azriel, oh Azriel, you had never met him, but Mor always described him as silent, observant, kind, and so many more things. Was it possible to have a crush on someone you’d never met? You based a couple of your book characters on what you had heard of him. Of course, he could be completely different than what you imagined, in that case, you would be severely disappointed.
But even having heard all these things, you’ve yet to meet a single one of them, and because of this you were freaking the fuck out.
“I promise, hun.” She places her hands on either side of your face and looks straight into your eyes, “Plus, I know for a fact that the girls will like you. They have a little book club that has read every single one of your books.” A mischievous expression takes over her face.
“No way, Mor.” Your eyes widen. “You didn’t tell me they’ve read my books.” You shoot up from the vanity chair and pace through the room with your hands twirling a piece of hair to occupy yourself. “Cauldron, Mor, that would have been nice to know.”
Mor throws her head back in laughter, “They haven’t just read them darling, you’re a common talk amongst the library, you’re their favorite.” She walks up and boops you on the nose, you swat her hand away. “Nesta and Feyre are always talking about how sexy they are, I’ve even seen Amren reading one from time to time.”
“Is it too late to back out now?” You sigh in exasperation.
“Even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t let you.”
You glare at her, “I know.”
“Come on, sugar plum, we gotta get going.” Before you can protest she takes your hand and winnows you out of your apartment.
***
“Do we even know if she’s real?” Cassian mutters as he nurses a glass of whiskey. “I mean, Mor said she’s lived here for nearly 50 years—and been friends with her for longer—but we’ve never met her.”
“Probably because she didn’t want your horny ass to hit on her.” Azriel buts in as Rhys lets out a laugh in agreement.
“Your not much better, brother.” Cassian shoots him an amused glare but it’s ignored as Az takes a sip from his glass.
“I can’t say I’m not curious, though.” Rhys starts, “Mor said she was trustworthy enough to know about Velaris, and that she knew her for centuries before she moved here.”
“And yet we’ve never met her and when ever she comes up Mor shuts the subject down.” Cassian replies.
It did make Azriel wonder, he could send his shadows to get information on her, but she’s coming tonight so he might as well just wait and ask her—like a normal person.
All at once the 3 brothers perked up as soon and the felt someone winnow into the house.
“Guess it’s time to finally meet the mystery girl.” Rhys says before sauntering off and going to the main living area where the girls were already there drinking wine and gossiping about the latest book by their favorite author—Y/n Y/l/n.
***
When they enter the room Feyre, Nesta, Elain, Gwyn, and Emerie are all sitting in front of the fire, drinking wine and giggling quietly.
“Where’s Nyx, darling?” Was the first thing Rhys asks as he makes his way to Feyre’s side and places a loving kiss on her cheek.
Azriel always envied their mating bond, Cassian’s too. He had waited so long to feel the love of a mate, but he would wait as long as it took. He often tried to occupy his heart with harmless relationships to fill the void that hopefully would one day be filled with his mate. But even after centuries of waiting he had yet to even suspect someone. It made him insecure sometimes, how could anyone love someone as scared and broken as him? So to refrain from thinking these thoughts he buried himself into other activities, spying, reading, training. Anything that could take his mind off of the restless thoughts that invaded his brain.
“He ran off to greet Mor.” She replied while leaning into his kiss.
All the males looked slightly of put as they recalled the new unknown guest around around Nyx. Rhys stood straight and was about to go seek them out when they heard the sound of footsteps making their way towards them from the hall.
They all stood and watched as Mor entered the room followed by someone who was still out of view behind Mor.
Mor moved to the side and revealed the most beautiful female Azriel had even seen in his life. You were wearing a silky slip style dress in a deep midnight blue, it contrasted beautifully to the long white waves cascading down to your waist. Winter court, Azriel thought. What caught his attention the most was the small Illyrian at your side with his hand in yours.
“Daddy I found a girl!” Nyx shouts as he tries to drag you towards his father.
You have a small nervous smile on your face and you allow yourself to be dragged towards Rhysand.
“Nyx!” Feyre shoots up from her seat on the chaise and rushes over to snatch up Nyx, releasing your hand in the process. “I’m so sorry.” She says turning to you.
Mor makes her way back up to your side and you look over to her for reassurance. She nods at you and you look back to Feyre with a sweet smile. “That’s all right, nothing to be sorry about” you reply. “I’m Y/n, you must be Feyre.” Rhysand takes Nyx out of his mates arms and you hold out your hand to shake hers. She shakes her head at your hand and instead wraps her arms around you in a hug. You freeze slightly in surprise but quickly relax and return the hug.
“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Y/n. Mor is awfully protective.” Feyre sends a playful glare to your best friend and she returns it with a sheepish smile. You simply laugh at the exchange.
Mor takes your arm and walks you to the seating area and you take a seat on an armchair close to the fire.
“Y/n,” Mor starts, “This is Nesta, Elain, Gwyn, Emerie and you’ve already met Feyre.” She takes her time pointing to each female around the room. Gwyn and Nesta are sat beside each other on a two seater lounge while Elain sits on the arm chair across from you. Mor walks over to Emerie and lays a hand on her shoulder. You try to hide your smirk behind your hand as you glance between the two of them. The look she gives you is a mix between shut the fuck up and she’s hot isn’t she. It became clear to you that her family doesn’t know about her sexually orientation, that became more clear when you caught the confusion in the eyes of a couple of the others.
“Anyway,” she claps her hands together and walks back to where Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel were standing. “This is Rhysand—“
“Call me Rhys, please, any friend of Mor’s is a friends of mine.” You smile at him before Mor continues.
“Then my most favorite nephew, Nyx, whom you’ve already met.” She walks up and pinched the little boys cheeks, who squirms in his dads arms, resulting in him putting Nyx down. Nyx does something no one expects—especially not you—when he runs up to you, climbs onto your chair, and settles into your lap as if nothing was wrong in the world. Every one stares in shock while you just let it has happen, chuckling slightly.
Azriel watches you along with everyone else, but the thought churning in his mind aren’t ones that revolve around Nyx, no, the only thing he can think about is how, beautiful and sweet you are, he might not be able to forgive Mor for keeping you from him. Of course, not literally, but he had never felt to drawn to someone, especially not someone he had never met in his life.
“Sorry.” You say with a small laugh. “Is he normally this friendly?” You look up to see Feyre snickering and Rhys shaking his head in amusement. Mor just looks as if she’s having a proud mother moment.
“Not usually, but he doesn’t meet new people often.” Rhys supplies. “But if he’s bothering you feel free to tell us, we won’t be offended.”
“Oh no, he’s perfect.” You look to the little boy in your lap who’s the split image of his father. His big violet eyes are looking up at you as you smile down at him.
You remember that you hadn’t been introduced to everyone yet. “And I’m guessing these two are Cassian and Azriel.” You gesture to each of them.
Cassian beamed at you, “The one and only, nice to meet you Y/n.”
“You too, Cassian.”
Azriel kept silent but he gave you a forced tight lipped smile, that made your stomach drop a little. He didn’t like you, you concluded.
You looked over to Mor who noticed the interaction and noticed that slightly devastated look on your face. She was quick to change the subject.
“Nice going, asshole.” Cassian says to Azriel out of your ear shot, “She thinks you hate her.”
“What?” Azriel heart sinks, “Why would she think that?” He could never hate you, he knew it the minute he saw you. He wanted to talk to you but he didn’t know what to say.
“You gave her the same obviously fake smile that you give every female that any of us try to set you up with.” Cassian sends him a looks that screams could you be any more oblivious, “Didn’t you see her smile drop slightly and her look to Mor for reassurance?”
No, he did not, and now he feels like a dick. “I didn’t mean too.” He replies solemnly.
“Y/n’s from the winter court. We became friends the first time a visited when I was a child.” Mor smiled at you cheekily before continuing, “I wanted her to move here a few decades ago—“
“—because you’re like an overprotective mother hen.” You cut her off with a laugh but she shushes you playfully.
“No,” she asserts firmly with a glare in your direction, “Well, yes I guess a little.” The group around you laughs.
“If she’s lived here for decades why have we never met her?” Cassian asks and Mor roles her eyes at the questions.
“Did you not hear Y/n, Cass, protective mother hen.” She gestures to herself while you along with everyone else smiles at the interaction. “She needed protecting from the like of you, all of you and your corrupt sense of humor. Now, drinks.”
“Ugh, Yes please” and other mutters of agreement are heard from all around. Rhysand snaps his fingers and wine appears atop the coffee table at the center of the seating.
Elain pours you a glass and hands it to you, you smile gratefully. Nyx has since fallen asleep on your lap, his face tucked into your neck and you run your hand over his head while paying attention to conversation around you.
“So Y/n, you want to tell everyone what you do for a living?” Mor says, bringing everyone’s attention to you once more, though, you couldn’t help but notice that one particular person attention had been on you the whole time.
You glare at Mor, a real glare this time, no playfulness in your stare. “Morrigan, what did we talk about.” You say to her while everyone listens with interest. She doesn’t reply, but instead hold your stare with a challenging look. Eventually giving up you cave. “I’m an author.”
“I expected something completely different from the way you two were looking at each other.” Nesta laughs as she finished her glass of wine.
“Me too.” Pipes Gwyn who was sitting on the lounge where Feyre had once been. Feyre was now curled up in the lap of the high lord. “Are you published.”
“Um—” you hesitate.
“Yes, she is.” Mor states simply once she’s decided that you’re taking far to long to answer such an easy question.
“Do you think we’d know any?” Gwyn asks curiously. “The girls and I are in a book club, I’m sure we’ve had to at least heard of it.”
“Oh I write under pseudonym, you probably haven’t heard of me.” You attempt to laugh it off, but Nesta and Gwyn seem keen on getting the answer out of you.
“Try us.” Nesta pushes.
“Sellyn Drake.” You say quietly with a slight embarrassed chuckle. Please tell me they haven’t read my books, please, please, ple—
“Fucking shit!” Nesta shoots up, her refilled glass of wine spilling over the lip of the glass. Every female in the room seems to sit up, even Feyre from where she was comfortably tucked into Rhysand.
“You’re kidding, right?” Gwyn shrieks with an excited smile on her face.
“You’ve heard of me?” You say sheepishly.
“Heard of you!” Nesta snaps her fingers and every single book that you’ve ever published appears directly in front of you. You reach for a book, trying not to jostle the sleeping Illyrian in your arms. Opening the book you’re surprised to see annotations on every page, highlighted words and thoughts fill each blank space.
“Um wow, I didn’t expect this.” You laugh as you flip through the pages coming across and especially spicy scene before slamming the book shut and placing it back on the pile.
“Would it be weird if I asked you to sign them?”
“Not at all, how about we meet for coffee sometime, I can even bring the manuscript for my next book, I’ve been looking for some insight on it.” You suggest, a little bit nervous that she might turn you down.
“Holy shit, of course!” She looks over to Feyre, Gwyn, and Emerie. “You know what? What do you think about coming to our next book club meeting?”
You return her excitement at that, “That sounds perfect.”
Nesta excitedly goes to Cassian and plops in his lap. His arms wrap around her waist and kisses her neck.
“You’re the smutty romance author, eh.” Cassian guesses in response to his mates excitement.
Your face burns red and you attempt to hide it by looking away. Azriel watched the exchange with a barely there smirk on his face. Ah maybe he could use that as a conversation starter, he thought. He would only have to get you alone first. He observed that you weren’t to comfortable talking about your occupation in a large group like this with new people. Though, he didn’t understand why an extremely successful author wouldn’t want to flaunt her talents.
“Y/n?” Starts Rhys. “Are you comfortable talking about your family?” He didn’t want to pry, but he was curious, something about you was just so familiar.
“Oh, of course.” You loved your family dearly and enjoyed any excuse to talk about them, especially your sister. “My sister is the lady of the winter court.”
“Viviane?” Feyre asks and you nod in response.
“Yes, we’re fraternal twins.” You smile as you think about your twin sister who was such a talented warrior.
“She’s amazing, and so is my niece, Seely, who was born 3 years ago, about the same age as Nyx actually.” You gesture to the sleeping form wrapped in your arms.
“I hadn’t realized you had such useful connections—” Rhys starts.
“—No.” Mor cuts him off before he can continue. “You are not using my best friend for a winter court alliance. You want an alliance, figure out how to get it without using her as pawn.”
Rhys looked apologetic, “She’s right, I apologize Y/n.”
“No harm done, if it’s any reassurance Kallias and Vivian are rather fond of your inner circle. I’m sure if you ever did want an alliance you wouldn’t have trouble achieving it, with or without my assistance.” You reply, you truly didn’t mind, you actually found it quite comforting that he was willing to talk politics with you, even if it was an odd situation to do so.
A new voice speaks up, surprising everyone in the room. “So you can fight?” Azriel kicks off from his place in the shadows against the wall, finally stepping into the light of the fire and taking the empty seat to your left.
“What do you mean?” You ask him to specify.
“We’ll Viviane is a highly trained warrior, and I’ve seen how well trained the winter court army is. I was wondering if you were trained similarly.”
“Yes, Viviane and I were trained by our father from the moment we could walk.” You smile in remembrance, your father was such a good teacher and was kind and gave you advice on how to improve rather than yelling. Many of your favorite memories were training beside him and your sister. “It’s been several years though, I probably a bit rusty.”
“I could always help.” He rushes out, as if he didn’t really mean to say that. He clears his throat. “I mean, if you ever wanted to train again I would be happy to be your partner.” Azriel cursed himself for not controlling his words, he hoped you wouldn’t turn him down.
“I would love that Azriel, thank you.” You smile widely at him and you look back to the group.
Feyre stands up and begins to make her way towards you. “As much fun as this has been I really need to get Nyx into his bed.”
“Of course, do you want to take him or I would be happy to walk up with you so he doesn’t wake.” You offer, cradling Nyx against your chest in preparation for her answer.
“That would be amazing, Y/n.” She smiles graciously at you. You stand from the comfy armchair and follow Feyre out of the room and through a series of hallways. She comes to a bedroom and you both go in and put Nyx to bed. “I’ve never seen him act so attached to someone new before. He really likes you.”
“I’m glad, I really like him too.” You both make your way back to the sitting room as you yawn.
“I’ve had so much fun, but I really should get going before I become too tired to winnow home.” You stay standing up instead of sitting back down. You were sure that if you sat back down you would surely fall asleep.
“Stay the night, please.” Rhys offers, “you could join us tomorrow for breakfast and training.”
“And a book club meeting, the girls and I have one in the library tomorrow.” Nesta adds while each of the girls agrees.
“I don’t know,” you start to reply “I don’t want to intrude—”
“Y/n! How many times do I have to repeat myself before you process it in you thick skull.” Mor throws her hand up, exasperated. “You. Are. Not. Intruding.”
You fidget with a strand of your snowy white hair before replying. “Just because you feel that way doesn’t mean the others do. You’re biased Mor.”
“Oh Mother.” She pinches the bridge of her nose as if you are a insulant child.
“If you fear that you are intruding I can guarantee that you are not.” Feyre tells you kindly, a much kinder approach than Mor’s.
You’re still hesitant, but you make up your mind. “Alright, I guess I’ll stay.”
Everyone looks content with your response. But it’s Nesta who’s the first to talk. “Perfect. Training starts at sunrise.”
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malum-forev · 11 months
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Hi, for the bingo thingy, can you use “Can you stay?” for a chapter 3 of the Co-parenting ex husband Bucky fic? 😜🙈 (if you turn that into a sad ending again, I’ll ugly cry. 😅😘)
the wait is finally oveeerrr. I didn't expect to write this but it quickly turned into my favorite piece! Thank you for the love (especially after I wrote two sad parts loooolll)
Here it is! and you can find Pt 1 Here and Pt 2 here!
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*Gif by @rainbowkisses31
(Y/n) crossed her arms and leaned her head back on the wall, waiting for the principal’s door to open. She couldn’t believe this, Peanut was in kindergarten for fucks sake! How was the principal already calling her in. A couple of teachers had given (Y/n) a heads up, to control the situation before it exploded. 
So, a week ago (Y/n) and Bucky had to have the talk with their five-year-old daughter. Not the birds and the bees, the whole: Your dad is an ex-assassin called the Winter Soldier, he was actually born in 1917 and the whole vibranium arm thing. 
Bucky sat Peanut in front of them. “P, I’m going to tell you something but you have to pay attention okay?”
Her big blue eyes turned into marbles and she nodded her head. 
“You didn’t do anything wrong baby,” (Y/n) assured. “We just need to talk about something that happened to Daddy because we want you to know it from us okay?”
“Where do I begin?” Bucky sighed, he never thought the most difficult person to explain this to would be a child. His child. Bucky never thought he would be able to have a child in the first place. He felt (Y/n)’s hand rub circles on his back and he relaxed into her touch. 
Bucky had warned her about this, how the Winter Soldier would always shadow him. Looming in the darkness. But (Y/n) had said she didn’t care, that their children together would understand what happened and the rest of the world can process it however they wanted to. And here she was, carrying out her end of the deal. 
“I was born a long time ago Peanut.” Bucky started.
P bursted into laughter. “I know that, silly goose. You have white hair! Like the pictures you show me of Uncle Stevie!”
(Y/n) bit the inside of her cheek to hide her laugh but she ended up having to hide behind Bucky as to not incite their daughter’s roasts.
“This is going well.” Bucky muttered.
“You don’t look like Steve, I promise.” She assured, running her fingers through the short hair on the back of his head. “Plus, I like your hair like this. Salt and pepper suits you.” 
But now, a week later, the two of them were called into the principal’s office. The glass door opened. 
“Good morning, thank you for coming.” He told (Y/n). “Should we wait for Mr. Barnes?”
“He won’t be joining us today.” She said in automatic but as she was walking into the principal’s office, a huffing Bucky came into view.
“Sorry I’m late.” Bucky took a deep breath, taking off his leather jacket and placing it behind one of the two chairs in front of the principal’s desk. He took the chair next to him out for (Y/n) to sit in before sitting down himself. 
“I know the two of you are very busy but this issue with your daughter needs to be fixed.” The principal started. “As you know, we are a very private school and we can assure you we’re talking to Billy’s parents as well.”
“Yesterday, Billy told your daughter that he knew who her father was.” The principal continued, making Bucky look down at the floor. “Billy’s older brother told him and showed him some videos on the internet.”
(Y/n) grew angry. “If this is Billy’s fault, then why are we here. James and I talked to you before P came to this school and you assured us it wouldn’t be a problem. We spend a lot of money on this school for this to suddenly become a problem.”
“The problem is that after this, your daughter threatened Billy. She said,” The principal took a look at the paper in front of him, a teacher’s report. “If you know who my dad is then you know you shouldn’t talk to me like that. When I tell him about you, he will squish you with his metal arm.” 
(Y/n) jaw dropped. Oh my god. 
She turned around to look at Bucky but he didn’t have the reaction she wanted. He sat there with a smug smile on his face and his arms crossed. 
“She’s defending herself.” Bucky shrugged and (Y/n) covered her face with her hands.
“You can’t just say that!” She laughed, they decided to get some coffee after the meeting with P’s principal. 
“Why not?” Bucky smiled. “I’m not going to tell off P just because of that stupid kid Billy who by the way, I would squish with my arm.”
“Good to know you’d turn Winter Soldier at the blink of Peanut’s eyes.” She rolled her eyes. 
“She’s my little girl! What else am I supposed to do?” 
“Something along the lines of: Peanut you can’t threaten people.” (Y/n) said, she didn’t think she would have to be explaining why threatening people is wrong to a hundred-year-old man. 
“I’m not going to tell her not to defend herself.” Bucky said. “She’s gutsy and headstrong, P takes after her mother.”
(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “I’m not headstrong.”
Bucky stopped in his tracks, taking (Y/n)’s shoulders in his hands and making her look at him. “I didn’t mean it like that, like it’s a bad thing- I love that about you. It was one of the things that drew me into you.” 
A smile developed on (Y/n)’s lips. “Who knew P’s heroic stunt would turn into a compliment shower. Not that I’m complaining.”
Bucky sipped his coffee, tucking her body under his arm and bringing (Y/n) flush to his side. “You want more? Let’s see, you’re insanely witty, you have a beautifully complex mind, you’re extremely hot and you have a thing for older men- which I much appreciate.”
She laughed, burring her face in his chest. It felt so familiar, it felt like home.
It was two am when she heard the shriek. (Y/n) jumped out of bed and opened her bedroom door, trying to find Peanut. The moonlit stairs looked like a crime scene. Blood dripped from step to step all the way to the bottom, where Peanut lay screaming bloody murder.
She raced down the stairs and held her daughter in her arms.
“Mommy it hurts.” Peanut cried, bringing her hand up to a gash on her forehead. 
“I know it hurts baby, I know.” Tears flooded (Y/n)’s eyes but she couldn’t break, not in front of her bleeding daughter. “It’s okay P, I’m going to take you to the hospital okay?”
(Y/n) grabbed the first coat she could find in the closet and the nearest pair of shoes, she rushed to strap P on her car seat and drove to the hospital. 
Ring, ring. 
“Please answer Bucky, please.” (Y/n) had called her ex-husband from the car. 
“Hello?” Bucky’s raspy and sleep filled voice answered.
“Buck?” (Y/n)’s voice cracked, making Bucky sit up straight in bed in a second. “Something’s happened with Peanut, we’re on our way to the hospital.”
“I’ll be there in five.” Was all he said. 
(Y/n) paced outside the room, she could see her daughter sleeping on the white hospital bed through the cracks in the curtains. 
Two hands gripped her shoulders, one cold and one warm, making her eyes shoot up from the floor. 
“What happened?” Bucky asked, peeking into the room. 
“I don’t know what she was trying to do Buck- she got up in the middle of the night and somehow. I don’t know, she fell down the stairs and cut her forehead open.” (Y/n) spoke quickly, like if she processed the words she was speaking she would break. “She said something about wanting to sleep with the doll you brought from Wakanda- I don’t know.”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Peanut is fine.” Bucky tried to soothe her. 
(Y/n) clenched her fists at her side and bit her cheek. Anything to stop her from crying. “If I hadn’t forgotten the stupid doll-“
Bucky took her face in his hands. “This was an accident, it’s no one’s fault.”
(Y/n) slowly nodded, trying to blink away the tears. 
Bucky’s eyes furrowed. “Doll, darling, look at me. I’m going to need you to say that. You know it was an accident right?”
“It was an accident.” She whispered, the pain becoming unbearable.
Bucky wrapped his arms around her, bringing her as close to him as possible. “You’re okay, everything’s going to be fine. I’m here, I’m here for you, for as long as you want me to be.”
That was it, what she needed to hear to break down. To be vulnerable. To know someone would be there to catch her if she fell. 
(Y/n) sobbed into Bucky’s chest for what felt like hours. And he was there, rubbing her back soothingly and whispering kind words into her ear. 
It was well into the evening the next day when Peanut was finally given the all clear from her doctors. Three stitches and an ankle sprain later, she was tucked into bed. 
“I need you to promise me you will never ever do that again.” Bucky brought the comforter up as he tucked Peanut in. 
“Promise daddy.” She smiled. “You wanna know something cool?”
“What’s that?” Bucky ran his finger against her cheek. 
Peanut sat up and pulled Bucky’s cap sleeve up to his shoulder. “Daddy and P are gonna match.”
Bucky’s eyes swelled with tears as he saw his little girl’s tiny hand rub against the scarred skin on his left shoulder. It was like all the pain and suffering suddenly turned into something good. With six simple words, Peanut made everything worth it.
“We sure are.” Bucky lips turned upwards. 
“She looks so peaceful, you wouldn’t imagine she’s a little tornado once those pretty eyes open.” Bucky chuckled lightly as he closed his daughter’s bedroom door. 
“We’ve been amazing parents for the past 24 hours, could I interest you in a glass of cheap wine that will definitely give us a headache tomorrow?” (Y/n) smiled. 
“You read my mind.” Bucky leaned his head back with closed eyes, he grabbed the baby monitor from the hallway credenza. “How about you go outside and I’ll bring everything out. You deserve a break.”
And what a break he gave (Y/n). Bucky just about held the glass of wine to her lips. He brought out the drinks, some snacks and started by bringing her legs closer to him. Massaging her tired calves. 
“I still remember when we bought the house.” Bucky hummed. “And now it’s been what- six years?”
“Do you remember when we wanted to buy that new build? Everything was so white and sterile.” (Y/n) laughed. “But as soon as I found this house, I knew it was the one.”
“Excuse me?” Bucky laughed, eyebrows raised. “If I remember correctly, I was the one who found the house. You were sad thinking we hadn’t found a home, and I was the one who begged you to come and see it.”
(Y/n)’s happy smile dimmed. “We were so happy when we first moved in, what happened?”
“I took you for granted.” Bucky sighed. “That’s what happened.”
“After Steve left, I think I just stopped wanting anything. Work seemed boring, life at home was scary, taking care of P was terrifying for me. For years I thought I would be alone in this world and then suddenly, you came and gave me more love than I deserved. Gave me a beautiful daughter.” Bucky opened his heart. “And instead of working on myself I decided to just stop, stop trying. And it was selfish of me to think that you would just ride along with me even though I did everything to push you away. I never wanted you to think I didn’t love you, God do I love you. Sometimes I’m truly scared of what I feel because I love you so much it hurts. It pains me to have had you and lost you.”
Bucky tried to get out a strong voice but it cracked. “And I’ll live the rest of my life loving you and regretting having lost you. Sometimes, I think it’s a form of Karma. Like the gods above don’t know every wrong thing I did wasn’t me so now I have to live with this deep regret. The kind that settles into your bones.”
“Buck-“ (Y/n) tried to comfort him.
“No,” He shook his head. “you’re too sweet for your own good and you’ll try and tell me it’s not my fault. But it is. I’m not telling you this so you have pity on me, I just want you to know that I fucked up. You were perfect and amazing and I didn’t know what to do with something so delicate.”
“And I’m saying this just so you know that I’ll always be here for you. I’ll always love you.” 
(Y/n) couldn’t take it anymore. She crashed her lips onto his. A kiss that would explain everything she felt. All the anger, all the sadness and especially all the love. A kiss that says: I love you too.
She rested her forehead against his, her breath shallow. “Can you stay?”
“Stay tonight?” He asked, his voice pained. 
“Please stay forever.” She whispered. 
Thank you thank you sooo much for the love! Hope you guys like it, if you do remember to like reblog and comment! I'll love you forever if you do &lt;3
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Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <33
And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!
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isawritesshit · 6 months
Text
I ACCIDENTALLY WROTE SOMETHING AND NOW I WANNA CONTINUE IT PLEASE HELP
Okay, so now that I have your attention, remember how I said I was gonna continue my Gojo series over the weekend?
(Btw, if you want, prologue and first chapter are up on that story so you can go read it and then come back to harrass me about not continuing it for forever because I have writer's block)
Well... I may or may not have come up with another Gojo series...
It's kinda an AU of the series I have already started. Basically, our lovely and sexy reader is actually a daughter of the Kamo Clan leader and had been betrothed to Gojo from a young age (yes, this is gonna be one of those arranged marriage things). Reader is basically trained to become the perfect wife for him, essentially mental abuse and being told her whole life that the best way to serve her family was to become an object for him.
So, when Reader goes home with Gojo after their wedding, she expects him to basically be what she was trained for him to be (demanding, a bitch, etc.). However, what Reader doesn't know, is that Gojo has been in love with Reader since he first saw her when they were children, and basically, he teaches the reader to love herself. Plus, there's going to be plot involved.
I'm gonna put what I have for the prologue under the cut. Tell me if y'all wanna see more of this because I low-key just might write it anyways :)
cw: obv themes of force/arranged marriage, hints of mental abuse, mentions of sex, but overall mostly fluffy.
People would say that if there was one thing that Gojo Satoru was not, it would be committed. Not in all ways, however. Satoru was very committed to his sorcery, to the protection of ordinary people and the balance of the their world and the jujutsu one. It was relationships that he struggled with. Yes, he had always had an authority problem, both growing up and even now, so his relationships with jujutsu elders and other clan leaders were never good to begin with, especially when he became a clan leader himself and took up the title as “The World’s Strongest Sorcerer”. However, his friends? Sure he cared deeply for them, but he could never show them that, lest he risk the possibility of them getting hurt for that same reason. Lovers? Absolutely not. They would last a week at best, hence why his friends would say he had commitment issues. 
But not many people knew that Gojo was betrothed to be married, and if there was one thing that he could say that he was committed to, it was that. 
And not just because he knew that the responsibility of upholding the Gojo Clan’s honor and survival was on his shoulders, but also for a reason no one could have predicted. 
The first time Satoru had seen his future bride, they were both young, too young to understand why each of their parents were sitting across from one another, why the most important members of the Kamo clan were staring him down when he was barely five years old. But then his parents asked to see you, and that’s when everything changed. 
You were brought into the room by a caregiver and left in between the two families like you were some kind of meal. A veil-like mask covered the front of your face from the nose down. Your wide eyes looked about. First at your caregiver, who stepped out of the room with a bow, then to your parents, who didn’t even look back at you, then to his parents, and then, finally, to him, the only other child in the room. 
Gojo Satoru didn’t know it at the time, but it was at that moment that he had fallen in love with you. That same day, it was agreed upon that the two of you would wed when he was 25 and shortly after you turned 24. That seemed like such a long time, but… Satoru decided that maybe he would try to get to know you when he saw you next. 
Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. Both of your families kept each of you on a tight leash, and neither were inclined to meet with one another just because the Gojo heir wanted to see his bride. They were rival clans after all, with a long history of vendettas and alliances. 
However, just because Satoru saw you once didn’t mean he stopped thinking of you. Even as a pre-teen, he sounded your name in his head, sometimes aloud when he was alone. Kamo (Y/N). It was one of the few things he knew about you, other than what your eyes looked like. He knew that those eyes had likely changed over the years since the first time he saw you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about them. About you. 
There were a few other things Satoru knew about you. You were the only daughter of Arao Kamo, the Kamo Clan head. Not only that, you were the youngest child and had three older brothers, all of whom he had never met before. He would take in what his parents would tell him about you, though it wasn’t much. Only that you had a different cursed technique from the blood manipulation that ran strong in the Kamo line, and that you were naturally beautiful for your age. 
But Satoru wanted to know more. He wanted to know what your interests were and if they were similar to his. He wanted to know more about your cursed technique and what kind of training you had received. He knew that you would receive some kinds of etiquette and liberal arts education, as was normal for daughters of the clans to do, but did you like any of those things? What foods do you like? How have you grown? 
What did the rest of your face look like? That was the question that replayed constantly in his head after Satoru was notified that him and his parents were to meet with you again to make some further updates to the arrangement. Maybe this would be his chance for him to finally speak with you, to get to know you. 
But it was just the same as before, only this time, the both of you were 13. There was no caregiver to bring you in, and no other Kamo representatives other than your mother and father, whom you sat beside. 
Satoru remembered staring at you the whole time, taking you in. His parents didn’t lie. You were beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you, and you also carried yourself maturely for a young girl. Your eyes had changed, of course, more grown but still just as wide and lively as he remembered. Your face was no longer obscured by a mask, and instead, you held a delicate fan that matched the kimono you wore, covering your face as you listened intently while your parents spoke, but never speaking yourself. 
You never once looked in his direction.
The meeting concluded before he knew it had begun. His parents had needed confirmation of your fertility, since they were to be among the first to be notified when you started your cycle. However, in an offer that was a bit unexpected, your father had requested that the marriage date be moved up five years, to which his parents agreed. That part made Satoru ecstatic. Instead of waiting 12 years, he now would only have to wait seven. 
And with that, you bowed and departed behind your parents, swift and silent. Satoru tried not to look like he was running as he tried to catch another glimpse at you when his parents excused him, but when he peered out the nearest window that overlooked the front lawn where you had arrived, you were already gone. 
And so, Satoru would go another seven years. Another seven years of thinking of you, dreaming of you, wondering what you looked like behind your fan and cosmetics. He had hoped to see you enrolled in the same class as him at Jujutsu Tech, though he knew for a fact that you most likely would not be. Your parents, more so your father, he realized, protected and sheltered you more than ever after that second meeting. He had expected you not to show up to that first day of school, but when that first day was over and you actually didn’t, a small part of his heart still sank. 
Satoru did take some females to bed during the next seven years you spent apart, mostly out of curiosity as to what sex felt like, but also by persuasion of his friends. However, his friends would get confused as to why he would never allow those girls to stay the next morning, or why he would insist on wearing a condom even when they gave him permission to finish inside. He would give the excuse (thought it really was the truth) that he actually wasn’t that interested, or that he also wanted to protect against STDs (the latter was a great insult that had women storming out on him, to his relief). In reality, he wanted his first real time, his first enjoyable time, to be with you. Even if he was allowed to take on any amounts of lovers he wanted both in marriage and out of it, he felt guilty knowing that you had to save yourself for him. So, in a way, he was saving himself for you too. 
As the years came closer and closer, he began to think of you more, trying to subtly gather more information on you, to little avail. He knew that this pining and longing could be considered childish, but he didn’t care. Was it wrong to want to come to love, to already be in love, with the person he was to spend the rest of his life and create a family with? Satoru certainly didn’t think so. However, that didn’t mean he was without restraint. After his parents had passed and the mantle of the Gojo Clan leader was given to him, he didn’t try or demand to see you. After all, the two of you could still be considered strangers. Hell that is what you were, he had to remind himself. He figured it would be best to keep you with your family and not disturb your current life, especially since you would be seeing your family less once you came to live with him (but also because he didn’t want you to see him as some obsessed maniac). He decided he would be patient and wait, which would make your first real meeting with him all the more sweeter. 
Those seven years passed by too fast, he realized as he stood in the center of a magnificent shrine in what could have been the most spectacular and slightly uncomfortable outfit he had ever worn. Your family surrounded him on almost all sides as they awaited your arrival at sunset. Your parents and brothers sat off to one side of the room, and he could feel their eyes on him the entire hour that he stood there. After what seemed like an eternity, your headpiece peaked slowly over the hill as you ascended the path to the shrine. He held his breath. 
He noticed your eyes again first. 
They were downcast, melancholy, almost near lifeless. Not the lively pools of color he remembered and saw so often in his dreams. Your blank expression was such a contrast to the splendor of your being. Indeed, he thought that he was being pledged to a goddess, with the way your updone hair and headpiece played in the golden sunlight, the way the whites, golds, and reds of your wedding kimono and wraps made you look like a princess, and the way your face, your whole face, looked like it was extracted from a star. To put simply, you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. 
Finally, you found your place beside him, your hands clasped in the folds of your long sleeves. It took you standing this close to realize how much smaller you were than him, though he immediately recognized how your face and demeanor had shaped into womanhood since he last saw you. He would catch glimpses of you when he could throughout the ceremony, taking in more of the newest features that you had laid out for him. His heart was beating rapidly, hoping that you would look back at him at least once. 
But you never did, even when you presented one another with ceremonial wine or when you took his arm to leave the shrine for the reception dinner that was filled to the brim with Kamo Clan members and other officials. As soon as you both entered that reception, your fan was over your face. You didn’t say a word to him the whole time, so he never said anything to you. 
A cold sweat had laid itself over Satoru as you said goodbye to your family members. It wasn’t the type of goodbye that he would expect a family to give to their only daughter. There was no affection, no emotion shown, as if leaving your family was merely another ceremony. And then you turned back to him, eyes still looking down of course, and got into his car without a word. 
Satoru could tell that something was wrong and off about you. Sure, you had carried yourself gracefully throughout the entire evening. Every movement you had made between walking and eating and sitting was done to absolute perfection. Maybe it was those monotone movements that were his first sign. No, it wasn’t that. It had to be your eyes. Why were they always so emotionless? Why did you never look up at him? What had happened to you since the last time he saw you?
At least your fan wasn’t up. That he could be thankful for. Satoru sighed. He couldn’t help but feel like the happiest day of his life, the one where he finally got to be with the girl he had loved for 15 years, was the saddest day of your own. He wanted to ask about it so bad, now that he had you alone, but he didn’t. He would just look at you ever so often as you watched the scenery pass by through the car window. Maybe this was your way of taking everything in, and he didn't want to disrupt that. He trusted that you would talk when you were ready.
He waited for you to say something, but you remained silent as the car stopped and he walked you up the stairs to the front door of his home estate. Your new home. In a perfect world, in what he had imagined previously, you would have been smiling and excited as he picked you up to walk you through the doorway. In that world, you would have hugged and kissed him as he twirled you around and around in your own private celebration. The door closing behind him brought him back to reality. You stood in the center of his grand foyer, taking in dark polished wood and rich splendor of your new dwelling place. The space was only illuminated by shaded lamps and a dim glass chandelier. A new couch, your couch, was against one wall, one of the many of your belongings that had been moved in a week ago. Satoru decided to sit on that couch while you stood in the center of the room, looking down, not moving. 
He couldn’t take this anymore. It was like you treated the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. As if he, your new husband, wasn’t sitting ten feet away from you. He even considered the possibility of you being deaf or mute for a moment. No, he didn’t know what to do, other than speak to you. But what to say? Are you feeling okay? Are you happy? Sad? Were your clothes uncomfortable? How come you didn’t speak or look at him? At anyone? Was it something you were afraid of? Were you afraid of…
That had to be it. 
“Are you afraid of me?”
(please lmk what you guys think)
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welcometomyoasis · 7 months
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He's a keeper | Yoon Jeonghan
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🪧 100 event: sweater + Jeonghan | @wheeboo Synopsis: when you bring Jeonghan to meet your scary uncle, things take a funny turn when your uncle plays a little prank. Jeonghan x gn! reader | fluff | 670 words | no warnings A/n: Rania! Thank you for the request and for literally being one of the sweetest people here on tumblr! I really hope you like this! 
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Walking up to the front door of your parent’s house, Jeonghan steeled his nerves and raised his hand to knock on the door. Just as his hand was about to make contact, you swung the front door open, giving Jeonghan a big shock. Giggling at his expression, you bounced up towards him, giving him a peck on the cheek and wrapping your arms around his slim figure. 
“Are you ready hannie? I’m so excited.” 
Scoffing at your question, Jeonghan whined, “angel. That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who is about to meet your scary British uncle. Mind you, you were the one who said that he scared away all your previous boyfriends. What if he doesn’t like me? Then I’ll never be able to see you again. We’ll end up like Romeo and Juliet.”
Shaking your head at his dramatic behaviour, you took his hand and pulled him into your living room where your parents and uncle were sitting on the couch. After saying a brief greeting to your parents, you dragged Jeonghan over to your uncle’s side. 
Now, Jeonghan was usually very confident as he was able to charm others easily. But you said your uncle was stern and hard to impress. Plus, you were very close to your uncle which gave Jeonghan the additional pressure of needing (and wanting) to make a good impression. It also didn’t help that when your uncle stood up, he towered over Jeonghan.
Gulping, Jeonghan shakily handed a present to your uncle, saying, “it’s nice to meet you. Y/n has talked about you a lot. Happy birthday… Uh, I got you a jumper for your birthday. I hope it fits.”
Looking down at Jeonghan, your uncle scoffed incredulously, “What am I going to do with a jumper? I can’t wear a dress…”
Chuckling nervously, Jeonghan said, “it’s not a dress. It’s a jumper? Isn’t this a jumper? Y/n said it was.”
In a flat tone, your uncle noted, “Jumpers are dresses.”
With your uncle seemingly agitated, Jeonghan shot you a pleading look. Instead of helping him, you simply shrugged your shoulders and gestured at Jeonghan to continue talking.
Sulking a little at your refusal to help him, Jeonghan muttered softly, “Isn’t this a jumper? You know, the thing you wear when you are cold. A sweater? Don’t you call sweaters jumpers in Britain?”
Seeing Jeonghan’s downcast expression, your uncle softened and let out a laugh, “I’m just joking with you. Yes, we do call these jumpers in Britain though jumpers sometimes refer to dresses. My niece told me you are a bit of a prankster, so I thought we would scare you a little. Sorry about that. It’s nice to meet you Jeonghan. Thank you for the present.”
With that, Jeonghan heaved a sigh of relief and narrowed his eyes on you. Snickering, you battered your eyes at him and gave him an innocent guilty looking smile. Although he was exasperated that you had tricked him, Jeonghan could only laugh and quietly curse his soft spot for you. For all the pranks that he always pulled on you, he decided he would let you off the hook, just this once, maybe.
Having watched the entire exchange, your mother decided that it was time to save Jeonghan from you and your uncle’s antics. She stood up, grabbed your father, and motioned for Jeonghan to come help her in the kitchen. Quietly excusing himself, Jeonghan relaxed and quickly scurried off behind your mother.
As Jeonghan left the living room, your uncle bent down to whisper in your ear, “you know, I think he’s the first one I like. He’s nice. Make sure he treats you well and vice versa.”
Watching fondly while Jeonghan helped your mother and joked with your father in the kitchen, you said firmly, “Don’t worry, I will. Afterall, he’s a keeper.”
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taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff
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yaut-jaknowit · 2 months
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Okay lil idea! Don’t force urself to do this I had to write this down before I forget.
Fem reader who has a soothing lullaby voice while also good at singing!, reader lives in a cabin deep in the woods, hunts and build her own tools, she uses a bow and arrow, got that magnificent strong will, stubborn as shit tho, never backs down from a challenge no matter how overpowered her enemy is. Very smart mouth always fights back never fail to step back from a fight.
Fem reader x We'ar-ow
Siren Calls for a Challenge
Pairing: We'ar-ow (female Yautja) x Reader
Word Count: 3913
Summary: Deep in the woods of Alaska, far up north in the state, you have a little hut. It serves it purpose throughout the years and seasons. You live and hunt up there, far from civilization. The best life you've known. As you venture out for a hunt you've planned, there a shimmer in the tree line.
Author Note: I'm gonna be honest, I don't know if I did the smart mouthing right. I had to look up good comebacks and comments as such for this. I tried to make the reader be super sassy... I hope it works! I do love sassy reader who gives no fucks about a Yautja. I should probably write more like that.
Masterlist
Ao3
Deep in the lands of Alaska, was a small little hut that worked perfectly. Just enough space to house one person and the necessities of life. A life of hardships, surviving in world meant for kill or be killed. You enjoyed it. The challenges brought to you almost everyday. The need to hunt for you own food. Even down to creating your own weapons to hunt for said food.
Guns and bullets are useful out here, easier to use against a large predator such as a bear. Yet, to get the ammo and supplies was another thing. It required you to leave the safety of the lands and travel more than fifty miles on foot alone to reach even the nearest civilization. It wasn’t a risk that was worth when arrows are craftable out here. A more renewable source for weapons. Use what the land gives in plenty.
In the confines of your hut, your vocal cords hummed with a tune your parents sung to you while young. Though, it’s original use was to lull you to sleep, now you use to fill in the silence that pierced the air. It was a soft tune that you remembered by heart, letting muscle memory guide you. Both in song and craft
More arrows were needed before the next hunt took place tomorrow morning. The supply was running low after the wind kept knocking them off course a week ago. You still brought down the elk, a smaller one than you meant to. It’s last you the week but supplies were running low. With winter coming as well, you truly needed to stock up on food before the first cold freezes over everything. All the creatures will either hunker down or rarely venture out. You couldn’t do either of those. Your stomach still needed to be filled during that time. Plus, the extra pelts never hurt to be dried and put to good use.
The last arrow had been created and sheathed into your quiver. That was set by the door with your trusty bow. A hunting knife was hung by its sheath next to the bow. Lastly, a machete for anything that tried to be up close and personal with you. This is Alaska. A dangerous land that tried to kill anyone on it, no matter who or what you are.
.
As the sun rose high above the ground, you slipped every piece of gear needed. Hunting knife? Check. Bow and arrows? Check. Machete? Check. Food and water? Also check. Once you deem everything in order, you stepped out into the chilling air. The door creaked closed behind you.
Cool air filled your lungs to the brim and enjoyed the bitting to help you wake up then you exhaled. A short, small white cloud appeared in the air. It immediately disappeared afterwards. Perfect.
A softly smile tugged at the corner of your lips while you began a path towards a known area for elk. A spot where they frequented as of late. You didn’t want to spook them from the area so soon and have to track them down all over again. Always a balance to nature, including this. After this, you would have to find a new spot to hunt before winter fell over the area. Or else, you would be stranded with no easy food source in the dead of winter. That was lesson you once learned the hard way. All it took was that one time.
Hunger wasn’t a fun feeling.
Though, you live within the confines of nature, you enjoyed every moment you were allowed this. A peacefulness that washed over you. As if you were just taking a normal stroll out to wander around. Yes, you were on a mission but it was never wrong to breath in this life you were given. A life you were too stubborn to die from, to give up. Anyone or thing would have to rip it out of your cold, dead hands.
In a peaceful atmosphere, you were still on watch. Lax as your form was, you watched everything around. Anything that could pose a threat to your way of life. May it be a mountain lion or bear growing to comfortably around your territory. You made a mental note inside of your head. Then, later on, a plan would be devised on how best to solve this situation all by your lonesome. There was no backup, no other savior this deep into Alaska. It was just you out here. Just you.
Light, carefully placed steps took you from the cozy little cabin you called home. Deeper into the forest, tracking down prey you needed to eat. With such knowledge, muscle memory guiding you, you reached the known grazing area and stopped just shy of the tree line. The meadows were void of larger life. Only soon-to-be wilting grass filled the open space. You hunkered down in a bush and took a couple sips from your water. It was refreshing over your tongue, cooling down your slightly warmed body. The hike long and helps warm up your body.
In the brush, you pulled your bow free from your torso and notched an arrow. Like the predator you’ve become, you wait as one, never faltering your gaze from the open meadows before you. Today, you were taking home next week’s food.
The day was slightly hotter, not enough to shrug off the jacket pelt that hung off of your shoulders. The sun rose higher in the sky but never crested to hit the peak. The tilt of the earth did not allow for that. It stayed midway through the blue sky the entire time, short in the amount of hours for light.
Soon, light would be a rarity this far north into Alaska.
As your hand reached out to touch the pouch containing water, a shimmer of light your attention. You froze to the spot, breath caught in your throat.
Out on the other side of the meadows, just into the tree line, sunlight reflected off something. You didn’t dare to move, only observing as the shimmered moved closer into the meadow. Nothing instantly came to mind to supply what this could be from. It wasn’t like light reflecting off of a cats eye. It was also too light for that to be. Your muscles grew taunt, ready to spring into action at a moments call.
From the corner of your eye, you noticed movement and had to take your gaze off of the shimmer. Elk. A herd of elk you’ve grown to know pranced into the meadow. A spot known for their grazing. The group bowed their heads and began to snack away at the grass.
The shimmer caught your attention again yet goes unnoticed by the prey animals. Downwind from them, you waited for a single elk to walk just close enough to strike down.
The herd dispersed a little, spreading out and growing closer to your hunkered down. You steeled your nerves despite the disturbance across the field. The bow in hand was held tighter and prepared yourself to pull the string back and fire the notched arrow.
As you prepared for the upcoming kill shot, the shimmer was on the move. Internally, you cursed and prayed to whatever god would listen to you this thing wouldn’t disturb your hunt. Just don’t spook the herd! That’s all you could ask for. It could be weeks before they returned to spot if it scared them badly.
Before you could comprehend the sight unfurling before you, one of the elks laid dead on the meadow. A large axe lodged into his head, nearly splitting the skull into two. The creature officially dead with no chance of escape. Your jaw dropped at that alone.
Then, the air was caught in your throat.
Pink, cream, and purple. A humanoid form stood at the down elk, easily dwarfing it. Adorn in metal armor, a mask covered the entirety of its face; hiding away what hid below. Four long… dreads hung over its shoulder. Then, the rest were tied up behind its elongated head shaped slightly like a dome on top. That was all you could get from the distance away.
All the other elk scattered like the prey they are. Anger flared to a blazing heat behind your sternum. With little care of what this thing was, you marched out into the field like a crazed hunter. Your steps were loud and easily announced your presence to this creature. This damn thing ruined your hunt and made you lose your next week’s food. Worst of all, this probably scared off the herd. They won’t return for some time. A growl rumbled in the back of your throat.
A blank, metal expression snapped up at you. That didn’t deter you in the slightest. You got within twenty feet of it before a bone rattle snarl bore through the rather quiet air. That stopped you in your tracks. A warning. A threat. If you stepped an inch closer, you would end up like its downed prey.
You still set a glare on the unknown, faceless creature. A challenge burning in your heated eyes. “You stole my kill. You ran off the herd. You spooked them! They won’t come back here for weeks,” you accused, knowing this thing couldn’t respond back to you. Humanoid or not. This wasn’t a human. Not with its height or the strange shape of its head. But it messed with your hunt. You weren’t about to let that slide.
Behind its emotionless mask, clicks and hisses sounded. It sounded like it was grumbling to itself. As if you were just some gnat that was annoying it. Your hand tightened on your bow, straining the wood under you palm. “You ruined my hunt,” you spat at it and pointed a finger at the unknown creature.
It snorted, muffled, and leaned down. The hatchet was swiftly pulled from the skull of its kill. The weapon twirled in its fingers. A skilled trick just show you how well it was versed with the axe. Your free hand drifted to the machete latched to your hip, ready to defend yourself.
“I did no such thing.” Soft in its tone yet told you about a chapter in its life of battle. Your grasp on the weapon nearly dropped it to the meadow’s grounds. This humanoid figure that clearly wasn’t human spoke to you.
Your eyes only flinched for a second before the glare was returned in full force. “Yes, you did! I set out this morning and waited in the brush since then for them to return here. They are a herd I follow. I know their pattern. You just scared them off!” Your body was shaking with anger. The comfort of your life had been disturbed by this thing.
The humanoid figure brushed you off by kneeling down. A knife was pulled free from a sheath at its side. With practiced movements, it sliced through the belly and began to clean its kill. This was hunter. It was too precise with the cut, the way it scooped out the guts. Your eyes narrowed on the creature and stepped closer.
An axe stuck out of the ground before your feet. Your gaze snapped down to it, nonchalant about its threatening manner. “You think that scares me?” you mused with a dangerous grin. You knew your prowess and were willing to challenge this creature for its hunt. “I’ve face worse than whatever you are.”
Without taking your eyes off of it, you leaned down and plucked the weapon from the ground. It wasn’t meant for you hand. The size and weight weren’t something even the average human would use. Yet, you still twirled it, testing its weight. “I think this mine now.” An shit eating smirk spread your mouth wide as you looked at the kneeling figure.
The growl it released shook the very ground you stood on. But, that didn’t deter you. Like any other predator who wonders into your territory, you’ll just beat it back until it learns its lesson.
It rose back to a standing position, body tense, ready just like you. You only shifted slightly into a less cocky stance and prepared to fight if it came down to it. This creature easily towered over your form, that much you could tell with the distance between you. That didn’t deter you. Instead, that only pushed more adrenaline into your veins, heart pounding into your ear.
“it’s only fair I keep this. Deny all you want, but you ruined my hunt. I feel like you need to pay for it. Either with me taking this as payment-“ you held up the hatchet- “or possibly with shed blood may sedate me enough.” The long-handled weapon was twirled again, showing off the fact you knew how to handle it.
Behind the mask, it scoffed and rolled its shoulders. “You didn’t have rights over this hunt,” it snarled at you and pulled out another hatchet on its other hip.
“I’d agree with you but then we’d both be wrong,” you snarked dropped your bow onto the ground and used the newly freed hand to grasp at your machete. Both of your hands filled with a weapon. One you were far more knowledgeable then the other.
The soles of your self-crafted shoes dug into the soft earth. Your muscles helped you launch yourself forward, straight at the creature. Instantly, you took up the offensive position. Your moved were swift, bringing down the hatchets blade  to bed itself into the creatures shoulder. An action it caught onto quickly. You weren’t looking to kill, only maim.
This newer weapon was harder wield than your machete, a different fighting style in general. It left you open for attack. The hatchet held high above your head to bring down onto its skin.
It darted backwards and started its own offensive attack. A battle of dance, trading blows and swings. Neither figure willing to back down. There you were, keeping up with this thing. Though, only by the skin of your teeth where you able to skim past without losing a limb.
A slice cut at your side, tearing your shirt open. Fresh, hot blood graced the open sky and dripped down your skin. You snarled, teeth bared in a whole show of unbridle rage. The beast returned the gesture with a bellow that shook your bones. You bared more down on it with a slash that drew its own blood and dipped the tip of your blade with neon green fluids.
The two of you trading dodges and hits the same. You were able to keep up with a beast such as it.
More cuts opened your skin. None of them fatal.
Both of you backed away from each other. Sweat clung to your skin uncomfortably, doing its job in cooling down your overheated body. Your shoulders heaved with panting breathe as you surged for air and studied the beast after a timeless battle. It took panted, chest expanding with each inhale.
“I didn’t expect for you to be able to put your money where your mouth is. If you have one. I’m impressed,” you mused and rolled one of your shoulders. An ache growing in the taunt muscles. “It’s time to leave. I told you; this was my food for the week.”
Either it straight up ignored you or just didn’t bother to care. You were quick to find yourself back into a harrowing battle with it again.
“Whoa, whoa. Hold your horse, there’s-guh! There’s plenty of me to share. Gotta keep some of it for the ladies though,” you jestered. The grin returned to your face. The hatchet’s blade skirted past the spot you once were a second before. “Man, you truly want to break off a piece like a kitkat bar.”
A small pout passed over your features when it didn’t even make a chittering noise. “it’s okay if you don’t like me. I know not everyone has good taste.” The creature only faltered for a second but left you a moment slice along its pink thigh. The creature snarled and whipped its axe towards you. Barely missing your scalp if you didn’t duck just in time.
“Oh, you missed me!” Despite not seeing its facial expressions freely, you read the irritation clear as a sun day. The muscles that lined its forearms flex while it gripped the wooden handle tighter. You thought it was about to cleave your head into two when it had the chance.
Something caught the heel of your foot while dodging a particularly deadly swipe. You gasped and teetered over straight onto your rump with a grunt. This was the end. The dance had ended with you making a fatal mistake.
Instinctively, you brought up your machete to block an knowingly incoming blow. Pain exploded in your  forearm as a weight bared down on it. You choked on spit and fought underneath the tremendous weight, but it was futile.
A blade was pressed to the vulnerable part of your throat. One swipe and everything would be over. You swallowed down the lump building in your throat and looked up at the winner.
Behind its massive head, a halo of light framed it. Like a god or goddess peering down at your injured form. The seconds began to tick on by. The only sound in the air being the two of you panting to regain a balance. Your tongue darted out to wet your dry lips.
It never came for the killing blow.
“If you’re expecting me to beg for my life, might as well finish your cleaning. You won’t get anything from me,” you spat though there was a slight tone of respect in your voice. It fought well again you and became the winner in the end.
More weight was shifted onto your arm as it shuffled above you. The hatchet was pulled away and latched onto its belt. You knew at a moments notice, it could whip it back out and finish the job. Then, it’s stolen weapon was plucked from your smash arm and sheathed all the same. You clenched your teeth together in both the pain and disappointment it got it back from you.
“Can you at least give me the curtsey of knowing who and what you are before you kill me?” you questioned, tone still firm but with less anger in it. You truly wanted to know what this thing was. At least you could take that knowledge with you before it took your life.
Weaponless hands, one pinched your chin and tilted it up so you could face it. The other reached up and pulled at two tubes attached to its head. A small hiss entered the air before it tugged the metal mask free from its spot.
What was revealed wasn’t something you would ever expect. You nearly cringed at the sight. This wasn’t anything known to mankind. As if a crab was turned humanoid with a face like that.
Four mandibles or fangs adorn its completely inhuman features and twitched every once in a while. Hidden behind those were more teeth you didn’t wish to meet at anytime. Then, orange pupils that could possibly glow in the dark peered down at you. A predator look set on your pinned form. This thing screamed predator. A creature born, built for the hunt.
The hand on your chin stayed and forced you to keep looking into its eyes. “You would be dead by now. Your head hanging from my belt. Consider yourself lucky that I spared your life. I see potential in yout skills. I want to help develop those skills. I will not let them go to waste. You need a teacher.” That voice, less muffled this time.
“Wow, sparing my life? I feel so honored.” Even after escaping death, not fully though, you were still being smart mouthed.
It tightened its grip. “I might take back my offer.” The creature leaned down crowded into your space. You flashed your teeth at it with a grin.
“Nah, you wouldn’t. Seems like you already like me too much to do that.” You don’t know how you do it but you act like this was conversation with an old friend. It growled and shoved your head to the side but never made a move to gut you like the elk.
Then, it stood back up, towering over your laying form. You sat up and rubbed at your wrist you knew surely was going to bruise later today. “You still didn’t answer my questions.” If you were going to work with this beast, you would like to a put to its strange face.
At this point, the two of you caught your breaths. Its chest expanded with a deep, heavy breath. The beast turned on its heel to look down at you with a critical eye. “I’m called We’ar-ow. You will learn later what I am once I deem you worthy of the information.” You faked gasped and got up, placing a hand over your heart.
“Oh come on! We just had a battle to a near death,” you whined. “I feel like I’ve earned it.” The machete you once bore was sheathed back into its spot on your hip. Your body now sliced with multiple cuts that will require some medical assistance but not at that very moment.
All the pink beast did was look down at you with a neutral expression. Despite the difference of features, you felt it was universal for the expression to mean the same. “Fine. If you can’t answer me that, can you at least tell me if you’re an alien or not.” Still with cheeky smirk on your face. Yeah, you’ll learned it could if it so wishes. Why not tempt fate while you’re at it?
Its pink back met you, long legs striding away from you. The creature turned its head to look over its shoulder for a second. “Yes.” You jumped up and thrusted a fist in the air.
“Ah-ha! I knew it.” You scrambled after We’ar-ow, not wanting to wander too far from it. “So… what happens now? You said I had potential or something.” You were forced to trot next to the newly friended creature. The steps easily dwarfing three of your own.
We’ar-ow, if you remember correctly, knelt down at the belly of elk it once worked on and returned to cleaning its kill. “You will quiet down and stop asking many questions,” she snapped at you but didn’t even look over at you, focused on cutting out unneeded parts.
“Well, that’s going to a problem. I want to learn, that requires questions.” You had the creature caught then. It grunted underneath its breath and sheathed its blade after wiping it off. “I can carry that if you want.”
Orange eyes glanced over at your smaller frame. Yes, you were muscular for having to survive in a wilderness that was more than happy to kill you. The creature dipped its domed head and stood up.
You walked over to the dead elk and glanced at We’ar-ow. “Watch and learn from the master.” You crouched down onto your haunches, careful of your weight and maneuvered the downed elk onto your shoulders. A single push and you were back to a standing position, proudly looking at We’ar-ow. “Where to master?”
Oh, you were going to have fun with this creature.
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justmeinadaze · 1 year
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Take It Out On Me Part 6 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)
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A/N: I wrote this three days ago lol I've been so stressed and worried about things...all I want is these boys to use me and then cuddle me. <3.
My plan with this series has always been to go through the series. So with my next chapter Steve will be more Season 2 Stevie.
They do have a conversation on the phone in this chapter. Red is Eddie.
Warnings: Dom Steddie and Sub plus size reader and all that that implies (I regret nothing!) Rough smut. They sneak into her bedroom, degrading, choking, dirty talk. Possessive boys <3. Angst in the beginning and fluff at the end.
Word Count: 3916
It had been a couple of weeks since that night in Eddie’s trailer. Steve had scrubbed off the graffiti on your car before you woke up so your parents never found out what happened. 
To your surprise, Tommy and Carol left you alone but to your slight dismay they stayed away from Steve as well. Of course, you hated them and from what you learned so far Steve wasn’t like them at all but you hated that he sat at lunch alone most of time or skipped it entirely. 
You told him he was more than welcome to sit with you and Masie but all he did was smile and nod his head. 
The school year was coming to a close and you felt yourself start to panic, still unsure what your relationship with them actually was. What would the summer be like? Would they spend time with you and take you on dates? Were you even dating or did they just want to fuck you? What if they got into a relationship or you did? Would the dynamic stop? Were you even allowed to seek a relationship since you belonged to them?
You needed answers and you finally mustered up the courage during a conference call between you three. 
“Senior year, dude. I can’t fucking wait. One more year and we’re fucking free!”
“Calm down, Munson. It’s amazing they let you through.”
“First off, rude. Secondly, what were your grades again, King Steve? Oh, that’s right. About as low as mine.”
Their laughter trails off into silence. 
“Well, someone’s mighty quiet tonight. You alright, princess?”
“What are we?”
“Um, humans last time I checked. Why? Is that on the test?”
“No”, you giggle. “I mean, the three of us. What are we? Are we…in a relationship or am I just a toy for you?”
“You say that last part like you don’t enjoy being our little toy.”
“…so it is just sex?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Why won’t you answer?”
“Why do we have to put a fucking label on it? Can’t we just fucking be?”
“As much as I enjoy hearing you two go at it, I’m kind of curious myself as to why you want to know. Are you not happy with the way things are?”
“I didn’t say that. I just… how long is this going to last? What if something happens? What if one of us gets into a relationship—”
“Who are you interested in getting with?!”
“No one! I’m just asking questions.”
“Very interesting series of questions.”
“Oh, please. You both act like I have men lined up to date me when it’s way more probable that Steve the Hair Harrington and bad boy Eddie Munson have many women that want to be theirs!”, you sigh. “If that happened… if it’s just sex than it would be over…”
Their silence was deafening. A knock on your bedroom door startled you as your mom entered without waiting for an answer. 
“Y/N. Are you still on the phone? I know this is the last week of school but it’s almost eleven.”
“I know, mama. Masie and I are almost done going over our final project.”
“Hm. Ok then I won’t keep you but I wanted to talk to you about this summer. Did you still want to go spend time with your uncle?”
“Oh…I totally forgot about that.”
“You know how your father and I feel about New York but he promised me you and your cousins wouldn’t go out at night or anything.”
“Can I think about it?”
“Yeah, of course. We need to know by Sunday, okay? Now hurry up and get to bed.” She kisses your forehead before leaving your room and closing the door.
“New York, huh. Well, at least we know why she’s asking now.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Definitely want to be free of attachments in a city like that.”
“Steve…you’re putting words in my mouth. I’m allowed to ask the questions I have. It’s not my fault that you two seem to be too scared to answer them.”
“Watch your tone, little girl. For the time being, you’re still ours.”
“For the time being.”, you repeated. Tears stung in your eyes at his words; you got your answer. Why does it hurt so much? “I see. Ok, I understand.”
“Your tone makes me think that you don’t.”
“No. I do, Steve. I really do. You both really do just want to use me. I got what I asked for. I have to go now. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“Don’t hang up that phone, Y/N. We are NOT done here.”
“Yes, we are.”
################
You woke up at three in the morning, tossing and turning through most of the night. Those words remained imprinted front and center in your brain. 
“For the time being…”
You left your bedroom, walking down the hall to your bathroom. The cool water felt good against your face as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. 
Why did I expect it to be any different? Yeah so they started being more friendly with me but that didn’t mean anything. They still don’t talk to me at school. We don’t even hang out besides that one time after the fight. Fuck…why does this hurt so much?
Sighing, you throw the used hand towel on the sink and head back towards your room. As soon as you close your door, a hand comes from behind you, muffling your shrieks as another arm pins you against a body.
“I said we weren’t done. You think you tell us what to do?”, Eddie growled as his angry eyes glared into your frightened ones. “No, little girl. You belong to us. We are in charge of you.”
You started speaking against Steve’s hand and he lowered it enough so you could be heard. 
“For the time being, you mean.”
The metalhead smirked before grabbing your throat, gripping it tightly between his fingers. “I’m going to go ahead and start this here by giving you an out. Say vanilla and we’ll disappear the way we came. But, princess, I’m warning you. This particular game we are about to play is going to be rough.” You quickly sucked in heavy breathes, gasping for air when he let you go. 
“I…can handle anything…you do to me.”
Eddie’s sarcastic smile grows as he steps forward till his forehead is just above your own. 
“Good because we’re going to show you what being used really feels like.”, he whispers. 
Steve covers your mouth again with his palm as Eddie reaches over to your desk and grabs the pair of scissors laying to the side. You fight against the boy’s hold as the other man cuts your sleep shirt off your body, tossing it to the floor. 
You whimper when he takes hold of your hair and forces you to your knees.
“If you need to stop, tap your hand twice.” You glared up at him with angry eyes and you grit your teeth as he pulls harder. “You keep giving me attitude and this is going to be a lot worse for you. Do you understand me? I said do you understand me?”, he snarls when you don’t reply. 
“Yes, I understand.”
Eddie maintains his hold on you as he unbuckles his belt and pants, pushing them down enough to free his cock. “Open your mouth.” He hisses when your flat tongue glides along his length. “That’s it. Open your mouth wider. Take all of me like the good little whore you are.”
His fingers never let up their grip on your head as his hips thrust into you, forcing him down your throat. You gagged as spit fell from your lips. 
“Harrington, have you felt her lips around your dick yet?”
“Naw, Eds. I don’t think so.”
The metalhead pulls himself out of your mouth and lifts you off your knees, throwing you to the bed on to your back. Steve lifts you under your arms, dragging you till your head was hanging off the bed.
His cock sprang free from his shorts and without warning shoved it between your parted lips.
“Jesus.”
“I know. She feels good, right? Not as good at this pussy but…”, Eddie chuckles as he smacks his hand down between your legs. A muffled moan vibrates from your throat when you feel his tongue slide down your stomach as his fingers glide under the waistband of your panties. 
“Now, sweetheart. You’re going to have to be really quiet so I would recommend your keep your filthy mouth on Stevie’s cock.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not letting her go anywhere.” Steve’s hand gripped the back of your head, holding you still as he pumped his hips. 
They watched with immense satisfaction as your eyes rolled back and fluttered closed as Eddie used two of his fingers to breach your entrance.
“You’re so fucking wet.”, he laughed mockingly. “Just a dirty slut, hm? Always this soaked just waiting to be fucked. It must be hard…being a slut and have no one before us fuck you the right way.”
You whimpered as he thrust his digits at a faster pace making Steve grunt above you.
Abruptly, the metalhead inserts a third finger into your dripping cunt and your back arches off the bed at the sudden intrusion as you forcefully pull your lips off of the other boy’s cock. 
“Eddie, plea—” Steve’s palm immediately covers your mouth as your own fingers reach to pull on Eddie’s jacket. 
Steve helps you pull yourself upright as your eyes meet his friends.
“One tap, yes. Two taps, no. Do you want to stop?”
You loosened your grip on him, slowly raising your palm off his shoulder.
*Tap. Tap*
“Didn’t think so. I mean look at you. Look between your legs here.” Steve grabs your hair and forces you to look down as you moan against his hold while Eddie continues taunting you. “Look how fucking dripping you are. Your pussy is just pulling me in. Now, Y/N, I want you to cum for me. I want you to cum so fucking hard that you drench these panties.”
His pace was slow but his fingers were much bigger than yours, stretching you open while hitting every sensitive spot inside you. Their eyes bore into you as you keened into Steve’s chest. 
“No. Hey, no. Keep watching him.” His lips tickled your ear as he forced your head to continue looking down. “I want this image burned into your brain that way, while your running around New York fucking any guy you can get your needy hands on…” As he spoke you started to push back against him, fighting against his strength at his words. He adjusted his body, wrapping his free arm around your chest to keep you still. “…you’ll remember that no one will ever make you feel as good as we have.”
You draped your arm over his, your hand clinging to the one over your mouth as your hips lifted off the bed and you came. 
“Atta, girl. Let go, baby.”, Eddie praised but there was still a gruffness behind it. They were nowhere near done with you. He slid your panties down your legs as Steve lowered his palm to allow you to catch breath. Your eyes follow the metalhead’s movements as he gets off your bed and removes the rest of his clothes. “You know, Y/N. I don’t know which version of you I like fucking more. The meek little girl or the fucking brat who talks back.”
“Meek little girl. To be honest though, I’ve never actually fucked the brat that fights back. She’s always opened her legs willingly for me which I always thought was amusing since she hated me for a while there.”
“You two never listen.” You punch Steve’s chest and roll away from him, placing your feet on the floor as you stand in defiance. “I’ve told you before I never hated you and you both refused to answer my questions immediately jumping to the conclusion that I’m going to run away and fuck someone else!” You pause as you try to calm down to keep from screaming at them. Your eyes meet Eddie’s annoyed ones as he stalks closer to you. “I guess we found your damage, Munson. YOU feel like no matter what people are going to leave you.”
His callused hand reaches for your throat and backs you against the wall before shoving your panties into your open mouth. 
“The only sounds I want to hear are your fucking whimpers when I make you cum again.” Eddie’s arm slips under your knee as he lifts your leg in the air and guides his cock roughly into your entrance. “Be sure not to be too loud. Wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to know their daughter is a whore. Let alone the freaks whore.”
His head fell against yours as he aggressively thrust into you. Eddie’s words hurt you, not because of what he was calling you but how he was viewing himself. You never once thought of him as a freak or the other vile names this town called him. You wanted to tell him that, reassure him but all you could do was moan behind your gag as your hands reached out to cling to his neck.
“No matter—mmm—no matter where you go or who fuck, Y/N, you’re mine. You belong to us.” Eddie’s blown out eyes find yours as he pulls your panties out of your mouth. “Say it, Y/N.”
“I-I-I don’t want to fuck anyone else. I only—fuck—want you two.”
“Now who’s not fucking listening?”
“Still you.”, you growl as you reach up to pull his hair. His cock inside of you throbs at the action and your pussy tightens around him.
“God fucking damn it.”, Eddie grunts as he shoves the panties and his hand over your mouth, pumping into you so hard that it takes every fiber of your energy not to scream and melt into the pleasure. Your body trembles as you cum and he pressed himself flat against you, rolling his hips till you feel his seed warm your insides. 
Eddie drops your leg as he pulls out, wrapping his arms around you as he holds you up. 
“No, hey, come on, sweetheart. We aren’t done yet. Stevie’s been waiting so patiently.”
The man himself appeared by your side lightly pushing his friend to the side to take his place. “Do you want me, Y/N?” He pulls the panties out of your mouth and tosses them to Eddie as you nod. “Don’t just nod you head, little girl. You fucking say it. Tell me that you want me.”
“I…I want you, Steve… Please.”
“Yeah?” His fingers roughly grip your chin, turning you to focus on him. “Show me how much you want me.” He suddenly lifts you in his arms and carries you back to your bed, positioning you on top of him. Reaching between your legs, you grab his cock and gradually lower yourself down onto him. Moaning, you lean over his chest, his fingers digging into your thighs as you bounce on his dick. 
Steve balances on his elbows and your lips find his quickly before he jerks his head away from you. 
“I said show me how…how much you…want me.”, he pants. “This is all…you got?” You reach for the back of his neck, bringing him to a sitting position, clinging to his shoulders as you grind and bounce against him as hard as you can. “Fuck, that’s it. Just like that, baby girl.”
Hearing him call you that had your pussy flutter around him and you had to bite down on his shoulder to hide your moan. 
“Oh, Harrington. I think she liked that.” Eddie crawled onto the bed beside you both as his finger gently turned your cheek. “Maybe we need titles of our own… would you like that? Have us take care of you and in return you show us the respect we deserve?”
You don’t respond, choosing to wrap your arms around Steve as he does the same, laying back against the mattress as his hips thrust up to meet yours. Shoving your face in the pillow behind him, you whimper as you cum, him following after you as he pumps his spend roughly deep into your body. 
He continues to hold you as Steve rolls you both on to your side before you feel fingers tug at your hips as Eddie turns you on to your back and delicately cleans between your legs. Your eyes scan his face as he takes care of you, tossing the towel towards your hamper. As he bends down to grab his jeans, you yank his hand hard till he tumbles on top of you. 
“Geez, woman. Be careful. I’m fragile you know.”
You grin softly as you cover his mouth with your palm. “I want that. I want you to take care of me and to belong to you. I want to give you all the respect you deserve. I just don’t think…you both would believe me every time I did.” You move your hand from his lips to his cheek as you turn to look at Steve. 
“I only want you two. I don’t want anyone else but I’m not naive to the fact that girls are attracted to you. I may be yours but not in that way. At some point… you’re going to want a relationship. Someone to give you more than just sex.”
“So we’re not even going to talk about it?”, Steve asked.
“You know those are two separate issues, right? You feeling like we don’t believe you and you feeling like we would want to be in a relationship with someone else. If we have such major trust issues than why would we get into a romantic relationship with someone?”
“See, Eddie. When you say things like that… makes me think ‘Ok, this isn’t romantic.’”
“Why does there have to be a label?”
“Because Steve, I need to know where I stand.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to know if you’re going to hurt me!” You pushed against Eddie’s chest with your hand as you sat up, tucking your knees under your chin. “I’ve been burned before. I don’t…I can’t do it again. If it’s sex, fine it’s sex. If it’s…something else…”
Arms wrap around your shoulders and you glance over to see Eddie’s lips kiss your skin. “I want to give you an answer you want to hear.”
“Be honest with me.”
“We’ve never done this before.”
That makes you genuinely laugh until you realize he’s not laughing with you. Your head whips around to find Steve who shrugs slightly as he nods his head.
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“To be fair, you’ve never done it before either.” Eddie pulls away laying back on your bed and you follow him down. “We always wanted to.”
“Have you done it separately? The...dominate thing?”
The metalhead sighs as he rubs his hand along his stomach, throwing his other arm behind his head. “Sex, yes obviously. This? Not really. I tried a few times but apparently, I’m too mean.”
“Yeah, you are.” His eyes find your soft ones as you smile.
You roll over to face Steve as you wait for his answer. “No, honey. I’ve never tried it. It’s…slipped out a few times but…yeah.”
“Like when we were in the auditorium?” His eyes scrunched in confusion. “You said you were going to spank me but that was before you two quizzed me on what I like sexually.”
Eddie’s arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled himself closer to you. “The truth is, sweetheart, we don’t know what this is either. I meant what I said when you asked why you. You’re sweet and beautiful but hot damn is there’s something fucking sexy hidden under there. All we know is—”
“You do something to us.”, Steve finishes. “We want to explore it more but we don’t want to hurt you either. Not like that.”
“So what does this mean?”
“It means…you go to New York. Have a good time and call us any chance you get.” 
Steve reaches out to caress your cheek as your eyelids start to close. “And we’ll be right here when you come home.”
#############
The sound of your alarm screaming at you that morning bores straight into your head. After slamming at it with your palm you curl back up into ball and press your face into the pillow. Your head shoots up when last nights events jog your memory. Eddie and Steve were already gone, leaving your window open for emphasis. 
You sighed as you rubbed your eyes and started getting ready to face the day. Something on the chair by your desk caught your eye and you paused when you realized it was Eddie’s leather jacket and Steve’s big green long sleeve shirt he had worn last night. Taped to the collar was a note:
“Baby, 
We thought it only fair to leave a piece of us with you since we totally stole your panties ;). 
-E.M. & S.H.
You giggled as you threw on their clothes, reveling in the smell of them before quickly throwing on a pair of jeans and running out the front door. 
When you got to school you met Maze at your locker who whined, advising you there was last day of school assembly. 
“Oh, come on. We’re almost done.”, you smiled as you grabbed her arm. 
“Whose jacket is that?”, she mused as you both headed towards the gym. 
“Mine. Why?”
“No reason. I could swear I saw Eddie Munson wearing a jacket just like that.”
You roll your eyes at your friend as your grin grows. Your friends on the basketball team wave you both over and you two hastily settle in. You scan the area wondering if they were here already. Steve saunters in right as the bell rings pausing in front of Tommy without looking at him as his former friend grins wickedly. 
Eddie slides in right as the teachers are closing the doors, his eyes catching yours and following them to Steve’s stiff frame. 
You breathe a sigh of relief as the metalhead pats his back and whispers something to him before guiding him up the risers where they sit together during the assembly. 
As soon as it ends, you bounce up towards them not caring about the people around you or if you even should. 
“Are you okay?”
Eddie nudges Steve’s shoulder. “Yeah, just Tommy and Carol being dicks. Right, Harrington?”
“Y/N, we have to get to class.” Masie comes up beside you to grab your hand. 
“Hey, Masie Collins? I’ve never actually met you. I’m—”
“Eddie Munson. Yup. I know who you are. Steve Harrington to. Now come on.” She yanks on your hand but you still hesitate, seeing that stoic expression still painted on Steve’s face. You don’t know if it’s something you should do but your brain said you had to as you threw your arms around him. His shoulders relaxed under your grip and when you released him, he gently smiled at you. 
“Thank you.”
You return his smile with one of your own as you finally turn and climb down the risers. 
“Hey Y/N! Love the jacket by the way. I have one just like it!” Eddie winks at you as you and your friend disappear.  ##############
@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @local-stoner-bitch
@katethetank @danandphilequalsmemes @luna-munson83
@sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @bexreastoomuch
@chelebelletx @shayeddie @emmalee-01 @anaibis
@wroteclassicaly @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes
@siriuslysmoking
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candyflossfairy · 1 year
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𝑚𝑟. 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑛 (𝑒.𝑚. 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)
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𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: Dad!Eddie x Teacher!Reader. It's that time of year for parent-teacher conferences, and you finally meet Ronnie's father, Mr. Munson.
𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 18+ only, unprotected sex (p in v), slight choking, Jacobs Ladder piercings.
𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 3.7k
𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠: Eddie manip by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple . My work for @newlips milestone of love!
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Your first year of teaching was going by pretty well. The students were sweet, fun, and for the most part, they listened. Of course, sitting in a classroom all day was tough work for second graders, they got a little restless after lunch. You didn’t mind it, though. There was a lot of gift giving that made it all better. Notes, drawings, coloring book pages, apples, even one gave you a glass apple with the words World’s Best Teacher! on it that you kept on your desk. It was sweet, really. All of them were, in their own ways.
Even the ones that acted out more than others.
Like Lucy Carver who had a knack for acting like a princess and bribing others with lunch money to do classwork for her. 
Or her step-brother, Ronnie Munson, who would pick on his sister relentlessly and talk loudly in class for attention. You knew it was for attention, because you saw who picked up Lucy every day and who picked up Ronnie. He was missing out on some motherly love. You hated Chrissy Carver for that. There were days when she did pick him up, but most of the time it was Mr. Munson, or Wayne Munson, Ronnie’s great uncle that would pick him up. 
You hugged Ronnie a little tighter than the other kids. You made sure he did his classwork and helped him when he needed it because of it. Not to say you had a favorite, you just knew which kids needed an extra push. It was sad that at such a young age he felt like he wasn’t getting enough love from his mother, even if he didn’t know that’s what he was feeling.
He was a cute kid, too. Looked like a carbon copy of his dad—dark curls and chocolate eyes. It was better that way, you thought. When he was older he wouldn’t look in the mirror and see his mom staring back at him.
It was parent-teacher conference day. You were nervous for your first one, but your colleagues assured you that there wasn’t much to be nervous about. Some parents were dicks when it came to their child’s grades, but for the most part it was manageable. Plus you got a better insight on what parents helped their kids at home, and which ones left them to their devices.
“Lucy is doing great as far as her social skills. She’s developing them very well. She also has a talent for math—on the days she decides to do it.” You explained to Mr. and Mrs. Carver, “I think a little more encouragement from the two of you and she will be on top of her schoolwork more.” 
“So you’re saying it’s our fault?” Mr. Carver spat.
“Jason—” Mrs. Carver chastised.
“I’m not saying that at all, Mr. Carver.” You said calmly, giving him a smile, “But I do think restricting the amount of money you give to your child will keep her from paying others to do her schoolwork for her. She’s a very smart girl when she applies herself.” You continued.
“Thank you very much for your time. We will keep that in mind.” Mrs. Carver said, as they stood up. She picked up the progress report and the two of them stepped outside.
You sighed, pressing a hand to your face.
“I feel that way after interacting with them too,”
You shot up straight, a soft flush to your cheeks. 
“No, really, they can be pretty awful.” Mr. Munson stepped inside, shutting the classroom door behind him. 
“Is… Mrs. Carver not joining us?” You asked, clearing your throat as you shuffled your papers before looking for Ronnie’s. 
“Chrissy? Nah, she tries to forget that we both exist as much as she can.” Mr. Munson told you with a playful grin, as he grabbed a chair on the other side of your desk. He turned it around before sitting in it backwards, his legs spread widely and his crotch on display from the wide hole in the back of it.
You kept your eyes on his face, even though it was in your peripheral. Mr. Munson was attractive, covered in tattoos, a labret piercing above his chin, one in his eyebrow. He also had muscles that strained against his shirt from many days working at the mechanic shop in town. You hadn’t been there since you’d moved to Hawkins, but you did know he worked there.
Single mom’s talked about him quite often. He had a little bit of a reputation for fixing problems that they’d had. 
Not to mention, he was a bit older than you — not by that much. He was in his late 20s, you were in your mid, it wasn’t bad. 
You didn’t know why you were thinking about this. You were having a parent-teacher conference about his son. It had nothing to do with the fact that you hadn’t had sex since you’d moved here. It didn’t have to do with the fact that Mr. Munson was too sexy for his own good.
You swallowed, and looked down at Ronnie’s progress report.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” You responded. 
“Nah, no biggie. I’m more upset for Ronnie’s sake than my own. She’s been a bitch since she married Carver.” He shrugged.
You snorted a chuckle at that, trying to hide it. You’d seen how snooty she was, too. You couldn’t imagine her ever being any other way.
“It’s true. She used to be a sweet little thing. Loved me and our boy. Carver’s…persuasive. I’m just glad we split up before Ronnie could remember much. He doesn’t remember her like that. I think it makes it hurt less — sorry, didn’t mean to like — spill on you. Anyways, how’s Ronnie doing in class?” 
You swallowed back your thoughts. So, you’d been right. Mrs. Carver didn’t care for her son much. 
“He needs a little extra pushing from me from time to time. He does like to aggravate Lucy and awful lot and cause disruptions, but he’s been getting better since the school year first started.” You started off, looking over his progress report. You highlighted a few grades and slid the paper over to Mr. Munson.
“These zeros are homework assignments he never turned in. It’s not particularly hurting his overall grade, but if you can get him to do them, I’ll give him seventy-five percent credit for them. I know single parenting is much harder than it looks on the outside, so I’m willing to work with you, and him, to make sure he’s able to move up next year.” You smiled at him kindly.
“We appreciate that.” Mr. Munson nodded, looking at the report, “These aren’t hard assignments either, huh? I guess they just got lost in the fray of things.” He laughed, before his eyes flicked to you, “Though, it’ll be a shame that I don’t get to see your smiling face every morning after he moves up.” 
Your cheeks flared pink at that, and you brushed some hair behind your ear. You couldn’t tell if he was flirting or not, but… God, you hoped he was. 
“Well, I’ll still be here next year… so there’s no shame in dropping by to see me.” You smiled at him, folding your hands on your desk.
“No? Wouldn’t be weird if I… came by and saw you without my kid?” He asked, grinning back.
“Definitely not.” You hummed.
Mr. Munson looked at the time, before standing. “Our time slot is up.” He mused, turning the chair back around the right way. 
You bit your lip, before standing. “My last one ends at eight.” You said quickly.
“Oh? Did you…want me to come back?” His brows lifted.
You nodded.
“Alright, I’ll see you in an hour.”
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“Thank you, Mr. Harrington. Goodnight.” You shut your door after your final meeting and bellowed a sigh, closing your eyes for a moment as you leaned back against the door. It had been a long day, and for the most part people hadn’t been awful, but there had been a select few who had been awful.
There was a soft knock on your door, and you opened it back up.
“Oh, Mr. Munson —” You had forgotten, so wrapped up in everything, you had forgotten he was going to come back. Your cheeks flushed again and you stepped aside to let him into your classroom. 
He kicked the door shut behind him, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Did you not expect me to come back?” He asked, grinning a bit.
“No—it’s not that.” You laughed, “I just. You know.” You shrugged. “I’m glad you’re back.” You rubbed your arm nervously. 
“Yeah?” He chuckled, stepping closer to you, “And why’s that?” 
You were almost nose to nose with him. You could feel his breath fanning over your skin. You swallowed, thickly.
“Mr. Munson—” 
“You can call me Eddie.” He cut you off.
“Eddie—” You started, “Is Ronnie taken care of for the night?” You had to make sure.
“Took him to his great uncle Wayne’s. He loves it over there. He’s set.” He gently lifted a hand and brushed some of your hair back.
You wet your lips, and his eyes flicked down to them. 
“Why don’t we go back to my place?” He suggested, his hand gently resting on your jaw. He rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip and you couldn’t ignore the warmth that flooded between your legs at that. 
You nodded, numbly, and turned to gather your things. He watched you from afar as you placed all of your paperwork into a binder and shoved it, and your laptop, haphazardly into your school bag.
“Wanna meet me there, or ride with me?” He asked, winking at you.
“Either is fine.” You cleared your throat.
“You like motorcycles?” He chuckled. You raised your brows before nodding.
Fuck, that was hot. He had a motorcycle? He should just breed you now.
You let that thought wash over you as you followed him out of the school, stopping only to put your bag into your car before swallowing thickly as Eddie handed you a helmet.
“Safety first.” He winked at you, pulling his long hair up into a bun at the base of his neck. You tried to not think to hard about him putting his hair up to eat you out, but it wasn’t easy to ignore. 
You slipped the helmet on and clipped it into place. He straddled the motorcycle. 
“Alright, throw your leg over like I did and hold on tight.” He grinned at you.
“What happened to ‘safety first’?” You asked, raising a brow at the fact that he didn’t have a helmet on.
“For you, sweetheart. Not for me. I like to live dangerously.” He laughed loudly.
You shook your head in amusement as you took his hand, throwing your leg over the back of the bike. Surprisingly, you didn’t fall on your face or stumble, and settled into the seat behind him.
You wrapped your arms around his waist and held on tight.
He was warm, body toned. You couldn’t wait to see what it looked like naked.
He turned on the bike and kicked up the kickstand, revving the engine a few times before he took off out of the parking lot.
You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up in you as he raced down the street. It had been a while since you’d done anything fun. Moving to Hawkins had been a bit of a poison to your social life — sure, you had the other teachers at Hawkins Elementary, but most of them were much older than you and had lived there their entire lives.
He pulled up to the only apartment complex in Hawkins; a newer building you had been told. They looked fairly nice from the outside, and you couldn’t wait to see the inside. 
Eddie pulled into a parking spot and kicked the stand back down, shutting the bike off. 
He helped you off of the bike and tilted his head towards the stairs in front of you. “Just up those.” He told you.
You followed him up to the second floor and he unlocked the door first door you came to, letting you in.
“Home sweet home. It’s not much, but it’s ours.” Eddie smiled, shrugging his jacket off. He hung it on a chair in the small dining area and stepped into the kitchen. 
“You like beer?” He asked.
“Yeah, a beer would be nice.” You nodded as you looked around.
The front area was a decent sized living room, connected to the small dining room that held a small round table with four chairs. The kitchen was connected to that. There was a short hallway right in front of you. You had to assume the bathroom and bedrooms were back that way.
“Here,” Eddie handed you the beer, popping his open before sitting on the couch. “Make yourself comfy.” He said, propping his boots on the edge of a beat up coffee table.
You followed his suit, sitting next to him on the couch. You crossed one leg over the other, popping your beer open.
You took a sip. It was cheap, but it would take the edge off of whatever nerves you were feeling.
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, just quietly sipping from your beers. It wasn’t awkward persae, it was just… different? You both knew what you were here for, so you weren’t sure why he was playing worlds best host.
You just wanted him to fuck you already.
You downed your beer in the next second, placing it on the coffee table.
“Woah, want another one?” Eddie asked.
“No,” You said, and feeling a spur of confidence, you uncrossed your legs and threw one over his lap, straddling his legs.
He smirked up at you, letting his legs fall from the coffee table. 
“Hi,” He said, learning around you to put his beer down.
“Hi,” You responded, smiling down at him.
His hands gently rested on your waist, pinkies on each side pushing up your shirt to feel your skin. 
You reached forward, and brushed his hair off of his shoulder. 
“Kissing, or no?” You asked, your voice a soft whisper.
“Why wouldn’t I want kissing?” He chuckled.
You shrugged. “Some guys think it’s too intimate.” 
His brow furrowed. “Sex is intimate.” He laughed.
You shared a smile with him before leaning in to kiss him. His lips were softer than you had expected, the stubble on his lip scratching your skin softly. You didn’t mind it, really. He was…so fucking hot.
He nipped your lip softly, and you parted them for him, allowing his tongue to invade your mouth. He tasted like beer, and cigarettes. You didn’t mind it as much as you thought. However, maybe it was because it was him. 
You brushed the thoughts from your mind, biting at his bottom lip, your teeth lightly clanking against the piercing there. 
Tattooed hands pushed up the sides of your shirt, fingers squeezing your sides, pinkies slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You could feel them toying with the edge of your underwear, too. 
You broke the kiss for a breath, panting softly as his mouth made its way to your neck.
“No hickies.” You said quickly, “I don’t need the kids asking questions.”
Eddie chuckled against your skin. 
“Bedroom?” He asked, nipping softly at your pulsepoint.
You nodded; and up you went. He had lifted you like you were nothing and he carried you down the hallway. He dropped you on the bed and pulled his shirt off, displaying more tattooed skin. He climbed onto the bed, pressing a knee between your legs as his hand cupped the top of your head, his elbow resting near your shoulder as he kissed you, his entire body covering yours.
You moaned into his mouth as his knee rubbed against your mound. You reached between you to press your hand against his half-hard cock in his jeans. He responded with a soft groan.
You stayed like that for a long while, teasing each other, him with his knee and you with your hand, your lips never leaving one anothers. 
It had almost became a game. See who would last the longest before they asked to go further.
You were losing. Your hips were guiding themselves up against your will, rubbing your clothed pussy against his thigh. You weren’t getting much friction from this, but what you were getting was making you soaking wet.
You popped the button of his jeans open, and reached past his boxers as a concession. He had won.
You gasped at what you felt in his pants, breaking the kiss.
“What?” He asked, his voice deep and husky as he continued to rub his knee against you.
“You’re—”
“Yeah, I know.” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss at your neck again. 
He hooked his fingers in your shirt and you lifted up to let him pull it off, still a little in shock at what you felt.
His hands were then working at your pants, unzipping them and dragging them, and your panties off in one fell swoop.
His pants were next to go, and you were both naked, but—
Your eyes met his cock. It was large, the tip red and wet with precum… Your fingers gently brushed across the bottom of the shaft. Nestled there in a row were five bars. He had his cock pierced.
You swallowed thickly, wondering what it felt like for those piercings to be inside you. Especially with how big he was.
“Doesn’t hurt — at least no one’s complained.” He chuckled, “And it’s been fully healed for a few years, so nothing to worry about on my end.” 
“You did them all at the same time?” You asked, a little shocked.
“Yeah, hurt like hell. But looks fuckin’ hot, don’t it?” He grinned.
You nodded.
He grasped himself in his hand and slapped it against your pussy, making your insides clench tightly. With his other hand he spread your lips and started tapping again, this time against your clit. Your legs jolted softly with each tap, your lips parted in a soft moan.
“Damn, you’re so fuckin’ wet.” He sighed, rubbing his cock against you. “You on the pill?” 
“Yeah,” You nodded.
“Good.” 
Neither one of you needed for you to get pregnant right now. That was unsaid between you.
He tapped your pussy a few more times, before lining himself up and pushing in.
Your back arched, a low moan leaving you. Your eyes fluttered and your head tipped back.
“That’s it… that’a’girl…take it.” He sighed into the warm air between you. 
“Fuck, Mr. Munson..” You moaned.
He laughed softly. “You like callin’ me that? Alright, honey. We can pretend I’m a lot older than you. Bet you flick that pretty little clit of yours at home thinkin’ bout me and the other dads, hm?”
Your cheeks flushed, but you nodded. There was just something so fucking hot about fathers to you. You wanted to have someone like that in your life. Someone to raise kids with you. 
“Say it.” He grunted, as he pressed fully into you.
“Ah—! I touch myself thinking about you!” You gasped, your legs circling tightly around his waist.
That’s not how he wanted it, though. He grabbed you tightly by your thighs and wrenched your legs up until they were on his shoulders. He scooted closer to you so that your hips were angled up.
Now, now he was impossibly deeper.
You moaned helplessly, grasping at the sheets.
“You got a pretty little cunt here for me. Soaking wet and tight, mmm…” He sighed, pulling out and thrusting back in. 
He found a medium pace that you both seemed to like for now, his hand sliding up your thigh and squeezing. 
“You like being choked, baby?” He asked breathily, his free hand brushing up your chest.
You nodded, your lips parted. You couldn’t make words come out right now, you were fucking gone.
His fingers circled around your throat, fingers pressing into your pulse point. Your back arched higher, your head tipping back as you moaned out.
“Fuck, you’re a sweet little thing..” He groaned, speeding up his pace.
“Mr. Munson—!” You whined out, his cock pressing over and over into that spongey spot inside of you.
“Yeah, baby. Say it.” He chuckled.
There was something so inherently dirty about this, even though it was all legal. It was probably because you taught his son at school, really. You couldn’t think about it now, not with his cock pressing into your gspot, and his piercings rubbing up against your walls with every thrust.
“Mr. Munson!” You moaned out again, your hips lifting higher with every thrust. 
You could feel your orgasm growing, the heat in your belly getting hotter and hotter until the rubber band snapped, your cunt clamping down on his cock and spasming as you cried out helplessly. 
He released your throat, his thrusts never stopping. He groaned, and a few moments later he was pulling out and spilling his seed on your belly.
You were both panting heavily as he dropped onto the bed next to you. 
You laid there in silence for a long while, your insides burning from overuse. It had been a while since you’d been fucked, especially by such a thick cock.
Fuck if you didn’t feel good, though.
“Here,” Eddie said, leaning over to grab you a few tissues.
“Thanks.” You hummed, sitting up slightly to clean the cum off of your belly. You tossed them into the trashcan nearby as Eddie stepped across the hallway into what you now knew was the bathroom.
You waited for him to finish cleaning up before you went in yourself, relieving your bladder and cleaning up. 
When you came back into the room, Eddie had laid out a shirt for you on the bed.
“You can stay over. Wayne is supposed to take Ronnie to school, so he shouldn’t be here in the morning.” He said, smiling.
You nodded, pulling his shirt on before climbing into the bed.
Eddie flicked off the lights before climbing in after you, his arm wrapping around you waist. He pulled you close, your back flush against his chest.
You felt safe that night, and got the best rest you’d had since you moved to Hawkins.
The next morning you were awoken by the front door slamming loudly.
“Daddy!” 
Oh, shit.
864 notes · View notes
berryhobii · 7 months
Note
Hello! I hope you are doing well! I love your work and I think what you are doing is amazing, thank you so much! I was wondering if you could write a drabble about YN and namjoon where she is jealous because someone is flirting with her man, but joon does not realise, so it ends up in really steamy sex where namjoon reasures reader she is it for him!
Thanks for your request! I really hope you like this!
~
There was no doubt that Namjoon was the ideal guy for a lot of people. He was the kind of person you’d be proud to take home to your parents.
Educated. Well spoken. Clean. Polite. A gentleman.
He was just wonderful. The absolute perfect man for you.
And only you.
Don’t get it wrong, you were very secure in your relationship with Namjoon. You’ve been together since college and were still going strong all these years later. Through college and your first steps in your respective careers, you two have always been joined at the hip. Supporting one another through every obstacle and loving each other through every milestone of your relationship.
There was no doubt in either of your mind’s that you two were meant for each other. It was wildly obvious that you were obsessed with each other.
But despite all of that, there were still some people out there who just didn’t know how to take a hint.
Namjoon had told you of an art show that one of his old friend’s was hosting and of course, you would be coming as his plus one. Supporting your man was very important to you and being there for him just made him feel so loved.
So you both got dressed to the nines—him in a sharp suit and you in a gorgeous floor length dress that made him want to marry you all over again.
The event was lovely, the art timeless and innovative, and the conversation both hilarious and inquisitive. Both you and Namjoon were in your element.
After chatting for a little while and browsing the art, you went to the bathroom to relieve yourself and touch up your makeup.
“I’ll be right back.” You said in Namjoon’s ear, taking your purse from his lap. He almost always carried it for you since you’d grow tired of it after a while. Especially if it didn’t have a strap.
He hummed and nodded, accepting a quick kiss from you before you stood to your feet to walk off. His eyes diligently watched you the entire time until you disappeared. Good thing he could see the opening to the bathroom from his seat. That lessened his nerves just a tad. He honestly hated when you weren’t in his eyesight. Not that you couldn’t protect yourself but he just always felt protective over you.
After you were done in the bathroom, you made your way back to Namjoon. A few people stopped you to chat, admiring your wedding ring and exchanging information for future business conquests. By the time you made it back to where Namjoon was sitting, your feet were killing you and you were about ready to call it a night.
As you caught sight of your giant of a husband, you paused in your tracks at the current scene going on in front of you.
Namjoon was surrounded by three people, 2 of which you’ve never seen before—2 men and a woman. The men were standing just to Namjoon’s right, laughing at something that was said and the woman was to Namjoon’s left, talking about something that you assumed was dumb.
But all you could focus on was her hand that was placed on his bicep. And did she just squeeze it?! The only person who could feel him up was you! Who the hell did she think she was? Does she not see the wedding band around his finger? An undeniable sign that he’s already spoken for?
Knowing Namjoon for all these years, you knew he wasn’t always the type to voice his uncomfortablenesses. He didn’t like making scenes over small things. You could tell he was the slightest bit uncomfortable with her hand touching him, judging by the way he kept lifting his arm to adjust his glasses so that she’d stop. But then she’d just laugh again and place her arm right back on his arm.
You couldn’t help the little feeling bubbling inside of you. It surprised you a little, honestly.
It wasn’t really jealousy though. No, that wasn’t it.
You weren’t jealous.
You were…….ticked off.
Straightening your face, you fixed your posture before strutting right up to them. Namjoon caught sight of you immediately, his eyes brightened and a smile spreading across his face, those kissable dimples indenting his cheeks. Goodness, he was so adorable. You just wanted to kiss his face and smother him with love.
He stood to his feet, her hand dropping from his arm again. Good.
“Darling, you’re back.”
You smiled lovingly at him, fluttering your eyelashes in a way that made his heart soar.
“I am. You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Placing your hand on his arm, the same place she had, you leaned into his embrace but not before making quick eye contact with the woman behind him. She simply raised an eyebrow which ticked you off just a little more.
“Oh yeah. These are some of my old friends.” He moved so that he could introduce you and so that the others could fully see you. “Everyone, this is my wife, y/n.”
After introducing you to everyone, you learned Ms. Touchy Touchy’s name was Yui. Apparently, she was one of the people Namjoon studied abroad with during freshman year. That was before you even met him.
Namjoon offered you his seat but Yui jumped up from hers. “No she can sit here. Those shoes look painful. Cheaper ones normally don’t have support.”
Oh this bitch.
“Yeah. I guess my Jimmy Choo’s are cheaper than most of my shoes.” You shot back with a smile, stepping forward to take her seat. “I like your shoes too. I think I saw them when I was shopping for phone cases on Shein.”
Sucking her teeth, she moved to sit on the other side of Namjoon, placing a hand on his arm once again.
“So Namjoon, we were planning on grabbing some drinks later. You should join us. We can catch up some more. Unless you’re still as much of a lightweight as you were in college.” She leaned forward a little more, the opening of her blouse revealing her cleavage.
Namjoon lifted his hand to touch adjust his glasses again but her hand remained firm.
“Oh uh….” You could see the nerves in his face.
You decided to intercept before it got too far. “We can’t. We have to be up early to meet our friends for brunch, don’t we baby?” You lifted your own hand to place on his chest. It just so happened to be the hand with your enormous wedding ring on it. Her eyes caught it, just the hint of a sneer twitching at her lips.
Namjoon glanced over at you and then to her. “Yup! That’s right. We have brunch. Maybe some other time.”
Or maybe never.
“My love, I’m actually really tired. Don’t you think it’s time to go home?” You batted your eyelashes at him, bottom lip jutting out in a pout.
He kissed your temple again. “Of course baby. Let’s go say goodbye to Lee and then we can go.” He stood and held out his hand for you to take. “We’re gonna go guys but we should catch up soon.” He gave Jackson and Joshua a quick guy hug before turning to Yujin and giving her a side hug.
“You should take my number down, Namjoon. We could catch up…..privately.” Her suggestive tone made you want to snatch her right out of those cheap shoes.
“His phone is dead. He always forgets to charge it. Come on baby. There’s Lee. It was nice meeting you guys and seeing you again Jackson.”
~
Once you and Namjoon got back home, he went to take a shower while you sat at your vanity to remove your makeup and take the pins out of your updo.
You couldn’t stop thinking about that Yui chick. What was her deal? Commenting on your shoes? Ha! Your credit card didn’t have a limit. You could buy every pair of shoes in her closet a thousand times over. And being all touchy feeling with your husband. It’s like she was asking to get taken out at the kneecaps.
The bathroom door opened, steam billowing out and your sexy husband stepped out. Water dripped from his hair and down his pecs, a towel hung low on his hips and another in his hands that he was drying his hair with.
Your sharp eyes followed him across the room as he walked over to the closet to pick out a pair of boxers. The thick muscles in his back contracted and shifted with every movement, light red marks stretched across the honey kissed skin, remnants of your love making from this morning. And you could still feel the bruises his fingers indented in your hips when he was giving you the back shots of the century.
Namjoon was yours. All yours. Pushy women like that didn’t make you nervous.
“What’s bothering you?”
You blinked out of your daze, just now realizing that Namjoon was crouched down next to you.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
He placed his hand over yours in your lap, his palm slightly cold from coming from the shower.
“You were quiet the entire ride home. And you didn’t come into the bathroom with me to have a conversation about dinner like you always do. What’s wrong?”
You couldn’t fight the smile that rose to your face. He knew you so well.
Sighing, you reached out a hand to cup his cheek. “It’s just, that Yvette chick kept touching you and I could see you were uncomfortable. You only fix your glasses that much when you’re uncomfortable.”
“You mean Yui?”, he asked.
“Yeah.” You nodded. “I didn’t like how she kept touching you. Then that comment on my shoes? Ugh.”
Namjoon thought you were adorable.
“Baby, are you jealous?”
You sputtered, scoffing and waving your hand around. “I rebuke that, of course I’m not jealous. I just don’t like people touching what’s mine.” The hand that was cupping his cheek went to grip his chin, tilting his chin up so that your dark eyes could lock with him.
“You’re mine. I’m the only one that can touch your arms like that.”
He smirked, lowkey loving how slightly possessive you are. Seeing you get all pouty over some girl touching him made him remember one of the many reasons he was head over heels for you.
“Oh yeah?”
~
“When will you learn you’re the only one I want? Huh? Fuck, you think I’d let this sweet little pussy go?”
You could barely hear him. The force of his thrusts was knocking your cute little brain all around. You’re pretty sure you just forgot your name but why did you need yours when you knew his?
“Na……nam….” Damn, you could barely get his name out.
Your moans and whimpers were only pushing him further. He’d fuck you until his cock was imprinted in your slick walls, until there was no amount of doubt left in you.
Grabbing both of your ass cheeks in his hands, he pushed his entire cock into you, the head of it resting right against your cervix. Your mouth dropped, hands scrambling to grab onto anything only to meet the mattress since you’ve already ripped the sheets and pillows off the bed.
You tried to run from him but he held firm. “No.” He growled in your ear. “Tell me who I belong to. Tell me.” One of his hands went around to your clit, pressing into harshly and rubbing quick circles on it.
You shook your head, mouth dropping and eyes crossing as he pushed you to your nth orgasm of the evening.
His hips started again, this time even faster, his fingers working your clit and stimulating the little nub past the point of overstimulation.
“Tell me. Who do I belong to?”
With drool dripping off the corners of your mouth, you let out a strained, “Me….”
“Again.” His hand that wasn’t on your clit placed 3 slaps in succession on your ass.
“Me!”
His grin was almost animalistic, ego flaring at hearing you moan out your claim on him.
“That’s right. I’m yours. All yours. Don’t forget.”
In a flash, you were flipped over on your back, feet pushed up to your ears. You instinctively brought your arms around your knees to keep yourself folded.
Namjoon bit his lip. Why would he let go?
Grabbing his cock, he lined back up with your abused cunt before pushing back into your dripping heat. Your head repeatedly hit the bed, the feeling of him filling you back up too much to handle.
The pace he set should be considered criminal, his own orgasm close.
He couldn’t take his eyes off your pleasured face. Your eyes were hooded and unfocused, your plump lips wet with drool and his kisses, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. You were so beautiful. He’d be damned if he ever let some old friend he barely paid attention to make you feel like he didn’t want you. He only wanted you. That ring on your finger, this house, all those Chanel purses—they were all for you. He meant what he said in his vows. You were the only person he had his eyes on and you would be for the rest of your lives.
If he needed to fuck it into you every now and again, he’d happily oblige.
Reaching out, he gripped your face, squishing your cheeks and making your lips purse. He leaned down to whisper, “I’m all yours baby. I promise. I love you and only you, okay?”
You knew that. Of course you did.
“Now cum all over my cock.”
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cameronspecial · 6 months
Text
Before The Last Petal Falls (Part 4)
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Substance and Alcohol Use, Talk about Addiction, Swearing and Toxic Relationship Signs.
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.1K
Summary: Y/N takes the first steps to move on and she finds Rafe in a compromising position.
Masterlist
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The Outer Banks isn’t famous for their food selection, so Y/N decides to take Cole to The Wreck. “This place doesn’t look like much, but a family friend owns the place so it’s good,” she promises to Cole, walking through the door he holds open for her. He nods and places his hand on the small of her back, “It’s okay. I like the mom-and-pop vibe of the place. It’s cute.” Kiara spots Y/N easily and squeals. “Y/N, I heard you are back! I’m a little offended that you didn’t come sooner,” Kie tackles her in a hug then spots Cole. “Oh, he’s cute. I approve. I’ll give you the back seat near the window. It’s the most romantic one.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. Y/N laughs at the girl’s comments. The couple is led toward the table and he lets her sit on the booth side facing the front door. “The hostess here is very friendly. I like her,” he jokes as he settles into his seat. Y/N roars with laughter, “Yeah, that’s Kiara. We’re friends. She can get a little excitable.’ Cole chuckles with her. “So what should I eat?”
Y/N smiles at him and points on the menu to her favourite meal. “I love the po’ boys. I normally go for the oyster one, but the shrimp one is good too. Fun fact, these were only supposed to be a special item for the summer menu, but I begged Kiara’s parents, who own this place, to keep it on the menu and I guess I am a very good negotiator.” Cole looks over the choices and nods, “Ohh, that does sound like it would taste good. And you are a very good negotiator, I heard the story about how you negotiated with the people at one of your Canadian venues to have a poutine bar at the signing.”
“Wow, you heard about that? I did do that because who wouldn’t want a poutine bar at their first Canadian signing? The poutine was good in case you were wondering. One of the best decisions I made on the tour. Right after giving out free devil horns and angel wings at each venue. It was so fun seeing everyone wearing them in person and on social media. So how’s work going?” 
“I’m slowly making my way to the top. I would do even better if I could get a certain OBX native to sign on with us.”
“Oh, so that’s the real reason why you wanted this date. I see how it is.”
“I’m joking. I’m joking. You know that. It really is going well, though. The fact that they trusted me to scope out this place is a good sign.”
“So if they do open up an office here, would you be the one to come here?”
“Uh, yeah. I would probably be the one to do that. Have you ever thought about moving back home?”
“Uh, I love this place, but I don’t think my forever home is here. My whole life I’ve dreamed of living in London. Ever since I went to London with my mom when I was younger to check on the publishing of one of her books. It was absolutely magical and plus, I’m already setting up shop there a little more permanently with my bookstore.”
“Right, I heard about your bookstore. I hope I’m going to be on the guest list for the grand opening.”
“Of course, you’ll be first on my list. I promise.”
The rest of the date is spent joking and talking about various things. She honestly had such a good time with him that she forgot that their first date so many years ago was not a great start. It made her forget that she once couldn’t get the idea of Rafe outside of her head. Maybe it really is time for her to move on. 
——
Why she keeps letting Mason drag her to different places is beyond her. She doesn’t want to be at Kelce’s party right now. She hasn’t had a chance to see him yet since she came back but this is not how she imagines their reunion. “Y/N, I was beginning to think you didn’t want to see me,” Kelce yells over the music, giving her a big hug. Y/N returns the hug, “It’s good to see you too, Kelce. Nice party.” “You don’t really mean that, but it means a lot that you are here. Even if I know Mace brought you here.” Y/N shakes her head and lets Kelce get back to greeting other people. She moves towards the kitchen to get some snacks and something to sip on. Mason ran off to talk to friends, so she makes small talk with people she knew, who passed through the kitchen. 
With all the sipping she does, nature starts to eventually call and she makes her way to the upstairs bathroom in Kelce’s room. She knows only his closest friends would dare to go up there. She enters the closed bathroom without knocking because she wasn’t expecting anyone to be in the bathroom. However, she is surprised to see Rafe in there already. She is outraged at the activities she finds him doing up here all by himself. Rafe is leaning over the counter with his nose dangerously close to a white powder substance. He quickly bolts upright and uses the back of his hand to wipe the powder residue around his nose. “What the fuck are you doing?” she yells with anger. The last time she had seen him, he had given up weed because he knew how she felt about drugs. She couldn’t believe he escalated to something stronger.
When she found out about Mason smoking weed, she wasn’t thrilled, but she did research to find out that there was a low risk of drying from a weed overdose. It gave her some peace of mind, but she made both Mason and Rafe, once she found out he picked up the habit too, promise her that they wouldn’t try anything else. They agreed because they knew how terrified she was of losing some after she went to a funeral for one of her mother’s friends, who had died of an overdose. Even though they broke up, she could not believe that Rafe would go against the promise he made fifteen-year-old her. “This is none of your business, Y/L/N,” he spits out, moving in front of the counter, subconsciously, to hide the drugs from her. 
“Rafe, you broke your promise. You and Mason both promised me that you wouldn’t do anything other than weed.”
“Don’t worry, Mace isn’t doing this shit too. He doesn’t know that I’m doing it either. I just needed something to make me forget.” 
“Right now, he is the last thing I’m worried about. What could you possibly need to forget about so much?” Her anger turns to concern as she can see the pain hidden in his eyes. She may not like that he is now doing the drug, but she is slowly piecing the puzzle together. The steps she takes forward are small, as though she is approaching a fawn, because she fears he is going to run from her. He lets her place her hand onto his bicep as he looks at her with blown pupils. “Like you need to ask that question,” he grumbles, moving out of her reach. “No, I guess you don’t. But you aren’t allowed to come back after all these years and pretend like you care.”
“Rafe, I’m not pretending. I really am concerned about you.”
“Don’t lie to me. You don’t care about my feelings. Because if you did, you never would’ve come back. You never would’ve stopped talking to me. And you never would’ve broken up with me.”
She begins to feel frustrated and attacked in this conversation, which causes tears to fall down her cheek. “Really? I broke up with you because I care about you. I sacrificed my future with you because I cared for YOU!” 
Rafe shakes his head and lets out a low chuckle. “No, you sacrificed our love so you can stop feeling guilty.” He doesn’t say another word as he pushes off the counter he was leaning on and storms out of the room. Y/N sits on the toilet and lets her tears stream down her face. 
—— 
She couldn’t stay at the party any longer, so she called Cole and asked him if he could pick her up. He was there about thirty minutes later in a rental car. She gets in without a hitch and he immediately notices her sadness. “Are you okay?” Y/N gives him a tight-lipped smile, “Can we go somewhere else first, please?” Cole nods and starts the car. He takes her to a McDonald’s parking lot. She feels a pain in her chest at the memory of the last time she went to an OBX McDonald’s with a boy. “Thought you might be hungry, so how about I get us something to eat and then you can pour your heart out to me after?” he promises, getting out of the car and into the establishment.
A few minutes later, he jogs out of the restaurant with a bag and tray in his hand. He puts the paper bag on the dashboard and hands over a McFlurry first. She gives him a questioning look, “Dessert first?” “As I like to say, it all ends up in the same place, so why does it matter what you eat first,” he says with a massive grin on his face. Y/N giggles and digs into the frozen treat. She eats some more of her ice cream before talking, “Rafe is doing cocaine.”
“Rafe… as in your ex, that Rafe?”
“Yeah, I saw him doing it at the party and we got into an argument. He knows how I feel about drugs. I can’t believe he would turn towards it.” 
“I can. I mean, I don’t condone it but I can understand why. When I was doing my A-levels, my brother died and I turned to alcohol. I know the pull he feels towards anything that could make him forget,” he begins to explain. “It isn’t healthy how we choose to forget about our problems, but I know how much he must have been hurting to decide to use the drug. You have to understand that he isn’t doing it to hurt you though, he’s doing it because a part of him is hurting.”
She can see the vulnerability in Cole’s eyes and reaches over the centre console to give him a hug, “Thank you. It made me feel better, but I just can’t help but feel guilty about being the one to cause him the pain.”
“I know, but I also know that you didn’t mean to hurt him. Whatever reason you have for breaking up with him, you thought you were doing the right thing. And this may come off as a little selfish, but if you didn’t break up with him, then we wouldn’t be in this car right now. So I am very grateful for that,” he whispers, bringing his face closer to her. She smiles at him and closes the gap between them. 
——
Rafe had made the poor choice of driving while he was high; all he was focused on was getting back home and away from her sad expression. His family was away for the weekend, so it was only Blythe waiting for him to get back. He enters the house with a loud bang coming from the front door. He stays at the front entrance and paces around the room. His hands run through his hair, tugging at the end of the strands. Blythe comes down the stairs wearing just his t-shirt, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“Baby, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?” she asks, walking over to him. He turns at her with angry eyes, “Everything is fine, Blythe.” She places her hand on his bicep and rubs it soothingly. “Really? You don’t seem to be.” 
Rafe harshly yanks his arm out of her touch, “I said that I’m fine, Blythe. Geez, why do you have to be so nosy all the time?” His words hold so much venom that she doesn’t miss it. She goes up the stairs and turns back towards him halfway up. “I can see you are hurting right now, but it is no excuse for you to take it out on me. Come find me when you are done being so angry.” With that, she continues back upstairs to their bedroom. Rafe lets out a scream and punches the door near the archway that leads to the family room. He stares at the hole his fist left and makes another one beside it. 
Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @f4ll-for-you @winterrrnight @maggiecc @magicwithaknife @loves0phelia @jiarapamuk
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blues824 · 5 months
Note
Greetings, friend! Can I ask for 24 with Trey and 25 with Ruggie? (Both with male readers, if possible, please❤️)
You requested: New Year’s Countdown + NYE Party
I just did both prompts for both guys lol. Male reader
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Trey Clover
You had accepted his invitation to stay at his family’s home in the Queendom of Roses, and the scent of flowers kind of punched you in the face in the best way possible. Trey carried your suitcase for you, even though you didn’t want him to because he had his own suitcase to carry. However, he warned you that your arms needed to be free to catch his siblings when they try to tackle you.
Laughing as you knocked on the door to the house, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to actually be tackled. Trey walked in with your suitcases before coming back out and picking his brother and sister up, hoisting them over his shoulders. They pounded against his back, trying to get him to let go, but he’s carried too many sacks of flour to be deterred so easily.
Meeting his parents for the first time was a bit awkward, as they had no idea that their son had a boyfriend. Then, there was his siblings, who saw how grossly in love you both were and asked when you were going to get married. Instead of being embarrassed, though, Trey just said that he was waiting until you both graduated, and that made you flustered as hell.
Anyway, your time here was mostly spent helping the bakery run. You often helped your beloved baker in the kitchen, fetching the ingredients and measuring cups that he needed. You would then help at the counter whenever a customer walked in to collect their party order. Now, his family’s bakery was a fairly well-known spot, so to see someone else behind the counter was unusual.
However, Trey would introduce you to each person as his boyfriend. If they were being honest, every single person thought that he would stay single for his entire life because he never showed interest in anyone. You laughed at their surprise, saying that you were very lucky to have a man like him.
Unfortunately, this job never stopped, so the Clover family just opted to celebrate New Year’s in the bakery. It was a small celebration, but it meant that it would be special. The younger children indulged themselves on the treats left over, and you, Trey, and his parents had a small glass of champagne to toast to the new year.
Then, the countdown began.
“10, 9, 8, 7…” Trey pulled you into him, grabbing your face with his hands.
“Y/N L/N, in the rather short time I have known you, you managed to throw my life upside down completely. I love you, and I know I say it rather often, but I hope you know I mean it, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I love you. I’m glad I’ve had the privilege of knowing you and loving you.” His words were enough to bring you to tears, and once the clock ran out, you pulled him into a rather passionate kiss.
“Get a room!” Trey’s younger brother shouted with his mouth stuffed full of a cupcake.
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Ruggie Bucchi
The Sunset Savanna was very warm, even at this time of year. That being said, you were very happy to go because you did not want to stay in NRC. Crowley was an insufferable piece of shit, and Ruggie was less so and also your boyfriend. Plus, he wrote to his family about you and they very much wanted to meet the human who tamed their son.
Once you stepped foot onto the street he lived on, you realized that these people probably knew how to party. Everyone was pitching in on getting ready for a big New Year’s Party, any skills were accepted into preparation. You moved on to his grandmother’s house, and you could smell the food she was currently cooking. It made your mouth water.
You learned that his grandmother, while a bit strict, was really sweet. Once you showed interest in what she was making, she had you and her grandson helping her in the kitchen. She told you many stories of your boyfriend when he was just a young pup, which embarrassed him but made you laugh. You were totally going to use these stories as blackmail later, but that was another story on its own.
Anyway, at the party itself, you met many people from Ruggie’s childhood as you helped set up. His aunties and uncles (who were really just close family friends) all loved you, saying you were a good man for their little Ruggie. You relationship with one another was very heartwarming and cute to the others in the area, again with some little kids asking when you two are getting married. Is it so bad if you were daydreaming about it? 
Eventually, the preparation was ready. The food was laid out and everyone started sitting down at tables that were put out in the street. One of the residents was a retired DJ who kept up with recent trends in music, so you had a free DJ. It was definitely a very exciting party, especially as you got up to dance with your lovely hyena.
Then, the music slowed down. The couples got together and started dancing with one another. There were even a few children, their love only equating to a small crush, that were dancing together. Your arms went about his neck, playing with the ends of his hair on the back of his neck, making him melt as you both swayed side to side.
Over the mic, the DJ started counting down, and that’s when Ruggie stopped to speak his mind.
“Y/N, I know I haven’t been the kindest to you this year, but I hope you can accept a poor hyena’s apology. I love you, sweets, and I’m hoping you could be mine for the next year and the year after, all the way until you are absolutely sick of me. I am your hyena, I am your problem.”
“You could never be a problem to me, Rugs.” You pulled him into a rather passionate kiss once the clock ran out, earning a few whistles and cheers from those around you.
Pulling away, you whispered, “I love you, too,” against his lips.
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Text
Fool
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pairing: gf!wes hicks x fem!reader
summary: you were a fool to believe he was innocent and truly had died.
warnings: possessive behavior, yandere,gore, blood, murder, manipulation, faked death, parental death(not reader’s family), toxicity, obsession, etc…
It was sort of an inside joke in your friend group on how whipped Wes was for Tara, always there for her even when it was obvious she wasn’t into him.
So it didn’t surprise any of you he was the first to be at her side in the hospital. Sam of course was there.
However as killings continued, suspicions were raised. “Sam being back sort of ruins everything doesn’t it? Amber said.
You snorted.”You’re only saying that because you don’t like Sam.” “True! Chad pipes in. “Shut up, Pokémon onesie! Mindy teased.
“Well, She’s coming, Wes said.”When’s the last time Tara even saw her again?” “Five years, Amber said.”Sam’s like a troublemaker.”
“Wasn’t she like like thirteen? Amber, give her a break, You say softly. “You know who should get a break? Liv said grumpily.”Me. Vince keeps being a creep again!”
“Oh god, not Vince, You groan.”He’s such a weirdo.” You hear whistling coming in your way from the jocks. More specifically, the asshole named Landon.
“Hey sweetheart, want a ride home? He asks.
“I don’t think she wants to, Wes replied defensively. Your best friend since birth pretty much. You met him first before meeting Amber, Mindy, Liv, Chad and Tara.
“Huh, I don’t remember asking you, Landon hissed. His friends laughed at his response. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in douchebags, You say, crossing your arms. "You playing hard to get turns me on, Landon smirks. "See you later, baby."
"Gross, You scoffed. "You okay, Buddy? Chad asks Wes. "I'm fine, He replied. Mindy smirks. "You don't seem fine." "Okay, I don't like him, so what? He hits on Y/N like all the time, He finished.
You nodded. "Hm, sounds like jealousy, Mindy jokes. "Oh come on, Mindy, we've been friends forever! You said. "Y/n is right, I'm not jealous, everyone doesn't like him, Wes defended.
He did have a very good point. Plus, jocks in general normally sucked. A few exceptions, of course, one being Chad. "I should be going, You replied." My Mom and Dad are going out so they need to lecture me on rules."
Liv chuckled. You sigh, getting up. Being by yourself wouldn't be so horrible. No, You loved being by yourself. As you expected, you were lectured on rules. However, good consequence from it. You were home alone.
You ordered pizza, since you didn't feel like cooking. You binge watched horror movies, drank some soda, since your alcohol cabinet was locked, your mom and dad knew you would drink.
truthfully, you didn't exactly mind. "Oh god, why are the blonde ones always so dumb? you scoff, judging the horror movie. You sigh, drinking your soda. "See, like, why do you even go there? obviously the killer will be there."
Your phone ringing interrupts you mid rant, making you annoyed. "hello? you say, picking up.
"Hello."
"Uh, hi, who is this? You say, curiously.
"is y/n l/n home?"
"Oh, you're speaking with her, You smile, wondering if someone you knew was calling, though, using the voice from stab, really?
"good, i really was hoping i could talk. This is Landon."
"oh my god, sorry, not interested."
"You really believed I was Landon, huh?"
You sigh of relief. "Oh, thank fucking god. Nice joke, Mindy."
“I’m not Mindy.”
“What do you mean? You say.”of course this has to be Mindy, the only one who would do a joke like that.”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
“Definitely not the one you’re referring to, You sigh, getting the popcorn from the microwave.”Maybe My Bloody Valentine.”
“Good one. But don’t you like the Stab Movies? Best horror franchise of all time.”
“Sorry, but it sucked, You say.”It’s disrespectful considering it’s based on real events.”
“But you’re watching it right now. Hypocritical of you.”
Your eyes widen, you were. Not because you well, liked the movies, but because you would want to judge them over and over. It was something you did with movies you sucked.
“How did you know that? You say, looking out the windows.
“I’m watching you right now.”
You pause the movie and check everywhere the creepy phone caller was.
“Well, where are you?”
“Right behind you.”
You didn’t want to look behind you, but did as Ghostface grabbed your throat, throwing you onto the table, your snacks spilling over. Everything on the ground.
You whimpered a little as your oxygen began running out, coughing and struggling to get some air. You squirm.
“Don’t move.”
You nodded, and stop moving. He lets go of your throat, so that wasn’t how he’d kill you. You ask, "Could you just kill me by now?"
"Now would that be fun?"
You sigh, closing your eyes, preparing for your death, seeing it now. Only pain. You groaned feeling yourself being stabbed. "No! Please! You cry out. You were in so much pain.
However, he stabbed you a few times more. You still lived, though. Blacking out, accepting your fate. But you woke up, surrounded by your friends.
"y/n! you woke up! Tara said. "Huh? You say, weakly. "Um, how do we say this? She finished. Amber sighed. "Wes and his Mom died." You see Sam and someone you don’t recognize.
"hi, i'm richie, he says awkwardly.”I’m sorry for your loss.” “Thank you, You replied. You couldn’t believe your best friend died.
Your head hurt, badly. You hit your head hard you assumed. “Oh god, You groaned, tears coming out from the fact your best friend was gone.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay, Sam assured you. "i know, you frowned. You couldn't even imagine how he died. You felt horrible, you shouldn't have lived.
Amber seemed sympathetic but glared daggers at Sam. She didn’t like her. And made it fairly obvious. “I still am in so much pain, You groan.
“Maybe you need some sleep, Chad suggested. You nodded, deciding that’s what you really wanted. Some rest.
After a few hours you got some rest. You wanted to leave but you still had to recover, unfortunately. And by now you were by yourself.
Vulnerable.
At least you were filled with people around you. So not completely alone. You were bored, but having your phone, you would be fine. Something took you by surprise.
Wes had messaged you.
Or at least someone was using his phone to message you, taunt you. This was sick. But you couldn’t help but read the message.
It hurts doesn’t it?
This was confusing for a second, then you remembered he meant Wes.
Fuck you.
You were on read and didn’t get a response. Not for a while anyway. And you ignored further messages from Ghostface.
You eventually recovered enough to be discharged. And apparently the decision was to go to Stu Macher’s house. Why? You had no idea but went along because at least you wouldn’t be by yourself.
You sat on the living room couch, your friends with you. “I’m getting Deja vu, Mindy said. “You weren’t even born when Randy was here! You point out.
Liv and Chad sat together, though showing a bit more PDA than you can handle. “Whatever, you sigh. “Hey look, y/n, I get it, you’re grieving, Mindy said.
“I think I might just drink something, You frown, getting up and going to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you hear something weird.
“Chad? Sam? You say, hoping it was at least one of them. But it wasn’t. Standing in front of you was Ghostface.
“Holy shit! Guys! You yell, as Ghostface lunges for you. “Y/n, what’s going on… FUCK! Chad said. Liv was nowhere to be seen.
“Look I have to find Liv, He said.”She accepted my request and-“ “okay! But it might be a trap! You say, Ghostface grabbing you from behind, scaring you as you screamed, violently kicking to get out of his grasp.
You should’ve seen this coming. But you didn’t. “Hey, asshole! Sam said, making Ghostface turn in her direction, hitting him and you getting out of his grasp.
It didn’t surprise you that there was another one. Richie seemed totally freaked out, and so were you. “I’ve seen this in like a million Stab movies! He said.
You had known that he hadn’t seen them prior, and watched them while supporting Sam. “Okay, but those movies sucked and aren’t accurate! You said.”So the most logical thing to do apparently was just run around and hope the killer doesn’t find you.
Nice.
You were already exhausted but nonetheless made sure you stuck by your friends. You didn’t trust Amber, and you hadn’t seen her so it was quite obviously her as Ghostface.
“Okay, it’s either Amber or Liv, I think it’s Amber though, You murmur. Tara would’ve been very offended if she had heard that.
When all of a sudden, Ghostface lunges out. And Sidney arrived. Out of everyone she pretty much knew how to deal with Ghostface the best.
“Run! Sidney said. You ran into Amber. Then apparently Liv, who was covered in blood. “Liv, what the fuck? You say.
“I found Chad! She sobbed. “We know it’s you! Amber yelled.”Stop trying to make yourself look innocent!” “Stay back, Sam said. Richie somehow appeared again.
That made you very suspicious. “Richie, maybe stay the fuck back yourself, You snap. “What did I do? He asks.
“The love interest is always a suspect, I said. “Calm down, Y/N, Sam said. Defending her boyfriend as usual. But everyone else, it seemed clear Richie was suspicious.
Gale had been knocked out and Sidney stood by you and your friends. “I swear I’m not the killer! Liv said.”Chad’s dead.”
Amber went from scared to smug.”I know.” She pulled out a gun, and shot Liv point blank, killing her. Everyone scrambled but Richie, who stuck behind, revealed to be the second killer.
“Ah ah, I wouldn’t move if I were you, Richie said to Sam, knife pressed on her throat, putting the voice changer on.”Surprise, Sam.”
Everyone steps into the kitchen, Amber cornering Sidney. “But that’s not even the best part! Amber said proudly, sticking by her older boyfriend, making you want to vomit.
She was fucking psychotic. But at the same time, Amber definitely was a victim in the sense she was groomed by Richie, but they both seemed fucked in the head.
A third Ghostface appeared. And that feeling appeared again. That dreadful feeling. Your intuition. Amber specifically looks at you. And that’s when you knew.
“Surprise, Y/N.”
Wes has a sick grin on his face, the mask off and his hand. “You killed your own mother? You ask, Jaw dropped.
“It wasn’t too hard, and besides, she was being a bitch, it had to be done, Wes said. He’d never call his mother that. He loved his Mom. It was sweet and, he was respectful.
This wasn’t the person you had grown up with and knew. This was a completely different person. “Don’t, Sam said.”Don’t let him get close, y/n.”
“I know.”
You wanted to, You so badly wanted to. But that wasn’t what you were going to do. You grabbed a kitchen knife, and when you really thought about it, you needed to kill him.
“Go on, do it, Wes smirked.”Kill me.” Amber and Richie only stood there like idiots but seemed proud. You put more thought into this. You needed to be logical.
It was clear that he was going off an obsession. Some fucked up feelings he had for you. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t kill you.
You were going to kill him, but not first. Instead, you plunged the knife straight into Amber, as she screamed out in pain.
“You’re next, you should run, Ghostface.”
You were such a fool.
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