#but as time went on and i kept thinking about her and what i would like her to be i realized she chose to look like this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

supernovafics · 2 days

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𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k words

summary: in which it’s hard to see eddie with anyone who isn't you

warnings: friends to lovers to friends again (kinda), explicit language, alcohol consumption, very brief mention of weed, pining, angst

author’s note: this is fully inspired by the song "new love" by girl in red. enjoy<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“She’s right over there. Should I do it?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

Eddie nodded at your words and then he was standing up from the long patio chair that you, him, and Robin had been occupying for the past thirty minutes, and heading over to where his newest crush stood with a few of her friends.

Robin let out a laugh. “I don’t get it.”

You turned your head to look at her. “What?”

“How you guys can still be friends right now. You only broke up like two months ago.”

Making the promise to stay friends post-breakup was the only thing that made the breakup feel a thousand times less terrible. And it sounded easy enough— you and Eddie were simply just going to go back to how things were before you started dating.

“We’re better off as friends,” He had said to you that random Wednesday night back in January and you nodded understandingly. It was amicable and mutual, and eventually— maybe, hopefully— the barely five-month relationship would be a funny little story to reminisce about with each other years down the line.

You took a long sip from the red cup in your hand and then shrugged at Robin’s words. “I don’t know. This just works somehow. It’s better.”

You had been telling yourself that lie a lot lately— maybe almost too much. But, it was easier to pretend that that lie was the truth and that everything was fine, instead of thinking that maybe you made a mistake that night when you found yourself agreeing with Eddie and let things end between the two of you.

“No offense, but so weird,” Robin said with a shake of her head. “So, who’s this new girl he’s into anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

Eddie had told you a lot about her— how she saw one of his band’s shows recently with a few friends and how she kinda ran in the same-ish circles— but most of what he said about her went in one ear and out the other. Hearing him ramble on and on about a new crush hurt more than you thought it would. Even more than when you two were actually just friends and you were harboring what felt like a hopeless crush on him for years before finally admitting it.

Breaking up was supposed to save you both from more heartbreak in the long run, but most of the time it felt like it was only making things worse. Sometimes you wondered if Eddie felt the same way— if he regretted it as much as you did.

It was almost too obvious that he didn’t, though, because he didn’t waste a second moving on.

New girl, new crush, new love. All of which wasn’t you anymore.

You looked away from where he stood next to the girl— you were only fifty percent sure her name was Ally. She was happily laughing at whatever Eddie had just said to her, and he was smiling widely.

“I’m gonna go inside and attempt to find the bathroom,” You told Robin before downing the rest of what was in your cup and placing it on the ground, and then standing up.

She looked up at you. “Want some help?”

“No, it’s okay,” You shook your head. “I’ll be right back.”

You kept your eyes down and away from Eddie as you walked into the house, a place that was way too small to have this many people in it. The inside was packed to the brim with a bunch of unfamiliar faces, and that was the main reason why you, Robin, and Eddie immediately retreated to the backyard once the three of you showed up. The only reason you all knew about the party was because of a friend of a friend of someone that Eddie met at The Hideout a few weeks ago.

You maneuvered through the throngs of dancing people and groups of friends talking loudly over the blasting music and headed up the stairs, hoping that it would be a bit more calm.

The universe must have been somewhat on your side because you found the bathroom on your first try. You didn’t even need to use it, you just wanted a moment of quiet. And even though you could hear the muffled sounds of the song playing downstairs through the shut door, it was still good enough.

You leaned back against the sink and let out a long breath.

It was hard not to think about Eddie with Ally and how happy they looked, even though it was only one of their first few conversations. All you wanted to do was take her place. All you wanted was for him to want you like that again.

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, this complicated. Being just friends again was supposed to be the best thing to do, and you now wanted to bitterly laugh at yourself for stupidly believing that thought two months ago. Most of the time, that night played back on what felt like a continuous loop in your head. You kept wondering if you should’ve done things differently; if you should’ve, maybe, fought harder to keep what you two had.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

You had immediately laughed at Eddie’s soft-spoken words, thinking that he was joking, but when he didn’t join in, you were furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

“This just doesn’t make sense, y’know? We’re graduating soon, and then we’re gonna be going in completely different directions. You’re leaving Hawkins, and I already know that I’m gonna be stuck here.”

You were quiet because you had no idea how to respond to that. Maybe it was only half-right— yes, you were going to be headed to a college that was not in Indiana at the end of the summer, but you truly couldn’t imagine Eddie being “stuck” anywhere.

“We’re better off as friends,” He continued. “Neither of us can get hurt that way.”

It was all so surprising and felt entirely out of nowhere, but you could tell by how he said the words that he had been thinking about this for a while. There was a part of you that could understand what he meant, the sad why behind it all, so you decided to lean into that. Because, in a way, he was kind of right— the deeper you fell for each other, the more painful the heartbreak would be in the end, and the harder it would be to leave in August.

But, shit, you were already in way too deep.

You still felt yourself nodding in agreement with him anyway, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do. “Okay.”

“So… just friends again?”

You simply nodded again and gave him a small smile. “Yeah, of course. Just friends.”

Now you felt so dumb for saying that, for agreeing to the idea. You couldn’t be “just friends” with Eddie Munson anymore.

There was a loud knock on the door that abruptly pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry, one sec,” You yelled out to the person on the other side.

You let out another breath and didn’t bother looking in the mirror to see if the sadness you were feeling was written so clearly across your face. Mainly because you knew that it definitely was and it would be too hard to replace it with a fake smile, anyway.

A random girl was rushing in before you were even fully out of the door, and you hoped that she was doing better than you were at that moment, but it didn’t entirely seem like it.

You decided that you wanted to go back outside and settle yourself back in your spot on the patio chair next to Robin, and you also really wanted another drink. The idea of blurring your thoughts for the rest of the night didn’t sound like the worst idea ever.

You made your way to the stairs and before you even started heading down, you spotted Eddie walking up. He easily noticed you too and he smiled before meeting you at the top of the stairs after a second. He looked at you for a moment and then his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, reaching out to place a hand on your upper arm. It was such a subtle and simple action, but it still made you feel way too many things at once. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” You answered, giving him a weak smile, and then immediately changed the subject so that he wouldn’t question you further right then. “How’d it go with Ally? That’s her name, right?”

“Yeah, it is. But, that ask-out completely crashed and failed because she said that she just started dating someone.”

“Oh, sorry,” You told him, not because you actually felt it, but because it simply felt like the right thing to say at that moment.

“It’s fine,” Eddie shrugged. “What’s the dumb saying? There’s other fish in the sea or whatever.”

You let out a forced kind of laugh. “Yup, right.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

For a second, you considered lying again; it would’ve been the best and simplest thing to do. You could’ve said that you weren’t feeling well and you needed to just head back outside and get some air— you should’ve just said that. But then, suddenly, all you could think was fuck it.

“I can’t do this.”

He looked at you, confused. “Do what?”

“Be friends with you. I can’t go back to how things were with us before we dated. And I know that I have been doing it for the past two months, but I can’t anymore.”

“But, we decided—”

“I know,” You interrupted him. “I know what we decided, but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy to do this. To just turn off my feelings and pretend that I’m not still in love with you.”

Surprisingly, it actually felt good to finally be honest about everything that you had forced yourself to bury over the past few months. It felt as if a weight was being lifted off of your shoulders.

“It’s not easy for me either.”

You couldn’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at Eddie’s words. “Yeah, because talking to Ally out there looked really painful and hard for you.”

“That doesn’t…” He trailed off as he shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything. I promise. It doesn’t mean that I don’t miss you, or us.”

“Then why are we even doing this right now? What’s the point?”

You two had somehow moved away from the stairs and instead were standing further down the hallway, closer to the bathroom that you had left barely two minutes ago.

“I just,” Eddie began and then sighed. “I know it’s gonna hurt like hell letting you go in a few months, and maybe doing it this way is easier. It’s not at all easy, but maybe it’s better? I don’t know. Most of the time it feels so fucking stupid, and I feel like an idiot for what I did that night… But, maybe it was the right thing to do.”

You considered his words for a moment. Just like that night two months ago, a part of you could recognize that he was at least a little right. But, this time you decided against leaning into the small part of you that wanted to simply agree with him because it made things seem “easy.”

“You know me,” You ultimately said, stepping a little closer and finding his hand. “I overthink everything. I think about every possible outcome for any and every situation. But, this is the one thing that I don’t want to think that far ahead about. And maybe that’s stupid. And maybe we will end up feeling terribly heartbroken at the end of the summer, and we’ll regret not just leaving things like they are right now. But, I’d rather that, than to keep pretending that everything is fine and normal. Somehow that feels so much worse. Why can’t we just enjoy this, us, for what it is before we have to give it up?”

Eddie didn’t say anything at first and that worried you. You braced yourself for the inevitable rejection, and you were already telling yourself that you would be okay with it because at least you tried this time around— you had finally said the words that you wished you’d said that night.

But then he was kissing you. It was abrupt and sudden and you hadn’t seen it coming, even though it was exactly what you wanted to happen. He was pulling his hand away from yours and immediately reaching up to cup your face in both of his hands. They were cold, but you still felt as if you were on fire.

It was probably only him that could affect you this much and this easily. You didn’t realize how much you missed the feel of his mouth on yours and how much you missed having him close to you in this way until it was finally, finally happening again.

Your mind briefly traveled back to the last time this happened. It was the night before the breakup and the two of you were smoking weed in your backyard, sandwiched together in one patio chair instead of sitting in separate ones because it just felt right to do, and the close proximity allowed your lips to easily find his.

“I love you,” Eddie mumbled against your mouth now, which also reminded you of that last time. “I’m sorry I made us lose the past two months.”

Your hands were fisting themselves into his black t-shirt, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter.”

And technically, it really didn’t, at least not in your head. You were just glad to be here in this moment with him. It wasn’t too late. You two still had time.

“It’ll be okay,” You told him in between kisses. Maybe you two should have found a bedroom or simply moved anywhere that was out of the dark hallway and away from potential prying eyes, but that didn’t feel like the most important thing to do right then. “Whatever happens in the end. It’ll be okay.”

Eddie was nodding as he pressed you back against the wall and his hands dropped to your waist. “Okay.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut

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stylespresleyhearted · 2 days

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THE MAJOR’S WIFE

warnings: mentions of miscarriage, adultery, nsfw, marital problems, oral (m! receiving), spanking, being turned on even when your brain isn’t in it, bucky in 1x04, bucky married pre-war, slight age gap bc reader can come off slightly immature (i think?) angst, historical inaccuracies, new mediocre writer be nice

summary: John Egan gets to know his wife again

word count: 9.7k

notes: i’m not sure where this came from i wrote it all today and got no part of my research paper done. there’s really no point to it and also irl john egan was actually really close to his mother so i emphasized that here. he wrote to her so much. no disrespect to any of the real people, this is based on the show/show timeline as well.

Lila gets the call on the 2nd of October and her dreams come true.

Not entirely, no. The real dream would be having him home safe and the tragic war being over but she knows how fortunate she is to have the next best thing happen. Her husband’s been granted a few days leave and Colonel Harding believed it would do Major Egan some good to have his sweet, young wife join him during those days overseas. For the good of John’s mental health the Colonel or the President - or whoever was in charge, Lila really had no idea - had agreed to pay for her ticket and their hotel. There was only one thing they asked for in return and although it wasn’t explicitly said, Lila caught their drift: sort your husband out.

Lila knows it would do her no good to sit and wonder how horribly John must be doing in order for them to declare an all expenses paid trip for his spouse. All she does is worry for him anyhow so she forces herself to focus on the one good thing of the entire ordeal - she’s going to see her man.

There’d been letters, although not as many as she liked and she tried not to let it show how it hurt as every other wife received more than one letter at a time. Her John wasn’t the sort, she knew that when she married him. He was the kind of person who needed endless skies and land to maintain his sense of stability. Having him cooped up would do him no good and she partly wondered how much of what he was struggling with was the trauma he witnessed in the air and how much of it was feeling caged on base. At least his plane, good ol’ Mugwump (he wrote about her quite often) offered him the opportunity to head anywhere he wanted.

The only person he wrote consistently and readily to was his mother. It was rare if a week went by and she received no letter. During these instances it was more times than not an issue with the postal service.

Be that as it may, Lila knew who she married and it made her love him no less so she tried not to let it get to her. His mother was a saint. Firm and strong and loving all the same. Lila would have never survived sending John off if his mother wasn’t who and how she was. She held Lila at night when her cries woke her and she let Lila sleep in his old childhood bed. She kept food on their table and ensured everyone got their work done through the worry.

When John first left and Lila was sick to her stomach and vomiting multiple times of the day it was his mother who consoled her through the night when her sheets turned a crimson red and any ideals of having their baby through the war was lost.

Frances Egan was the glue holding them together. All of them, even her son who was an entire ocean way - so no. Lila would not be angry that she was John’s preferred pen-pal.

“You fix him right up,” Mama Egan had said in lieu of goodbye when leaving her at the airport, “you give him the loving he needs as his wife and the smacks he needs from me to get on the straight and narrow before sending him off to continue saving the world. You do it for him, not for any of them war bastards. You hear me?”

All Lila could do was nod. Dropping her bags on the floor and clutching her pseudo mother tightly. She was excited as she was frightened.

They had only gotten two months together before he had been pulled away. She didn’t want to complain, loads of women had gotten less time at all while others had only ever been left with the promise.

But her two months as Mrs. Egan? They’d been a dream. Her man was a romancer. He hadn’t hesitated in introducing her as the newly (and younger) Mrs. Egan, always resulting in an arm slap from his mother, he held open doors and he never stopped courting her; however she thinks the best times were when he was teaching her how to act married.

In their bed, at a home he had spent a year building for them. Using any extra pennies he had to pay off younger boys to help him hurry it along. Giving her the wrap-around porch she had always envisioned.

He showed her how to kiss. How to undress him. He had laid her underneath him, using his large frame to cover her completely, protecting her from the cold as he threw the sheets off them and making her feel tiny compared to him. She had never felt safer.

It had hurt the first time but he had held her through it. Never allowing any inches of space between their bodies; as if telling her they were in it together. She’d always known he was large, everything about him was large in general, but she never thought how much it would hurt to have all of him fit inside her. Lila hadn't wanted to disappoint him so she tried to muffle her tears and whimpers but he had swallowed her cries and gone slow, soft.

“If this is it, it’ll be enough,” he had promised, only about half way inside her and wiping away her tears with his thumbs. As a thank you she had taken that calloused thumb into her mouth and sucked. He allowed her; hiding his face in her neck and pressing wet kisses along there.

And for the first few times that had been it. She couldn’t take all of him and his thrusts couldn’t get too deep so he would only slip inside until her tight hole resisted and pulsed and he’d hump against that spot until reaching his pleasure.

“Do other girls take all of it?” She had asked a couple days later, trying to wrap her head around it.

She was no idiot. John Egan was no virgin.

“Yes.” Lila could always count on him to be honest. At least there was that. Meanwhile she couldn’t even fully pleasure him. She was failing as a wife. “Hey,” he lay facing her and she lay on her back. He tapped her cheek until she turned her face. “You’re my wife. That’s what makes this feel better.”

And she had beamed at his reassurance even though she didn’t feel much better. She knew John would never push her, and he couldn’t stand to see her cry, so if she ever wanted to learn to be a good wife she would have to take it upon herself.

So that’s what she did.

He was always on top and she was always on her back. That’s the first thing she had to change. From her understanding of it, from her talks with friends that always ended in giggles and blushing cheeks and from what she learned from John, it could be done in many different ways.

“I prefer to be in charge,” her school friend, Linda, had admitted to her. “Not like that -” she clarified, cheeks pink, “Just - if I’m gonna take it, I’d rather do it at my pace. Be on top. Some husbands are good like that. They’ll allow it.”

And knowing her husband wasn’t just good, he was great, she knew he would hold no qualms about it. The next time they lay in bed kissing it was easy to turn him over and straddle him. Move her wetness against his belly to let him know there was still more she just needed him to accept it.

Except he thought she was asking him to do it so he flipped her on her back again. And without breaking their kiss, she turned him over again.

It was more like they were wrestling.

Lila pulls away from his mouth, reluctantly, noticing his lips were wet and red and swollen and wondering if hers were much the same. They had been kissing for so long her mouth felt raw.

She loved it.

Straddling him, she reached behind her, feeling him standing straight and hard against her backside in between her cheeks. Sticky.

He gasped, bucking into her fist with a loud, guttural groan. It was so manly she rocked against his stomach again in need.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunted, “what’re you doing?”

“I want to try it like this,” she breathed, leaning over to whisper in his mouth, her tiny hand still wrapped around him and lining her up to her hole. “I want it all.” Lila clarified.

And John allowed it, like she knew he would. Let her take control and go at her pace. Let her swivel her hips on the way down to help with the tightness of being stretched so wide and thick.

Nothing but curses and promises of love leaving his lips. Gasping mine, mine, mine and my perfect fucking wife and I’m gonna fuck you forever.

He felt large inside of her, like if she was being split in two but it felt so good as the tip of him repeatedly hit a spongy part inside that had her coming with no contact to her clit for the first time.

She was beautiful, red splotches appearing on her body from the heat of their love-making, her hair tangled in his fists, her mouth falling open as she threw her head back - all of it was too much. He was flipping her over and pounding into her trying to chase his peak and a second one from her, their headboard banging against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts.

Things changed from then on. Sexually, that is. Becoming aware of how badly she needed to feel like she was pleasing him, John was not above using it against her. Like letting him lick at her.

“Good wives allow their husbands everything,” he would say, lips wide in a smile and eyes bright at the prospect of getting his way but Lila always knew the choice was really hers. He would respect what she wanted.

He was just too damn addicting. She couldn’t stand to tell him no.

His favorite times were when she allowed him to sit her over his face and let him feast. It drowned the outside world for him and he kept at it even after she had reached multiple orgasms and was pulling on his hair and the only thing keeping her up was his forearms locking around her thighs.

Her favorite was when he allowed her to taste him at the same time he was licking her. It was a tie between those times and when he held her down until all of him was in her mouth and she was spluttering, choking, gagging. Knowing she made a filthy vision and he adored it did something to her.

Now she was in London, closer to him than she had been in years, and all their intimacies were within reach. She could almost taste him, feel him petting back her hair and settling a hand at the low of her back. She still remembers the smell of his after shave and sweat, how he’d come into the kitchen asking for some of her homemade lemonade to help with the heat.

Jack Kidd was tasked with picking up Mrs. Egan from the airport and having her arrive at base with him. She remembers meeting him a couple of times before John shipped out early. Originally she was meant to wait for John at their hotel but there had been an issue when planning her flight and she arrived sooner than intended.

“Ma’am,” he greeted, placing a friendly kiss on her cheeks and taking her bags from her. “Bucky’s gonna be happy as hell to see your face.”

The tone in his voice - relief? alleviation? - had some of her happy wife's facade crumbling. How badly was her Johnny hurting that everyone was looking at her at his only chance to remain sane or alive?

Stop it. Maybe everyone’s just aware Johnny misses you. You’re his wife.

“Not as happy as me, I wager,” she returned with a smile. “I’m glad to see you’re doing okay, Jack. Glad to see you still kicking.”

His shrug didn’t soothe her worry but she saw him try to mask it with a smile.

“All we boys can do is pray.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, gathering his attention. “You boys have got the prayers of our entire country protecting you.”

Jack simply nodded in response.

For the most part the ride to base was quiet. Her bags would be kept in the trunk until her and John were ready to drive out to London in a couple of hours and until then, she’d be his surprise at the officer’s club. Silver Wings, Jack called it. Where all the boys gathered and had drinks and celebrated accomplishments. And where some chose to mourn, too.

Her stomach was turning as she neared the hut, following Jack’s footsteps. There was so much that could go wrong and although this was meant to be a surprise, the U.S Army showing their gratitude towards a brave Major, she suddenly wished she would have called John and told him. She wished he knew so that she wouldn’t have to walk in feeling alone and unwanted.

Not that Lila thought John would turn her away, she simply wanted to have him hold her hand as she walked through the threshold.

“Stick close by,” Jack murmured, being respectful of where he touched her before deciding to lead her by her shoulder. “It gets crowded but I’ll take ya to him.”

As she walked through different groups, she felt the offending eyes of men and women alike. Wondering who she was. With a pang in her heart she realized she had met John’s squadrons before but all these crews were new. The boys she met, most of them at least from what she could tell, hadn’t made it. John never wrote about who passed away (except to inform her of Curt) ; most of their letters were him expressing his love and how he missed her so and asking what she got up to.

Having walked around the roundabout bar in the center of the room, her stomach in knots and fingers tangled in front of her - she caught sight of her husband smack middle in the dance floor. Pressed against a beautiful brunette.

Lila caught sight of him before even Jack did. That’s how connected she was to her husband. Jack whistled from beside her to gain Gale’s attention who was resting against the bar holding his signature ginger ale, also watching John Egan chat up the woman he was swaying with with something like disapproval in his eyes.

His large hands were occupying most of the space of her waist, keeping her body tethered to his as she laughed.

“Lila,” he gasped, eyes wide. He was smart enough to not turn and look at his buddy. To act as if nothing was amiss and she expected nothing less from Gale Cleven, “damn it all to hell. You’re a sight for sore eyes, Mrs. Egan.”

Because he was close to John, he didn’t hesitate in wrapping her up in a tight hug and pressing a kiss to her tinted cheeks. He knew John wouldn’t mind.

When he pulled back she patted his chubby cheek in return, “You still shame the rest of us with your good looks, Gale,” she laughed. “I’ll let Marge know when I see her next.”

Lila also knew she would share with Marge that while Gale was being loyal, standing off to the side her husband was exchanging oxygen with a woman on the dance floor.

His cheeks tinted at the mention of his girl. Buck and Bucky were both aware Lila and Marge wrote to one another and visited each other whenever time made it possible.

“Colonel Harding said Major Egan was in need of something from home,” she said, studying his reaction to see what she could read but Gale had always been aloof, cold. He wasn’t close to her like he was with Marge and John.

Gale thought back to a few moments earlier when John had disrespected their Colonel and all his actions before that too - disrespecting superiors, drinking more consistently, becoming angry - hopelessness in his eyes.

“He’s in need of you Lila,” Gale clarified and it wasn’t lost on either one of them that he they were referring to was currently on the floor wooing another woman.

“Holy shit! It’s Mrs. Egan!” Hambone animatedly announced and suddenly it felt like the eyes of everyone in there were on her. Her cheeks tinted pink, never having been one for the spotlight like her husband.

She was greeted with welcoming cheers and hugs.

John, for his part, disentangled from the woman he was holding at the mention of his missus. He was sober enough to appear sheepish and guilty, but in the next second it was gone as he stalked towards her. Determined. Quick. His smile growing the more he neared like he was becoming more aware she was really there and it wasn’t a fucked up scenario in his head.

“God, Lila,” she managed to hear him say before she was elevated in the air, his arms tight around her waist and lifting her high so they were at face level and he could kiss her. Channeling his love and exuberance and aggression into kissing his wife. “It’s you, it’s you, it’s really you,” he was saying in between smooches, “I missed you. So fucking much, doll.”

Basking in his love she didn’t feel the need to mention the woman that was so kindly keeping him preoccupied before she entered.

She couldn’t help the first tear from falling or the rest from following. It was like the tightness in her chest unlocked as she finally got to hold him and feel his heat surround her. He still smelled of after shave and the same hair gel that was kept in their bathroom at home but he tasted strongly of whiskey and cigarettes and strawberry lipstick.

John tucked his face into her neck, setting her down and bending to her level. Sniffling in there as he continued to hold her.

“None of that,” she did her best to stop her voice from wobbling or breaking, “we’re together. That’s all that matters.” She drew his face out from where he had hidden to pepper him with a few more kisses.

None of it was enough.

The rest of the guys were kind enough to return to the dance floor and act like they couldn’t see them.

“Who? What - why? How?” He was obviously having trouble forming coherent thoughts in between the kisses he continued stealing from her.

She was crying and laughing and trying to return all his touches. It was a terribly difficult ordeal but she had never been happier.

“Colonel Harding called and said you had a weekend leave. He said he talked to some of the higher ups but they couldn’t allow you a leave home so this was the next best thing,” she explained, cupping his cheek as she rubbed her thumb over his cheekbone. He had minor scars that weren’t there before.

She wanted to kiss every single one of them.

He was still bent towards her height, taking her in as she was taking him in.

She forgot how blue his eyes were.

He was whole. Complete. Hers.

“You’re here for the entire weekend?” He asked to confirm and she nodded, laughing when he lifted her again with a loud whoop to celebrate. That got a few of the guys to join in although they had no idea what their Major was celebrating.

“I need you,” his voice suddenly dropped, setting her down as he turned to the door. “Let’s go.” He was buckling up her coat to make sure she was protected from the freezing London air. She was lucky he was too far gone to scold her for arriving with it unbuckled in the first place - she could get sick.

“John, John - relax, my sweet man,” she laughed, cupping his cheek to get his attention. “We can stay for a while. We don’t have to go yet.”

It’s why she was at the officer’s club in the first place. She had arrived early.

John turned stiff in her hold, straightening to his full height as he suddenly loomed over her. “I’ve got you in my arms for the first time and you want to stay here?” His voice was tight. His face stern.

“Yes - no, I -” she was unsure of where she went wrong or how to fix it. She clasped his hands in hers but he didn’t allow her to thread their fingers together so it was just her holding on. “I just meant we’ve got time, John.”

The way he was looking at her made her want to cry. She felt her lower lip quivering.

She felt ashamed, whispering, trying to get him to keep his cool.

“Time? Time?” He laughed loudly. She was mildly aware of Gale breaking away from a group of guys to near them, worried but she was mostly focused on John. The tense lines on his face even as he laughed and the quirked eyebrow even though she found no amusement in their situation. “You think I’ve got time? You have no idea what it’s like up there.”

She shook her head but didn’t try to verbally explain herself. She wasn’t sure she could manage a few words before breaking into tears.

“Come on, Bucky,” that was Gale stepping in to save the day. Perhaps the only person who could get John to listen. “When have you ever left before dancing with your girl? You gotta show these rookies how it’s properly done right?”

With Gale slapping a hand to John’s shoulders, he seemed to snap out of it. Releasing a deep breath and seemingly all the tightness in body with it.

He leaned down again, pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, clasping a hand around her neck so she wouldn’t pull her head back. As their eyes locked she felt a tear fall again and this one wasn’t happy. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. It’s this place. It’s fucking with my head.”

And she chose to believe him, nodding her head in understanding and trying not to think about how she wasn’t his preferred person to write letters to or the one who could clear his head.

Maybe the Colonel should have allowed a weekend pass for Gale and John.

Lila swallowed the thought, allowing John to pull her to the dance floor as he lost all anger and aggression and became charming and loving all over again.

“Everyone, this is my wife!” He bellowed and everyone cheered in response. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and -” he hiccuped and she realized he was drunker than she thought, “and I bet we can out dance any couples here tonight!”

So for the next hour she found herself being twirled around the dance floor by her husband. She almost forgot their prior negative interaction; his love and energy was so infectious. For the slow songs he would hold her close and she would rest her head against his chest, letting it lull her to a relaxing state. He was alive and she was with him. That had to be enough. For the more upbeat songs, he was challenging any couple beside them. Asking those sitting who were better dancers? Who could perform certain dance moves better?

And all throughout, he was like he used to be back home. Loud and happy and the center of attention, keeping everyone entertained. He kept announcing to his boys that his beautiful wife was there and then he’d place a wet kiss on her mouth that had their cheeks (and hers) turning red but all he would do is smile and continue on.

She was finally able to disentangle herself from him when Crosby pulled him in for a conversation. Lila wonders if her state of disheveled hair and panting breaths made him want to aid her in allowing her to sit and grab a refresher.

Once she accepts Crosby’s hug and cheek kiss, she excuses herself to go grab a drink. John only pulls her back once to steal a kiss before she gets too far.

Her lips might be bruised by the time they leave if he kept it up.

She orders a cup of ice water from the man tending the bar, looking back out at her husband as she waits. He’d always been tall and strong, but she notices the change in his posture. The bulges in his arms as he twirled her around and lifted her in the air. His eyes were only bright when he forced it. They had lost their shine and she wishes she brought the picture from back home. Where he looks young and full of life and joyful. Even when he smiles he seems hollow; hopeless.

She’s there but he doesn’t really care because in his head he’s already thinking of when she leaves again.

She wasn’t used to that. Her John only lived in the moment.

“He keepin’ you busy?”

Gale settles up behind her and pushes the glass water towards her. She didn’t even notice when it was put down.

“Dizzy, more like,” she jokes and gets him to crack a smile. She thinks to when she walked in and seen Gale, how he’d been watching the scene unfold but with a disapproving look in his eyes. How he didn’t try to hide the scene from her or excuse it. He let it be. And she knows John has never shied away from attention. He’s always been handsome and charming and girls always swarmed but Lila wasn’t aware she had to be around to keep him loyal. She thought he just was. And she knows it’s not too long before they leave now so she decides to be direct with him. “So, does that happen often?”

She sees Gale’s expression split for a second, like he debates playing dumb before deciding against it and she respects him even more for it.

“I think you should talk to John about it.” He decides on.

“Is it something that needs to be mentioned?” She doesn’t like playing this game with him but she knows at the first words of cheating and adultery Gale is going to excuse himself and her chance will be lost.

She can’t be simple and ask: Does my husband cheat on me?

“Another ginger ale, Marty,” Gale raises two fingers to grab the man’s attention and mutters a thanks as his drink is immediately refilled. He turns his attention back to Lila. “He still loves you, Lila. It’s just - hard. Being out here.”

“You seem to be coping fine.”

She feels bitter. Crazy. There’s a sob she has to choke back.

Lila’s too embarrassed to meet Gale’s gaze. Ashamed that everyone knows what’s been going on and she was the ditzy woman being twirled on the dance floor.

“I think I was used to loneliness. He isn’t.”

And he says nothing else as he leaves her behind heading back to his boys. It’s just Lila and her shattering heart and her husband calling to beckon her back to the dance floor.

Luckily they didn’t stay much longer. She walked over to Bucky but he wasn’t able to pull her back out for a dance - it’s my song, Lila! - because Jack Kidd was approaching, letting them know it was time to leave them at the train station.

Lila waited in the car while Bucky ran into his quarters to pack his bag. He didn’t have many things to take, he would be stuck wearing his uniform anyway. Gale walks him back out to the car and despite the earlier conversation Lila exits the safety of the interior to say her goodbyes.

“Take care of yourself, Major,” she squeezes him, “I need you to stick around after this weekend to look after my man.”

“It’s a hard job but I try,” he replies, both of them ignoring Bucky’s protests.

Besides that, Bucky’s quiet on the ride to the train station. He carries her bag on board but he’s quiet for the duration of the train ride. Lila doesn’t disturb him; he might be tired or hungover or both.

And if she’s honest she’s scared of him snapping at her like the night before.

Instead she takes the time to take him in. He’s handsome in his suit. Tall and big and strong, his sharp jaw and powerful mouth, his eyes blue like a sunny day and his curls coming undone from the gel after all the dancing he did.

Lila doesn’t allow her mind to wander down this path too often but suddenly she can’t help it. Would their baby have looked like him or like her? She wishes more than anything they would have had his ears. She wishes they would have had his heart and his strength - but her loyalty. Her faith in them.

It’s crazy when she stops to think she was nineteen when she married him and now she’s twenty-one. She’s loved him for more than she’s been allowed to have him. She has changed without him like he has without her and it’s frightening to think neither of them could be accepting of those changes. Whatever they may be.

Lila shuts those thoughts out, closing the distance between them to sit on his lap. Passerby’s and his horrible mood and what scares her could be damned to hell - all she wants is her man.

John doesn’t deny her; she admits she was a little scared he would.

“I love you,” she tells him, catching his eyes.

“I know.”

He doesn’t return the words as they continue staring at one another but she refuses to let it get her down. This is her husband. She has the rest of her life to get to know him; new or old habits, she doesn’t care.

So instead, Lila plasters a smile onto her face. “What’re you gonna show me first in London, Major?”

“Well I really wanna show you our hotel room,” he plays along, allowing her to trace the edges of his mustache. She lets out a knowing chortle. “And I really want to show you -” he cuts himself off to look around, making sure no one was near them as he leans in to whisper, “- my cock, Mrs. Egan.”

She turns a bright red, trying to sputter out a proper response for that but all she can do is indignantly scold him. “John Clarence! If your mom were here -” and they both break out in loud laughter at the many possibilities of what his mother would exactly do to him if she heard his wicked mouth.

“Wanna grab some grub first?” He asks instead, knowing she hadn’t eaten at the officers club and before then she had been stuck on a plane. “I know a few places.”

Lila nods happily, pressing a kiss to his mouth. His lips are warm and as plump as she remembers them. His mustache tickles her.

“Let me feed you first, woman!” He groans, trying to be a gentleman. “When’s the last time you ate?”

She puckers her lips to think about it and that’s the only answer he needs: food is definitely first.

When they arrive at the hotel John enters to check them in but he slips a few bills into the bell boy’s hand with strict instructions to leave the bags in their room before pulling her back out to the London streets.

Lila felt underdressed surrounded by women in diamonds and fancy hats, and it didn’t help that John was beside her in his uniform looking dapper and catching the eye of many. They were stopped multiple times on the way to the diner; men wanting to shake his hand and show their gratitude while the women introduced themselves, uncaring of Lila under his right arm.

As long as he wasn’t ignoring or dismissing her she realized she didn’t really care. It wasn’t much different back home; everyone knew and loved John Egan.

The diner he chose was small and cozy and his legs were too long to fit under their table so his boot and his knee kept bumping into her own and she adored it. She wanted to feel close to him and since sitting on his lap currently wasn’t an option she figured this would have to do.

He tells her many stories but none of them are sad or tragic. He only shares the happy ones. He talks about how he convinced the Colonel to allow Buck, Curt, and himself a London weekend pass one time and they had shoved Gale into a haberdashery where he tried on a multitude of top hats worth more money any of them would ever see combined. But because they were soldiers and majors at that, the owner allowed it. There’s a museum nearby he talks about wanting to take her too, it showcases art from as early as the 1400s and he says he’s gotten lost in there plenty of times and it was lovely.

All the while, she listens without hearing him. Choosing to take him in and letting her mind wander to how it would be if things were different. It pains her to think how much older he looks since she last saw him. Looking more like it was ten years instead of the measly two. John’s always been one to smile freely but the wrinkles by his mouth, eyes, and forehead aren’t from smiling or laughing too much.

Lila knows they’re from worrying and stressing and being scared and she hates that she can’t understand him or be there for him. No matter how hard he tries.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes when a sob breaks free. She curls in over the table and John’s reaching over to rub her shoulders. She grabs a hold of her hand in his. “I just missed you so much.” She presses a kiss to his knuckles. “I don’t think I know how to not miss you.”

John doesn’t say anything but he motions a server over to settle the bill and once that’s done, he’s taking her hand and pulling her out the chair.

“You got enough food in you?”

All she can do is nod.

Her body feels electric on the short walk back to the hotel. He doesn’t do more than hold her hand and she thinks that is what has her nerves jittery, his palm in her hand sets her alight. She can feel his rough skin and the calluses on his fingers and the fingertips he runs over her skin and she bites back a moan.

Moaning in the middle of a bustling London street? She’d be thrown into an asylum she’s sure.

Beside her he’s quiet but his steps are quick. She has to lightly jog to keep up with long strides. He pulls on her hand to help her keep pace. It makes her think he’s as impatient for it as she is so she was surprised when upon closing the hotel room behind him he stays by the door. Not nearing or touching or kissing.

Just - nothing.

Her throat becomes tight again as she remembers the girl from the night before and her conversation with Gale. Is that the reason why?

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says before she can spiral any further. Approaching her and bringing their lips together in a searing kiss, wasting no time in sliding his tongue alongside hers.

“I love you,” she responds and once again he doesn’t say it back. She figured he wouldn’t but she wanted to try. He takes her mouth in his again.

She gets irrationally angry, suddenly feeling the need to claim him so she bites at his bottom lip. He pulls back to press a finger to his lip, wiping the blood there.

Lila pulls on his belt, dropping to her knees right there in the middle of the room.

Mine. He’s mine.

“Make me your wife again,” she’s not sure but it sounds like she’s begging as she manages to unbuckle his belt and pull them around his strong thighs.

“God,” he breathed, “fuck. Look at you.”

Swollen lips parted for him to put to use. John wrapped his fist around her long hair to maintain a good grip, allowing the tip of his cock to hit the back of her throat. There was no resistance, no gag, her body remembering how it was taught to take all of him even though time had passed. John loved that fucking mouth and he found himself angry as thoughts entered his mind - if anyone had fucked her mouth while he’d been away - and he jerks his hips more forcefully. Rough.

This time Lila does gag. Her hand goes to push against his hip but he doesn’t allow her to pull away.

“Did anyone else do this?”

She splutters, eyes on him and confused with a mouthful of cock, unable to talk.

“Did you suck someone else’s cock? This is mine, Lila. Mine.”

He holds her down for a couple of more seconds before allowing her reprieve. She sputters and coughs, looking at him the entire time.

His dick is still hard and long, standing to attention, and he’s not sure whether he should apologize before she’s taking his bobbing dick back into her mouth. To the back of her throat and gulping and fondling his balls. Her nose kissing the coarse hairs on his belly trail and although it feels fucking amazing - he can feel the anger too. Her anger.

How dare he accuse her.

When she pulls off there’s a strand of saliva connecting his prick to her tongue. She has half a mind to go back for more but he’s pulling her back by her hair.

“I’m so lucky to have a wife who’s cock hungry,” he groans, pulling her to her feet by her hair and connecting their mouths in a rough kiss. Their teeths crash and tongues wrestly and he feels fucking crazy that she tastes like him. Simultaneously ripping each other’s clothes off.

Lila didn’t have any warning. One second she was kissing him and ripping open his shirt and the next she was bent over the bed with her ass in the air. John ran a finger over the wet patch on her underwear. The bite on her cheek was also unexpected and she clawed at the sheets, sure she could come from the feeling alone.

“This is mine, Lila,” he leaned in close, burying his face in her underwear. “Mine.”

All she could do was whimper and agree.

John smacked her ass so hard it jiggled. Lila yelled and after the pain ceded, time seemed to stop. Nothing but their rough breathing filling the room. John had never done that before.

She wasn’t sobbing but there were tears escaping. She was sure he didn’t know. He was waiting for a reaction.

Lila wasn’t sure where this side of her husband came from. Had he held back those two months? Did he learn it in Europe? Was that why there was another woman - because she couldn’t satisfy him?

She can’t lose him.

“Please,” she begs, hiding tears in the duvet, “do it again.”

Lies. It was all lies but John believes her and he strikes again. She yelps, fisiting the sheets. He believes it’s in pleasure.

Ten slaps. That’s how many she endures before he begins shushing and petting her again. He runs his fingers through her folds and although she didn’t enjoy the punishment mentally - she did nothing wrong, he was the liar - her body certainly did. She’s sopping wet, she’s gonna have to throw out her underwear because they’re destroyed.

“Did you enjoy that?” He grabs a fistful of her hair to sit her up, her back against his sweaty, matter chest. “You like being spanked, baby?”

“Yes.” It’s only half of a lie.

“Now - now, I’m going to fuck you. Nice and hard, just how you like it,” she wants to scream at him. She wants to hit him. When did she ever like it hard? When was hard ever nice? Who was he thinking about because it wasn’t her.

But at the same time she rocks back against him to feel his cock hard between her cheeks. She can’t say she doesn’t want it. Him. This.

He pushes her back down at her teasing, using his now free hands to spread her cheeks and show her tight asshole. Untouched and pure. He presses the tip of his cock against it but he doesn’t push. He doesn’t move.

She jerks at the pressure. Drools on the mattress as she tries to bite down to temper her screams.

Do it.

No, don’t.

“One day,” he promises, pressing deeper so her hole opens but not deep enough to push. “But today, today I want this.” And without any prepping like she’s used to, without any more warning, he’s sliding down and pushing into her. Hard. Deep.

She screams, can’t help it, claws at the mattress in an attempt to crawl away.

It hurt but it felt so good.

Who was she?

“You think you can go be with other men? Let them use the holes I trained? The ones that belong to me?” He pumps into her deep. Once, twice. She’s so wet the noises filling the room are pornographic, her yelling and his panting and her sopping wet vagina smacking against his thighs and taking his cock so well. “You like it like this, Lila? Like when I fucking own you?”

“Yes, yes,” she swears and this time she isn’t lying. It’s all she can manage; she thinks she’s gone cock dumb. There are no words, no feelings, just the feeling of him filling her.

She clenches tight when he slides out. She wants him inside her forever.

He releases his hold of her hair, stepping away. He’s tired of muffling her moans and words. He’s tired of not being able to see her beautiful face.

John’s favorite face in the entire world.

“Turn around,” he commands.

Lila kneels on wobbly legs as she turns over, having little to no energy and bouncing as her body lands with no grace on the mattress. John grabs one of her jiggling breasts in his large hand, squeezing tightly.

“I fucking missed these.” He takes one in his mouth, biting down on her nipple hard. She shrieks but holds his head to pull him closer.

Her thighs are forced open by his hand and then he’s taking hold of himself and thrusting in deep again. Releasing her breasts from his mouth in order to look at her mouth. Lila’s face when he’s fucking her is as close to heaven as he thinks he’ll ever get. She’s incoherent but she’s begging for more - that much he can make out. She manages to gather the strength to grab hold of him and pull him down, clawing at his back.

He hisses at the pain and bites on her collarbone to reciprocate it.

When she grabs the nape of his neck, the cool touch of her wedding ring against his skin, it gives him pause. This was his wife. His wife.

John has been gone so long he thinks he forgot he was married.

“I love you,” he finally says it, pressing his forehead against hers as he slows down. He sniffles then, leaning down to press a wet open-mouthed kiss against hers and swallow her moans. John can’t believe he forgot he had this; can’t believe he forgot for a minute how lucky he was. She’s gorgeous (and not just externally) and he’s quite sure he somehow managed to dream her up. “I love you,” he swears again.

This time she’s the one who doesn’t say it.

She clutches at neck and pulls him down to take a boob in his mouth. Looking him in the eye hurts too damn much. Why did he have to do this now? She was lost in the pain; she had been taking her punishment.

Lila squeezed her eyes shut, moaning loudly as she thrashed around the bed. Her orgasm taking over her body. She wrapped both legs tighter around John, squeezing and pulsing around him and dragging him to the edge with her.

“Fuck, fuck,” he roared, “so damn tight. Yes, Lila. My perfect wife.”

For a couple of seconds, they lay in the aftermath. Lila could feel the heat of John’s breath against her neck. She counted how many breaths they shared in between one another as they recuperated.

Forty-seven that’s how many breaths they shared as they stayed connected.

Forty-eight that’s when John managed to lift his head and place a peck against her mouth. One she didn’t return.

Forty-nine that’s when John pulled back in concern. Lila was so still.

Fifty. That’s the breath she used to say, “you cheated on me,” looking him right in the eyes as she broke out in uncontrollable sobs.

She cried and cried underneath him. Unable to move because her legs felt like jello and they held no power. Unable to push him off because she didn’t want to let him go. Unable to speak because she was suffocating in her heartbreak.

John watched her until he couldn’t, until he was afraid she was going to choke on her own tears and then he was sitting her up, trying to ignore the way she fought against his touch.

I’m sorry, I’m here, he kept saying.

I hate you, she thought but didn’t say.

Until finally, “don’t touch me!” She yelled when he got too close and made to wrap her up in a hug. “Get away from me, John. Stay away.” She crawled to the edge of the bed and curled herself into a tiny ball. Aware she was fully naked and he was still leaking out of her but she couldn’t find it in herself to do anything except cry.

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t open her lungs and get any air in. She slapped at the headboard, aware that she was having a panic attack as suddenly everything hit her all at once. It was entirely consuming and she couldn’t do anything to fight against it except cry. All the feelings rushed her at once.

This was going to be it. The weekend of two lovers reunited was the weekend from hell and this was going to be it. She was going to return home in a day and he would stay in Europe and continue to fight the war and seek out other girls and when he returned she wouldn’t be his wife anymore.

Lila would be scornful and full of resentment and miserable and he would leave her. This last time was going to be all she had and she hated him for ruining it.

Why couldn’t he hide his affairs better?

Why did she have to surprise him?

She was perfectly happy not knowing. She was worried and stressed to hell and crying every night missing him but, oh God, all that was better than this.

Lila isn’t sure how long it’s been since she last took a breath but she feels herself fading. She’s shivering and naked in their bed and she can only slightly take in that John’s wrapping her up in the duvet and curling himself around her to warm her up. She’s trying to tell him she can’t breathe, she’s suffocating, at the same time he’s blowing air in her face.

She’s fading when she feels it. A sting on the left side of her face. Hard and sharp and enough to have her gasping for a deep breath.

“Baby, please, wake up,” he’s crying over her, his head on her chest, “wake up. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Her chest aches. She coughs.

He whips his head up so fast she almost laughs. Almost.

“Lila,” he holds her against his chest, rocking them back and forth on the bed as she takes in her surroundings. She isn’t sure how long she was out or how long she was panicking for. Had the sun been setting while she lost her shit? It was dark outside now. “Don’t leave me, you can’t leave me. Please.”

She taps at his arms to get him to release. She doesn’t think she can talk.

John allows her the space but he doesn’t remove himself from the bed. He stays kneeling, watching her. His hands keep twitching like he wants to reach out and touch her but he’s trying to respect her wishes of not being touched.

She doesn’t lay back down, she stays resting against the headboard. Breathing hurts. She’s scared of suffocating once more. Her left cheek begins burning and she wishes she had the strength to go look in the mirror. Did he mark her? She hopes he did.

Lila’s glad he made it hurt.

“You need to go,” she finally manages to say, ignoring the way he’s already shaking his head in defiance. “Leave me here, John. I want you to go. Get another room.” Find another woman. “I leave in a day.” She wishes she never came to stupid London. She wishes she could forget this entire trip.

“Lila it’s the war,” he starts, shaking in his own tears. “It’s all the shit I see, baby. None of it was because of you okay? None. You don’t fucking know what it’s like up there for us but I stay alive in hopes of coming home to you.” He promises.

She shakes her head, fighting back any more tears. How the hell could she still have any tears left?

“But Gale didn’t cheat,” it bursts out of her before she can stop it and she knows it’s the wrong thing to say entirely.

John stops his apologies, clearing his throat as he gets up and begins dressing into his suit. She doesn’t stop him. She doesn’t take back any of what she said. She gets tired of sitting so she lays on her side, staring out the window and noticing London doesn’t have many stars. Is that why it’s so horrible here? Because there were no stars to wish upon.

She could hear his boots stomping on the ground as he reached the door. “Maybe you should have married Gale fucking Cleven then.” And the door slams shut behind him.

She wonders if he’s angry enough to find a girl and sleep with her. Her eyes blur. The time on the clock is six p.m and London’s already dark. She realizes she hasn’t slept since her plane ride. About 19 hours awake - her and John.

Lila allows her eyes to close, hoping when she wakes everything will be better.

Shadows over her eyelids wake her up. Lila finds she hasn’t moved. She’s in the same position facing the window. Facing London, only now bombs are dropping over it. The prettiest colors burst forward in the window but she knows it's truly only tragedy and loss. Murder.

She recognizes John sitting in the arm chair and she wonders when he got back. He isn’t facing her, he’s watching bomb after bomb drop and land no more than mere miles away from them. He’s holding a whiskey on ice, twirling the ice so it hits against the glass.

Lila wonders then if it was the shadows or the noise that woke her up.

“I must have punched in my card a long time ago,” his voice is strong in the dead of the night, seemingly even louder than when he’s singing in the pub. “It must be the reason for all of this. Karma.” He scoffs.

I deserve this, is what he’s trying to say.

Lila feels her stomach twist and spin and there’s bile sitting in her throat. She closes her eyes to stop herself from imagining John in a plane, dropping a bomb that lands on children. She closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to see the hurt sitting on his shoulders.

She remembers how angry she was when he first signed up. Before they were married. They had been dating for over a month, barely, and she already scribbled ‘Mrs. Egan’ over her notebooks. She’d heard it from his younger sister, Eileen, and she felt her world stop. She hadn’t hesitated to run to the stables he worked at and confront him in front of all the men.

“You’re leaving me,” she had accused him. “You’re gonna leave! I’ll never forgive you, John Egan.”

And in front of everyone he’d knelt down and produced a ring, the one his father had given his mother and said, “Marry me.” He didn’t ask because they both knew it wasn’t a question.

She was already his.

And he was hers.

Lila had forgiven him and promised to love, honor, and obey for the rest of her life.

She doesn’t have the strength to stand so even though her throat burns she speaks. “Lay with me,” she croaks. Her voice is raspy and broken and even clearing it aches.

John shakes his head. “You don’t want me to.”

“Lay with me,” she repeats, firm. “I just want to fall asleep with you.”

He looks at her like he's scared to believe. Trying to figure out whether she’s simply being cruel and going to kick him out in her next breath. Or more likely, he’s scared she’ll lose her shit being near him again.

John, hopeful and never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, sets his drink down and nears the bed. Lila keeps her eyes locked on his and he does the same. Their moves and tension resemble a game of chicken, one of them afraid any sudden change can have the other running off.

“Take off your uniform,” she says when he pushes back the covers while still fully dressed. He jerks his head in confusion and she bites her lip to contain a laugh at his dirty mind. Sex is the last thing on her mind. “I want to feel you, that’s all.”

John does as she asks, setting his cap down and shredding every layer before he’s naked and gorgeous and sliding in beside her. She doesn’t allow herself to think about what it means when she immediately slides closer.

Lila’s the one to wrap her arms around him.

Lila’s the one to intertwine their legs.

John follows her lead, lifting an arm so she can raise her head and use it as a pillow. She scoots her face closer and she nuzzles into her armpit, smelling his deodorant and feeling his hairs poke at her nose. She moves further along, escaping the cocoon of his armpit to press her cheek against his chest. She clutches his dog tags in her palm, tight, so he can’t get up in the middle of the night.

“Can we fall asleep together?” She asks, but when she looks up John’s already there.

The next time Lila wakes up her palm aches. She releases what she’s gripping, remembering how she clung to John’s dog tags when he slid into bed beside her. She lifts her head and finds John already looking at her.

He’s got the saddest eyes she’s ever seen and she hates that she’s partly why.

“We should talk,” her voice is low and cracks from not being used. John nods his head but makes no move to begin.

Lila lays her head back on his chest, lightly picking at his matted, curly chest hair. She presses her lips to a freckle near his nipple and his intake of breath lets her know he felt it,

“I’m not the one you write the most letters too,” she starts, finding it easier to not have to look him in the eye. “You write the most to your mom. And I’m not the one who can calm you down when your anger gets the best of you,” she’s so tired of crying, “that’s Gale. “And I can’t even be here for you at the end of a mission to console you or kiss you or help you forget,” she chokes on a sob. “That’s whoever else.”

I couldn’t even keep our baby healthy, she leaves out.

“What’s your point with all this, Lila?”

Lila lifts her head from his chest, “My point is I’m a horrible wife. I - I don’t know if it was too soon or just not thought out but this - I- ” she can’t get the rest of the words out.

“Don’t say that,” John sits up against the headboard, forcing her up as well. He grabs both her wrists in one of his hands to pull her closer and grab her attention. “Don’t fucking tell me that, Lila.”

“I don’t make you happy,” she shakes her head.

“You do. Everything I do, everything I’m doing - it’s for you Lila.”

“I don’t want to marry Gale. Or someone like him. I love you. Only you. But I’m scared that I don’t make you happy. You deserve better.”

“Oh you dumbass,” John coos, suddenly finding the entire situation amusing. He pulls her in for a hug. “You’re my entire fucking heart, Lila Egan. You don’t think you make me happy? You’re the only thing in my life, in my head, that makes me happy.”

She pulls away to hold his face. “If you’re gonna leave me John you need to tell me now. I don’t care about the girls if all they are is to pass the time. And I don’t care that you write to your mom more than me and I don’t care that Gale is the one you listen to but I just need to be the one you love the most. I need to know I’m making you happy.”

His heart aches at the fact that he made her feel she was ever anything less than the most important person in his life. “Lila,” he presses a kiss to her lips, “Rose,” another kiss, “Egan,” another. “Are my only reason for staying alive.”

#mota fic #mota fanfic #john egan x oc #john egan x reader #bucky x oc #bucky egan x reader #bucky egan fanfiction #bucky egan fanfic #john egan fanfic #john egan fanfiction #*made by me

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avatar-anna · 14 hours

Note

would you ever write about harry and y/n finding out that they’re pregnant again with charlie 🥺

yes!

(for context: in a recent oneshot in this universe, it is revealed that harry and reader have a seventh and final child when they're in their thirties)

It would definitely be that cliche of Y/n and Harry going to some red carpet event, and Harry sees Y/n all dressed up and is just like...

"Fuck, Mama, must be the luckiest man in the world."

Y/n blushed and looked down at the gown she and Harry Lambert picked out some time ago. Being a mother of six, she didn't dress up much, but when she did, she tended to go all out. Perhaps part of her wanted to relive all the proms, homecomings, and formals she never got to go to, but she appreciated the art in a beautiful garment too.

The one she wore now fit her like a glove, the lace, almost handkerchief-like bodice draping over her shoulders beautifully, and the rest of the black-as-night velvet hugging her hips perfectly.

Harry was never one to shy away from paying his wife compliments, but each time he did, she felt it right down to her core. Every sweep of his gaze over her body, every earnest word, every searing touch, it all lit her up from the inside out.

This time was no different, so when Harry tried to unzip Y/n from her dress, she didn't notice at first, too caught up in his touch. Once she did, she tried to make lame attempts to ward him off to at least claim that she tried later on.

It was safe to say they were on each other all night. Whenever he could, Harry pulled Y/n away, desperate to get his mouth on her. It was no easy feat with the considerable length of the dress, but he never seemed to care or mind. All night, they whispered back and forth to each other, toying with jacket lapels and bare arms.

"You need me again, Mama?"

"Where's the zipper on this thing?"

"Quickly, while no one's looking."

"Keep your hands away from my tits, H."

"Don't act like you don't love it."

All night they went back and forth. Teasing and giving into each other and sharing stolen kisses when the cameras weren't pointed in their direction—though the next morning they found out they weren't as discreet as they originally thought, with photos of them in the background kissing and Harry's hands all over Y/n cropping up online.

At some point during the night, a friend even asked where Harry and his wife kept disappearing to, another if that was a hickey on his neck, and both of them stumbled through a lie as they blushed furiously.

So it shouldn't have come as a surprise when Y/n's period was late, but it does. She thought she had put her pregnancy days behind her, so she went to the doctor thinking she had some kind of stomach bug, only to find out that she was pregnant. Y/n wasn't upset by the news, just caught off guard, though she couldn't help but daydream about having a little baby in the house again now that her other babies were growing up.

Harry found out on accident. Y/n missed a phone call from the doctor's office, and they called Harry's number, which was also listed in her information. Thinking someone got hurt, Harry picked up in a panic, only to hear, "Hi there, Mr. Styles! We're trying to get a hold of your wife to reschedule her ultrasound. Will the following week work?"

Harry answered in a daze, agreeing to an appointment time and date without really listening. Part of him knew he should be excited, but all he could think about was why Y/n hadn'told him yet.

"Anything you wanna tell me?" he asked later that night. They were both watching TV, a show they'd been watching every night before bed the last few weeks. He'd been itching to get Y/n alone all day so he could finally ask what the phone call, and after picking up and dropping off at friends' houses and volleyball practice and study groups and one big family dinner, now was finally his chance.

Y/n hadn't caught on yet, so she just shrugged. "Collette is convinced she's going to Paris Fashion Week by herself, and I don't have the heart to tell her she's not going without one of us."

This was news to Harry, but he tabled that conversation for later. "I got a call from the OBGYN's office. They asked to reschedule your ultrasound."

Harry could feel Y/n stiffen beneath him as she sighed deeply. Before she could say anything, though, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to," she promised, kissing away the furrow in her husband's brow. "I wanted to tell you and the kids at the same time. And you know how hard it is to wrangle everyone up. Maeve wasn't even at dinner tonight."

"Oh." Harry had spun a number of different answers Y/n might've come up with, but that hadn't been one of them. "Do you...want to keep it?"

Y/n could tell Harry was asking for her sake, not his. He'd been dying for another baby for years, slowly giving up hope every time she turned him down. Now that they faced the prospect of actually having another baby, though, he didn't want her to feel pressured. He never had, but he wanted to make extra sure.

"Honestly? Yeah, I do," Y/n said, resting her and Harry's hands over her belly. "I'm just...kind of shocked."

"Really?" Harry asked. Now that he'd had time to think about it, about which night in question could've been the one, he wasn't that surprised at all.

"Yeah, I—I guess I thought that part of my life was over. But... I'm glad it isn't. I'm excited about this."

"Me too."

Y/n gave him an amused look as if to say, you finally got your wish. But all she said was, "You just like that I get super horny when I'm pregnant."

Harry gasped dramatically, which made Y/n toss her head back and laugh. "That is not even remotely true. Maybe. Sort of. It's perhaps in the top ten things I'm excited for, but not the first."

"You're ridiculous," Y/n said, shaking her head at her husband. "And I love you."

"I love you too." Harry leaned in to kiss Y/n, the feel of his lips on hers more familiar than anything else in the world. He knew every part of her, every inch of her body and soul, and she knew his. It was comforting, it was home.

"Any chance those hormones have kicked in yet?" Harry murmured jokingly as he kissed her neck.

Y/n held her husband by the back of his hair so she could look him in the eye. "Absolutely not. I love you, and I love the twins, but we're not doing that again."

"What? Come on! We're way past that window," Harry reasoned. "And the doctor said it was rare."

"Yeah, so is getting pregnant at my age, but here we are."

"At your age?" Harry asked incredulously, looking down at Y/n through heavy lidded eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, but her eyes were lit as she watched him, the way they always were when they joked around. He was pretty sure no one amused her more than he did, and that was saying something considering the collective craziness their children engaged in regularly. "You're just winding me up, aren't you? You want me to remind you how young and fun we are."

"I don't know if that's—Harry!"

"Shh!" Harry said as a laugh bubbled out of Y/n as he yanked her down until she was lying flat on the bed, her arms pinned high above her. "Do you want them to hear you, Mama?"

That sobered her up a little, her laughter subsiding. Then, she smiled up at him, her hand reaching up to cup Harry's cheek. "We're having a baby."

Harry's grin was immediate, excitement filling his whole body from those four words alone. "We're having a baby."

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader Masterlist

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young dadrry #young mom! reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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saistappen · 1 day

Text

Helpful friend | LN

Warnings — alcohol

In which you just wanted to help lando

In which rules are suddelny broken

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The bass was literally pounding in my ears, while the floor beneath my feet seemed to vibrate more with every step I took.

The lights were dimmed and every now and then a few colorful lights flashed on for a few seconds. It smelled of sweat and alcohol.

Sweaty bodies rubbed against each other so that there was barely room to squeeze past.

My mood slowly hit rock bottom as I tried to get away with saying 'May I? ' which left my mouth in a continuous loop, squeezed past the dancing crowd.

Tonight should actually have been a good night. I was in a club in London with Lando, Aarav, Ria, Niran and Max Fewtrell.

Lando and I had been back in London for a while, where we had bumped into the part of Team Quardrant that we didn't get to see very often.

We had spent the whole afternoon filming a few challenges for the YouTube channel.

Afterwards, we had been driven here to the club, where we wanted to party a little, just like old times.

Everything had gone well at first, until a stranger spilled the contents of his sticky drink on my lap and I had to queue in the long line to the loo for about 45 minutes until I could somehow wipe the sticky liquid off my dress.

The dark stains had been clearly visible in the bright light of the toilet, despite my panicked rubbing around, unlike now in the lushly lit club. Here you could only guess at the stains.

As I squeezed past sweaty bodies and struggled to keep my mouth shut, my eyes wandered through the crowd, searching.

Hoping to get a better look at one of my friends, I stood on tiptoe, but it didn't help much.

Inwardly, I cursed myself for not having worn higher heels. But they probably wouldn't have helped me in this stupid light, which barely provided any light at all.

An annoyed sigh left my lips when I was bumped into again. My eyes closed reflexively and I waited for another sticky liquid to be poured over my body.

But nothing happened.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked into Ria's face, who was looking at me radiantly. Her lipstick was a little smudged, while her hair sat a little disheveled on her head.

Before I had rushed to the toilet queue, I had left Ria alone on the dance floor, where she had probably continued to dance extensively and wildly, as her appearance told me.

" Hey, there you are! " She shouted over the loud music and wrapped her bare arm around me so that I wouldn't get lost in the crowd again.

" I've been looking all over for you, where are the others? " I also called out to her, whereupon Ria raised her eyebrow in confusion and had to think for a few seconds about what I had just asked her.

I couldn't blame her. Ria had already had a bit of alcohol, so my best friend took a little longer to think.

" Over there! " The dark-haired girl pointed her index finger in a certain direction, where I spotted Lando and Niran.

The two of them were standing on the platform where the DJ booth was located and a DJ was just about to heat up the crowd, so a loud roar went through the crowd and I was sure I would wake up with a headache in the morning.

Of course, where else would Lando be?

My best friend had recently become quite interested in the whole DJ thing, so Lando took every opportunity to look over the shoulder of a DJ at work.

" Are you coming with me? " I asked Ria as I took my eyes off Lando and Niran. But Ria was no longer standing where she had just been, but disappeared straight back into the crowd, which literally swallowed her up.

I took a deep breath and resolved to hold my breath from time to time over the next few minutes as I made my way to the DJ booth. Because there really was nothing more disgusting than the smell of sweat.

I kept getting elbowed in the stomach or back, so that my fingernails began to dig into my palms and I had to control myself not to accidentally kick them.

What felt like an eternity later, I had fought my way to the DJ booth. I leaned my head back to look up.

However, once again there was no sign of the Formula 1 driver.

That couldn't be true. How could everyone keep getting away from me?

Once again, my eyes wandered back and forth frantically as the DJ turned the music up a little louder so that I almost had a sudden hearing loss from the large speakers not far away from me.

Grumbling, I pressed my hands firmly over my ears. I had nothing against going to a club with friends to have a bit of fun and dance the night away.

But if there was one thing I loathed more than anything, it was incredibly loud music, lots of people and the smell of sweat.

" Where are you guys? " I mumbled more or less to myself as I found an empty crate and stood on it without hesitating.

I was finally a bit taller and could clearly see over some of the heads of the dancing and drinking crowd.

From a distance, I could see Max standing at the bar with his girlfriend and Aarav and Niran dancing strangely with Ria.

But where was my best friend?

My heart automatically began to beat a little faster, while a slight fear crept up inside me.

I knew that Lando couldn't handle too much alcohol and that he often forgot when it was time for him to stop because of the so-called peer pressure.

I had already seen Lando do strange things when he was drunk.

Lando was the kind of person who was initially quite funny under the influence of alcohol, but things changed abruptly soon afterwards and the McLaren driver quickly became tired.

I had occasionally found him sleeping in the strangest places, such as in the middle of a hedge, leaning against a tree or in front of a flower store.

Suddenly, I spotted the curly-haired man from afar, pushing open the back door of the club and seemingly disappearing into the backyard.

I quickly jumped down from the crate, almost falling over, but quickly caught myself.

I had to hurry to catch up with Lando in time before the Brit could even begin to think strange thoughts.

With difficulty, I literally boxed my way through the crowd towards the back exit. With every meter I walked, I prayed to find Lando in the backyard.

Maybe he just needed some fresh air or a break from the loud music, which I couldn't blame him for.

As I pushed open the steel door, the cool night air of London came straight at me, making me shiver in my sleeveless dress.

I wrapped my arms protectively around myself as I stepped further into the dark backyard and the door slammed shut with a loud thud and the club's music could only be heard muffled.

But the bass could still be clearly felt, so my knees began to tremble slightly.

The backyard was only lit by a single lamp hanging crookedly from the wall of the house, threatening to fall out of the wall with the next bash.

" Hello? " I asked into the barely lit alleyway. To my right were two large garbage cans and countless cigarette butts. The club staff and some guests always had to disappear here to smoke.

To my left was a residential building with a few lights still on, which I couldn't blame given the volume. Although I rather wondered how anyone could voluntarily move next door to a club.

A narrow corridor between the apartment building and the club led back to the street. But the corridor was pitch black.

" Lando? " I almost whispered as I pulled my cell phone out of my small pocket and turned on the flashlight.

What I was doing here was probably a good start for a horror movie. But to be honest, I only felt the slightest hint of fear, which was probably due to my alcohol intake.

My feet slowly walked towards the corridor, which was now slightly illuminated by my flashlight and I could see a little better.

And then I discovered something.

Lando sat leaning back against the brick wall with his head in his hands.

" Lan! " I shouted, almost relieved, as I ran the last few steps towards my best friend and crouched down in front of him.

He raised his eyes and looked at me. His eyes were slightly glazed and had lost their shine, while he was quite pale around the nose.

He must have thrown up.

" There you are, " he slurred slightly as a smile spread across his lips and he wrapped his arms around me.

Surprised by this embrace, I more or less lost my balance and stumbled onto Lando's lap.

My eyes widened as Lando's mouth let out an 'oops' and he began to giggle.

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks and then I began to clear my throat in embarrassment before quickly rising from his lap.

At any other time I probably would have enjoyed this, but definitely not in a drunken state.

" Are you okay? " Lando inquired anxiously as he stood up and began to sway. Another soft chuckle escaped him as he rested his hands on the wall.

" Shouldn't I ask you if you're okay? " I asked as I carefully grabbed Lando's arm to support him.

" Until just now...No..." he mumbled as he slowly put one foot in front of the other and left the dark backyard with my help.

" And now? " I asked when we had finally left the dark alley behind us and were back on the street, which was still a bit busy.

A few cars and pedestrians were still on the road at this late hour and their presence made me feel a little safer.

" Now yes! " Lando beamed. " Because... because you're here. "

Without being able to do anything about it, my stomach began to tingle slightly thanks to Lando's words.

I knew he was drunk and probably didn't even remember what he was saying, but those words still made me feel pretty warm.

" Are you taking me home? I feel sick and I'm suddenly so tired," Lando sulked and then emphasized his statement with a loud yawn.

" I'll do that, but if you feel sick, let me know straight away, okay? "

Lando nodded tiredly. Before I called us a cab, I wrote to the group of friends that Lando and I were already on our way back.

I hoped that one of them would read the message and not panic and search the whole club for us.

It took a few minutes for Lando and I to wait for the cab. While we waited, the Brit told me some weird story about gorillas and red lollipops, which I didn't even understand the context of, but it had certainly been entertaining.

Lando hadn't said a word the whole cab ride, so I assumed he had fallen asleep.

But when the cab stopped at our address, Lando was suddenly wide awake again, so the British man gave the cab driver far too much money and then jumped out of the car.

Without saying a word to the cab driver, I also jumped out of the car and ran after Lando up the driveway.

" Where is the key? " I asked as I came to a halt next to him and Lando's eyes almost fell shut again.

"Jeans," he mumbled and then lifted his arms to give me more room.

Smiling, I reached into Lando's back trouser pockets and shortly afterwards pulled out the key to unlock the front door.

" This is where I live? " Lando looked around the hallway with wide eyes after I had switched on the light and closed the door behind us.

"yes" , I smiled as I put the key in the little bowl on the sideboard and then took off my shoes and put my bag down next to it.

Lando hated it when someone entered his home wearing shoes. He couldn't understand why you could feel at home with shoes on.

But the drunken Lando didn't seem to mind, because when I told him to go upstairs, the Brit ran up the wooden stairs without taking his shoes off first.

So while Lando ran upstairs, I quickly scurried into the kitchen to fill a glass of water and get an aspirin.

Hoping that Lando had already finished brushing his teeth and was in bed, I ran up to the bedroom.

But the bed was empty.

The glass of water and the aspirin found their place on the bedside table, next to a photo of Lando, his friends and me, before I ran over to the bathroom, where the light was on and Lando was sitting on the closed toilet seat, holding two wrapped toothbrushes in his hand.

" What are you doing? " I asked carefully, but apparently not carefully enough, as the Brit flinched and pointed the pink and yellow toothbrush at me.

"Phew, I thought you were a burglar," he mumbled, which made me giggle quietly.

" What are you doing? " With a nod, I pointed to the toothbrushes Lando was holding.

" I wasn't sure if the toothbrush in the cup belonged there, so I'd better get two new ones from the cupboard there," Lando pointed with his index finger to the cupboard under the sink to make it clear to me where he had got the toothbrushes from.

I know, Lando, I said to him in my mind, because I was the one who had got the toothbrushes for him and put them in the cupboard.

"This is yours, Lan," I explained to Lando as I grabbed the orange toothbrush, moistened it with water and then put toothpaste on it before holding it in front of Lando's nose.

"Cool, orange! " he grinned as he took the toothbrush from me and began to brush his teeth in slow movements, his eyes getting smaller and smaller.

" Are you going to be okay? " I asked him with a grin after I had put the packed toothbrushes away again and watched him for a few seconds.

" Brushing your teeth is sooo tiring. Has it always been? " he mumbled with the toothbrush in his mouth, causing a few blobs to drip onto his black shirt.

" Sometimes it's annoying, yes. Come on, I'll help you so it goes faster. "

I squatted slightly in front of Lando and started to help him brush his teeth. I had the feeling that I was looking at a small child and not a 24-year-old man.

After we had successfully brushed his teeth, I followed Lando over to the adjoining bedroom, where the Brit was already slipping out of his clothes.

By now he was hardly swaying, so I was sure that the alcohol was slowly disappearing from his body.

When Lando stood in front of me shortly afterwards in just his boxer shorts and I saw his muscular chest in the dim light produced by the bedside lamp, I almost fainted.

It would be a lie if I said that I hadn't had my eye on my best friend and found him attractive, because he really was.

However, there was a certain rule in our circle of friends that made it impossible for me to fall in love with my best friend, even though it was somehow way too late.

" Ohh, I forgot," Lando mumbled as he reached for the hem of his boxer shorts and tried to take them off too.

" Stop, stop! " I exclaimed in near panic as I pressed my hands over my eyes to avoid seeing my best friend naked, even though I would have loved the view at another time.

" Huh? " Lando asked, and without having to look at him, I knew that he was now standing there with a totally confused face and furrowed eyebrows.

" They stay on. " I slowly released my hands from my eyes again and was pleased to see that Lando was still wearing his boxers.

The dark-haired man nodded sympathetically.

I pulled a pair of sweatpants and a shirt out of his closet, both of which he was supposed to wear to sleep.

The Brit, however, dropped his butt onto the bed and stretched tiredly while he made no effort to get dressed.

So I had not only brushed my best friend's teeth, but also helped him into his clothes.

"You're the best," Lando mumbled as he finally slipped under the light-colored comforter and adjusted the pillow a little.

" Is there anything else I can do for you? " I asked after picking up his clothes, which were scattered randomly on the floor.

" If I asked you if you would stay, would you? " The gleam in Lando's eyes slowly returned, while a smile spread across his lips.

His question almost made the clothes I had picked up fall out of my hands again.

My heart skipped a beat as my hands began to play nervously with the fabric of Lando's shirt.

This had all gone a bit beyond our previous friendly boundaries. But sleeping in a bed with him would go completely beyond the scope, wouldn't it?

I couldn't just give in to Lando's drunken state because my heart in love wanted to scream yes out loud.

" Please ", he almost begged, while I still didn't move and almost clutched his clothes tightly. " You can wear something of mine to sleep in too. "

This sentence didn't make Lando's request any easier, because the butterflies woke up in my stomach, flapping their wings gently back and forth in my belly and my cheeks became slightly warm.

" U-uh...uhm you know that's against the rules? " I asked in a squeaky voice.

God, why were the rules suddenly so important to me?

" But there's no one here who made the rules. So no one needs to know about this, right? After all, I've always been against the rule that you can't date anyone from your circle of friends. "

Another grin formed on Lando's lips as he slowly pulled back the comforter and stood up.

A few steps later, the Brit stood in front of me.

"Besides, it's already too late for that rule anyway," he breathed more or less into my ear, causing goose bumps to spread all over my body.

And before I could even begin to open my mouth to say something back, Lando walked over to his closet and a short time later pushed some clothes towards me.

" I won't take no for an answer, because I know you feel the same way. "

With these words, Lando pushed me into the bathroom and before he closed the door, he winked at me.

And so he left me with an explosion of emotion.

I didn't know how long it had taken me to collect myself and then leave the bathroom changed.

All my emotions had gone so crazy with Lando's words that even after the long time I had spent in the bathroom, I walked back to the bed with trembling knees.

Lando was still awake. He lay covered up in bed and began to look me up and down with a grin as I scurried over to the free side of the bed.

My cheeks turned red again, so I quickly pulled the comforter over me and started tugging at the hem of Lando's shirt, which I was wearing, from under the comforter.

There was quite a big gap between Lando and me, which the Brit didn't seem to like.

He quickly wrapped his right arm around me and pulled me so close to him that my head automatically rested on his chest.

And so I could hear his rapidly beating heart.

" Do you hear how fast it beats? It always has since you've been around me," he more or less breathed to me as he wrapped his arms protectively around me and I felt a gentle kiss wash over my hair.

Damn, what was he doing to me?

My cheeks heated up again and my heart began to beat faster. Our hearts were probably fighting to see whose heart beat faster.

" Lando ", I whispered into the darkness a few minutes later, but it was too late.

The Brit had already returned to the land of dreams and left me alone with my rapidly beating heart and my thoughts.

And I hoped that he wouldn't regret this when he woke up tomorrow.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 #formula one

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apomaro-mellow · 2 days

Text

Family Planning 2

Part 1

When he got home that evening, he called both Tommy and Carol to let them know he wouldn’t be able to pick them up the next morning. All in service to the big reveal tomorrow. The fake stomach had been smuggled out of the theatre department and only now did Steve take it out, alone in his room.

He put it on with surprising ease and looked himself over in the mirror, snickering to himself. Then he put a shirt over it and widened his eyes at how realistic it looked. His arms slowly wound around to cradle his stomach. He let himself imagine that it was actually his, that it was actually his and Eddie’s.

“Yeah right”, Steve scoffed, like he was trying to convince himself as he took it off.

The next day, Steve was having breakfast with his parents when he heard someone pull up to the driveway. Not just someone. It could only be-

“Who is that?”, Steve’s father Richard frowned at the van out front.

“That’s my Home Ec partner. Gotta run!” He gobbled the rest of his cereal, put his bowl in the sink, kissed his mother’s cheek and then ran out the door. Once he got in the passenger side, Eddie took off, not even waiting for him to have his seatbelt on.

“Jesus, why are you in such a rush? Is that anyway to treat someone who’s expecting?”

“Sorry, just excited”, Eddie said, putting the pedal to the metal.

Steve could understand. He was kind of feeling a buzz too, but he wasn’t about to admit it. On the way to school, he worked on slipping the fake belly over his real one.

Eddie wasn’t exactly a virgin. He’d messed around a couple of times before. But even so, seeing Steve’s bare torso, his belly button and happy trail, he kept from swerving only just because he was turning anyway. He kept his eyes on the road, resolute, after that. What a stupid way to die, ogling a guy who’d never given you the time of day. Because of his focus, he didn’t get to see Steve’s new look until he parked.

It looked so…natural. He swallowed, eyes moving slowly up his body to meet the omega’s.

“Are you ready?”, Steve asked.

Eddie grinned. “It’s showtime.” He got out first and then went over to Steve’s side, clearing his throat before he spoke. “Watch your step, baby.”

Steve’s ears burned at the pet name. They had made this grand plan, pretending to be expecting parents. But he hadn’t really visualized what that would look like in practice besides the dropped jaws of their peers. Eddie held his hand out to help Steve out of the van, all part of the show. And when he finally stepped out all the way it was like he could hear the hush come over the parking lot.

Everyone who caught sight of them was trying to do the mental gymnastics to make sense of what they were seeing. Eddie snickered as he put an arm around Steve’s shoulders, enjoying the spectacle. They walked passed a few cars before getting to Tommy’s truck, where he and Carol were leaning against the bumper.

“What the hell am I looking at?”, Carol said, eyes bugging out of her head.

“This has gotta be some kind of joke”, Tommy glared in confusion.

And even though Steve was their friend, their befuddlement kept them from approaching. As it did to others. Everyone just stared on. Only a few knew that they’d been paired for the Home Ec project. Plenty knew about the lunchroom incident but didn’t exactly know how Steve was involved. Eddie walked Steve to his locker and only then did he take his arm off his shoulders.

“Time for Papa Bear to bring home the bacon. Don’t miss me too much.” He bent over to kiss Steve’s false belly and then skipped off. For all his bravado, there was a part of him that was nervous that Steve might think he went too far. Best to get out of whopping distance in that case.

No one had ever kissed his stomach before. But then again, Steve supposed no one had a reason to. Even though he hadn’t really felt it, the place Eddie kissed tingled all the same. He quickly checked himself before going off to class. It wasn’t like he liked the man. They’d barely spoken to one another. Maybe he was a little easy on the eyes, nice hair anyway. But the man’s fashion sense left a lot to be desired.

Steve’s thoughts were cut off when his homeroom teacher choked at the sight of him. Everyone else in the room stopped talking. Steve entered with his head held high but for a moment he wondered if this was how it would be if he actually got knocked up. How long would it have taken him to show? Would people stare this much? He vaguely recalled a girl last year who got pregnant. Of course, she dropped out and Steve had no idea what became of her until he happened to see her at the grocery store, carting a pup along.

She seemed content. Although he now realized he had no idea what happened to the person who sired her pup or who they even were. The double standards had always been apparent to Steve but even more so now that he was stepping into that role.

At some point during class, he started resting his hand on his stomach. It just felt natural. And then he began to rub it. It wasn’t hard to imagine it was all for real. It was just hard to wrap his head around having a baby himself. Steve had never gone steady with anyone. What kind of alpha would he eventually be with?

The thoughts ran through his mind for the remainder of homeroom, when Eddie showed up to come and ‘pick him up’.

“Did my two darlings miss me?”

“It wasn’t even half an hour”, Steve rolled his eyes. He was aware that Eddie didn’t attend his own homeroom because that was usually when he went out to the abandoned picnic area to sell his party favors. Bring home the bacon, indeed.

Eddie escorted him to his next period, which he shared with Carol and Tommy. Of course, they were already there and before the period officially started, they grabbed Steve and made an exit. Loitering in the halls when they should be in class wasn’t out of the ordinary, especially for a teacher that droned like Mr. Parsons, but he could tell this wouldn’t be their usual hang out session.

“What’s the deal with that?”, Carol cut right to the chase, pointing at his torso.

The hallway was empty, everyone either in class or loitering elsewhere. Steve just shrugged while smiling. He knew jokes like this weren’t their thing, which is why he didn’t bring it up before the reveal. They were more into the kind that were at other’s expense.

“It’s just a gag. And a way to not fail Home Ec this year.”

“Did Munson put you up to this?”, Tommy crossed his arms.

“He came up with the idea but clearly I had nothing against it.”

Carol’s face was green. “You look ridiculous. What if people actually think you’re pregnant?”

“Then they’d be stupid”, Steve said. No one went from flat stomach to showing in a day. It was such a change that his shirt almost didn’t fit him.

Tommy shook his head. “You had like, one detention with him and he’s got you all flipped around, doing his bidding.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that. And it won’t even be that long. We’ve got a plan.”

The rest of the day went by with the same gawking and staring that had begun in the morning, especially when Eddie sat at Steve’s table during lunch. If looks could kill, he would have been double dead by the way Carol and Tommy were glaring. Steve paid their attitudes no mind and treated it as if Eddie always sat there.

At the end of the day, Eddie took Steve home and he took the belly off on the drive back. They looked at each other, rather pleased with themselves.

“I can’t believe the looks on all their faces”, Eddie beamed.

“I think some of those jaws are still on the floor”, Steve said.

“Ready for the big climax tomorrow?”

Steve took a breath. “As I’ll ever be. Think this’ll actually get us back on track for the assignment?”

“That or we get suspended. But! Engels won’t wanna deal with me for a whole other year and you’ve got the untouchable quality of being on a sports team, so they’ll probably let us off with an essay.”

“God, I hate essays”, Steve rubbed his face. “Why makes us write five hundred words when I can say it in like 12?”

“You think five hundred words is a lot? That’s adorable.”

Steve scowled at him and Eddie gave a very dramatic wince. To the point where he fell back against the driver side door with his hand to his heart.

“There it is! The Royal Evil Eye!”

“Shut the hell up”, Steve scoffed.

“If it makes you feel any better about our situation, I don’t mind helping you with that essay. We’ll probably be spending many afternoons in detention after tomorrow.”

Steve didn’t know when the prospect of such a punishment didn’t seem like such a drag anymore. With Eddie around at least it wouldn’t be boring.

“It’s the least you can do”, Steve said as he opened the door. “If you’re gonna be my alpha, take responsibility.”

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

The next day started the same but this time, both Eddie and Steve were a little nervous. Yesterday was like a pre-show compared to what would go down today. They had Home Ec today and if their teacher hadn’t heard about Steve’s new predicament, she’d find out the moment they walked in.

Steve skipped homeroom that morning, going with Eddie into the theatre department where one of Eddie’s friends, Gareth, was helping them with this final stunt.

“Okay, are you guys really sure you wanna do this?”

“Just tell me you got it rigged to max pressure”, Eddie said.

“Dude, the whole classroom is going to be a splash zone”, Gareth assured him.

“How do you know how to do all this?”, Steve asked.

“You know those guys who do effects in horror movies? That’s gonna be me one day.”

The period for Home Ec came and Ms. Engels’ eyes got wide watching Eddie walk in with his arm around Steve’s waist. There were snickers coming from the other students as it was clear she had NOT heard that they had a bundle on the way.

“Just what do you two think you’re doing?”

“By my watch, I’d say arriving to class a full minute early”, Eddie said just as the bell rang. “Oh, mine must be a little fast.”

“You were told to show that you can handle the responsibility of parenthood”, she began to scold as they took their seats, this time right next to each other.

“What’s more responsible than this”, Steve said. “I’m all ready to become a mother.”

She glowered. “Teen pregnancy is a serious issue.”

“Then why don’t we learn anything useful?”, Eddie challenged. “All this school has taught us is ‘don’t have sex, oh but in case you do, here’s a bag of flour’. How does a bag of flour teach us anything about babies?”

“I’m calling the principal”, Ms. Engels said, going to the phone on the wall. “Detention will be the least of your worries.”

Eddie stood up. “Careful, you don’t want to put stress on my Stevie. He’s due any minute now.”

“Principal Woolsley, the Munson boy is at it again. I need you in my room this instant.”

“I’m warning you”, Eddie said.

“Are you threatening a teacher!?”

“Eddie!”, Steve gasped. “That baby’s coming!”

“Oh you’ve done it now Engels!”, Eddie shook a finger at her and then helped Steve to stand up like he was actually going through labor.

The rest of the class watched on, engaged in the spectacle. Eddie went right over to Ms. Engels’ desk and in one sweep, brushed everything off her desk and onto the floor. There were gasps and shrieks and guffaws and Eddie lived for it as he brought Steve over to lay on top of it.

“Okay, honey here we go. Just breathe and push with me.”

“This is completely unacceptable!”

“And push!”

Steve’s face only showed glee as he pretended to push the baby out, waiting for Eddie’s cue. He really was some kind of showman, hamming it up for his audience. He waited for the tension in the room to rise before he went around to Steve’s front, peering between his clothed legs.

“I think I see a head! It’s time to really push!”

A few heads craned like they’d actually be able to see a pup crowning when Steve was still wearing his jeans. It was the suspense of whether or not something, anything would come out. Eddie went back to Steve’s side and held his hand, grounding him. Steve took a breath and they let Gareth’s work explode.

Right into Mr. Woolsley’s face.

The tomato sauce was pretty thick, filled with chunks that would’ve been a pretty good stand in for viscera. But even through it all, they could see the man’s red face. His voice was scarily even as he spoke.

“I’m calling your parents.”

Part 3 coming soon

Tag Team

@marklee-blackmore @aol19

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o

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queenshelby · 11 hours

Text

Forbidden Desire (Part 24)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

As Tommy stood there, watching you leave the ceremony, his heart clenched in a way it never had before. He wanted to chase after you, to tell Lizzie that this was a mistake, but he couldn't. The weight of obligation and responsibility kept him anchored to the spot, bound by the promise he had made.

He had contemplated his options all night long, haunted by the memory of your lips on his and the way your body had felt against his own.

He was restless and as the priest kept on talking, he couldn't even focus on the words anymore. All he could think about was you, his niece - his forbidden love, and the life that they could never have together.

His body was tense, and his mind was absent when the priest as for his vows, Tommy simply looked at him, silently, causing the priest to repeat the question.

"Do you, Thomas Shelby, take Lizzie Stark to be your wife, as long as you both shall live?"

Tommy's gaze lingered on the priest for a long moment, his thoughts racing and conflicting emotions crashing over him. Finally, he swallowed hard and spoke up, in a strong, steady voice.

"Lizzie, I am forever grateful for your love and the life you've brought into mine, but I can't fucking marry you," Tommy said, with a serious look on his face but without an apology.

The entire church fell silent as the words sank in and Lizzie stood there, blinking slowly, her vows falling from her hands.

The look of shock and hurt on Lizzie's face made Tommy's heart beat quickly. Never before had he been so brutally honest about his feelings, but he could no longer deny what was inside of him anymore.

"Tommy?" Lizzie gasped softly, her hand reaching up to her throat in surprise. "What do you mean you can't marry me?" she asked, her words barely above a whisper as her heart raced in her chest.

Tommy shook his head, guilt etched into every line of his face.

"I am sorry Lizzie, but I can't do this. I thought I could, but I can't. There is a woman whom I love, and this woman is not you," he told Lizzie as her eyes filled with tears and she trembled from head to toe but she stood there, silent, unable to gather her thoughts.

The priest looked horrified as he watched the drama unfolding, not knowing what to do next.

Meanwhile, outside the church, you had heard Tommy's words and your heart sank.

You leaned against the cold stone wall, trying to catch your breath. Your heart ached within your chest as you realized that his words were about you.

But even as relief washed over you, guilt quickly followed. You knew that this was impossible, the attraction between you and Tommy - a love and desire that went beyond accepted norms, meaning this could never be.

"It's this fucking whore, isn't it?" you heard Lizzie scream through the thick walls of the church as her voice trembled with anger. "Your own fucking n...," she began to say but was immediately cut off by Polly who had rushed toward the couple on the alter the moment she had heard Lizzie's outburst.

"Now is not the time, nor the place, Lizzie," Polly said sternly, shielding Tommy from the wrath of his jilted bride as she was about to expose his secret affair with you.

The church remained silent, save for the heavy breathing of those present and distant whispers filling the air.

The shame burning on Lizzie's face was unbearable, and she lowered her eyes in defeat. Though her pride had been severely wounded, she wasn't naïve. She knew whom Tommy loved. But hearing him reject her in front of all these people was something she hadn't expected.

"Let's go and have a drink to calm your nerves and then we will talk about what happened," Polly said reassuringly, leading Lizzie away from the altar, and toward the exit.

Outside the church, you remained leaning against the wall, your thoughts swirling. You wondered what Tommy's next move would be and when he would come for you and when Lizzie saw you, calmly smoking a cigarette , she strode towards you, her eyes blazing with fury.

"You are the reason for this," Lizzie accused you, causing your heart to race within your chest. "The whole world thinks that I am a laughing stock now, but let me assure you, I will make your life even more miserable than you made mine you fucking whore," Lizzie told you while you remained silent, unwilling to confirm or deny her accusations.

"Lizzie, time and place! Let's go!" Polly interrupted, quickly leading Lizzie away from you and towards her Bentley.

You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched them leave.

The tension was thick in the air, and you could feel every eye on you. The whispers grew louder, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of shame creeping up your neck.

You quickly dropped your cigarette onto the gravel and crushed it beneath your heel, before straightening your shoulders as you finally saw Tommy, walking towards you alongside your father.

"Now that was a fucking disaster," your father said with a whistle, but you didn't find the situation funny in the least. "Let's get pissed, eh? And forget that this ever happened, shall we?" he then suggested, causing his wife Linda to shake her head.

"No Arthur, let's get home," she told him sternly while you turned to Tommy, searching his deep blue eyes for answers, but all you could find were reflections of your own guilt.

Being in the presence of your father, you knew that he couldn't say anything, and neither could you. The tension between you and Tommy was palpable, the moments stretching on as you both took each other in.

You couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. Was he feeling regret and remorse for not being able to go through with the marriage? Or was he glad to be free of his loveless relationship right now?

Arthur's eyes darted between his brother and you, sensing the tension but unsure of its actual cause. You could feel yourself growing more anxious by the second, your heart hammering within your chest and, as Linda demanded for your father to leave with her, you were glad to finally have a chance to speak your mind.

"I'm sorry, Tommy. I should never have come here," you murmured softly, your eyes brimming with unshed tears as you tried to communicate all the emotions that were coursing through your veins in a single silent look.

Tommy looked at you for a long moment, his blue eyes searching yours for any hint of regret or resistance.

"No," he finally said, clearing his throat. "I am glad you did, because you made me realise something that I have forgotten ever since I returned from France," he added, his voice stronger and more assured than you had ever heard it before. "None of this matters. This business. Money. Fucking nothing matters ," Tommy muttered, his voice low and passionate. "Fuck parliament and fuck this deal. Let's just fucking leave, eh? Just you, me and our son," he continued to say, all of his previous restraint thrown to the wind.

You stared at him, your heart fluttering wildly with shock. His words lingered in the air between you like a promise of something new and unexplored. The thought of leaving everything behind, of starting anew, was terrifying and you quickly quietened him down.

"Sshh , not here," you murmured, taking in a deep breath to steady your racing heart.

The last thing you wanted was for the rest of your family to hear his words and realize what he had just confessed to you. This desire, this forbidden love, could never see the light of day.

In another time and place, perhaps it could have grown into a beautiful reality, but not within the narrow-minded constraints of 1920's England.

"If I know one thing Thomas Shelby, it is that you could never live a life away from fucking Birmingham. You crave this. You crave the power and the thrill of it all. After France, this is exactly what you needed. Your mind needs to be occupied, and you are good at it. You are exactly where you belong and I know that you will never be able to live a quiet life with me, away from family, without losing part of yourself," you continued, with a sad smile.

Tommy stared back at you, unable to deny the truth in your words. His whole life had been dedicated to this life, and he knew that nothing else would truly satisfy the deep-seated desire for power and control. It was an addiction of sorts, one that he couldn't simply shake off even if he wanted to.

With that, he nodded in defeat before, without many more words, leading you to his Bently just as the last of the guests came walking out of the church with a look of disappointment on their faces.

"This is not the way back to Arrow House," you noticed as Tommy started driving, leaving the whispers of the guests far behind.

"No, it is not. I need to go somewhere else. Somewhere where I can think," he told you finally, after minutes of silence, before taking a left turn to a place you had not been before.

As the Bentley took the final bend in the country road, your breath caught in your throat. The landscape was bathed in the golden glow of sunlight breaking through the clouds; its rays illuminated a sprawling green hill and a small Gypsie wagon.

"What is this place?" you asked him, eyes widening to take in the sight before you that tugged at your heartstrings more than any erotic encounter ever had. This place seemed magical and romantic; two things you thought were impossible with Tommy Shelby.

"This is where I come when I want to be alone," he said, pulling to a stop just short of where the wagon stood.

"But you are not alone. I am right here with you," you said gently, reaching over to rest your hand on top of his.

Your voice was soft but it carried a strength that echoed within him; it brought comfort beyond anything he had ever experienced before.

Tommy parked the car and led the way up the hill. At the top, as your breath caught in your chest once more, this time at the beauty all around you, he paused, watching you take in your surroundings before he began to speak.

" This place belonged to my mother. When she died, the land and the wagon were given to my uncle. I spent a lot of time here growing up, and it's still where I come whenever I need to think," Tommy revealed, the words slipping out as easily as if he had been telling you about his day instead of something far more deeply personal.

A haunted look lingered in his eyes, and for a moment, you could almost see the boy who mourned the loss of his mother and sought solace in a wagon tucked away on a high hill.

"Do you want to tell me what it is that you are thinking about?" you asked Tommy, as you both stared off into the distance.

Your hand remained on top of his and your thumb absentmindedly traced circles across the back of it as you watched a little bird fly past, soaring effortlessly through the air before disappearing from view.

Tommy turned his head towards you, blue eyes meeting yours before he glanced down at your hand and slowly lifted it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against it.

"I am thinking about how to make this work," he replied softly, watching as the breeze stirred loose tendrils of your hair around your face.

His voice was calm, but you could sense the urgency in his words, a silent plea for you both to find a way.

"You know you can't just leave everything behind and run off with me and we cannot be together otherwise. Not with your family knowing," you said gently, your heart heavy with the reality of their situation.

You couldn't pretend that things could be any different, no matter how much you longed for them to be.

Tommy nodded slowly before turning to look out across the fields once again.

He released a long, slow sigh before finally speaking.

"I know, but I will come up with a plan to make this fucking work, eh," he started, a determined look glinted in his eye as, suddenly, he heard a voice speak up behind the two of you.

"It better be as good as my plan," your aunt Polly said, startling you both, even causing Tommy to draw his gun.

Polly raised an eyebrow with some amusement as she calmly stepped forward while Tommy put his weapon away, back into the holster beneath his suit jacket.

"How did you know how to find us?" Tommy asked , surprise and concern in his voice.

"I have eyes everywhere," Polly replied, with a quiet chuckle. "I knew about your mother's wagon for years and the peace it brought you when the world felt out of control, especially when you came back from France" she said as she took a seat on a patch of grass next to you.

"Now listen, I have spoken to Lizzie and she agreed to keep your little secret safe so long as you provide generously for her and Ruby, the monies for which, I may add, will not come out of the company's account," Polly said sternly as she stared at Tommy, waiting for his reply.

Tommy's eyes narrowed in thought before he finally nodded, understanding the weight of the situation.

"Of course," Tommy replied simply.

Polly looked at him for a long moment before she finally spoke up once more.

"Now, as far as your relationship with each other is concerned, I suggest that Y/N and your son remain with you at Arrow House for their own protection," Polly continued in a business-like manner.

"Protection from what?" you asked , your brow furrowed in confusion as you looked from your aunt to Tommy.

"Protection from the men who burned down the Midland Hotel," Polly explained, causing Tommy to furrow his eyebrows as well.

"These men have been dealt with, Pol," Tommy explained, causing his aunt to smile.

"I know, but Arthur, John and the rest of our men don't know that, which ultimately gives Y/N and her son a reason to stay with you for now," Polly said, glancing at you before she finally continued. "It is the perfect disguise for you to continue this rather inappropriate relationship with one another without anybody finding out about it," Polly then chuckled , causing you to blush slightly while Tommy frowned at his aunt's playful jab and whilst she did not exactly approved of what you were doing with each other, she knew that, without you, Tommy had been miserable, leading him to make bad and dangerous business decisions.

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hiraethwrote · 1 day

Text

your only competition - satoru gojo

[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]

✧ summary: constantly trying to one up each other, youre always at each others throat. swearing you hate the other, neither want to admit that you might enjoy your time spent together. until... ✧ cw: academic rivals, some swearing, poorly written combat scenes (sorry), injuries, mentions of blood, bickering, some angst, slight comfort, no use of y/n, somewhat proofread ✧ word count: 5.0k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Satoru Gojo was the best, in every sense of the word. Being the first sorcerer in centuries to be born with the Six Eyes definitely counted for something. And so he began to excel well beyond his classmates, fairly enjoying the spotlight that went with his rare abilities. Wasn’t it always nice to get recognition for your achievements? Satoru thought so at least.

Sitting alone at the top, he was sent on solo missions for curses his peers couldn’t face. That was, of course, until the day you showed up. He didn’t know it at the time, but that warm September day you walked into the classroom would be burned into his memory for as long as he’d live.

Everyone’s heads had perked up when an unfamiliar individual had paraded into the classroom, following close behind Yaga. You'd held your head high, hands tucked neatly behind your back while Yaga introduced you as the new student. It had to be a joke, Satoru had thought, a snicker playing on his lips at the sight of you. Gathering as much information as he could just by letting his eyes travel you, he couldn’t sense a single ounce of cursed energy, so why were placed in their class?

Your eyes shined with a childlike innocence, like you were totally unaware of the world you were all living in. One could feel you radiate a sense of hope that only came from being inexperienced. Oh, how hard the harsh reality would hit you once you were faced with what was out there.

After class, Shoko had yanked Satoru back into the classroom by his uniform, her eyebrows furrowed in a strict scowl. “I know what you’re thinking, Satoru.” He stared back at her with big eyes, pretending he didn’t know what she was getting at. “She’s been sheltered, we all saw it. So it’s important you behave!”

“I always behave.” He slumped over as he spoke, appearing more weakly to enforce his dumb act.

“I mean it, Satoru. She’s going to need our help.”

He took his index finger and drew an X over his heart. “You have my word.” His infamous smirk still danced on his lips, which made Shoko not believe him for a second. She knew there wasn’t much she could do if he’d already decided to tease you. With a disappointed shake of the head, she left him standing with his hands in his pockets.

Satoru kept his eye on her until she had turned a corner. The second she was out of sight, he darted in the opposite direction with a clear mission in mind, managing to catch up with you as you were walking down the hall to your dormitory.

“Hey, wait up.” With a curious look, you turned to the source of the voice that called your name. Pacing towards you, was a tall, lanky fellow with locks white as snow, the biggest shit-eating grin you’d seen in a long time, wearing a pair of characteristic sunglasses.

“You must be the one and only Satoru Gojo,” you said, mirroring his expression as you defensively crossed your arms over your chest.

“I see Yaga already told you about me.”

“No, not really,” you shrugged, your tone taking him by surprise. “But it’s not like your name is unknown in our world.”

“So what have you heard about me then?” He bent forward to be on your level, fishing for compliments, making you feel patronised.

“Don’t feel like inflating your ego more. It’s already dangerous walking around with a head big as yours.” Satoru instantly jerked back into a straight position, retrieving his hands from his pockets to regain a more dominant position.

“Well, aren’t you cute,” he said sarcastically.

“Was there something you wanted?”

Looking down on you, he began to wonder if you were putting on a face, intentionally giving off the impression of being reckless and empty headed. Therefore he had started to theorise the bounce in your step didn’t come from being inexperienced; it came from a film belief that you were better than what people gave you credit for.

“It not every day a new sorcerer joins us, so I’m just curious about what makes you special?” The self satisfied smirk was back on his face in order to seem unbothered by your snarky remarks.

“What’s it to you?” Fuck you, was the first thought that crossed his mind when you’d once again, shut him down. You weren’t giving him anything to go on, not verbally or on any level his Six Eyes could detect.

“We’re classmates now. A team — think I could benefit from knowing,” he said gallantly.

“You’ll know soon enough,” you smirked at him as you began to back away towards your room.

His smile slowly faltered, his eyebrows narrowing in frustration. “Good luck.”

“Sure, thanks,” you waved nonchalantly over your shoulder as you entered your room without another word.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, he still couldn’t pin point anything about you. The only logical explanation to having an ignorant demeanour whilst having a sharp tongue would be you were able to fend for yourself. Then why couldn’t he sense any power on you?

But as you’d said, he would find out soon enough. Even as soon as the next day, when you’d all met for sparring. It was like the higher ups had heard his prayers, because he had been paired up against you. His excitement didn’t go unnoticed by Shoko, who kicked him weakly in the shin to try and smother it.

“You go easy on her, mister,” she’d said so only he was able to hear.

“Don’t worry, Shoko. I’m not cruel. I’ll end it quickly so she won’t humiliate herself too much,.”

Once you were both firmly placed on your respective positions, both with a staff in your hands, he made sure to capture your gaze. “Are you ready for this, sweetheart?” His tone was as sweet as sugar, never breaking the eye contact as you both leaned forward in a bow.

“Are you, sweetheart?” You said, narrowing your eyes at him. He hummed softly at your comment, entertained by the attitude he knew he’d wipe off you the second the sparring started.

After being underestimated for years and years, you'd eventually had no choice but to learn how to use it to your advantage. You leaned into the role of an unintelligent girl who went into every situation without thinking. People became sloppy when they faced you, confident they’d easily take you out.

Satoru was no different. What was worse, was how he didn’t even try to hide how sure he was that you were weak. His smile said it all.

Yaga signalled for you to start, instantly tightening your grip on your staff before striking it directly at him. He was a little startled at how you immediately went for the offensive, but he swiftly dodged the attack just as you had expected. You exploited his dodge, by having the staff spin around before smacking him in the back of the head, stumbling over the foot you had strategically placed in front of him.

Tumbling forward, he finally managed to steady himself only to be faced by Suguru and Shoko standing on the sidelines, both choking back the laughter about to spill out of them. None of the three students had expected you to be so aggressive from the get go, let alone succeed at it.

He shook off the shock, not to mention the pain, from the hit before turning back to look at you. The playfulness had seized to exist and now there was determination written all over him. The corner of your lips perked up in a content smirk.

His staff came piercing through the air, you spun away in the last second before flipping the staff and deflecting his next move, trapping his weapon under yours. You turned to look at him and he didn’t like the mischievous expression plastered on your face.

“What are you playing at?” He asked with a small pant. Your smile only grew at the sight of his frustrated demeanour.

This was the part you loved, the moment you could see it in your opponent’s eyes that they had severely misjudged you. And in their epiphany, you knew they still wouldn’t be able to read you clearly. That being said, you were fighting no other than Satoru Gojo, who even if he couldn’t predict your next move, could be able to take you out regardless.

Suddenly, you felt your staff slip and glide against his. He quickly took advantage of how you’d put your weight on the staff. Before you knew it, you felt the impact of his staff slam against your back.

You found your footing before you reactively threw your elbow at his face. A scoff of surprise slipped out of you when it stopped an inch from his face without him doing anything.

“Asshole,” you breathed. This was the oh-so-famous infinity you had been told about, but you didn’t quite understand it or how it worked. It was no secret that Satoru was well on his way to become the strongest, but he wasn’t there just yet. So maybe you could give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he wasn’t a hundred percent in control of his infinity, that it had been an instinctive reaction.

Nevertheless, it was what you had waited for. You’d wanted him to be the one to resort to his powers first so you could shamelessly use yours.

His breath hitched in his throat when an overwhelming wave of unfamiliar power crashed over him. “What the-“ he didn’t understand what was happening. Was this your power, and why hadn’t he been able to sense it earlier? Had you really been able to block him out from getting insight in your technique?

He didn’t even realise what was happening until he was jerked into the air before slamming against the floor with immense force, landing on his shoulder. The room were quiet for a solid ten seconds before he staggered back on his feet before slow claps in your honour was heard from his friends.

“What the hell was that?” He panted, approaching you with quick steps as his hand rubbed circles on his shoulder.

“That was how you win,” you said in between heavy breaths, leaning your hands on your knees.

“That’s not what I mean,” he nearly growled. Before he was able to interrogate you further, a friendly slap was placed on his back.

“Just admit it, Satoru. She beat you,” Suguru said with a low chuckle. Satoru didn’t even flinch, he kept his gaze pinned on you.

“But you cheated,” he said with a displeased chuckle. You didn’t even entrain his comment, only turning away from him and starting to walk out of the gymnasium. “Hey, I’m talking to you. That last move was dirty.” You heard his footsteps hurry over to you again.

“How’s that?” Snapping around to face him, folding your arms over your chest. “By using my technique? If that’s the case, you’re nose should be bleeding right now.”

With worried eyes, Shoko and Suguru watched your bickering from afar, knowing exactly how this relation was going to play out. The loud argument in the gymnasium was only the beginning of your rivalry. Every person unfortunate enough to witness your public displays of hatred, quickly learned that both you and Satoru were extremely headstrong — maybe stubborn was a better word.

Both of you brought your petty arguing with you into the classroom the first chance you got. It became a never ending competition of who could answer the questions faster. And if the chance offered itself, you would instantly argue with the other person to the best of your ability. No one could tell if you did it to show off who knew the most, or if it was simply to humiliate the other. Either way, it got annoying fast.

Yaga had on several occasions tried to shut down the fighting, but had little success. You would both find one way or another to go at each other anyways. On one occasion, you’d gotten into a fight so bad that Yaga had ordered for the rest of them to leave the room and just let you two hash it out. He’d come back an hour later, only to see through the door crack that you were still going at it. He also saw how Satoru was fighting to let his smugness show, clearly getting a kick out of provoking you until you were red as a tomato.

“Are you really that stupid, Satoru?”

“Please, for the love of all that’s holy, shut up!”

The only place Shoko and Suguru managed to catch a break was during sparring, when they would sneak out for cigarettes the second you and Satoru said the first word to each other.

In every session, neither of you accepted going against anyone but each other. After your first sparring match, Satoru was determined to win the next one, which he did. And how he had won would probably haunt you forever.

You were just about to win yet another match, but it troubled you that Satoru didn’t seem worried about losing. You had the staff pressed against his, sweat dripping down your brow. He was heaving as much as you, but a small smirk was lurking at the corner of his lips.

That’s when he cocked his head forward, revealing the pair of most hypnotising blue eyes you’d ever seen. You had no control of how your muscles relaxed and expression softened. As a soft sigh slipped out of you, he instantly saw his opportunity to down you, knocking the wind out of your lungs when you’d hit the floor.

You'd gone to bed fuming that night, the image of Satoru laughing and teasing you flashing behind your eyelids as you so desperately tried to fall asleep. You were absolutely mortified by the fact that he’d won simply by his appearance; no combat skill, no infinity, no technique, no nothing!

The next morning you got up at the crack of dawn in order to work out and prepare yourself for the next time you’d face him. Never again would you give him the opportunity to embarrass you like that.

Neither is you would probably admit it, but as the training went on, you both learned a lot from each other. Especially when you began to make use of your powers.

Finally you were starting to understand how the most powerful sorcerer functioned, absolutely astonished by the sheer possibility of it. But as you got to know him more, you also so that his powers wouldn’t have been nearly as special if it hadn’t been for Satoru himself. The extraordinary way he so casually carried himself despite of it all, you couldn’t help but admire it. Though you wouldn’t let him know that.

Satoru too, was intrigued by you because it was only during sparring sessions he was able to see what your cursed technique could be capable of. Outside the gymnasium, you kept the cards close to your chest, revealing absolutely nothing about yourself. But in here, you let that shield down. The power you held was so intense, to the point he knew you were definitely holding back on him — just as he was with you.

As the matches got more intense, Suguru and Shoko kept betting the same 1000 yen on who would win. Not only that, they both seemed to notice the growing tension between you, despite the fact that you said you couldn’t stand each other.

And tension there was, as right now. Satoru had his arm around your neck, pressing against your chest. You had your hands tugging on his forearm as your back was pushed up against him. Cursing his name under your breath, you fought the small smile that was sneaking its way onto your face.

The hair on the back of your neck raised when you felt him lean in forward, his hot breath agains your ear before he spoke, “think I like you in this position better.” If you weren’t so focused on trying to beat him, you would probably have paid more attention to the flirtation in his voice.

In a matter of seconds, you benefitted from his playfulness and reversed the roles where you had him pinned against the ground in defeat. “Don’t go soft on me now, Satoru. Ain’t going to be any fun here anymore if you make it too easy.”

“I’m just trying to get in your head.”

“Hmm, funny. Doesn’t seem like it’s working,” you teased before you stood up without offering him a helping hand.

Satoru had his eyes follow you the entire way out of the gymnasium, a genuine smile dancing on his lips. He quickly snapped back to reality when he heard Suguru’s voice.

“Satoru!”

Turning to look at his friends, there was no signs of the smile that was present just a second ago. “What?”

“We called your name like four times!” Neither of them looked pleased, Shoko with her arms crossed over her chest and high shoulders, and Suguru with his hands in his pockets.

“Sorry, was just lost in thought.”

“We can tell,” Shoko sighed as they both began to follow him close behind as he walked for the exit of the gymnasium.

“So, when’s the wedding?” Suguru teased, instantly earning him a tired scoff from Satoru. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious.”

“Give it a rest.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “She’s a menace. You know I think so.”

“Yeah? Could have fooled us,” he shrugged in response.

“What do you mean?” Shoko and Suguru shared a quick glance in question if he was playing dumb or if he actually didn’t know what they were getting at.

“When you’re not seeking her out to argue, then you do not shut up about her.”

He tried to shrug them off. “Because she gets on my last nerve.”

“No, Satoru, you don’t get it,” Shoko interrupted him, clearly annoyed. “If you disliked her as much as you say you do, you’d think you would want as little to do with her as possible.”

“Everyone complains about people they don’t like.”

“Every once in a while, sure. But it’s all the god damn time!”

Satoru just shook his head, trying to shake off their accusations. “Whatever it is you’re getting at, you can drop it. You’ve never been more off.”

With a deep sigh, Shoko turned to Suguru with a stern look in hopes he could get him to realise how absolutely insufferable he had been since you'd arrived. The second they managed to peer him away from throwing insults in your direction, he went on to complain about anything you’d done. Your answers in class were stupid, your technique when training was sloppy, you had immense power but didn’t know how to use it.

But the absolute worst was when you and Satoru had been on missions. Seeing as the two of you were significantly stronger than the rest of them, you were often sent on more demanding missions just the two of you, on several occasions facing special grade curses.

When both Suguru and Shoko were present, there was only so much new information Satoru could provide them with. But if you were gone for a day or two, there was no shutting him up. He went on and on about whatever curse you met and went into detail about what you’d done to exorcise them. To anyone listening, it sounded like he admired every move you made, throwing in random, cruel remarks just to keep up the image of hatred.

“Look, if you can tell yourself you talk so much about her because you hate her, fine. But how do you explain the looks,” Suguru continued the discussion.

“Looks?” Shoko swore she could punch him.

“You can’t be serious?” He huffed.

Truth was, Satoru was fully aware of how his gaze lingered on you for a second too long. He knew he couldn’t help but smile whenever he saw you thrive in battle, whether in practice with him or on missions. And whenever your skin got in contact with his, he became idiotically aware of himself.

But he could never in a million years admit that. Not after being so adamant in his disdain for you. “You guys are reaching,” he said with his characteristic, cocky chuckle as he began to walk away. “She’s my only real competition. It’s only fair I stay on top of it so she doesn’t surpass me.”

His friends only scowled at him as he exited the gymnasium. “1000 yen they’re sleeping together in a month.”

“Nah, you’re winning that bet,” Shoko said with a defeated chuckle.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Satoru couldn’t understand what had happened. He was only staring empty at Yaga, the ringing in his ears completely blocking out his words, feeling his mouth run dry.

The last thing he remembered was Shoko’s frantic voice on the phone, telling him to hurry back to Jujutsu High. He’d only ever heard her voice that panicked a handful of times before; she was usually so calm and collected.

He’d wasted no time getting back, being rushed by both Suguru and Yaga the second he had set foot within the premises. The first thing he’d noticed was Suguru limping and clutching his stomach while his lip was bloodied.

Oh no.

“You alright?” He’d asked weakly, as he has begun to place the pieces together.

Suguru simply nodded with a wince in pain. “I’m fine, but Satoru-“

“You both made it back, right?” He tried to smother the desperation in his voice.

“Yes, but-“

Satoru had already begun to zone out, realising what they were about to tell him. He knew you and Suguru had gone on a mission— a mission which was originally meant for you and him.

However, last minute the higher ups had decided Satoru had to go on a solo mission. Though he had tried to argue, they had been very adamant. The only deal he had managed to make with them was for Suguru to go with you so you didn’t find yourself alone on a mission intended for the two of you.

“Satoru.” Though somewhat muffled, he managed to make out Suguru calling his name again.

“What happened?”

Suguru struggled to form the words, only stuttering a few sounds before Yaga jumped in to explain. “The curse that met them was special grade, not first grade like we first thought.”

“Okay, but she should be able to-“

“Satoru, you didn’t see it. It was unlike anything we’ve faced before,” Suguru finally managed to form a sentence as he could hear the stress start to appear in the voice of his best friend.

“No, but you’re both strong. Next to me, you’re the strongest!” He was starting to get severely anxious, his heart beating faster and faster. It was only made worse by how they didn’t seem to give him all the information straight forward.

“She got me out first.”

“Wait, got you out first? Is she not here?”

“Satoru?” Shoko’s shallow voice drew their attention to her, as her head perked out the door. Slowly, she made her way over to them, genuine concern on her face.

“Can someone please tell me what happened?” He pleaded, turning restless by the way they were all looking at each other while he was still left in the dark.

“She managed to hold the curse at bay long enough for me to go in again and get her.”

“She’s stable for now, but I… I’m not sure when she’ll wake up.”

This couldn’t happen. You always knew what you were doing when you were out on missions. Never reckless, despite what one might think. You took every precaution imaginable, avoiding every risk that you might face.

So how come they were telling him that you’d taken one hell of a beating? He felt the only reasonable explanation was that this was a sick joke.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, before hesitatingly asking what he’d wanted since he arrived. “Can I see her?” Shoko simply nodded before leading him to the door, carefully opening it up for him. Slowly stepping into the dimly lit room, his eyes immediately landed on you.

The first thing to hit him was how he couldn’t sense your cursed energy, and not because you were blocking him out like you usually did. But you just felt weak, and he couldn’t ever recall seeing you so peaceful.

Laying completely still on your back, your covers only covering your legs revealing your bandaged torso, a tiny bloodstain seeping through. Your face was different shades of blue, evidence of the battle.

As much as both of you had faced strong curses before, you’d never been this beaten up before. He became a little nauseous at the sight, beginning to picture how every thing had gone down wherever it was you had been sent on mission.

He cautiously approached your bedside, scared that if he made any sudden moves or sounds that he would somehow make it worse, before sitting down on the chair beside you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely a whisper. The guilt had hit him like a truck, taking responsibility for not being there.

If he had wanted to, he knew he could have convinced the higher ups not to send him on that solo mission. And if so, he could have been there and helped— saved you.

Against all odds, through all the fighting and bickering, you had become a strong team. Neither of you would say it out loud, but somewhere along the line, you had both grown to care for each other. Satoru, however, hadn’t realised it until his breath had hitched in his throat at the sight of you so fragile.

As the days past, your wound healed and your bruises faded from your face, but you showed no signs of waking up. Satoru grew more impatient for each day that went by, especially when no one had any more answers to give.

“I’m sorry, Satoru. I’ve done all that I can,” Shoko explained desperately almost on a daily basis, but he kept asking everyday.

Day in and day out, he sat in that damn uncomfortable chair, only occasionally pacing around the room for two minutes to stretch his legs before settling down in the chair again. He barely slept, so adamant on meeting your gaze when your eyes finally fluttered open.

“You gotta wake up soon,” he pleaded to deaf ears. Three weeks of waiting had been pure torture. “I need you to come back.” A somber chuckle left his lips.

Reluctantly, he dared to carefully grab your delicate hand in his. It was a weird sensation, as the only time he had felt your skin was when you were in combat training. Now it was soft and tender, letting his thumb glide graciously over the back of your hand.

“Do I have to beg you?” His voice was so careful, like he wasn’t able to let it out in its entirety. “If that’s what you’re trying to make me do, that’s not funny.”

Still nothing. Not a twitch in your eyelids, not your lips opening to speak, not your nose flaring as you took the first deep breath waking up.

“Wouldn't put it past you,” a faint smile reactively found its way onto his face. “Just please. Wake up.”

Dead silence filled the room, his eyes locked on your small hand resting in his. He didn’t realise his eyes had actually shed a tear until it hit your hand, his own intense emotions surprising him.

“You are going soft on me, sweetheart.” Satoru attention shot towards you, barely making out what you had groaned out. Muttering your name in shock, a self satisfied smirk grew on your lip. “Water, please,” you squealed before breaking out in coughs. Scrambling out of the chair, he clumsily filled you a glass of water.

“You’re awake.” His voice was so light, unlike how you were used to hearing it. Usually there was always a smirk to sense in his voice, constantly smug. But now he was so gentle, as he carefully placed his hand on your back to help you up before handing you the glass. You were so used to having his hands throw punches at you, it was a delightful change when he tenderly placed his hand on the back of your head as you drank.

“How long have I been out?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat before sitting back down in the chair. “A little over three weeks.”

Your eyes widened, another small cough escaping you. “Three weeks—“ a low whistle. “Bet you’ve surpassed me by far now.” You were only half joking, genuinely upset that you might have fallen behind. But, to your surprise, he gave you a nervous chuckle.

“Uhm, n-no,” he said before clearing his throat, shaking away his uneasiness. “Not really.”

“Okay? What have you been up to this whole time then?” The weak smile on your lips gradually faded when it dawned on you. With adoration glistening in your eyes, his gaze met yours. “Oh,” you spoke hoarsely. “You haven’t really sat here all the time, have you?”

“No, I’ve walked around the room a few times.” Blinking rapidly at him, you couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing. This only confirmed the suspicions you’d been too scared to even think, that there might have been stolen glances and smiles with intentions shared between the two of you.

Without mentioning it, he had intuitively taken your hand in his again. Your cheeks heating from the feeling of his compassionate touch, pleasantly surprised by how natural it felt to have him hold it.

“I should probably get Shoko-“ he was about to stand up, but tightened the grip on his hand to prevent him.

“Just-“ anxiously clearing your throat. “I feel fine, we can wait a little longer.” His eyes captured your glare and he had never looked at you with so much passion before, making your heart skip a beat. “Thank you for sitting with me.”

“Wanted to be there when you woke up,” a tired smile on his lips.

“I’m glad you were.”

“Me too.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n alright guys... "ill take a break from writing this week" im full of crap. so when I was 2k words deep, I rewrote the entire thing. then i just kept writing and writing, it never ended. i thought it was gonna be much shorter. had to perfrom some killing of darlings. when i finished it first it was like 5.3k words so.

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated

plagiarism not authorized

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ninapi · 2 days

Text

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Better Half (Sukuna Version)❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Premise: Nobara forced Yuuji to stop by a food stand every time they came back from a mission. The girl working there always entranced the youngster, causing his teammates to tease him more than usual. An odd encounter brings her a little too close to Sukuna who ends up just as smitten as his counterpart with the young beauty. Which half will get her heart? Only time will tell.

Word Count: 2334

Note: you can read the first installment of this story here ☺️

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Sukuna Ryomen, the king of curses…nobody would have pegged him for a romantic really…but the fact that he hasn’t stopped thinking about the soft squishy cheeks of that human girl might make you think otherwise.

While Yuuji had been sulking about the fact that you were somehow also attracted to Sukuna, the king himself has been basking in his glorious triumph.

Specially with the way you looked at him like he was the hottest guy in the universe, in all truth, he knew he was, always known, his vessel was unimportant, but getting it recognized by such a fine piece of art such as yourself made his ego boost to the rooftop.

While he didn’t like being inside of Itadori and wished to take over Megumi at some point, he started to consider that maybe it wasn’t as bad to inhabit him for the time being, you did like the idiot, so he might as well make good use of his resources.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

The next morning Yuuji wasn’t feeling like himself, he kept on appearing in places he didn’t try to visit, with no recollection of how he even got there. It was an unsettling feeling specially how each time he did he was closer and closer to your place of work.

He knew this had to be related to Sukuna and he didn’t like it one bit.

Yuuji tried to let his friends know of what was happening, try to get you out of there before you would get even more involved in the world of curses, but Megumi and Nobara both had been assigned to a quick mission with Gojo sensei and didn’t tell him about it to give him time to feel better with himself.

He was on his own and he needed to get you to safety.

Running over to the crepe stand, he noticed it wasn’t open yet, it was still too early and all the shops around were as closed as yours.

His blood kept pumping through his entire body, he looked up and down the street like a lost puppy hoping to get a glimpse of your beautiful face as soon as possible. But the moment he did, his body turned off again, welcoming the king himself.

“Well hello there, my queen~ Looking rather fine as usual…” his eyes were eating you up like a pastry, you could see the evil and lust full glint of his eyes from meters away.

“You’re early today~” offering him a sweet smile, you went by to get the locks open.

“Let me help you with that, gorgeous. No need to get on your knees, yet…” his smirk gave you the chills, he was so hungry for you, you could feel it all the way to your bones, but somehow you were not mad at it in the slightest.

He went on his knees and got all the locks opened up for you in no time, your stand ready for a day’s work in less than half the time it would have normally take.

“Such a gentleman~” you laid a hand on one of his ridiculously well built muscly arms as you made your way inside to get your apron on. “Would you like a breakfast crepe? It’s my specialty~”

“Oh my dear, I want more than a little snack from you….but if your lovely hands get to do it, I guess I wouldn’t mind having one…” his words never failed to make you giggle, this eccentric and sexy side of him was so different from the other one, yet so enticing, made you want to get to know him better.

As you turn on the iron grill and prepare the ingredients, you decide to test the waters, “So…Itadori-kun…can you…tell me whats up with your changes in mood? Don’t think I mind them, I just want to understand you a bit better…” your tone was soft, sweet, really understanding and inviting, while Yuuji would have love that, he didn’t. Sukuna didn’t want you to think of him as pathetic little Itadori, he wanted you to see him for who he truly was, and that meant breaking down for you the dark truth of this world.

“I’m not him, that’s it..” you waited for him to elaborate, your theory of him having double personality now becoming stronger.

“I’m Sukuna Ryomen, the king of curses. Just happen to be living inside this crappy teenager body…but I’m so much better than him in every way, babe, trust me on that.” his confident tone gave you goosebumps, but of the good kind, his voice was so sexy and the way he seemed to be undressing you with his eyes as you cooked was certainly not helping.

“A curse? Does that mean you’re some sort of spirit living in him? Or are you another soul trapped in the same body?” you were clever, more than he expected. Humans usually tend to laugh and think of this sort of things as jokes, but you didn’t treat him like he was crazy, you were seriously trying to grasp the situation and understand him fully.

“You could say it’s a bit of both. Curses aren’t really spirits but an amalgamation of cursed energy harbored by negative emotions humans tend to have…” for the first time in his very long lived life, he was terrified of scaring someone off, he didn’t want you to give him the cold shoulder, to see him like a freak, and he has never had such a wish before.

“Negative emotions…does that mean Itadori-kun is depressed and brought you out?”

“Not really, he kind of…took me in willingly, of course he didn’t really know what he was getting himself into…” you didn’t seem to back off, contrary to what he thought it would happen you seemed fascinated with everything he had to say.

“So you have nothing to do with Itadori-kun then. Is that why your voice is so deep and you get those fancy tattoos?”

“Precisely, we are completely different beings. He’s just a mere vessel, I am the king of curses, the most powerful being out there. And you, my little dove, happen to tick all the boxes for the queen spot right beside me~”

Your giggles were killing him, he’s never been this attracted to anyone, let alone a human. You weren’t just the cutest little thing, but incredibly hot too. His blood kept going south every few minutes, his body becoming all twitchy every time you made one of your cute little sounds.

“I’m just a part-timer who happens to make good crepes. How does that make me a queen candidate?”

“I’ve never wished for a queen before. There’s nobody stronger than me, hence pleasing me is not an easy task. But you, my flower, just the sight of you gets me as high as never before…” your blushing increased tenfold, you could literally feel how aroused he was and in all honesty you had no idea how to handle a man like that, even worse… a curse like that…

“So you like my face? Is that it?” trying to force the situation down a notch, you handed him his breakfast crepe and got to your cleaning duties.

“Your face? Oh no, my darling. Your soul, your body…everything about you is so damn delicious…I could see myself enjoying every single crease of your body for all eternity…” you weren’t expecting someone to comment on how good your soul seemed to taste, it was quite frankly terrifying, yet arousing at the same time. You’ve never been wanted with such intensity, made you feel empowered, important, special.

“Oh yeah? That does sound like fun, I admit. But you aren’t always yourself, are you? I’ve seen Itadori out more often than you.”

“You’re not wrong, my dove, you're quite observant. I’m gearing up to take over him completely, I just didn’t have the need or even the motivation to do so until I met you…I don’t want this pathetic human pawing at whats mine…” his cold tone full of hatred and disgust shook you to your core, while you’ve been hearing all he had to say, you didn’t fully understand how dangerous he was until this moment.

“So what happens to Itadori-kun if you’re out all the time?”

“Why do you care? Do you like him more than you like me? Do you like the empty headed weakling who doesn’t have an ounce of talent without my powers?” he was scowling now, his voice raising by the second making you feel weak in more than one way.

But your answer was definite, quick, simple, “No.” and that was all it took to get his anger under control.

“Was just wondering…”

A wide smirk adorned his handsome features once more as he leaned against the windowsill, “Well if you must know, he will disappear once I take over, at least until I switch bodies…How do you feel about the Fushiguro boy? Don’t you think he’s way more of an attractive vessel?”

His words made you freeze, your answer could easily ruin someone’s life, but also save another.

“The raven haired friend of his?”

“Yeah, he’s a masterpiece, some would say he’s the perfect vessel, I’ve been eyeing him for a while, but you seem attach to this one…”

“Hm, he is cute. But I met you with this face, it would be a bit awkward if you were to switch faces completely, if that makes sense…”

“It does, I expected as much. For now I’ll stay in Itadori, but I’m sure I’ll get you convinced in no time that he’s better.”

He was done eating, though no other customer had shown ever since, you started thinking it was probably his doing as this was usually peak time for your business.

“So... Sukuna?” he nodded proudly, tingles running al over his body once he heard his real name flowing from those delicious looking lips of yours.

“You said you wanted to take me to hell with you, was that literal? Or you just meant me going with you in general?” your curious nature was delightful.

“Eventually the place you know as your home will be nothing but a charred pile of ashes, curses will roam freely, humans will no longer be the superior race…When that time comes, you’d have a place right by my side, on my throne, ruling over all of them, curses and humans alike…” it sounded like an awful future for human race, yet it somehow didn’t feel like he was bullshitting you.

The whole curses thing was starting to be a bit too real for you and while you couldn’t really see them, the fact that human’s despair could turn to deadly creatures of the night sounded more possible than it should.

“Shouldn’t someone more important sit with the king himself? I’m nothing special…”

“Are you questioning me?” his tone was going back to its cold nature the more you talked, “Because seems to me like you think you have an option…I’m not asking you, my dove, I’m telling you what the future is going to look like.”

“So I don’t have a choice then…” your voice didn’t sound defeated in the slightest, nor there was a hint of fear in it, and he liked it.

“The king has spoken? Is that it?”

“Something like that.”

To this statement you just nodded, accepting your fate was better than getting in troubles. He did seem like he wants to treasure in his own very peculiar way and it’s not like this par- time job could do more than help paying your bills.

“Do you have books on curses or something? I would like to get to know more about what I’m getting myself into, unlike Itadori. If I have to be a queen, I might as well be a good one. Right?” your sweet smile had come back, he was positively glittering with excitement at this point. It’s not like you had a choice, he would take you regardless of anything you had to say, but the fact that you were taking this so well made him fill up with pride, brimming with hope.

And that was new.

Hope is the very opposite of cursed energy, he was literally defying his own existence by taking in his ball of sunshine under his wing.

But if a curse deserved a happy ending, it certainly had to be the king of them, right?

“Itadori might have some in his room, he does go to a sorcery school after all. I’ll look into it for you, my love.”

You just nodded, inching closer to his face, “My king…”

His entire world collapsed right there, while nobody can control him, and never will, you certainly knew how to make him feel weak…and somehow he didn’t hate it…

“I’ll pick you up by nightfall, babe…prepare yourself for the night of your life, I ain’t holding back…” giving you a little whiff, his time outside came to an end, a very confused Itadori was left looking at you up close, closer than never before.

“(Y/N)…? Are you ok? Oh my god…why am I here…?” you just caressed his face in a loving tender manner, he was your love’s vessel after all, and you’d take care of him just as much.

“It’s ok sweet stuff. You’re fine, I’m fine. Are you hungry?” and with that, he turned into a puddle of goo forgetting the whole reason he was there in the first place, maybe having Sukuna making you swoon wasn’t so bad after all.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

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orion-tyche · 3 days

Text

Gone

Summary: What if it all went wrong? What if Hemlock got away with Omega? What if our heroes didn’t get the happy ending they did? If there’s one thing I can tell you, it’s that it doesn’t end well.

Word count: 1924

Notes: Break-it fic!!! Saw someone make a post about wanting a fic where everything goes wrong so here it is!!! I’ve been wanting one of these too but it ended up being a “fine I’ll do it myself” thing. It’s a quick one-shot, but here ya go hope you enjoy!

Tag list: @mantellmix @twinsunstars

The doors opened to a long catwalk, leading to a small landing platform. It was just large enough for a small fighter. Hemlock dragged Omega along, having lost nearly all his patience. And Omega knew it. His base was wrecked, his data gone, his CX troopers were unable to help him anymore.

“But I still have you.”

And that’s what haunted Omega as she struggled against the binders holding her and Hemlock together as he walked along the catwalk, towards the landing platform. His commander was right behind her. Scorch, was that his name? Omega had heard his voice before. He sounded like a clone. Omega didn’t want to believe he was a clone. Who would serve the very man causing so much pain to his brothers?

Hemlock looked at the small keypad in his hand, the one he tore off the CX operative that had been continuously following Omega and her brothers. He tapped a few of the buttons, then looked out almost triumphantly at the rainy skies. It was pouring, and Omega’s hair stuck to her face. From the clouds and rain came a familiar ship. It was black and red, and was a sleek new design. Omega had only seen a ship like it once before. It belonged to that same CX operative. It was the ship she’d been taken here on after she surrendered on Pabu.

Hemlock kept walking, his pace increasing as the ship landed. He was wasting no time. He stopped in front of the ship’s ramp and looked back for a moment at Scorch.

“Make sure no one follows us.” He said, the anger evident in his voice. Scorch nodded and took a charge out from his belt. He primed it and threw it back along the catwalk. Omega watched as it hit the metal ground and exploded. The ground she was on shook a bit, and she looked back up at the explosion as she stabilized herself. There was a giant gap in the catwalk now, separating the base exit from the landing platform. She took one last look before Scorch walked inside the ship and Hemlock followed, dragging her with. She pulled back again, and reached for the small dental tool hidden in her sleeve. She went to stab at Hemlock with it, desperate for any escape. But Hemlock held her arm back and ripped the tool out of her hand. He tossed it away and glared at her.

“I’ve had enough of this. Stun her.”

Hunter opened the doors, tired and injured and only thinking of Omega. He could tell Crosshair was the same. The doors opened to show what used to be a perfectly serviceable catwalk, now in two pieces. The side they were on, and the side where a ship sat ready to take off. He saw Hemlock, Scorch, and Omega in front of the ship’s ramp. Hunter crouched down on the catwalk, the rain blurring his view. He felt Crosshair rest his blaster on his shoulder. Scorch shot Omega with a stun blast, and she fell to the ground. Hemlock released the part of the binders on his arm, and put it on Omega. Scorch hit the switch on his blaster to revert it back to kill, and aimed at Hunter. Hemlock whispered something to him, and then entered the ship. Scorch kept the blaster aimed at Hunter and Crosshair with one hand, and dragged Omega inside the ship with the other. Hunter had enough. He shot at Scorch, anger fueling him. But between the torture earlier and the rain now, his vision was blurred and his senses overloaded. Crosshair went to shoot as well, with only a bit more accuracy than Hunter. Both wanted to fight for Omega, to get her back, and were willing to do anything. But they just couldn’t. Not anymore.

Scorch, spooked by the blaster shots, hurried inside the ship with Omega and closed the ramp. The ship began taking off. No. Hunter shot at the engines. The shields were already up. No. Crosshair stood and shouted something Hunter didn’t hear. No. Hunter had been here before. Six months ago on Ord Mantell, when he’d watched that shuttle fly away above him with Omega. No. Crosshair had been here before. Just a few days ago when he’d missed his shot at the operative’s ship. No. The ship flew away, up into the atmosphere and into hyperspace. No. No. No.

Omega woke up, she didn’t know how long she’d been out. She had hoped with all her might that seeing Hunter and Crosshair meant she would be safe. But as she opened her eyes, she only saw the familiar red and black walls of the operative’s ship. She noticed her hands were cuffed now, and she was sitting in the back of the ship. She looked around and saw Hemlock sitting in the pilot’s seat, aimlessly looking out at the blue streaks of hyperspace. Scorch was in the co-pilot’s seat, but was turned around and watching Omega. Of course. Hemlock would know better than to leave her unattended now. But she would still find a way out. It didn’t matter what prison he put her in, or whatever other place he had in store. She could escape. She would escape.

Or so she hoped.

Hunter sat in the cockpit of the Remora, just staring at the buttons on the console. Rex and what was left of the rebel clones showed up on Tantiss shortly after Hemlock had gotten away. They picked up Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair. Echo went on an Imperial shuttle with the clone prisoners.

Wrecker was laying on the floor, now with more med-patches and a monitor on his heartbeat. The monitor made slow, repeated beeps in the background. He’d been hit hard in the fight, between the creature in the jungle and the fight with Hemlock’s operatives.

Crosshair was sitting on a bench near the holotable. Howzer was sitting with Crosshair, attending to where his hand used to be. Rex was sitting in the cockpit next to Hunter. After a few moments of silence, he spoke up.

“…I’m sorry.” He said. Hunter glanced up at him, and sighed.

“Me too.” He replied. He really had nothing to say. He’d lost Omega. For a third time. He didn’t even get to see her before she was taken away again. The last time he’d properly talked with her was when Pabu was being invaded. And he wouldn’t ever talk with her again. Hemlock was off to who knows where, nobody had any leads on his location, and Hunter had almost no will to do anything at this point.

He was ready to give up. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew he should carry on for Omega. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He felt like such a failure. It was his job to protect her. He knew he was her brother, but more often than not he felt like a father. He felt responsible for her. He’d failed her. He’d failed himself. He’d failed his squad. Crosshair was right. Clone Force 99 died with Tech. But it took losing Omega for Hunter to see it.

Echo stood at a holotable, pouring over files and various information. It had been several years since Omega was taken. Maybe ten, now? Had it really been that long?

Echo was alone in the room. He’d kept the small Clone Rebellion alive, but it was getting harder every day. Clones were dying all around him, whether to the Empire or because the accelerated aging was catching up to them. He’d lost Howzer just a few months ago. But Wolffe had come to join them, not very long after the escape on Tantiss. He, Gregor, and Rex had gone off on a mission about a year ago. They never came back. And so Echo was left alone, running the rebellion and trying to find Omega. Hunter had given up entirely. Wrecker was kept busy with trying to get Hunter’s spirits up. Crosshair had decided to stay out of everything, and kept to himself nowadays.

Echo examined a file. Nothing. Nothing, day after day. Where could someone go in the galaxy where they could never be found?

Hemlock walked down the dark gray hallways of the Deero base. Deero was a nice place, by Hemlock’s standards. A small, rocky planet that was on the absolute edge of the outer rim. No one could find it. Besides that, it didn’t have much to offer. But it worked. Hemlock had built this new base underground, deep within the depths of the planet. The entrances were hidden above ground, and all landing pads were under rocks or hidden behind the natural formations of the planet. And the constant dust storms above ground kept scanners from seeing anything. He wasn’t making any mistakes with this base.

Hemlock set his datapad into the scanner and input his code. The blast doors opened and he walked into the second hallway, guarded by several ray shields. It was a similar construction to the Vault on Tantiss, but, of course, with added security measures.

Omega had been…troublesome, to say the least, when they first arrived at the base. When he left Tantiss, he went to the secondary facility on Daro where he was able to contact the Emperor and explain the situation. Lucky for him, he was the Emperor’s favorite and wasn’t blamed too heavily for the incident. But the Emperor never fully forgave. Hemlock’s climb to Scientific Minister had been slowed, but he was sure it would come soon.

Soon after, the Deero base was built and Omega was transferred there. She’d attempted to break out multiple times, getting very far on multiple occasions. But, a simple fix was easily administered. Simple, but effective.

Hemlock came to the end of the ray shielded hallway and input his code a second time. The second set of blast doors opened, revealing the main lab. His assistants and employees were bustling about, attending to their tasks and examining test results. They went around their stations, exchanging work and comparing data. In the middle of the room was a large glass capsule, filled with bacta. And inside, floating around, was Omega. She was hooked up to various cords and tubes, some of which kept her in the hibernation she was in. Others constantly took samples of her blood, flowing it out so tests could be made without any wait. He was ever so close to finishing Project Necromancer. Then he could be Scientific Minister. He had to be, once this was done.

He watched as Omega floated aimlessly in the bacta, remembering the naive child she used to be. When she was defiant, idealistic, and imaginative. Now she would never be any of those things. She didn’t have the chance. And never would get it again.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He snapped his head to look at the researcher bothering him.

“What is it?” He asked coldly, not fond of being disturbed.

“Uhm, sir,” The researcher started, her voice nervous and shaky. “We’ve done it. Project Necromancer is complete.”

#the bad batch #star wars #star wars the bad batch #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #sw tbb #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 3 #star wars tbb #sw the bad batch #star wars omega #omega the bad batch #the bad batch omega #royce hemlock #tbb hemlock #hemlock tbb #the bad batch s3 spoilers #fanfiction

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 21 hours

Text

Eri Reader x Straw Hats- Mother's Day

-You smiled brightly, looking down at all the handmade cards you had been working so hard on for the past few days.

-It was Sanji who told you about this holiday, Mother’s Day, and what people usually do.

-You had so many mothers now, ones that had adopted you over the past couple of years during your journey, and you wanted to celebrate all of them!!

-Sanji was willing to help, enjoying your enthusiasm, and since the ship was docked at an island for a few days, he took you out to get the supplies for your gifts.

-You ran to Sanji with the completed cards, and he kneeled, “Have you finished?” you nodded, beaming brightly, “I just finished!”

-He ruffled your hair gently, giving you a grin, “Well then, let’s get to the post office!” you nodded and grabbed your hat, disguising yourself as he took you to the post office to mail out the ones you needed to mail out so they would arrive in time along with the gift Sanji helped you pick out, carnations.

-You kept only one card, meant for Robin, as you were going to give it to her personally. You couldn’t wait for Mother’s Day!!

-Two days later, you snuck out of your room, sneaking to the kitchen where Sanji was waiting for you, both of you holding your index fingers to your mouths, trying to be sneaky as you helped Sanji make pancakes and coffee for Robin.

-Nami knew of the plan, and was in charge of keeping Robin in bed, which was amusing, as Nami was clinging to Robin, telling her to cuddle her some more, which Robin thought was cute.

-When you came in, holding the tray carefully, trying not to spill anything, with Sanji peeking in, making sure you were all right, Robin’s eyes went wide as you beamed, “Happy Mother’s Day mama!”

-Nami held her hands to her mouth, trying not to cry, thinking you were adorable as Robin melted as you handed her the tray. She smiled, seeing the pancakes, coffee, the handmade card, and the carnation.

-Before she ate anything, Robin picked you up, hugging you close, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I love it Y/N. Thank you so much!” you smiled up at her, hugging her close, “I love you mama!”

-There was a crash as Nami and Sanji both collapsed to the ground, overcome with cuteness.

Elsewhere

-Bell-Mere couldn’t help but smile, looking down at the card she got from you and the one she got from Nami, and one from Nojiko, three carnations as well, as she beamed, seeing how much her girl’s appreciated her.

-Kureha chuckled softly, seeing your card, reading over it that even though you saw her as a grandmother, you wanted to celebrate her on Mother’s Day, twirling the carnation around her fingers, thinking you were sweet.

-Otohime was ugly crying, holding the various presents and cards from her children, you included, “My children are all so sweet!!” her children who were present, including Shirahoshi, were trying to calm her down, but she was just so happy!

-Scarlet couldn’t help but smile, reading the card with Violet and Rebecca, who were reading over her shoulder, thinking that you were adorable for sending a card wishing her a happy Mother’s Day. She held the carnation from you and Rebecca, smiling softly, happy.

-Sora beamed down at the card you had sent her, Reiju and Zeff reading it over her shoulder, seeing how thoughtful you were, sending her a Mother’s Day card. She smiled warmly, looking at Sanji’s card next, complete with another carnation, matching your own. She was so grateful to have such thoughtful children as Reiju surprised her with a carnation of her own.

Happy Mother’s Day to everyone who is a mother, either to a child or a fur baby!!

#one piece #eri reader #sanji #nami #robin #bell-mere #doctor kureha #otohime #one piece scarlet #one piece sora

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loves0phelia · 22 hours

Note

frank castle x nurse!gf fluff xx

Midnight Visitor

Summery: the request.

Words: 1k

Warnings: implied smut at the end, injuries, grammar mistakes

A/N: Thank you I loved writing this one.

Your cat was purring in your lap as you stroked her on your couch while watching a movie during your first night off of the entire month. You knew being a nurse wouldn't be easy, you knew you had to prepare mentally every time you went in. But when you got your rare nights off it felt like heaven.

You barely heard the knock that came from your window over the sound of your TV. Some people would scold you about it being bad for your ears.

You did hear when the person on the other side tried pulling up your window but failed as it was locked.

With a sigh, you picked up your kitten and placed her beside you on the couch. After earning a hiss of discomfort, you stood up letting the blanket that was draped over you fall on the cold hardwood floor.

Tiredly you opened the curtains with no hesitation since you already knew who was on the other side. Frank was crouched on your fire escape looking desperate to get in as blood gushed out of his forehead and a massive bruise was forming around his eye.

You unlocked your window and rapidly he opened it letting the freezing air enter your cozy apartment.

“Between all the days you could have chosen to get hurt and come here to get patched up, it had to be on my day off?” Your hands raised on your hips in a scolding manner. A habit you and your twin brother, Matt Murdock, had taken from your late father.

“Hey sweetheart” his lips connected with your cheek as he passed you and made his way into your kitchen gathering the needed supplies as if it were his apartment. At this point it almost was.

“What happened this time? Another mob? Fisk? A gang?” you followed behind him as he walked to the bathroom. After putting down the medical stuff you kept stacked beneath your sink, he sat down on your counter.

“It was your damn brother” He cursed and you began looking over his injuries. You knew it probably hurt like a bitch but Frank would never show how much he suffered.

“What did he do this time?” you asked, whispering as you poured alcohol on a small white cotton.

“He's still mad you and I are together, so when I was about to put down one of those gang members” he paused to curse again as you pressed the cotton ball into his cut. “he took the opportunity to hit me with his stupid ass batons”

You listened carefully as he explained what happened.

“You know he's not completely wrong, Frankie” His eyes shifted from the ceiling to you and glared.

“But they deserve it. They've done worse to innocent people, to children” His voice got darker when he mentioned the last part.

“I know my love, I know” You laid your hand on his cheeks and ran your thumb over it. “You are right, they deserve it but don't you think it would be better if they served justice in prison? where they wouldn't have the choice to live in poor conditions? where they would have no choice but to rot there?”

He sighed, leaned into your hand and slowly kissed your palm.

“I would never hate you for killing monsters like them but Matthew is not all wrong. He's just doing what he thinks is right, just like you” you spoke softly before you took his hand in yours to examine his knuckles. They were bloody and bruised. You wish they weren't but you knew he was doing it to make the city better, safe.

“How are you so good to me? I don't deserve you” You stop your work of wrapping his hand in a bandage after he finishes his sentence.

“You deserve everything you ever desire, alright? You are a good man, whoever tries to prove you on the contrary deserve whatever you're gonna do to them” You furiously continue wrapping them. The thought of anyone saying Frank didn't deserve happiness infuriated you.

“Did you just- Did you imply they deserve to be killed?” a smirk appeared on his face and your brow furrowed. It was not the time to make jokes.

“Red would not like what you just said- Hey!” He yelled when you purposely tighten the bandages.

“Okay, okay I'm sorry” You loosened it after his apology and carried on treating his wounds.

you checked his head, his chest, his arms and the rest of his body for other injuries but after a couple of minutes of searching, he seemed fine.

“You might have a headache because of the gash on your forehead so before going to sleep I would recommend you take a Tylenol,” you said while still standing between his knees.

“Can I stay tonight?” His hand came up to your hips to keep you in place. His eyes were begging you.

“You know you always can. You don't even have to ask” you whispered.

"I love you so much” you returned his words before slowly pressing your lips to his. They were chapped from the cold weather but nothing would ever make kissing Frank Castle unpleasant.

“I have to wake up early tomorrow, I have a morning shift at the hospital, and I gotta pay Matt a visit,” you say against his lips and he groans at the mention of his name.

You opened your mouth again, about to add something but his lips connected with your lips shutting you up immediately.

A small moan escaped your lips as his hand grabbed your ass pulling you against him. He stood up now towering over you and without once detaching your lips, you jumped intertwining your legs around his waist.

Your fingers desperately gripped his hair as he held you up while walking messily to your bedroom across your apartment.

Gently, he dropped you into your bed and began kissing down your neck and stomach. Words could not describe how he made you feel that night.`

#frank castle fluff #frank castle x you #frank castle angst #frank castle x reader #the punisher x reader #the punisher x you #frank castle x female reader #frank castle smut #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x y/n #jon bernthal

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yetanotherhiddlestoner · 2 days

Text

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

(Gif is not mine, I found it on google.)

Word Count - 2593.

Warnings - Negan X FM Reader. P in V, alcohol mention, smut, swearing, vaginal licking, blow jobs. No beta reader, any mistakes are mine own.

Negan and you have been working together for a few years but what happens when one Friday night out changes all that.?

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

You and Negan had been work mates for years, you started about 12 months after he did and bonded one night when you were invited to join the men and their wives for Friday night drinks and was able to outdrink the great Negan, earning your place in the friendship they had already established.

Another friday night has come around again and you went home and got ready for the weekly catch up, even though you worked with the men, it was the women you missed and loved catching up with. The moment you got there, you were basically dragged away from the group by them, having them a little tipsy already.

As the night progressed and the drinks kept coming, Dwight's wife, Sherry leaned over and whispered in your ear "Negan keeps staring at you" You almost spit your drink out at her, you look at her "What?" "Negan, he has been staring at you all night, since you arrived his eyes have barely looked elsewhere." "Bullshit" You turn a little, trying to remain casual, hoping that to him it looks like you're just repositioning yourself on your seat and you look at him, your eyes connecting. He gives you a smirk, you smile back.

"Holy shit I think I just saw sparks" Sherry says joking. You slap her arm gently and break eye contact. "He probably just watching over here in general making sure that we are not being hounded by unwanted men." "No honey, I think he is making sure no one hits on you." Sherry sips her drink and poke a finger into your chest. "Right ok, I think you should stop drinking; all that alcohol is going to your brain." Sherry laughs " Have your really been so oblivious? He likes you Y/N. Every time we drink, he always keeps his eye on you, he gets angry when men talk to you, one night he came to ours to sleep it off, Dwight says that he was saying your name in his sleep when he went downstairs during the night."

"Well then, if that is the case, let's test this theory" You smile at her, and she raises an eyebrow. You place your drink and walk over to Negan. "Hey" you say to him and sit down beside him. "You seem to be enjoying yourself." He says as he watches the men nod at each other and leave to go to dance with their wives, leaving you and him alone. You shrug "Could be better,I am actually thinking of picking up a guy tonight" You decide to watch Negan closely, waiting for a reaction. "Oh is that so, would be a first for you, anyone catch you eye?" Negan gruffs and he takes a sip of his gin. You take note that he didn't react as you thought so you decided to keep testing him, you look around and spot your "target", you nod over to the bar "He looks interesting and fun, he might be a good time if you get my drift." Negan follows your nod and spots the man, he was young, short black hair, wearing jeans and a jacket, casually leaning on the bar talking to what he assume is his friend. "You really think he is your type?" Negan looks at you raise an eyebrow at him.

"You think you know my type?" You say looking at him. Negan leans back, turning his body towards yours, his arm on top of the chair. "I actually think I do what type of man you like" You raise your eyebrow to him "Ok tell me all about MY type, I would love to hear it" you say.

Negan chuckles "You type is the bad boy type, the type that you wouldn't take home to your parents. You want the type of man who will listen to you, take care of you when you're down. Someone who will take time to spoil you both inside the bedroom and out, even dare say a dominant male, especially in the bedroom, you seem like the submissive type of woman" You can feel your cheeks heating up and you only hope that Negan won't notice your blushing.

"You just know that most women like bad boys, so that was a lucky guess." You smile as he leans closer to you. "And yet you didn't deny the other things I "assumed" about you." He shifts his hips closer to you. "You don't think I notice the way you look at me when we hang out and I'm fixing my bike, while you sit there and keep my company, I can feel your eyes on me." "Isn't that what I meant to do, look at you while we are talking? Thought it was what society calls polite" You say, a bit of smart ass coming out in your voice. "Yes but there have been times when your eyes have not been looking at my face" He looks down at himself and slowly back up. "I've caught you oogling me when I slide under my bike, when my t-shirt rides up enough to show skin" "And what about you Negan? Sherry said that you been watching me all night, and you do it every other time?" Negan laughs "Well then at least Sherry noticed." Negan's hand reaches out and gently caresses your cheek. You gulp, feeling like butterflies are fluttering inside you. "So she was right then?" "Right about what Y/N?" Negan moves closer, you look down at his lips, his tongue peeks out to wet his dry lips and it leaves you wanting him more. "That you get angry when men try and talk to me" "She is not wrong. You have no idea how much I have wanted to spank your barely covered ass and tell you to go change. I don't like when other men try and take what's mine" You stare into his haze eyes "Yours? I'm not yours Negan" His hand slithers its way into your hair, grabbing it tightly, jerking your head back a bit. "Yes, you are, you just don't know it yet."

Seconds pass and he growls, pulling your hair again, his lips crashing into yours, your arms instinctly wrapping around his neck, pulling him into you closer. Negan's other hand makes it way to your hip, without breaking the kiss his pulls you onto his lap. He releases your hair, but keeps his hand there, massaging the spot he had balled into a fist.

He growls as you shimmy down a bit, hitting his growing hard on. "Careful doll" You forgot that you were at a bar with your work mates who would be back any moment. You start to slide off Negan's lap when his hands stop you from. "Where do you think you're going?" His lips nibble at your neck, making you wiggle on his lap at the sensation. "Our friends will be back soon" You try to explain. "So what, you embarrassed to be seen on my lap?" He asks, his hips gripping your waist. "No no" You shake your head "Would rather be on your lap in private" You move closer to Negan's lips. "Oh, is that so, would private also mean, no clothing?" He smirks. "Maybe if you play your cards right." You wink at him. He gently smacks your ass. "Well then I am more than happy to get this show on the road Y/N" He goes to stand up carrying you. "You can't be serious, put me down" You smile.

"No way in hell took us too long to get to this point, I ain't letting you go now." He leans down to grab your wallet and phone and passes it to you. Your legs gripped tightly around his waist. The owner of the bar laughs as you walk out, your friends smile and give you a thumbs up, knowing full well that come Monday you're going to be the talk of the workplace. He gets to his car and opens the door; you slide down and hop in the passenger side of the car. Negan closes the door like a gentleman. He hops in the driver's side, puts the keys in the ignition and the car roars to life. The drive is silent, neither one wanting to break the spell that had come over you both in the bar. You could feel yourself wet, you rub your thighs together, you gasp as you feel a large hand grab your leg, stopping you. "Don't do that doll." Negan warns, his nails digging into your flesh. His eyes focused on the road, his hand slides up your leg, under your skirt, gently touching your clothed pussy lips. You moan just at the small sensation. His finger going up and down your lips, just teasing you enough to make you crave his touch deeper.

"Please" you whisper lifting your hips a bit. Negan chuckles " Needy little thing aren't you doll?" His hand pulls away and his hand goes back to the steering wheel, as he turns the corner to his house.

Negan gets out of the car first, rounding the back and opening the door for you, allowing you to get out of the car and he closes the door leading the way to the front door, you had been to Negan's house many times, but never like this before, it was different. He unlocks the door and lets you walk in first, you hear the door close behind you, you turn to his hand grabbing your shoulder and moves your back to the door, his lips on yours, kissing you deeply, you're thinking your lips might be bruised in the morning with the amount of pressure he is using but you don't care, his tongue pry's your lips opens and your tongues dances with his.

Negan moves from your lips to your cheek, then down to your neck as his fingers carefully undo the buttons on your top. Once it falls open, his hands are on your breasts, getting a gasp out of you as he pinches your hard nipples. His lips move down and take one hard nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, making you moan and arch your back begging for more.

Negan moves from one breast to the another, doing the same thing, your hand slides into his hair, gripping it harder, pulling him closer to your chest. You hear him moan and then feel the sensation of teeth nibbling your skin.

Negan pulls away just a little, his face moving closer to yours. "I might have been wrong about the submissive part of you doll." You chuckle a little "Maybe, but maybe it is cause we not in the bedroom." Negan smiles and takes your hand, leading you up to his room. Once inside he pushes you down on the bed, and crawls on top of you, covering you with his body.

"You look perfect on my bed, even if you are to overly dressed." He pushes your shirt off your shoulders, throwing in beside the bed, he sits back and undoes his shirt and throws it with yours, you reach for his jeans, unbuckling the belt in a haste. His hands work on pulling your skirt down along with your underwear, again tossing it to the side of the bed. You push his jeans down to his knees then he takes over, getting off the bed to discard them leaving you laying there on your elbows looking at him, marveling at his amazing body, the chiseled chest, his tattoos and slowly looking down to his happy trail that leads to his very hard cock, that makes you lick your lips and crawl over to the edge of the bed. Your hand reaches out and grasps him, making him growl deeply. His hips thrust a little making himself move in and out of your hand. You open your lips and engulf the tip of his cock, his hand finds itself tangled in your hair, as he thrusts himself more, your tongue swirling around his member. You hum as he pushes himself further into your mouth. "Doll" He growls, a warning. You look up at him, the tip of his cock just sitting between your lips. "Hmm" you hum. "As much as I am loving this lovely mouth wrapped around my cock I really wanna be inside you, fucking your tight pussy."

Negan pulls himself out of your lips, pushes you to the middle of the bed, your still on your stomach, the bed dips and he crawls over you, lifting your hips and ass up, you feel his fingers touch your pussy lips, "Fuck I have been waiting to see you in this position, wet and waiting for me." His finger just pushes past your lips, spreading you, then you suddenly feel his tongue, lapping at your juices, you moan when he swirls the tip of his tongue around your clit. "Fuck" You breathe out, he pulls you closer to his, his face right in between your pussy, licking, sucking, the noises that fill the air should embarrass you, not turn you on more. Negan eats you out until the first orgasm washes over you, your legs shake in pleasure. Negan licks up your juices before moving over you, his legs positioned between yours, you feel his cock laying on your ass as he leans over you, kissing your cheek. "Fuck doll you ready to cum all over my cock now, such a good girl you" You turn your head, and he kisses you, you taste yourself on his face. Negan grips his dick lining it up to your wet pussy. In one quick thrust his pushes his way into you, his balls slap against your skin and you moan in delight. "Doll, you have no idea how long I have dreamt of this moment, filling your tight cunt with my cock" He whispers in your ear, before pulling out and pushing back in fast, harder each time, getting a moan from both of you. Negan can't stop himself from pounding into you, his cock burying itself inside the tight warm walls over your pussy, the noises that you make each time he hit the spot is like music to his ears. Negan leans over your back, pushing your face deeper into the mattress, his arms on each side of your body, he drives himself deeper into you, he is close to cumming, "Negan please...." you moan out. "I'm gonna cum doll, where do you want it, inside you? on your back?" He grunts out "or do you wanna shallow?" You can barely answer, you so cock drunk of him "Inside, please Negan" you beg him. It doesn't take too long before Negan is pumping his seed inside you, grunting at his own release. You feel your own orgasm building and when you feel his hot cum inside you, you can't help but moan as you cum around his cock, milking him. Negan grunts as your cunt throbs around his slowly softening cock. Negan get off of you and rolls you into his body, you both lay there panting, coming down from the high that has been building for a couple years. "You do know now there is definitely not letting you go now." Negan says as his arm tightens around your stomach. "That is ok with me Negan." Negan chuckles and kisses your neck, thankful that finally after years of watching you from afar you were finally his.

#daddy negan #jdm #jeffery dean morgan #negan x reader #negan smut #negan smith #negan x y/n #the walking dead negan #negan fanfiction #twd negan #negan smith smut #negan smith x you

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blondeboyfriend · 3 days

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𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Kishibe x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] A follow up to Sour Times. [ SYNOPSIS ] A simple dinner date goes to shit. [ WORD COUNT ] 2k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, established "relationship", y/n is a civilian, canon typical violence is discussed, alcohol, binge drinking, dubcon, oral sex, jerking off, squirting.

The persistent loneliness you felt that Friday night was a cruel humiliation. The air was still and biting, a constant needly presence on your skin. You had been waiting for fifteen minutes, feet firmly planted on the sidewalk, but it felt like years. Every so often you glanced inside the restaurant, cursing the adorable couples feasting by the window. That was where you belonged. You should have been sitting amongst them, having dinner with Kishibe.

And yet you were shivering outside, feeling like the only person in the world. You looked up at the night sky, stars bleached away by city lights, and noticed it was a new moon.

“That’s so fucked up,” you muttered.

Its absence felt personal.

You flirted with the idea of going home, cozying up on the couch and eating a garbage frozen meal you kept for bouts of laziness and self-loathing. But you couldn’t admit defeat yet. There was always the chance he was running late. Giving him a little grace wouldn’t kill you.

Or maybe it would. The cold penetrated your bones and death felt imminent. You thought of places he could be, namely bars he could be wilting away in. You knew a few off the top of your head, dingy places that smelled like wet leaves and cigarettes. The closest one was only a few blocks away, a walk you could manage.

You tried to keep your cool as you made your way down the street. If he was there you wanted to seem unbothered by his behavior. You hated yourself for clinging to someone who could barely do the bare minimum. Maybe going home and eating a sad meal was what you deserved.

The door to the bar was open. You peered inside, eyes darting around as you searched for Kishibe. It took you no time to find him. He was at the bar with his head down, face buried in his arm. You sat beside him and cleared your throat. He wasn’t roused. You cleared your throat a little louder, but it was no use.

“Hey asshole,” you said, scratching the back of his head.

“Why are you here?” he grumbled.

You ignored his prickly question.

“Did you forget we have a date tonight?”

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you show up?”

He sighed and lifted his head. He looked exhausted and drunk. Alcohol wafted from his pores. He must have been at the bar for a while.

“Y’know… how sometimes you’ll see something so horrible that it makes you feel like you’ll just taint everything with your presence?”

“I’m not familiar with that feeling, no. Did something fucked up happen?”

He let out a throaty laugh. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” you replied flatly. “We can talk about it—”

He cut you off. “Nah. I’d rather spare you for once.”

“I can handle it.”

“You cried when I told you about that possessed girl swallowing razor blades.”

He was right. You did cry, but he also went into way too much detail about how the blood poured from her throat.

You scoffed. “Whatever. You’re still an asshole.” He snickered. “I’m serious. I froze my ass off waiting for you.”

“You could’ve gone inside,” he said before yawning.

“That would have been embarrassing. I’d look like a loser.”

“Good point.” He waved the bartender down and straightened his posture. “Two shots of whisky. Make one a double.”

The bartender stared Kishibe down. “The double better be for your friend. Don’t think I didn’t see you sleeping.”

“Can’t a guy be tired in public?”

The bartender rolled his eyes and went to the other end of the bar after the transaction making an effort to converse with the other patrons. You longed for the ability to walk away, but you were too attached. No one else in the world beckoned such devotion. You snatched the double shot and knocked it back, trying to not think about your overwhelming patheticness.

“I needed time to myself and by the time I realized that it was too late to tell you.”

The whisky burned as it made its way down your throat. You coughed into your elbow. You felt like you were going to hack up a lung. His irritating response did little to soothe your misery.

“What a baby,” he teased.

“I kind of hate you right now.”

“Good. You’re better off without me.”

You wanted to bite him. He spent so much time pursuing you. You thought about the nights where he’d fall asleep in your arms, face buried in your neck, because he couldn’t bear to do it on his own. He’d come to your apartment, his body battered and bleeding, practically begging for affection. And now he was trying to brush you off.

“No shit.” Your skin felt warm and your heart felt marginally softer. Skipping dinner betrayed you. “Are you… Is this how it’s going to be now?”

“I’m not good at making plans.”

“But you’re a professional at dropping by my apartment unannounced in the middle of the night.”

He smiled. “I never planned those visits. They just happened.”

He sensed your discontent.

“Listen. I…” He hung his head. “I wanna be that guy for you, but I’m not good at it.”

“You could try a little harder.” You stared at the purple bruise that bloomed on his cheek bone. “I’m willing to be patient, if that helps.”

He let his hand rest on your thigh. “You’re too easy.”

Your body felt heavy; you had never been so keenly aware of gravity, or how much you adored him.

“Only when it comes to you,” you said with a slight slur. “It’s ruining my life.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not,” you whined. “I just want you and you make it so hard for no reason.”

You shifted uncomfortably on the barstool. Your grip on it was tenuous. You had a clear vision of yourself sliding off of it, hitting your head and bleeding out in Kishibe’s arms. In your drunken haze you couldn’t help but find it a little romantic.

“My therapist thinks I should stop seeing you.”

He laughed. “Are you gonna listen to them?”

“I have no sense of self-preservation so no,” you joked.

“Well they’re right.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “But I am willing to try. I can probably manage—”

“Can you give me something more than probably?”

He exhaled sharply. “Sure.”

You struggled to wholeheartedly convince yourself he’d keep his word. It did feel like you were strong-arming him into being someone he wasn’t. It was possible you were asking too much of him, but your grip remained firm. He turned his gaze towards you, eyes dark and exhausted. Despite his tone, he looked sincere. He was a walking mixed signal.

“I promise,” he added.

He wanted to believe it so you followed his lead. “Alright. How about a drink to celebrate?”

“I doubt he’ll serve me again.”

“Have faith,” you said with a grin.

Kishibe was right. The bartender looked at you like you were insane when you asked for two more shots so you asked for one double. The bartender didn’t catch onto your plan, or more than likely he didn’t care enough to say anything. You took a gulp from the glass and passed it to Kishibe.

“I’m gonna end up carrying you home. I can feel it.”

You leaned on him. “Let’s leave then. I have beer at home.”

“I shouldn’t,” he said, resting his head on top of yours. “Not after what I did.”

“Shut up. You’re coming over.”

He didn’t take any further convincing. You left the bar without paying your tab. Alcohol tended to bring out the worst in you, especially when you were engulfed in a haze of desire.

Kishibe was right. He did end up carrying you. You clung to his back like a baby koala. You were more than capable of walking on your own, but pretending to be helpless was a joy to indulge in. You were almost disappointed when you arrived at your apartment. You asked him to unlock your door, again leaning into your faux helplessness.

“The beer’s in the fridge,” you said, slumping down into your couch.

He went into the kitchen and returned with two cans of beer. He cracked one open and handed it to you.

“I shouldn’t let you stay,” you mumbled knowing full well he’d be sleeping in your bed.

He took a swig of his beer and smirked. “Then kick me out.”

You pouted. “I’m too lazy.”

He plopped down next to you, letting his arm snake around you. He pulled you close. Your head dropped onto his broad shoulder. He turned his head and inhaled, taking in your scent.

“Your hair smells nice.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“One compliment isn’t going to do it.” You playfully shoved him away, but let your hand linger on his arm, his muscles tense with anticipation. “I need more than that.”

He chuckled before taking a sizable swig of beer.

“More than that, huh?” He got up and got on his knees in front of you, his dark eyes locked on yours. “How about I take off your pants and make you come all over my tongue?”

You sighed and ran your fingers through his hair. “Oh wow. You’re sooo charming. You really got me going right now,” you snarked.

“C’mon. Be nice to me.”

You twirled a strand of his hair between your fingers and gave it a gentle pull. “But it’s more fun to be mean.”

He unbuttoned your pants and unzipped them. You lifted your hips and let him pull them off of you. He nuzzled his face into your cunt, kissing it through your damp underwear. His eyes never left yours. There was a softness to his gaze, a tenderness you only saw when in the comfort of your home. Something in him changed when he was in the safety your apartment granted. So often he looked worn down, weathered by death and devastation, but once he walked through your door his stress drifted away.

“I really do love you.”

“Don’t say that,” he murmured as he tugged at your underwear.

“Why? It’s true.”

“It’s too much pressure.”

“Ser—seriously? You’ve been begging for me to say that forever.”

He slipped two of his calloused fingers into your cunt. “That was one time. And it was after I saw three people get eviscerated at once.”

You rocked your hips against his fingers. “Still counts,” you mumbled.

The ability to speak was becoming difficult. Your brain was fogged by arousal, any form of rational thought was impossible. You wanted to shut it down completely.

“Whatever you say,” he said before pulling out his fingers, sucking your fluids off of them.

Your consciousness melted away as he sucked on your clit. You couldn’t even remember why you were frustrated with him. Dinner was a nonentity. There was no way someone capable of making you feel so good could hurt you.

He paused and you heard the faint sound of a zipper. He grumbled a brief “sorry” before he spat into his hand. He stroked himself, hand gliding up and down his shaft. You ran your fingers through his hair, and guided his head between your thighs. He rolled his tongue against your swollen cunt as you writhed against the couch, ensnared in mindless ardor.

You arched your back and sighed, your body warming with every languid lick. The weight of your impending orgasm pinned you down, almost suffocating in its intensity. You held his head close as you panted and grunted, unleashing a deluge of fluids. He slipped his tongue between your folds and drank every drop of you in.

He pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

“Pretty sure I got cum on the couch,” he said with a hint of pride.

You exhaled and stared up at the ceiling. “You fuck up our dinner plans… And now… you fuck up my furniture.”

He kissed your thigh. “Mhm.”

“You’re a dog,” you murmured.

“Yeah, but I’m your dog.”

“Then it shouldn’t be so hard to train you.”

You looked down at him. He had a point. At the end of the day, he was yours. Sure he sucked at committing to being an actual boyfriend, but he never fully strayed from you. He always crawled back. You couldn’t give up, not yet.

#kishibe x reader #kishibe csm x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #x reader #reader insert #.fics #.csm #.kishibe #kishibe smut #csm smut #chainsaw man smut

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