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mieluscious · 4 months

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you better move. gojo satoru

ෆ pairings : gojo satoru x female reader

ෆ genre : smut, pwp

ෆ word count : 3k3

ෆ warnings : mdni. bully roommate!gojo, sub!reader, fingering, teasing, orgasm denial (just once dw), degradation, rough sex, sextape, cockwarming, jealousy (reader is trying to make a random guy jealous and gojo's gonna help her), gojo is kinda soft at the end. . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

"fuck i hate him !" you tapped your foot angrily on the living room floor.

"what's wrong y/n. and where the fuck is your pants." gojo was watching wrestling on the tv but it was quite difficult since you were standing in front of it and it was slowly getting on his nerves.

"you know that guy i've been talking to for a few days ?" he nodded, spread his thighs and rested his back against the sofa, his eyes still focused on the tv. "he’s getting on my nerves so fucking much ! he's trying to make me jealous when all i want to do is fuck him and throw him away." you walked quickly towards gojo and showed him the screen of your phone. "look." gojo's eyes lazily moved to the video of the guy you're talking about kissing a girl at a frat party.

he turned his attention back to the tv. "why do you care if you just want to fuck." you pouted at his reaction, as if what you'd just shown him wasn't a big deal. your eyes fell on gojo's hand, which slipped under his shirt to scratch his stomach and you smiled devilishly when an idea suddenly came to you.

you moved a little closer and sat on him, he slowly lifted his face towards yours with a questioning look. "what are you doing y/n." you opened the camera app on your phone and pulled his shirt up over his chest. you put your warm hand on his abs and gojo raised his hips with you on it to reposition himself on the sofa.

you took a photo but since he moved the result was blurred. you pinched the skin of his stomach and he grunted. "argh stop moving." you took another picture and this time you were proud of you, we could clearly see that you were sitting right on top of his clothed cock and your hand were caressing his abs. you sent it to the mf.

"are you done now ?" you looked up at gojo and his gaze was bored. you stuck out your tongue and smiled at him. he rolled his eyes before bringing his attention back to the tv.

you flinched slightly when your phone rang faster than expected. you grabbed gojo's face. "omg he's saying my picture's fake who does he think i am?"

"well. it's fake y/n." he slapped your ass. "now move." gojo closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly to one side as he tried to contain his annoyance when you suddenly pressed your chest against his and ran a hand through his hair, choosing a good angle so that we could see your face and the back of gojo's head. he pulled the elastic band of your panties and let it snap against the skin of your hip. "move."

"shut up im almost done." gojo gasped silently when you brought your lips to his ear and bit down gently before taking another picture. you rested your elbows on either side of his head on the back of the sofa. typing rapidly on your phone. "he still doesn't seem to believe me huh." gojo's eyes fell on your ass and the way your hips rubbed against his dick without you realizing it, since you were too busy putting your little plan into action. "tf is wrong with him satoru i don't understand why-" you suddenly mewled as you felt gojo's tongue against your throat. he still had his head against the back of the couch and his legs spread a little wider wanting to give you more room on his cock. "w-what are you doing ?" your phone slipped out of your hand and gojo caught it before it fell to the ground, he threw it on the sofa and his hands slipped under your shirt, slowly caressing your back.

his tongue slipped from your collarbones to your chin. "didn't i tell you to move?" you were about to say you were sorry when one of his hands pinched the skin of your hip. "such a disrespectful girl." his other hand slid down your back to your ass. "using me for you little games mh ?"

"i-im sorry i told you i was almost done." his fingers rested on the fabric of your panties right at the entrance of your pussy. you threw your head back and firmly grasped his shirt over his shoulders. "i-i said i was sorry stop bullying me."

he raised his face to you with a smirk and tilted his head to the side. his hand, which had been on your hip, went up to your hair to undo your bun, your hair slipped down your shoulders and your back. you moaned prettily as you lowered your head back to gojo, his gaze sliding over your half-open mouth. "such a pretty girl like you, begging other guys to fuck her." you caught your lower lip between your lips and sighed a small sorry. his hand slipped down your neck and his lips pressed against your ear. "when she could just ask me."

your relationship with gojo was different from what you had with other boys, you've known him since highschool and you secretly always wanted him to fuck you but you never took that step. gojo was very popular at school and you never thought you could have a chance with him. and to be honest he didn't seem very interested in you from the way he behaved with you, he was always nonchalant and didn't seem to care about what you had to say most of the time. you didn't hate him, on the contrary, you found him amusing and you liked to tease him a lot.

his voice sent shivers down your spine and you closed your eyes, savoring the sensation. "you’re making fun of me." he brought his face towards you again, his nose almost touching yours.

you opened your eyes and flinched slightly at the sight of his gaze, his magnificent blue eyes were so dark and intimidating. "i think you're the one who's making fun of me." he tugged at the fabric of your panties, slamming them back against the entrance of your pussy. you moaned louder and immediately arched you back, your breasts pressed harder against his muscular chest. "look at me." you grabbed his shirt tighter, you were about to slip and your body was shaking because of him. you raised your gaze to his. "you walk around half naked in front of me and talk about other guys all day long." you opened your mouth under his ocean eyes when you felt his fingers push the fabric of your panties to slowly get inside your pussy. his other hand slipped from your neck and pressed a finger to your chin, making you open your mouth wider. "and then you dare to sit on me." his long fingers slid slowly between your wet walls and a sob escaped from your pretty glossy lips. he smirked and licked his lips, not missing a beat. "you used me as you pleased when all i wanted was to watch tv." he removed his fingers completely from your pussy before roughly inserting them inside again, hitting your g-spot hard. you screamed and squeezed gojo's waist tightly between your thighs. you could feel your whole body trembling and your mouth was constantly open, to the point of having drool almost dripping from your lips. your feverish gaze never left gojo's, who could only admire the show you were offering him. "and then you dare to grind this little pussy on my dick." he fingerfucked you roughly, making you bounce against his chest. “i may be your friend y/n but at the end of the day i'm still a man.” your mouth was so close to his that you could feel his breath on your tongue as he spoke to you.

gojo was so nonchalant in everything he did. a few minutes ago he was slumped on the couch, watching tv while scratching his stomach and now he's in the same position but he’s fucking you with his two long ass fingers like it was nothing. and all of that with the same bored expression on his face. "p-please..-" he pressed his finger harder on your chin and you stuck your tongue out a little. "i-im gonna cum." your walls tightened around his fingers and he knew you were about to cum so he wasted no time removing his fingers from your cunt.

you sobbed, beating his chest with your fists. "i fucking hate you-" you grabbed his shirt and pulled it in all directions with anger, the collar was stretched out, revealing his collarbones and almost the top of his chest. gojo lazily glanced at your breasts, which rose and fell because of your breathing and every gesture you made, making them even more delicious.

his hand went to one of your breasts and gently slapped it, making it jiggle. "why are they so big." you crossed your arms over your chest, stabbing him with your eyes.

"don't look. don't touch." you tried to get up to go to your room and curse him until you fell asleep, but gojo decided otherwise as he grabbed you by the waist and laid you on the couch. you blushed when he straightened up to take off his shirt without taking his eyes off you, you felt so small under him.

"the way you cling to the idea that i'm interested in what comes out of your pretty little mouth is so sweet." he grabbed your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your bare breasts to his envious gaze. "fucking big." he pulled the shirt from around your head, leaving your arms up and trapped by the fabric. you arched your back slightly when you met his piercing gaze, you were so intimidated, it frustrated you and gojo noticed it. cute.

"stop looking." he slapped your inner thighs and you squealed.

"how could i stop looking at such a sweet lil thing ?" he firmly grasped your hip with one hand and pressed his crotch against your wet covered pussy. "look at this." he grabbed the fabric of your panties and yanked them off, revealing your dripping pussy. his finger slipped over your clit, collecting a drop of your juice before bringing it to his mouth, sucking slowly on it. his gaze returned to yours. "is she crying for me ?" you could feel your wetness dripping even more between your legs. he slid his hand down your hip to the back of your thigh before leaning over you. you moaned and arched your back a bit more as you felt the warm skin of his chest brush against the tip of your breasts. "now you're gonna have to be honest with me." he put his forearm next to your face while the other one slipped into his pants to pull out his cock. "how long have you been waiting for this y/n ?" you pushed the back of your head into the sofa beneath you as you saw him move a little closer, his nose touching yours. "how long have you been dreaming of me fucking you ?" your mouth opened to let out a moan when you felt the tip of his cock caress the entrance to your pussy and gojo took the opportunity to lick the hollow of your tongue. you blushed. his gaze on you became more insistent, but you held your tongue. you didn't want to give him an answer. his nose grazed your cheek and placed a light kiss on it. “don’t act so shy now.” you felt your body tremble again as the tip of his tongue entered your ear, making you mewl louder with one eye closed.

“i-i won’t answer you.” you felt him smile against your ear.

“may i ask why.” he straightened slightly, placing his two hands on either side of your head, the strands of his white hair gently brushing the skin of your forehead. his eyes have never been as blue as they are now.

“because you’re a bully and you love to play with me, you don’t deserv-” you didn't even have time to finish your sentence when gojo cut you off by pushing his whole cock roughly into your pussy. his eyes wandered over every inch of your face, from your flushed cheeks to your delicious mouth, which opened wide to moan loudly. little tears formed at the corners of your eyes when you tried to free yourself from the shirt that was trapping your arms to try to hold on to gojo, but you weren't strong enough.

gojo looked down on you with a smirk. “what were you saying ?” one of his hands slid on your lower belly wanting to feel his cock inside you. “you're good at taking it.” little noises came out of your mouth every time you tried to breathe, and gojo couldn't help but find you adorable. he suddenly grabbed your hips with both hands and lifted your ass off the couch, before brutally starting to thrust his cock deep inside you, causing the sofa to bang against the wall and the pillows to fall to the floor. “s’ tight.” he threw his head back with a soft moan and turned his attention back to you. your back arched, you tried to tell him to slow down but you were a moaning mess. your breasts jiggled with each thrust. gojo brought you with him by the hips and put one foot on the floor while his knee remained on the sofa, he grabbed the back of one of your knees and pressed it against your shoulder, opening you up much more to fuck you even harder. he leaned over you and placed his other hand on the back of the sofa above your head, your eyes fell on his necklace, which swayed up and down against his chest. your teeth caught your lower lip in a mewl when you met his piercing gaze again - he was so hot. “you better answer me before i get mean.” you moved your trapped arms again, trying to free yourself under his burning eyes, you were trapped like a little mouse in the evil cat's trap.

“s-sato-..” he let go of your knee but you still remained open while his hand slipped over one of your breasts, which he pinched hard, making you arch your back and cry out. you could feel the skin of your belly caressing his abs, and the sensation of his pubic bone rubbing your clit with each of his powerful thrusts made you moan even louder. you threw your head back when you felt gojo press his face against your neck and bite, his tongue slipped from your jaw to your ear as he whispered to you to hurry up. and at that moment you wanted to answer him but no coherent words could come out of your mouth except moans and sobs, you wanted him to untie you and let you touch him so you could finally cum but you knew that gojo was an impatient person and the longer you took the crazier he became. “t-too m-mu…ch-”

and suddenly everything changed. in the blink of an eye you found yourself sitting with your back against his chest while he held your arms firmly behind your back with one hand, making you bounce at inhuman speed on his cock. the grip of his hand on your arms tightened when he heard you sob as you threw your head back on his shoulder, a few strands of hair splayed across your face. “i warned you y/n.” he grabbed your phone, which he'd thrown on the sofa earlier, and unlocked it to open the camera app. he pressed record and aimed the lens at your flushed face. “look at her.” he let go of your arms and grabbed your face, positioning his mouth towards yours before biting your lips hard, making you cry out. he turned his attention to his reflection on the screen of your phone and smiled evilly. “this is the little princess you didn’t wanna fuck.” he lifted his knee which was under yours and planted his foot on the sofa. you were so open that you could hear even more the wet sounds of what was happening between your thighs. his hand went to your hip when he positioned the camera angle on his throbbing cock fucking inside your pussy. “is it real enough for you this time ?” he grabbed the shirt around your arms and tore it, freeing you. you didn't waste any time and put an arm around his shoulders before finally grabbing his soft white hair, making him grunt. your other hand went to his thigh and you started to bounce on his cock yourself, fucking him while he turned the camera back to your face. he slipped his hand over your belly before catching one of your tits in his large hand. “she's so fucking good, and too bad for you that's my dick she's sitting on.” he sent the video and threw your phone on the coffee table. you arched your back against his chest as his other hand slipped between your legs to pinch your clit before massaging it roughly. “look at you using me again.” you threw your head on your shoulder with a loud moan as you felt the orgasm rising inside you. “are you having fun on my cock baby ?” you nodded and turned your face towards his, mouth wide open against his as he pinched the bud of your breast. “pretty face wanna cum mh? fuck.” you nodded again and hearing him moan so loudly inside your mouth was too much for you when your eyes almost rolled to the back of your skull as a wave of pleasure swept through your body once again.

“p-plea-” you tugged harder on his hair as he grabbed the back of your knees before lifting you up against his chest to roughly thrust his cock up inside your dripping cunt like an animal. your screams blended together and echoed against the living room walls, now you were convinced that the neighbors could hear you fucking. gojo pressed his face against the back of your neck and sank his teeth into your delicate skin when you both finally came at the same time with loud moans.

after a few seconds you fell back on gojo who grabbed you by the waist, you could hear him breathing heavily in your ear, and it made you blush when he pressed a soft kiss on it. he threw his head back on the back of the sofa and slid his hands down to your thighs, caressing them gently. you tightened your pussy walls around his cock making him moan with a smile on his beautiful lips. “i can’t remove it.” you slapped his thigh wanting him to let you go so you can get cleaned up. “sorry. pussy too fucking good. lemme sleep like this.”

you sighed and straightened yourself up, you ran a hand over the back of your neck. “you really had to bite me ?” you turned your face towards him and he tilted his head to one side, smiling. you turned your attention back in front of you and blushed. “since highschool.”

“hm ?” he slid his hands over your waist massaging it with his thumbs. he raised his oceanic eyes and noticed your flushed ears. he brought a finger over one of them and you flinched with a little squeal making him smile.

“i've been wanting you to touch me since highschool.”

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murdrdocs · 4 months

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THRILL OF IT. luke castellan

description. when luke chases you, most of the fun comes with what happens next.

includes. suggestive content MDNI, GN!reader, chasing, hunter/prey vibes, luke lifts r once, size kink vibes, dom!luke

wc: 1k+

a/n: inspired by luke saying "they know better"

Footsteps sound from behind you, heavy and thunderous as they snap twigs and leaves with each step. You know he’s not attempting to be stealthy. He wants you to know he’s right on you. He wants you a little scared.

You try to pretend you’re not, but your heart is thumping with more than exertion.

You, on the other hand, run as light as you can. Lodging your sneakers amongst the in-between spots, searching for the softest part of the ground to press into. You hope he's not checking for foot prints, you can't afford time to cover your tracks.

Speed is your main concern, and Luke Castellan is fast. He's agile. And he's going to catch you. it's only a matter of time before you're wrapped in his arms and left at his mercy.

No matter how many times you and Luke rehearse this dance, changing moves throughout, the ending is always the same.

He gives you a head start only to catch up in less than a minute. He runs a little bit slower only to eventually have you in his arms. No matter how much mercy he chooses to give you, you always lose.

He's always the winner.

(Yet, with the reward he chooses, you figure that you both win in the end)

Luke snaps a twig diagonal to your left and sings your name. He's smiling, you can hear it in the syllables. Just as you know he's going to catch you, he knows the same.

He's a natural at this. He was born with something you weren't. Something you had to work to gain. Something he had to train you in, and even then the skill wasn't completely hardwired into your body.

Still, he must have taught you something because it is pure instinct whenever your body sends you to the right.

You weave between trees, bouncing off of rocks with trained deftness. If luke wasn’t hunting you like you were prey currently, you would boast to him about your improvement. Instead, you worry about how you're accidentally triggering the loud crunch of leaves along the way. You're breathing too hard, too, you can't really help it, and you figure that at this point you should try to hide.

You thought you would have more time, maybe a little more distance to adequately prepare yourself, but you turn around the base of a large tree and then you’re being pulled into his chest, lifted off the ground a little without much effort from him.

You hadn't heard him get closer to you, or maybe you misinterpreted where he was the entire time. Still, it doesn't matter because you've been caught.

You try to squirm out of his grasp. Maybe get away and buy yourself some more time. After all, it's not over until you've given up. Until he's made you submit.

But Luke's strong. His arms aren't budging and after only a few fruitless seconds of trying to escape, you go limp.

He’s laughing as he's putting you down facing that same tree, not even gracing you with the sight of his face. He cages you against bark by pushing his groin into your ass and pressing both of his hands into the tree on either side of your head. He's a little tired, too, breathing just loud enough for you to hear.

When he rests his forehead against the back of your neck, you can feel how damp his skin is. It makes you proud. Finally, you'd given Luke a real challenge. Gone were the times where he had you in his arms within five minutes.

"Longest you've lasted," he admits, laughing a little against your skin before he presses a kiss there.

You're about to say something snarky and full of pride, feeling like you're allowed to brag this once. But Luke speaks before you can even think of a reply.

“But you know better, don't you?” He speaks next to your ear, his cheek soft against your earlobe and your own cheek with the proximity. You know the question isn't rhetorical, he expects you to respond.

You're too headstrong to do so. Too upset at having been caught again.

As if to prompt you, Luke nudges the side of your face with his nose. "Hm? Don't you, angel?"

He removes one hand from the rough bark to run it down your side, gripping your hip with enough strength to warn you.

Don't try to run, he's telling you.

With where this is leading, you wouldn't dream of it.

You sigh with a little too much attitude. It's harsh, a small growl almost forming in your throat like you're one of Hades' own creatures and not Luke's lover.

He briefly comments on your behavior with a tut, digging into your side and pulling you back against him with more force. "You know how I get when you're like this."

It's not a threat or a warning. He likes when you have some bite. The stiff erection in his pants is testament.

His head ducks and he nips at your neck. "Answer me."

You might as well. Especially if you want to get what you want.

"Yes, Luke."

"'Yes' what?"

"I know better."

He hums a little appreciatively. Like he's pleased.

His hand circles around to the front of your shorts where he pops the button and slides the zipper down. He slips his hand into the gap created, pressing two fingers into the damp spot of your underwear. His free hand grips your chin, turning your head to the side so he can fully stare down at you.

There's a hard look in his eyes. The deep brown, practically black, is full of arrogance. The look of a winner.

"And what else do you know?" He's slid his hand under the elastic of your underwear at this point. He's not wasting any time, and you understand that there's no point in prolonging things.

This time, you're quick to respond, letting your head fall back to rest against the solid flesh of Luke's chest as you wrap a hand around his wrist to ground yourself.

"You'll always catch me," comes your response, a little breathless.

That only makes Luke grin wider. Bigger. More triumphant.

"That's right."

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #celeste writes misc #luke castellan

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okwonyo · 5 months

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being jump-hugged.

엔하이픈 형선 ୨୧ femreader six hundred fluff established relationship + cw. not proof-read skinship petnames ( other )

heeseung would be surprised, in a good way, however. surprised because he wouldn't have seen it coming, at all. but, still— he'd be extremely happy about it. he'd smile when he'd hear you scream his name from across the street, gawking when he'd see you run towards him after he turned around to see you. at first, he wouldn't know where to put his arms when you jump on him, he'd hug you back at the end. with an idiotic smile on his face.

jeongseong would be beyond prepared for it— spreading his arms, bending forward an inch, just so he can perfectly catch you and hold you by the thighs. he'd do that so attractively, grin drawn on his face, waiting for you to finally come to him. and when you'd pull away, still being lift up by you— he'd look up to you in a way that never fails to flutter you, “are you okay princess?” he asks and you hide your red face in the crook of his neck.

jaeyun wouldn't expect it, not even a bit. already so shocked when he'd hear your voice calling for him from god-knows-where, even more when he finally gets where you are coming from and feels your body completely collapsing against his. he has fast reflexes, of course he'd catch you in a millisecond— although he'd still let out a tiny “oof,” he'd still press your body against his, letting your scent make him go crazy.

sunghoon would be super confused, this poor boy wouldn't ever expect you to be happy and exited enough to hug in such a way. you know, he'd ask himself why are you running so fast, are you okay.. he'd stumble on his feet when you jump-hug him, warping his arms around you body tightly to ground himself, “whoa,” he'd dumply exclaim. he'd start laughing too when he hears you doing so, “you scared me”

seonwoo would tell you to calm down as soon as he'd gets what you are doing, “wait, wait, wait—” because he wants to get prepared before anything. you wouldn't listen to him, it would be no fun if you did— therefore, you would both probably end up on the floor like two idiots. he'd try to act as if he annoyed but the sound of your laughter would make him loose it, “this isn't funny, really stop laughing,” hiding his face after helping you getting up. “this is so embarrassing...”

jungwon would be as excited as you are, mainly because seeing you like that makes him feel that way too. he would match your energy to the maximum, screaming your name if you does the same for his and spreading his arms as he runs to you. he'd even turn on himself after catching you, he'd know it'd make you giggle. “i missed you too” he'd assure you before you even said anything (you missed him more).

riki would be the one to most likely do this kind of stuff— it might sound surprising but he'd like to do that a lot, especially because you are shorter than him and he likes to put all his weight on you to annoy you. but, when you do it, it'd be a different type of enjoyment. he'd think you are so, and emphasize on that word, cute. he wouldn't let go of you after successfully catching you, holding you and rocking you side to side as if you were a big plushy.

⠀

taglist open ❕@manooffline @ibsysbsfsunsbs @nwjws @lilriswife4life @alaezasmystery235 @teddywonss @tyussday @cholexxc @flickqr @yuviqik @wvnrqs @strawberrywonz @y-ves @isawritesss @filmofhybe @ikeucakes @gweoriz @hongincha @ashtxtrie @soul-is-a-strange-kid @jaelaxies networks @k-films @kflixnet @/k-labels

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jungwondazed · 5 months

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18+ only. jungwon asks if you read smut before.

jungwon had been staring at you a little too much as you both watched the tv together, giving him a few frowns made him only shake his head with a soft smile, raising his eyebrows in innocence.

you ignored his behavior and continued on with the many episodes of the night. he was eyeing you, looking away every time you turned to him and it was beginning to frustrate you because it obviously wasn't a serious enough matter for him to have that certain sly look on his face. he was plotting something and you were growing irritated.

when the final episode ended you stood up to put away your bowl of popcorn and jungwon lightly tugs at your shirt, not saying a thing but motioning you to stay put.

you look all over his face trying to detect anything wrong but he looked way too pleasant if anything.

"i wanted to ask you something" he says, and your heart is immediately racing, a conversation never goes well when it starts this way.

"yeah?"

"how do i say this.." he puts his pointer finger to his chin all cliche like, cuter than you'd like to admit.

"you know before we started seeing each other, you were a fan right?" he continues and you almost laugh because bringing this up so casually was too random, he obviously knows you were a fan before this relationship happened.

""yes... where is this going? don't tell me you can't handle dating someone who was once a huge fan now" you dramatically roll your eyes and he giggles, bringing his hands to hold your arms lovingly.

"no no, not at all, you know i love it." his eyes looking very alluring in this light.

jungwon looks down at the floor, a grin creeping up on his face and you're three seconds away from hitting him with a couch pillow.

"did you ever happen to," he starts, chuckling a bit and looking up at you, turning away and laughing in his shoulder.

"happen to what? wonnie just say it already you've been acting strange all night, just say it" you mutter out while lightly rocking his body back in forth.

"you didn't happen to engage in any, adult content did you?" he asks, eyes directly on you and you can't tell what he's asking.

"what? engage in adult content? like did i watch porn before dating you?"

"no no no, not that, i meant like, when it comes to me. did you, did you you know.." he trails off. hand rubbing the back of his neck as he fights back a genuine laugh.

"i am beyond confused right now jungwon." you're about to get up again because it felt like he was just gonna tease you all night and the sleepiness was taking over.

he pulls you back on top of him this time, his face just inches away with his expression more serious.

"hey, why are you walking away from me?" he brings his thumb to caress your cheek while leaning in to kiss you, to which you pull back from.

"you're just gonna mess with me all night if i don't."

he feels bad, but at the same time he's enjoying your pout a bit too much. bringing his hands to firmly hold you by your lower back, he caresses you everywhere, making you gasp in the sudden transition to intimacy.

"wonnie, what-"

"i just wanted to know if you read any mature writing about me, i know that's a big thing you know" he's turned on, the smirk is less evident and his brows crease faintly.

your face heats up, turning away immediately at such a question because it was the last thing you expected. by adult content he meant smut?? and about him at that? you would never admit to this no matter how much he presses you into it, being a previous fan girl made you self conscious as is.

"hmm? what's your answer to that?" his head tilts, his eyes smiling.

"i don't, i don't know what you're talking about"

his actions still, a long pause before staring into your eyes. was he always this devious?

"ohhh," he's really smirking this time. "ahhh so you don't know that fans often read erotic media about their favorite members is that it? is that what you're saying? like you didn't have a clue this was a thing? based on your response it really seems like you don't know anything about this" and his lips are already tracing themselves over your neck and collar bones. he's turned on, to say the least, and you can't figure out why.

you let him have at you, not knowing what to say to that as he made his point very well. of course you knew what it was, if you hadn't read any you could've been honest and say you just didn't engage in it at all, but you did. and you're caught, and jungwon is gonna have a field day with this one.

he looks up at you through his sharp eyes, eyelids closing slowly as he licks right up your neck to your lower jaw, finally kissing you on your lips.

jungwon spends the whole night begging you to tell him all about the pieces you've read, what he does to the reader in them, the different kinks that people assume he has. you narrate all the ones you can think of, and he mirrors your words by doing exactly the things you read. you start off with mentioning a piece where he likes it really hard, to which he fucks you with great force. you talk about how you always thought he was one for loving head and he argues how he's a giver if anything, working his tongue in your pussy until you cum all over him. jungwon got off on the idea that you had these dirty thoughts before he even knew of your existence, and he promises that he can demonstrate all those fantasies you read in the past, as a reality.

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jungwondazedjungwon #enha smut #jungwon hard hours #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon smut

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usedtobecooler · 2 years

Note

Omg your squirting fics are top tier. Please, please could I get something where the reader confesses that no guy has ever made her squirt it’s only been herself and it usually depends on how rough she goes at it, so Eddie is just heart eyes and wants to be the first to make her squirt for him.

Cue super soaker 🔫🔫🔫

i am absolutely fucking feral lmao

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), fingering f receiving, squirting, dirty talk, groping, straight up smut

Word Count | 1.1k

"I'm telling you, Eds, nobody has ever been able to make me squirt before. Just myself but, like, I've really only done it real good once." You had been so sheepish, cheeks burning hot as you admitted this to him. How you got onto the topic you don't remember, but Eddie had always been nosey and pried at every little inch of your life.

"I bet I could make you squirt." Eddie's words had come out fast, blurted out like word vomit, his eyes wild like he's up to something "My fingers are skilled, don't you know."

You had rolled your eyes at him, shoving him playfully. You'd pondered it for a moment, expecting him to back out once you'd said - "Fine then, rockstar. Prove me wrong, put those fingers to good use."

You missed the way Eddie looked at you with heart eyes, the way his cock had kicked up in his pants at the thought of finally being able to get his hands on you. He'd grabbed your hand, pulling you out of your seat and tugging you through to his room.

That's how you ended up here, in this situation. Nuzzled tight between Eddie's spread legs in front of the floor length mirror in his room, leaning back against his front with your head rested on his shoulder.

He spread your legs apart roughly, had made you strip naked from the waist down and bent your legs up so he could get a good view of your wet cunt and thick thighs in the mirror. He had wanted you to watch him make you fall apart, make you watch yourself squirt and make a mess for him.

It was new, but you weren't nervous, as Eddie slid two expert fingers up and down your folds, getting the digits nice and wet before sinking them both into your cunt, crooking them and finding your spongey spot almost immediately.

Eddie was just so good at everything he put his mind to. You'd never had any doubt he'd be good at fucking, you'd heard whispers from some of the girls around town before and from what they'd said he knew his way around pussy, could have anybody folding for him.

"Is this okay?" Eddie asks, though his voice drips with confidence as you suck in a shuddery breath, nodding at his reflection and moaning. His doe eyes are watching you, flitting back and forth between your face and where his fingers sink into your cunt, wetness already dripping down the inside of his wrist.

You're turned into a moaning mess pretty quickly, Eddie's calloused fingertips pressing into your g-spot relentlessly, free hand roaming your clothed torso, dipping in through the neck of your shirt to give your tit a squeeze, fingertips grazing your nipple.

You're loud too, you know you are, the heat in your tummy increasing as you watch Eddie's lust blown eyes watching you, drinking in every little bit of your body like he wants to devour you. You know that his neighbours can probably hear, his window is wide open and it's not as if there's much space between trailers.

It makes your gut churn, knowing that anybody could walk by and hear you getting finger fucked into oblivion. Heat blooms in your body, makes your cunt clench, "Fuck, Eddie, you're so good at this, so so good."

"Yeah? Really?" Eddie's smirking, crooking his fingers again and stopping the pumping, just sliding the pads back and forth to stimulate your g-spot until you're gasping, "You have no idea how fucking sexy you look, God. Your pussy looks so pretty, stuffed full on my fingers."

You whine, squeezing your eyes shut, cunt clamping down on his fingers at the praise - he knew what buttons to press with you, knew that you liked to be spoken to in this way. He was insatiable.

Eddie grabs a hold of your cheeks roughly, shaking your head until you're forced to look at yourself in the mirror again, "Look at yourself when I make you cum like a filthy slut."

The moan you let out is ungodly, Eddie's gorgeous brown orbs full of lust and heat as his gaze flits between looking at your flushed face and his fingers sinking deep into your cunt. The noises are so loud, your sopping wet pussy engulfing his fingers invading your senses.

"C'mon baby, know you can do it for me," Eddie's grinning at your reflection in the mirror, transfixed on your flushed face, "know you wanna squirt around my fingers. Do it for me please, sweetheart."

Eddie's words should be cute but they come out so vulgar, have your gummy pussy clenching and spasming around his fingers. The wet noises increase tenfold in your ears, his voice making you impossibly wetter for him.

Your orgasm builds so quickly you barely comprehend it, prickly heat spreading all over your body, feeling like your bladder is impossibly full and you need to relieve yourself. Your tummy feels like it's in knots, a high-pitched whine leaving your open mouth.

"E-Eddie, oh god, fuck, I'm cumming," You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping onto his free hand roughly as the coil in your tummy finally unravels and you're coming, release soaking Eddie's hand and wrist, pooling under your ass. He refuses to let up his relentless fingers on your soft spot, pressing on it roughly until he coaxes another wet spurt out of you.

"Fuck yeah, there's my girl!" Eddie's chin is hooked on your shoulder, watching you gush and squirt all over the floor through mirror, some of it even sparking up the glass. He's grinning like the cat that got the cream, all toothy and proud as you moan and whine in his grasp.

Your chest is heaving from the sheer force of your release, whole body shaking as you come down from it. Eddie's fingers slide out of you deftly, forcing a choked off sob out of you, cunt clenching around emptiness.

He nuzzles at your ear with his nose, pressing a wet kiss to the shell, "Knew you could do it for me, babe. Fuck, that was so hot."

You keen into the touch, nuzzling in and laying back to completely lean your weight on him. His squirt slicked hand rubs up and down the inside of your thigh - it's filthy and probably disgusting but it feels so nice you struggle to care.

You lay there for a moment, until you feel a damp patch form on the back of your shirt that definitely wasn't from you, "Eddie did you... did you cum in your pants?"

Eddie chuckles into your ear, unabashedly and completely unbothered, nodding his head, "First girl to ever make me do that, too. Guess we're even, sweetheart."

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #my fanfic #mine #x reader #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x reader

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luveline · 2 years

Text

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue the movies, nachos, cherry cough syrup, and a couple of moments of clarity. [10k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!! tw sick fic

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie has the most peculiar curl tucked up by his neck. Where most are frizzy and loose, this one falls in a perfect shiny ringlet below his ear. He shifts and it's out of view, a curtain of dark hair falling forward and hiding his face as he puts your car in park.

"Remind me why you had to drive?" you ask, ducking down to look at the glaring white lights of the movie theatre across the street.

"You were gonna fall asleep behind the wheel."

For once, Eddie might not be exaggerating. He grins at your lack of rebuttal and throws an arm behind your shoulders, twisting in the driver's seat to set his sights on Junie.

"Are you ready?" he asks her.

She wiggles. It's an ecstatic movement. Her clothes are prim and sweet if you do say so yourself, a long sleeved shirt under a pair of the world's cutest dungarees. They crinkle as she moves, pressed to perfection.

You and Eddie open opposite doors in tandem and step out into the brisk, early night. The sidewalk shines with rain, a black slickness stretching in every direction. You shiver and pull your thin jacket tighter to your torso as you turn back to the car, intending to retrieve Junie and rush into the theatre before you can freeze on the spot.

Eddie's already swung open the door and rescued your daughter from the confines of her car seat, neatening up the hem of one of her socks with her face pushed over his shoulder.

She giggles about something and Eddie says, "Sorry, June. 'M tickling you, am I?" so fondly you have to avert your eyes.

He locks the car and hands over your keys with a smile. You smile back, heart flipping like a spinning coin. Head over tails, over and over.

The big, ring-heavy hand he holds to Junie's back reaches for you suddenly enough that you flinch.

"I'm sorry," he apologises, suppressing a laugh, "your necklace is twisted."

He moves in a second time and you raise your chin, chest aflame as his fingers glance off of your bare skin. He slips the chain over his index and pulls, encouraging the links around until the clasp is hidden again.

"Thank you." You huff an awkward, sheepish laugh.

"You owe me," he says, mock-severe.

Your laugh is much more genuine as you follow him across the road.

You're squinting as you approach The Hawk movie theatre. The title cards are hard to look at, aggressively white with black capital letters that read, 'The Great Mouse Detective 7'.

There's a small line of families waiting by the front. You realise it like a shock, that the three of you must look like a family too.

Eddie carries Junie with the surety of a dad that's carried his child a hundred times before; he strokes the back of her head with the affection of one, soothing the mess of flyaways she'd acquired by squirming in her car seat. Junie responds with familiarity, hands tucked into his hair and tugging. She's trying to be nice but his hair won't allow it, all his long curls tangled at the ends from a day at work.

Still, he says, "Thanks, baby. Make sure you get the back, okay?"

"Okay," she echoes.

You look down at your wringing hands. There's ink smudged up the side of your writing hand. You scratch at it half-heartedly, blinking against your fatigue.

You're exhausted tonight and it's only Wednesday. You can't imagine how you'll fare tomorrow considering how little sleep you're expecting tonight — there are a thousand things to do when you get home. Laundry to wash and press, cleaning to do, dinner to make.

You'd been writing cheques for due bills when Eddie had come knocking, well-dressed, stupid-handsome, and announced that tonight you would be accompanying him to the movies. He'd actually said 'accompanying'.

Despite a full agenda, you'd said yes. You're not very good at saying no. At least, not to him.

It takes you a moment to realise you're at the front of the line. You pay for the tickets before Eddie can try it, and with his hands full he can't really stop you. He whines about it all the way to the concession stand.

"You can buy the snacks," you say. His face lights up, and you amend, "If you're reasonable."

"I'm always reasonable…ly over the top," he says, chided by your hard stare.

"Yes, you are."

He follows you down the two steps to the concession and cuts in front of you. "How did you do that? What face was that? I felt my soul leave my body."

"That's my disapproving mom look. I'm disapproving."

"Ah." He pats Junie's side sympathetically.

She pulls her head from over his shoulder and smiles at you. Her arms vy for your hold. You steal her from Eddie and kiss her all over her tiny face, uplifted by how much she loves you, how happy she is to be in your arms.

"What snacks do you want? Do you eat popcorn with butter? Without?" Eddie asks, his newly emptied arms already posed thoughtfully, a hand under his chin as he thinks over his options.

The theatre has a huge array of jellies, an even bigger array of candy bars. There are more brands of soda than there are glasses in your kitchen cabinet.

You're daunted.

"Whatever you want," you say.

Eddie groans and tips his head back. "Don't play with me like this. Butter or no butter? It's an easy question."

"I don't know. Without?"

"You are so weird," he says happily.

You pout and pull Junie closer.

Standing at the side while he gathers concessions, too many things, you watch in awe as Eddie stacks it all against his chest with the sure confidence of someone who's done it before.

He grins at you from between two huge cups. "Are we ready?"

If you could, you'd leave him here in the foyer with his jumbo deluxe popcorn. As it stands, you like him too much to leave him behind. You juggle Junie and your bag to push open the doors for him outside of screen two.

"Thanks, babe," he says outside of screen two. You bite your lip, surprised by his easy tone.

You climb up the stairs and into your seats. You're high enough for Junie to sit in her own chair between you and Eddie and see the screen comfortably but she adamantly refuses, stretching out in your lap like an alley cat hungry for affection.

Eddie moves into the ragtag velvet seat beside you, a million things in his lap and at your feet. He's pretty enough under the theatre lights to dull the panging ache at the back of your head. "If she won't sit here, I will. I got you a lemonade, is that cool?"

If it weren't you'd hardly tell him.

"She's being extremely well-behaved," Eddie notes, an inkling of pride in his tone.

You could sucker punch him. Why does he do this to you?

"I know," you say with a shy smile, "it's suspicious, isn't it?"

"I don't know. If I were in your lap I might be well-behaved too." He raises his eyebrows, an over-exaggerated show of flirtatiousness.

You reach over the arm to take a handful of popcorn. Eyes on Junie, you offer her your stolen goods and say, "I've got two thighs."

"Don't tempt me."

Junie all but snatches the popcorn and tilts her head back. A kernel falls from her hand and disappears between the seats. You make a mental note to pick it up afterward, ears full of her chomping.

You'd worried she might be a little loud for the movies but there's a bunch of kids and none seem keen on keeping quiet, a cacophony of childish complaints to hide your conversation.

"Are babies supposed to eat popcorn?"

You freeze up. "Oh- I don't know," you say, turning Junie toward you so you can watch her swallow.

"I thought I read that somewhere, but-"

"No, I think you're right. Um…" Junie looks at you with obvious confusion. "Was that yummy?" you ask. You hide your concern with a strained bubbly attentiveness.

"I guess she's old enough."

Eddie's being very casual – it is casual. He's just thinking out loud. You know he's not criticising you. He never has, though sometimes you think he should.

It must show on your face anyhow that you're having a 'I'm a bad mom' crisis. A mean stroke of insecurity.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says suddenly, brows pinched, "it's alright. It was just a thought. And she had no problem eating it, I'm sure she's gonna be aces. Better than aces."

Junie climbs out of your lap and into his. He sets the popcorn on the floor to take her, and when her hands reach for his drink he holds the straw to her mouth. All the while his eyes move between her and you.

"Okay," you say, because you're being silly.

Junie is fine. Eddie was only saying something that's very well true. Babies aren't supposed to have popcorn, but June's not a baby, really. She knows how to chew properly. It's unlikely she'll choke.

Eddie has to keep his focus on her to avoid getting soaked – she barely knows how to use a straw and keeps trying to turn the cup upside down.

"Not like that, trouble. Right way up. You got it."

You pick at the loose stitching at the end of your shirt and have to change the subject before the embarrassment of it all swallows you. Such a small thing.

"Can I try one of these?" you ask, grabbing the first bag of candy you can find. They're a bag of Super Sour Suckers.

He looks at you over Junie's head, startled and hiding it poorly. Then, a smile so bright it increases the embarrassment you're feeling tenfold.

"You have to! Robin said they're even worse than the normal ones, I don't wanna go through that alone," he says urgently.

Robin is one of his friends. You're not jealous that he has friends (though you are, because you want your own, but not jealous that he has friends that aren't you). He's mentioned her in passing before. When you'd asked as bravely as you dared if they were anything more than friends he'd laughed maniacally.

"We're definitely just friends," he'd said.

You fight to stay smiling and pull open the bag of candies. Ironically, the jellies inside are shaped like pacifiers. Covered in sugar packed densely and looking almost wet with what you suspect to be citric acid, you shake the packet wearily and search for a candy that won't ruin your tongue.

Eddie holds out his hand. You drop a green one into his palm. Your fingertips ride up the curve of his thumb.

He's unflinching as he eats it. After a few seconds his eyes screw up and he clutches June tight to his chest, raising an unhelpful hand to his jaw.

"Holy sugar," he says, wincing.

You bite into a pink pacifier unfortunately layered in sugar and wait nervously for the sourness to kick in. Sure enough, it comes quick and torturous. It's a knife cutting through fog.

It's hard to feel tired when there's something this sour in your mouth.

"You can't spit it out!" Eddie says.

You stop with your hand halfway to your mouth. "What?" you ask incredulously, trying not to dribble.

"You gotta eat it! Chew and swallow!"

You chew miserably. He laughs at your expression – a warm and hyper sound, practically giggling. Junie joins in as she always does. His joy can't be overstated.

The lights go down while you're still fighting for your life. Your eyes water and you have to smother the taste with a quick drink and a gasping breath.

"You're sick. I can't believe you let me eat that," you whisper.

"You saw me eat mine! You knew what you were getting into… Think June wants one?"

Your outrage has him laughing again. It's a magnetic sound. Every time he does it you want to touch him, his arm one pole and your hand another.

Junie gets comfortable on his right leg, head tipped expectantly against his chest and eyes drawn to the screen as the trailers begin. You don't bother with jealousy; in ten minutes she'll be climbing over the arm to sit with you again, or want to sit in her own seat. She may even try to walk around. Toddlers are indecisive and easily distracted.

Even if she weren't. Even if she sat there in his lap for the next hour and a half and didn't look your way, you're not sure you could harbour any envy against him. His hand spreads over the front of her torso with fingers splayed against her ribs, stroking thoughtlessly through the fabric of her thick clothes.

He tips his head toward your chair. "There's nachos."

"I saw."

"Wanna eat some before they get cold?"

"Subtle."

He snorts. "Yep. That's what they call me. Eddie Subtle Munson."

You reach over the dark floor for the tray of nachos and balance them carefully on the armrest between your two seats. Eddie digs in without fuss, you fret over which ones have jalapeños on them, and Junie gets mad that nobody's sharing with her. She puts her hands straight in a mound of orange cheese. Her face is a picture when she brings it to her mouth. She's discovered molten gold.

"Junie," Eddie says lightly, carding hair away from her ear so she can hear him properly. "Don't get cheese on your pretty clothes. It took your mom a week to get the rocky road out of your strawberry jammies, you know?"

He doesn't care that she's mauled the food. He's worried she might stain her dungarees. Your heart goes crazy, another sudden surge of clarity.

Junie climbs back into your own lap as the movie begins. You whisper to her about proper theatre etiquette in your mommy voice and she doesn't do too bad a job at listening. She finds the appearance of the Great Mouse Detective himself quite funny, and laughs at his grave features and expressions every now and then. It's a golden sound.

Try as you might, you can't keep your eyes open. Junie's having such a good time and Eddie whispers funny commentary beside you, but eventually your eyelids creep shut and Eddie squeezes your arm, skin braceleted by his thick, warm fingers.

"C'mere," Eddie prompts, hands vying for your daughter where she's perched in your lap.

"Why?" Junie asks.

He's surprised at her inquisition. "You don't want a hug?"

She nods voraciously. Eddie lifts her off of your lap before she can use you as a climbing frame and into his own.

"I think mommy's sleeping," he tells her.

Junie looks at you curiously. You've got a wet wipe in your limp hand, which he takes and discards, and your head's fallen to one side. You'll have an awesome crick in your neck when you wake up.

Junie gives him a hug. He loves her hugs. They're so small and sweet, she's genuinely an extremely loving little girl. Her smile when she hugs people is beautiful as yours is, though her affection is less hesitant.

Everything's going well until she catches a look at the huge, scary bad guy Professor Ratigan somewhere in the middle.

Eddie's crunching through a greedy mouthful of popcorn and almost chokes as she turns around and hides in his chest. He brings a hand up to her back protectively though he doesn't know what happened, eyes moving between her and the screen at lightning speed.

"Aw, June," he murmurs sympathetically. He really is a scary looking guy.

"Eddie," she says, dangerously close to tears.

"Sweetheart, it's okay! He's only on TV."

She says something that might be, "Don't want." It's not quite there but Eddie thinks she's doing a great job lately with her talking, patting her back in a silent well done as he attempts to reassure her. "Basil's gonna outsmart him, Junie. The Great Mouse Detective is gonna save the day, scout's honour."

"No," she whines softly.

He covers her unhappy face with his hand.

"It's okay," he murmurs, melted and bemused. "It's okay, junebug. I swear."

Despite his best efforts, she starts to cry. Eddie freezes up because she doesn't cry often, not with him. When she does you're always there to find a solution. He supposes the novelty of being a new person has long worn off, and that he's going to have to make more of an effort than just tickling her or petting her hair to make it better.

Her volume increases. He shushes her, clumsy and awkward but earnest, trying the best that he can to make it up. He offers candies and drinks, he rummages through your baby bag for Mr. Bear. She takes it all but none of it lasts.

Someone in the chair behind him coughs pointedly.

Eddie turns to wake you up. He gets one good look at your face and can't follow through.

You're sleeping deeply, at the movie theatre of all places. How tired are you, and why hadn't you said? He'd known to some extent — it's why he'd offered to drive — but with the movie blaring and all the kids and noise and now Junie's crying, he realises you must be exhausted to sleep through it. Why hadn't he noticed? He kicks himself.

He lifts her up with his head angled down, giving your shoulder a swift squeeze and then bumping down the steps with Junie until he's out into the lights of the hallway. The door swings closed.

It's oddly quiet and extremely bright. Junie stops crying to blink, and starts to cry again once she's adjusted.

Eddie does not know what to do. It's a kick to his ego that he quickly accepts, though he does murmur a rueful, "Babe, I thought you liked me."

Lost on deaf ears, his comment hangs in the air.

He pats her back some more, wracking his brain for how you take care of her when she gets like this. Mostly, you're patient. You hum and you wait. Eddie tries to emulate you and your kind heart, walking her up and down the hall as he taps the bottom of her spine.

"It's okay," he repeats. The more he says it the easier it feels. It is okay. He has to find a way to help June understand that, is all.

She grizzles. It's a long process. A couple of times he wonders if he's in over his head, if it's even his place, if he should wake you up and admit defeat.

But Eddie Munson is trying to prove something.

He works Mr. Bear out of Junie's iron grip and pinches his back taut so that his face and arms wiggle when he wants them to.

"Baby June," he begins, in as gruff a voice as he can manage. He tries to channel his uncle's sternness, and his fondness. "Won't you quit crying? You're getting tears on the neck of your t-shirt and all over your cheeks."

Junie quietens. She still cries, but the severity of the situation noticeably shifts.

Eddie keeps on. "I got just the thing," he says, pushing Mr. Bear forward and making smacking sounds as he kisses both of her cheeks. "Gotta kiss these tears right off a'you."

She laughs as Mr. Bear kisses her face dry and laughs some more when Eddie kisses the top of her head.

Eddie loves Junie.

He knows it for a fact.

She's very easy to love. She's beautiful as you are, she's loving, she's sweet. Her laugh is adorable and her smile is more. When she cries, Eddie finds he's never annoyed. Grated by the repetitive sound, maybe, but he can't find it in himself to be mad with her ever. He wants to help her work through it. To get you both through it. Eddie wants to be good at this.

He has Mr. Bear kiss Junie all over her face.

"See?" Mr. Bear asks. "Isn't that better? No more tears, little girl, or we'll never see the end of the movie!"

As Eddie says it, he wonders if taking her back into the theatre is a good idea.

"Hey, junebug?" he says, all drama set aside.

Junie lifts her flushed face.

He smiles gratefully. "Do you wanna go back inside? Go check on mommy?" Leaving you by yourself doesn't exactly sit right with him.

Ah, there's the face he was expecting. Puzzlement, surprise. Junie frowns at him and looks over his shoulder, her own, searching the empty hallway for you and finding only reflective floor lights and patterned carpet.

Eddie starts back into the screen room before she can cry over your being missing, chatting quietly but in a way that commands her attention. He's effective in the art of distraction if nothing else.

The mouse detective and his friends have defeated Professor Ratigan, though Eddie shields Junie's head from the screen in case he's thinking about making a comeback, finding his way back to you in the dark. He picks over other people's snacks and then the abundance of your own, finding you still sound asleep. The sight doesn't spell good tidings.

"Here she is," Eddie tells Junie, "here's mom. You wanna give her a kiss?"

He sits down in his seat and squishes a bag of gummy worms under his boot. Junie immediately bends over the armrest and grabs at your front. You'd worried to him once that she had separation anxiety, and Eddie didn't know anything about it to agree or not. This display makes him think she might. She's clinging to you, desperately wanting your attention.

Eddie winces as she grabs your face. She's obviously not trying to be cruel, hand stroking over your cheek as you'd stroke hers.

"Mom," she whispers, the action itself enough to get Eddie laughing. Her version of whispering is almost like a character in a pantomime.

He doesn't laugh for very long. You're not easy to wake up. Junie squishes your cheek and tries again. "Mommy," she says.

You groan in your sleep and your eyes scrunch together. "What?" you murmur finally, voice scratchy.

"You're missing the movie," Eddie says, patting your thigh.

Your arms come to life before you do. You wrap them around Junie's short torso and encourage her up your chest until you can nose at the top of her head. You rub slow lines, a steady back and forth. Eddie would bet money you don't have a clue in the world where you are.

"S'loud," you complain. Your voice is weak with sleep.

Junie looks at Eddie weirdly. He suspects it's her way of asking him to help out without asking.

He tenses his hand where it rests at your thigh. "Do you wanna go home?"

You don't answer. You go limp under his touch and Junie's weight, nose and lips set in a frown but otherwise near languid.

Eddie's small (and alarmingly ever-present) worry for you multiplies by a hundred.

He grabs up a bag of chips and entices your daughter back onto his thigh. She digs through half the bag as the movie draws to a finish, distracted if not happy, her face and fingers swiftly flaked in corn dust. The lights are thrown up and the noise is immense, a hundred pairs of shoes over tipped popcorn, babies and young kids unsettled, their parents eager to head home and watch their own movies no doubt.

Eddie can't say he'd really watched the film besides precursory glances, his focus on you and your fidgety offspring. He'd been excited to tell you about his Junie success, but now he just wants to get you home.

He says your name as clearly as he can, his hand finding its way to your thigh for the third time. He rubs down toward your knee and gives your leg a shake.

Junie climbs off of his own. Now the lights are on she can see the grand assortment of snacks laid out before her, and she seems eager to try them all.

You eventually, thankfully rouse, you drag a palm over your eyes and cross your legs, squishing his hand in the process. He steals it back.

"Babe, you gotta get up. The attendants are looking at us funny. I think they think I've run you ragged, and while the dad tag doesn't bother me, 'cruel husband' doesn't suit me."

"What?" you ask.

He shrugs. "Junie pissed her pants."

Your eyes open, lashes parting clumsily. You move like the air around you has turned to glue and moan in a quiet display of agony as your neck clicks. "She leaked through?"

"Nah, I'm messing with you. Movie's done. Getting some weird stares."

You're quiet, but you shrug on your jacket and Eddie packs what he can of the leftover candy into your bag. He swings it over his shoulder.

"You wanna come up?" he asks Junie.

She raises both arms.

You stand on shaky legs. Eddie stations Junie on one hip with one arm wrapped around her and holds out the other. You let him fold you up into his side.

"You okay?" he asks.

Your face drops into his shoulder. "I'm so tired."

"You're alright to walk out to the car?"

His worry is like a rubber band. You snap to attention, disengage from his hold. It's a foreign and really uncomfortable feeling to see you out of sorts.

Eddie walks behind you with a hand nearly but not touching your back. If you topple, he's not sure how he's gonna save you. Determined anyways, he guards you down the hollow stairs and through the hallway, one step behind you.

It's a cool, crisp night outside.

The smell of rain sticks around. You lift your chin. It's much colder now that night's fallen. The breeze kisses your damp skin. When did you start sweating?

He presses his hand to your shoulders and guides you across the road.

Junie starts her lovely babbling in his ear. "Mouse 'tective," she says at one point. You don't react, affirming his theory: you're more than tired. You're sick.

"Mouse detective," he agrees, arm around your shoulder to assuage his own worries as he gives Junie the best of his attention. "You liked that one, huh?" Besides the evil Professor. "Better than the Muppets in New York? Junebug, you little traitor. How easily your favour changes."

"Are you surprised? She took to you like," — you yawn wide enough that Eddie feels it under his arm, a full body thing — "a duck to water."

He beams, relieved to hear your voice. "Yeah, well, I'm special."

"That's true."

Eddie walks you around to the passenger side and opens your door.

"Flirting! Awesome. You're not too sick to forget how much of a catch I am. Watch your head."

"I gotta do Junie's straps," you say.

"I think I can do it by now."

He's only sort of bluffing. It takes him much longer than it would've taken you. He celebrates his win by pinching her cheek lightly and then whacking his head hard on the roof of your car.

"Fuck," he mutters as he jogs around the hood, scrubbing at the back of his head.

You're staring at him as he opens the door.

He puts the baby bag in your lap and shoves the key in the ignition, trying not to buckle under the weight of your gaze. He cracks quicker than he should, hand paused in its action.

"What?"

"You tryna give yourself a concussion?"

"Kiss it better?"

You kiss the tip of your finger and touch it to his head. It's an instant healing potion.

Getting you both home is easy enough, it's the trying to leave that's hard. You collapse heavily into the couch, Junie drapes herself over your lap and begs for her clothes to be taken off. Your second wind has worn away to nothing, leaving you plainly exhausted.

Eddie can't go home, not until he knows you're alright.

He slinks into your bedroom and tries not to look around too much. It feels like an invasion of privacy despite having made it in here a couple of times, always with his hip to the door as you search for something. He fails spectacularly and straight away, always hungry to know more about you. These days especially.

Your bed looks like you shook out the duvet but never tucked the corners. Your pillow's on the floor, your thin throw blanket is screwed up in a ball. There's a bunch of Junie's stuffies against the headboard. He grins at their straight backs.

He makes for your wardrobe, a cheap bit of cherry wood with one sagging door. As much as he wants to outfit Junie in her goodwill band t-shirt, he pulls a soft pair of cotton pyjamas out from a neatly folded stack, thumbing the blue fabric fondly. There's a noticeable disparity between her clothes and yours. One work skirt and one work shirt hang from two lonely hangers, accompanied only by your infamous 'best jeans'. He frowns at a small stain at the knee and scratches it fruitlessly. Not her best jeans, he thinks in horror, picturing your unhappy face. He can see it so clearly, the pinching of your brows.

Junie squeals happily from the living room. Eddie remembers himself and follows the sound, finding you both on the ground. You're kneeling, blowing raspberries into Junie's naked stomach where she lays on her changing mat, a discarded diaper and her dirty clothes to the side.

There's a big break between raspberries where your eyes drift shut sluggishly. Junie whines for another.

Eddie sits next to you. Stupidly close, his crossed leg kisses your thigh. He could wrap you up in a hug easily right here, and he wants to. Your tired face has his stomach aching with guilt.

"Sweetheart," he says to you firmly, "get back on the couch. You look like you're gonna fall asleep right here."

You don't argue, leaving Eddie the impossible duty of dressing your baby. Junie hates the shirt more than he can describe, loathes the fabric as it covers her face. He has to pick her up to get her into her pants, another fury. She forgives him easily once he's done, lingering by his side with Mr. Bear in hand. She pinches his back and imitates Eddie's low growl, laughing at herself as she does. She finds it very funny. Eddie can't help giggling with her.

"Eddie?" you ask.

He turns. You look miserable.

"What?" he asks softly, startled by your intense expression.

"Thank you."

"Oh, baby," he says, loud and brash as he twists where he is to grab both of your knees. He practically throws himself at you, at your feet, ducking his cheek to your leg. "You really are sick as a dog."

You look visibly embarrassed.

"Listen," he says, insistent, "If we start saying thank you to each other, we won't stop. We'll be a loop of thank yous."

"I think I have more to say than you do," you murmur.

He shakes his head, exasperated at your inability to see him for what he is even now. It's funny. Eddie thinks you've a better view of him than anybody else, that you see him more generously than anyone has ever seen him, and you still haven't noticed he's a boy in love.

You must feel his grin as he kisses your knee, his thumb stroking over the ridge of the cap.

"If I started to say thanks for all the things you've given me I wouldn't stop. I'd talk myself hoarse," Eddie argues.

You laugh at his dungeon master dramatics, but reaffirm, "I haven't given you anything."

"You don't know what you've given me," he says into your leg.

Eddie lifts his head, weary of his chin digging into your leg.

Now isn't the best time to declare devotion, or drop kisses into you when you can't offer any in return. Not that he's expecting you to. Not that he wouldn't receive them gratefully.

"I should go home."

You reach for him. Your hand moves slowly like you've a weight around your wrist, but your fingertips curve over his cheek; you move from the corner of his lip, under his eye, and then finish your circle at the skin beneath his ear.

"Can you hug me?" you ask.

"Yeah," Eddie says. He doesn't waste any time.

He gets up, slides a knee between your knees and rests his full weight on the couch between them as his arms curve around you and his hands feel for the dip of your lower back. He clutches without any hesitation.

"Can I? Did you mean it like that? My arms work fine."

You curl your arms around him and groan. "You're gonna crush me."

"Really?" He pulls you closer. "How 'bout now?"

"Ow," you whine.

He laughs and pushes his face toward your ear. "Liar," he whispers. "No way that hurts."

"Why's everybody always on top of me?"

"That's your issue?" He pulls back. "You want to sit in my lap?"

"No!"

"Aw, my poor girl. You totally wanna sit in my lap. Alright, get in it."

He sits down beside you and waits, one arm still behind your back. He gives you an encouraging tug.

"I'm not sitting in your lap."

"I didn't think you would, just- Just c'mere," he prompts, pulling your face into his chest.

Your arms slide around his waist. He can feel the scratchy skin on your left index finger, a scar of a recent kitchen accident, against his hip where his shirt has ridden.

"You're really handsy. Has anyone told you that before?" Eddie asks, trying to cover the entirety of your back with his arms alone.

You push your face as far as it'll go into his chest. Eddie keeps you there, and soon a little body has found its way onto the couch next to you both, demanding to be included. Eddie quickly drags her in.

Long minutes of quiet hugs.

"Wish we could stay like this forever," you murmur.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. If you were worried."

He massages over the slope of your shoulder, a tight looking muscle. You sigh inaudibly, a hot patch over his heart.

"I wasn't," you say.

Eddie thinks you might finally be on the same page.

You get really, really sick.

"On my days off!" you croak, the injustice too much to handle.

Eddie laughs from the end of your bed, a bandana tied around his face like a doctor from one of his awful horror movies, though the bandana is far from a clinical white. "That's exactly why you're still sick. Your body sensed the weekend."

Hadn't it? You'd been achy and awful on Friday and Benny had sent you home at lunch, citing a need to keep his patrons from infection. Which sucked, because you'd really wanted to stick around for the very beginning of the Friday night rush and get some payday tips. People are generous when they're high on the buzz of a forthcoming weekend, especially to over obsequious waitresses.

It had sucked worse when Junie came out of daycare in the best mood ever and demanded kisses. You'd had a headache the size of a tennis ball behind your eyes and didn't want to pass anything over, and the crushed look on her face had made you cry in the car on the way home.

Eddie dropped in particularly early that night with soup. "I had a feeling," he'd said.

And now here he is again the day after.

"At least one of us is enjoying this," you say.

"You think I'm enjoying this?" Eddie asks.

You give his precautionary outfit a once over. "Yes."

"This is just something I had lying around."

"Shut up! Shut up, no it wasn't!" You're voice cracks, giggly and giddy even with the spikes of pain to your tender head.

"It was. We did a campaign, I was a plague doctor-"

"That is in terrible taste."

"It was perfectly appropriate, thank you very much. You're determined to vilify me. Need to slow down with the cold medicine, I think."

You shriek as he tries to take the bottle. "No! No, please, my throat hurts."

He takes the bottle. It is a hurtful defeat. You curl your fingers around nothing and sulk, slouching down into a sanctuary of pillows and blankets to hide from him. Extra pillows provided by Eddie. With fresh covers, duh. They smell like him anyway. You turn your nose into it indulgently.

"You've had too much to safely be responsible for any further consumption."

"Further consumption," you echo, eyes closing in defeat as he leaves.

"You okay, June?" you hear him ask, voice occluded partially by the sound of the TV.

"Okay, Eddie?" she asks.

You grin to yourself.

"I'm great. This looks very fun. I'm gonna make mom a cold pack for her head and then you can help me make dinner, okay? Does that sound fun? Tell me, June."

The 'Tell me, June,' isn't a command so much as a gentle reminder that she can answer the question if she wants to.

"Fun," she says.

"Hey, great. Oh, thank you. Thank you."

They better not be cuddling without me, you think bitterly, grin swiftly replaced by a self-pitying frown.

You cough into your hand, roil in your own misery for a second and then grab the big glass of water Eddie had insisted on from the night stand. You tip it down yourself in your hurry.

"Missed your mouth," Eddie says, appearing at exactly the wrong moment.

"Don't baby me."

He pads into the room with a cold pack wrapped in a hand towel. "For your head."

"This is silly. I don't need to be in bed."

"Obviously you do. You're sick, did you notice? Stupid question," he adds regretfully, gesturing for you to lie back. He sets the pack to your forehead. "You wouldn't notice a hole in your stomach. You'd be dripping entrails in the freezer aisle wondering if Junie wants corn on the cob or mashed potato with dinner tonight."

"What does she want for dinner tonight?"

"Boo! Exactly my point."

"I'm gonna go ask her-"

Eddie puts an unapologetic hand in the middle of your chest and pushes down. "You will do no such thing." He lowers his face to yours. "I'm willing to get physical. So behave."

You flush with heat because you're sick and not because he says it a certain way, dropping back down into your fluffed pillows without another word.

Eddie's hand climbs up to your collar, your neck. His fingers slide one after another behind it. It's a blessed cold. You can't find a comfortable temperature today, moving between chills and hot flashes at the drop of a hat.

Or a bandana. Eddie unties the dark fabric from his neck and leaves it where it lands, staring at you without saying anything.

His thumb presses into your sore throat carefully, the barest hint of pressure, and his lips part. He doesn't say anything for a while. It looks like he wants to.

"Do me a favour?" he asks finally.

"Of course." Anything to feel useful right now.

"Take it easy." He again lowers his head, talking to you with a private smile. "The sooner you chill out, the sooner you'll beat this thing."

"Don't say that. Like I have something serious."

"The sooner you'll beat this moderate-"

"Mild-"

"-affliction." He strokes quarter-circles into your neck.

"I don't need to lie down. There's things I have to do."

"On a Saturday?"

"Yes. There's things I need to do everyday." You clear your throat. It's useless, the lump remains and your voice stays scratchy. "I have- I always have laundry. So that first. Gotta wash it and put it out and bring it in and press it. I gotta make sure Junie has lunch for daycare this week 'n if she doesn't I have to go get it, I gotta," — you cover his hand with your own thoughtlessly — "make sure her rash is getting better. And I promised we'd do a tea party tomorrow, I have to make sandwiches!"

"We both know she doesn't remember the tea party."

"I promised."

"And if I… If I tried to get all those things done, would you stay in bed?"

"You can't."

"But if I tried it? I can do laundry. I'm good at it. Get oil stains out of Wayne's coveralls every Sunday."

You slump into a lump of sadness and achy arms. "Don't do my laundry. Don't do any of that stuff. I'll punch you if you do."

Eddie bursts into laughter. "You'll punch me? You horrible woman."

"I will," you promise, fingers curling around his arm to hold him in place.

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I don't know. 'Cos you're a know-it-all who dislikes me."

"I far from dislike you." He grins at you, all dimpled and pretty. "I don't believe you'd hit me because I know you, idiot."

"Name-calling."

"Uh-huh. Are you sleeping or am I helping you out onto the couch?"

While you're happy for the compromise, you have one problem. "I don't think I can move."

Eddie lets his face fall amicably to your collar. "No, I bet you can't. More reason for me to get you on the couch. I think you've genuinely had too much cough syrup," he worries, warm breath fanning over your skin.

You bring your spare hand to his head. He has so many curls.

He lifts his head and you're close enough to kiss. There's no other reason anyone has ever been this close.

"I can see your beauty mark," you say, hushed. You don't wanna breathe on him too much.

"Freckle."

"Your freckle." You lift and drop his curls, fingers toying through the softness towards his roots, the frizz at the ends.

"You- You smell like fucking cherry syrup."

You abandon his hair to clap a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry."

He covers his own mouth. "It's okay," he says, similarly muffled. "I like the sweet stuff."

What the fuck does that mean? Your stomach doesn't flip — it leaps right up into your throat. "You're an idiot," you breathe, caught off guard.

"What was that?" he asks, taking away his hand. "Didn't catch it."

"I said, 'You're an-"

"Amazing friend and confidante?"

You try to talk and he says, "A real stand-up guy?"

You try again and he says, "A total rockstar? Baby, if you really think all this you should've said."

You flop completely onto your back, away from his hands, his jokes and his lovely brown eyes where they bore into your own. Eddie hums and rubs brashly over the top of your arm until the skin glows with heat.

"Please stay in bed," Eddie says as he stands.

Medicine or his touch, you're feeling pretty tired. You pull up your blankets and sink like a stone, head disappearing into a mess of pillows and throws.

It's much later when you wake. You move into the land of the living abrupt as whiplash.

Eddie seems very sorry. "Sweetheart, June's past due for a new diaper, and I-"

"Oh, right," you say, sounding much more alert than you feel. You're a girl made of sandpaper.

"I would've, I mean. If it wouldn't make you uncomfortable, I would've tried. But I've never changed a diaper in my life."

You scratch your flaky eyes, disorientated and head like a boiling saucepan with the lid glued on.

"That's okay," you say. Your voice refuses to cooperate with you, gruff and too quiet. "It wouldn't bother me, but it's also not your job, so… Um." You yawn wide and cover your entire face.

You spend a minute rubbing your eyes.

"Fuck, what time's it?" you ask, squinting at him and bringing your hands to either side of your face.

"Like, seven. Ish."

"Eddie…"

"I know. I thought you could use the rest. I knew you could. And it's not urgent, you know? Come around, first. Everything's stellar."

You peel back the sheets. You're a clammy, too-hot mess with weak legs.

Eddie sees you wobble and rushes to wrap an arm around your waist. Completely unnecessarily, heart-achingly kind. You wince at the dampness of your shirt under his touch.

Junie sits on the couch in her jammies with a yellow-green soup stain down the front. She's propped up like a princess, a pillow behind her head between the armrest and her blanket covering her legs, cheek pressed to the cushions. Eyes trained on the TV and her bottle propped in a slackening grip, your baby is peaceful, near luxurious.

Only a little wiggle might suggest she's uncomfortable.

You part from Eddie's side and sit down beside her, the seat warm. She doesn't even look up.

"What, no hi for mom?" you ask tenderly, hand falling to the top of her head. She's lovely.

She gasps, little lungs fit to burst. It's pure excitement, her bottle dislodged and the blanket pushed away immediately. She doesn't bother getting to her feet, throwing herself into your lap and assuming you'll do the rest. Of course you will. You pull her up and kiss the top of her head, though you quickly hold her at arm's length.

"Sorry, mommy's still sick," you tell her, sympathetic at her crushed expression.

"Mis'd," she says.

"Yeah? You missed me?" you ask hopefully.

Her lips part in comprehension. "Missed you," she confirms.

You throw your gaze over your shoulder to Eddie. He stands by Junie's changing station with a smug smile. "What?"

"You're not very convincing."

"I'm not trying to convince you, thanks," he says, holding up two hands in surrender.

"She didn't learn that herself," you argue.

"She might've. You tell her enough."

You go back to your girl, pleased at her own smug smile. "I missed you, too, I missed you so much. Missed you millions. Sorry I've been sleeping all day, you've been such a good girl. She has, hasn't she?"

Eddie sorts through a nearly empty bag of diapers and brandishes one with fish printed on the back. "Oh, yeah. Junebug's been amazing. She came in with me to see you earlier, took your temperature." You frown. "From a distance. Kind of. I held her above you. It was… acrobatic."

You close your eyes at his absurdity, your laugh prompting another spike of pain.

Junie forces herself closer and gets both arms around your neck.

You sag into the contact, defeated. "Aw, June," you mumble ruefully. "M'trying to make sure you don't get sick too. Wasting my time."

"Mommy," she says into your neck.

"That's me."

You know she has something she wants to say. You can't wait for the days where she can. Exciting, to think that one day she'll be able to share all of her thoughts.

Right now, she's probably thinking, Woah, mom, you smell weird. And you look weirder.

You feel her back with your hand and cringe. Definitely time to get her changed.

Afterward, you sit with your back to the open front door on one of the porch steps. Physical exertion of any kind seems to be inadvisable; you're sweating up a storm. Junie sits beside you at her own insistence, her hand clasped in your hand and her head on your arm. You look down at her thighs next to your own and marvel at their small size. The evening breeze is a blessing.

Eddie stands in front of you with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a checklist.

"Tea party sandwiches are badly made and saran wrapped in the fridge. Junie doesn't have lunch for Monday but I can go tomorrow if you want me to. Her clothes are folded in the hamper. Uh, some stuff got left out, you might need to press them. Not tonight though, please."

"Thank you."

He talks around a smile. "Soup's on the stove. I'll come back later, if-"

"You don't have to."

"I want to. I wouldn't actually leave, but-"

"Eddie-" You cough into your shoulder. He waits for you to finish. "You- You didn't have to take care of me."

"What does that mean? Of course I did."

He hikes his backpack higher up his shoulder and pads back up the steps, not all of them but enough for him to lean down and stare at Junie.

"Thanks for the best day ever," he says seriously, looking out of the corner of his eye at you. "Almost. See you later?"

Junie nods voraciously and reaches up with her empty hand. Eddie takes it and kisses her temple. He does the same to you, lips brushing soft as downy-feather over your skin.

"I'll come back around ten? Is that cool?"

"Don't knock too loudly," you mumble, very aware of his proximity.

He backs up and bows like an idiot, hand moving in circles.

You and Junie wave him off.

"To work?" Junie asks.

Your eyebrows jump as you pull your gaze from his retreating figure. "Huh?"

"To work?"

You play with her fingers. "No, he's not going to work. He's going to take care of someone else, now."

Wayne, Eddie said, in a fondly exasperated tone that explained everything you needed to know. His uncle's self-preservation must come in similar disinterest to himself as yours does to you.

"We'll see him tomorrow," you say. It's not even a lie, you will both see him tomorrow.

But apparently he's coming back tonight.

True to his word, Eddie Munson knocks your door carefully at nearing ten o'clock.

Wayne's dismissal chases his heels. He'd spent an hour worrying about you at the dinner table with his uncle, fingers curling anxiously in his hair.

Wayne had been talking about some gab the boys in the shop had heard about killer mice or killer lice or something when he'd suddenly cleared his throat and snapped Eddie to attention.

"You're a good kid. Notice how I said good, and not smart," Wayne had said.

"Gee, thanks. You always did know how to make a guy feel loved, Wayne."

"You don't wanna be here."

Eddie had frowned. "Obviously I do."

"Kid, what I mean is, you gotta," — he'd nodded his head hard to one side and raised his eyebrows — "you know."

"Haven't brushed up on my mysterious gestures lately. Translate that one for me?"

Wayne had flicked up his newspaper and sighed. "Don't be dumb."

"You keep saying that."

"You keep being dumb, boy."

"I don't know what you want me to do."

"Think you better go look after your girl, don't you?" Wayne had asked finally, clearing his throat.

So here he is to look after you. A tad early, worried you'll be sleeping on the couch with a misbehaving baby in your lap or passed out in the bathroom after an impromptu cleaning.

Thankfully, you open the door in different clothes than he'd left you in, the neckline dark with run-off and face damp under your eyes and by your ears. You dab at your tacky skin with your index knuckle.

"You look better," he says. He wishes he could take it back instantly, though you don't take any offence.

"Hot shower," you explain.

You step back to let him in. Eddie closes the door behind him without turning, eyes glued to your fresh face. He's depressed by the lingering fatigue he finds lining your darling features.

"You okay?" you ask him, perturbed by his silence.

Eddie's better than okay.

He steps close. You look like you might step back, make room for him he doesn't want, so he reaches out for your face and holds it in one hand, the other landing in tandem on your arm.

Your cheek lists into his hand as he wipes away what's left of the dampness on your face. He's not sure you know you're doing it.

"Did you take any more medicine?" he asks quietly, rubbing under your eye carefully with the tip of his thumb.

"No, I- I think you fixed me, Munson. Me and Junie had your soup, and after a shower I felt way better. It was really nice. She slept easy."

He presses the back of his hand to your forehead. "You don't feel too hot."

"Like I said. Fixed me. My hero."

He looks over your shoulder at your life — at his life, or at least where a majority of it seems to take place. All his favourite parts these days happen right there on your couch, or at that table, or knee to knee with a baby that isn't his but- but-

"You said that to me the first time we met," Eddie recalls, shaking his head. It's like there's water in his ears. A few strands of hair drift into his eyes.

You catch his elbows in both hands. "It feels like a really long time ago now."

Months. Only months. "I feel like I've known you for years."

He strokes over your face, chin to cheek, the tip of his thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth.

"That's how I feel, too," you whisper. Utter. Hushed, your words ring loud anyway. "You're my best friend."

Eddie doesn't take it for a door closing because it isn't. It's a door kicked wide open. Split on its hinges. You and Eddie stand on equal ground, and, for once, the same page.

"You know I don't mind taking care of you?" he asks, hand passing over your ear to hide behind it. He wants to see all of your face.

Predictably, you drop your eyes to his neck, pupils wobbling as you search for somewhere to plant yourself. "I know. I'm not sure I deserve it."

"Why wouldn't you deserve it? Everyone deserves taking care of."

"Even murderers?"

"Maybe not murderers-"

"The evil guys from your game? Necromancers?"

"They're not all evil." His left palm skirts up the curve of your neck, encouraging your face back to his. "Don't change the subject."

You press your lips together, caught.

"I actually…" — he gathers as much bravery as he has — "want to take care of you."

"You do."

He holds your face in both hands. "You know you- You know you started it, right? You know it's- that without your-" He cringes internally at his stammering, but he has to get this part right. "You have gold where your heart should be."

"Y/N The Golden Hearted. Doesn't have the best ring to it," you muse, hands clinging to the crooks of his elbows like twin pooled teardrops waiting to fall.

Eddie stares at you, floored.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" he asks.

"What's your name?" you demand, grinning.

"Eddie the Subtle. Munson the Mad."

You huff a laugh. "That's a cop-out."

"Maybe."

"How about…" The air feels thick as jelly. Light from under the bedroom door stops short of your legs, your toes almost touching. His rubber soles, your socks. "Eddie the Indomitable?"

He crinkles his nose. "I'd almost think you were trying to flirt with me, that's how bad that is."

Your blinks are slow. Your eyes soften.

"What if I was?" you ask.

A stock-still silence pervades, filled only by the hum of the refrigerator and the droning of the bathroom light, left on. He could tell you the contents of this room by its sounds alone.

His hand moves of its own accord, up and down the slope of your neck. "I'd say you needed a better pick up line."

"Like what?" you ask, chest rising too fast.

Eddie takes a step and feels his jacket zipper cut into the cotton of your shirt. It's your matching band t-shirt.

Eddie drags his gaze slowly to your widened eyes, your lashes as they move almost imperceptibly upward. Taking him in as he inches closer.

"You're so fucking pretty," he says.

He leans in. He closes the gap. Eddie Munson takes the leap.

Your hand comes quickly to his upper arm and you turn your face just enough to force his lips, his kiss landing a centimetre shy of your nose.

He struggles to keep his eyes closed. His heart thrums like a blown amp.

"You can't kiss me," you say. Eddie struggles to discern your tone.

His nose presses to yours. Not desperately, but almost. "I can't?" he asks, throat thick with emotion, a stickying, cloying taffy.

"I'll make you sick."

He turns your face with his palm, lips hovering above yours, a hair's width. Close enough to feel their heat.

"Can I trust you'll nurse me back to health, in the event that that happens?" Would you take care of me? His hands tremble where they're touching you. He's too scared to open his eyes.

You don't answer.

You cover his hands and the seconds stretch endlessly, a thousand moments of terror and pining and want suddenly flattened into one as you kiss him.

He exhales against you. His relief is a palpable, viscous thing as he pulls you in and his nose digs into yours. Lips soft as he'd imagined, as he'd known they'd be, you kiss back tentatively. Sweetly.

You're kissing him like he's something that needs a careful touch.

Eddie screws his eyes shut tight enough to see stars, firecrackers, a shattering bouquet of colours as you move beneath him. He can't believe he's kissing you. He can't believe there was a time where he wasn't.

He yields, leaning back just enough to see your face. You keep your eyes shut, your eyelashes kissing the delicate skin beneath. They move like blades of grass in the breeze as Eddie tries to catch his breath, regaining some of his composure. It's hard while he's here, this close.

You make a small sound, a breath like a barb. The shaky demarcation of tears.

"Okay?" he asks, more movement than sound. His lips skip over your own.

You have to feel it.

A laugh bubbles up through your parted lips like a hiccup. "I'm definitely gonna make you sick," you mumble regretfully.

"Make me sick, sweetheart," he says, begs. Whatever.

Whatever word you want to use. He doesn't care if he pays for it afterwards, he wants to be close to you now, unapologetically close. And kissing you — kissing you like this, your reciprocation, it's everything because it means you feel the same as he does.

Or a fraction the same. He's reassured either way. If you felt a fraction of what he felt, that's enough.

It's a lot. To be touching you, finally. He grabs at the nape of your neck and kisses, kisses, kisses. He goes slowly, not quite sweetly. He's never been as sweet as you have, never as soft or patient.

It doesn't feel like it matters.

You pull his hands from your face, press his and your own, all four hands to the collar of your shirt.

"It wasn't just a, uh, pick up line, was it?" you ask breathlessly.

"Wh- No." Eddie massages the back of your hands. "No, you're the fucking prettiest girl ever. I think you're aces. Killer. Everything."

"Everything," you say, an almost indecipherable glassiness to your eyes.

"Everything," he says. He spreads his hand over your heart.

You don't throw yourself at him, but you move alarmingly quickly. Arms over his shoulders, hands crossed and buried in his hair. Your laugh is magic, a bright and exuberant sound loud in his ear and then the skin underneath. He's barely got an arm around the small of your back when you start to kiss him, repetitive, chaste pecks over his pulse. It capers under your lips.

"I don't know what kind of girl you think I am-" He begins deadpan and breaks abruptly, your second wave of laughter impossible to ignore.

Your arms tighten at his laughing, palm cupping the back of his head.

"You're my best friend, too," he says. "But you knew that."

"Maybe," you murmur, your smile wide against his skin. You're uncharacteristically mischievous.

He lets his back bend under your weight until your heels lift and you're scrabbling to stay on your own two feet and is rewarded by your shrieking laughter.

Oh, god, he thinks, ecstatic.

"Wait," you say, bargaining for freedom as he squeezes you hard enough to make you laugh again, and again, "wait, wait! Wait, let go. I have something to tell you."

Eddie sets you down. He's reluctant to let you go, almost desperate to hug you now that he knows he can, but his curiosity gets the better of him. What could you have to tell him now that isn't confessional? It's like being promised something good.

You stand sure and sweet in front of him.

"It's…" You look shyly at his lips.

"What?"

"I…"

He shakes his head gently from side to side. "What? Tell me."

"Nothing," you say, beaming. Act dropped, you take his face into both hands and kiss him soundly.

Eddie's barely got his hands on you before you're pulling back.

"Just wanted to do that," you say.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | this fic is multi-chapter

if you enjoyed (i I really hope you did), please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab reader #mom!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #fem!reader #Single mom!reader #reader insert

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anto-pops · 3 months

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The Archivist - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Weeks after discovering some ancient tomes you're unable to decipher, you reach out to the Ministry of Magic Archives for help decoding the timeworn pages. The last thing you'd expected was for Sebastian Sallow to show up, much less for him to be so... attractive. Had he always looked like that?

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian Sallow pursued a professional career as a book nerd and also happens to be really well versed in sex.

Word Count: 6,969 (LMAO)

Warnings: 18+. aged up characters, explicit sexual content, size difference, Sebastian wearing glasses again

Up on Ao3 here for your viewing pleasure

You honestly didn’t think you’d ever thrown on clothes faster than you did the day someone apparated into your living room with a deafening crack, followed by a crash and a muffled, “Shit, ow.”

If you were to die, you weren’t eager to do so half-naked and half-asleep.

After hastily tying your robe around your waist and stuffing your feet in a pair of deteriorating slippers, you cautiously stuck your head into the hallway, the unruly strands of your bed head sticking to your cheeks and poking you in the eye as you assessed the situation.

At the end of the hall you could see a stack of books scattered across the floor, along with a previously organized collection of newspapers now strewn over the top of a prone body. Said body was stirring beneath the crumpled parchment, and you bit your lip and wished desperately for coffee as you weighed your options.

Option one: it was a murderer and you should leave immediately. The only problem was that the hallway leading to the front door was now blocked. Shit.

Option two: it was a burglar, and if you could remember where you’d left your wand last night, you could petrify the man in place until officials came to your aid.

Option three: it was a murdering burglar, and you might as well attempt to find out as much as you could before you wound up gruesomely cut down so you could at least haunt the bastard.

As the concealed figure attempted to sit up, you heard another thump as something fell from above them, followed by an irate groan, and you gripped the doorway to your bedroom tightly as you managed to call out a meek, “Hello?”

All movement and noises in the living room ceased for a moment, the air still and silent. You swore if the intruder dropped so much as a pin, you would hear it. The pair of feet belonging to the unknown man dragged along the floor as he seemingly stood himself up, and figuring that no burglar would be such a noisy wreck, you took your chances and slowly made your way down the hall to take in the damage done to your living space.

Bizarre as it was to be so civil with someone who’d essentially broken into your home, you rounded the corner and found yourself asking, “Are you alright?”

You were met with your potential adversary as he turned around, and you were equal parts surprised and confused to discover that it was none other than Sebastian Sallow. It had been years since you’d last seen him, the two of you having gone your separate ways after graduation as you continued hunting down ancient magic sites and he pursued a career within the Ministry. The last letter you’d received from him had come in a little over a year ago, sadly informing you that his sister had finally passed, albeit peacefully.

To find him now standing in the midst of your demolished living room was a shock in and of itself.

“Sebastian?” you asked incredulously, your eyes raking down his disheveled but well dressed body. He had certainly grown since you’d last seen him, his long legs accentuated by pressed slacks, and the suspenders that wrapped over his sculpted shoulders left little to the imagination. The button up he wore was just shy of being too small for his broad figure, and when you glanced back up at him, you watched as he brought one of his hands up to his face to fix his crooked glasses.

“Hi,” he said lamely, flashing you a somewhat sheepish smile. “Sorry for the mess– I, uh– well, I think I landed on something when I popped in.”

Your eyes flicked down once more to the toppled stacks of books that now covered the floor, and your brow cocked of its own accord as you breathed out a laugh, “You don’t say.”

Still reeling from the abrupt wake up call, you could only stare dumbstruck as Sebastian fixed his clothing and picked invisible lint off of his shirt, then offered his hand to you. “Sorry about the books. And the, uh, language. I’m here about the old tomes you found?”

As you accepted his outstretched hand and tried not to pass out from the firmness of it, you blinked and attempted to figure out what he was referring to. “Tomes?”

“The ones you wanted looked over?” He let go of your hand to rifle through the small satchel strapped to his thigh, and it took a herculean effort not to drool over the sheer width of his leg. Merlin’s bloody balls… you’d been holed up indoors for too long. “You sent in this consultation request a few weeks ago,” he said, pulling out a small slip of parchment decorated in your familiar scrawl, and then it all started to come back to you.

It had been nearly a month since, but during your last excursion to Scotland, you’d come across a set of unique, fragile tomes buried deep in an ancient magic site there. As curious as you’d been to read through their contents, the text within was hardly legible, and in truth, you weren’t even sure it was written in English. In a bid to still make use of the age-old books, you had reached out to the Ministry of Magic Archives to have someone potentially aid you in deciphering the timeworn pages. After almost a month with no response, you had simply shelved them all and moved on to planning your next trip.

“I completely forgot,” you muttered, taking the paper from Sebastian to read it over. “I kind of gave up hoping that the Ministry would send someone.”

“They weren’t planning on it,” he started to say, sounding conflicted as to whether or not he should continue. “But after I got my hands on the request, I took something of a personal interest in the case.”

Jokingly, you teased, “You hold that much sway working in the Archives?”

“I do when I’m the Archivist.”

“You’re the Archivist?” Your jaw dropped comically fast, your eyes wider than saucers as you processed his statement. Suddenly you were looking at your former friend in a whole new light. In your mind, you had always assumed the Ministry’s Archivist would be… well, ancient. Old and withered, graying and feeble. Not youthful and– quite frankly– hot. “How did that happen?”

Sebastian rocked back on his heels as he stuffed his thumbs in his pockets, the very picture of modesty as he shrugged, “It’s technically my trial period since the old Archivist just died a few months ago. But yeah, I guess my thirst for knowledge and reading habits paid off. At the very least it impressed the Minister enough for him to promote me.”

Eventually you managed to pick your chin up off the floor so you were no longer gaping at him like a fish, and you bashfully tucked a particularly stubborn strand of hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat and said, “Well, congratulations then. Glad to hear you’re doing well for yourself.”

Sebastian stared at you for a long moment before laughing softly under his breath, his hand sweeping through the front of his curly hair, “Thanks. But anyways, I can take a look at those tomes now if you’ve still got them?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. They’re on the shelf by the couch, let me just get changed.”

“No worries,” Sebastian said quickly, grinning widely as he moved around you further into the living room, his eyes roving over you momentarily. “I’ve got this.”

Did he just… check you out? No way, you thought, shaking the idea from your mind entirely.

You tracked the brunet as he strode over to the cluttered shelf beside the sofa, watching intently as he moved a few books around until he found the unmistakable tomes propped against the wooden panels. With the utmost care, Sebastian carefully withdrew one of the three with delicate fingers, his touch featherlight and ever conscious of the fragile nature of the bound piece of foreign literature. As he thoughtfully deposited the book on top of the coffee table, you couldn’t help but admire how gentle he was being with it; with hands that big, you found his tender touch to be something of a contrast to his entire person.

Shamelessly, you also found yourself wondering how those hands of his might feel against your skin.

Beating back your lustful thoughts with a mental brick, you managed to say with an even tone, “I’m surprised you can tell what’s what in that mess of a shelf. I’ve been told I have a bit of a hoarding problem– most people can’t separate the floor from the walls.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” he retorted, flashing you a dazzling smile from over his shoulder. “It takes a bookworm to know one. My old overseer at the Archives used to tell me I ‘had no shelf control’.”

The silence that settled over the room was utterly loud, and as Sebastian’s face took on the hue of a ripe tomato, you were fighting a grin with every fiber of your being. Your lips contorted into something resembling a downward smile while the Archivist-in-training turned back to the bookshelf, dragging a hand down his flushed cheeks as a pained groan weaseled its way out of him. “Please forget I said that. I’ve picked up on one too many library jokes in the past five years.”

Sweet Merlin, he was dorky as hell. Please leave, excessively hot Archivist. Either leave or stay for about six hours and don’t go until I’m ready to let you.

To spare him his dignity and also because you needed to refrain from staring at his attractive backside, you spun on your heel to head into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Please,” he sighed in agreement, sounding all too excited about the change in topic.

“I’ve got tea, coffee, and… water,” you finished pathetically. The barren cupboards above the pantry nearly brought a tear to your eye, and you made a mental note to do some shopping later if you had the time.

Sebastian set the second tome down on the coffee table at the same time he called out to you, “Tea is fine, thank you.”

It took a smidge longer than normal to boil the water, seeing as you had to pause your efforts to find your wand buried beneath the piles of maps in your bedroom. Once you had it in hand, however, you whipped up two steaming cups of black tea and returned to Sebastian minutes later to hand his cup over to him. He took it graciously, plainly eyeing you up over the brim of the mug as he took a tentative sip, and your stomach flipped at the suggestive look he fixed you with.

“I’m a little jealous, you’ve got one hell of a collection here. I almost wish I could take some of these old books off your hands.”

“Mm,” you hummed around a mouthful of tea, swallowing pointedly. Sebastian’s eyebrow twitched minutely. “Well, I think it might be time for me to clean house a bit anyways. If you wanted to, you could always come back and take your pick of what you like.”

His brows rose momentarily before settling, a muscle in his defined jaw ticking as he glanced between you and the tomes on the table. Then with a voice like pure sin, Sebastian smoothly said, “And what if I like more than the books?”

Shit, shit. Redirect. You fought to employ every ounce of self-control in your body so you wouldn’t just jump into his strong arms and straddle him right there, but you were acutely aware of a few facts; you looked like you had fought a Hippogriff in your sleep, you had sorely little on under your robe, and Sebastian's eyes had been devouring the noticeable outline of your collarbone for the last minute or so. Fuck.

“Then it sounds, uh,” you started to say, struggling to form words with the broad shouldered Adonis across from you seemingly undressing you with his eyes. “Like we might be on the same page.” It was the truth– you were as interested in the Archivist as you were in the purpose for his visit– but once the unintentional pun registered, you rolled your eyes and dug the heel of your palm into one eye, swearing softly. To his credit, Sebastian just laughed, taking another hearty sip of his tea as you shyly smiled up at him.

With more work to be done back at the Ministry and your tomes in hand, Sebastian dutifully let you know that while he couldn't stay presently, he would absolutely be coming back later that night. He followed you into the kitchen to deposit his cup beside the sink, intentionally reaching over your shoulder to set the mug down before letting his fingers ghost along the skin of your neck. Goosebumps broke out all over your body at the contact, and when you turned around to face him with the counter pressing against your rear, his hands came to deftly adjust the revealing neckline of your robe with a coy smirk tugging at his lips.

“See you at seven,” he purred, leaving you a blushing mess in your kitchen as he stepped back, winked, then apparated away.

—

By the time seven o’clock rolled around, you had bathed, gone to the market to replenish your sorry excuse of a pantry, tidied up the previously demolished sitting area, and started cooking dinner. Part of you felt like you were getting ahead of yourself with everything, but after spending the entirety of your day reflecting on the stolen glances Sebastian had sent your way and his rather telling comment in the living room, you told yourself it couldn’t get any more obvious than that.

He had always been rather cute during your time at school, but something about seeing him grown and fully matured had ignited a fire in your veins that stubbornly stayed burning for hours.

When he showed up five minutes early at six fifty-five with freshly washed hair and wearing a darker version of his earlier outfit, your doubts all but vanished. Clearly you weren’t the only one itching to make a good impression.

Sebastian followed you into the living room, now noticeably cleaner than it had been earlier in the morning, and held up the bottle of wine he’d been holding at his side. “I know you’ve got tea and water, but uh. I figured why not. It’s Friday after all.”

You smiled softly and let your hands brush against his as you took the wine from him, curiously watching as his fingers flexed when his arm returned to his side. “Thank you. I take it the Archivist doesn’t go to work on the weekends, then?”

“The Archivist in training doesn’t, but I’m sure my free time will be a commodity before long. I’m pretty sure the last one frequently slept under his desk at the Ministry Headquarters. What about you? Any drab desk jobs to speak of?”

“Nope,” you said, gesturing to the couch as you turned to head back into the kitchen. “When I need the extra money I’ll help out Sirona at The Three Broomsticks, but for the most part my explorations and Professor Fig’s estate hold me over well enough. I’m hardly ever home anyways, so it’s not like there’s many expenses to keep track of.”

“I see,” Sebastian huffed as he collapsed into the couch, spreading his long arms along the top of the backrest as he took in the neater state of the living room. “I’m guessing your adventuring is why there’s so many books in the first place. Have you ever thought about upsizing?”

“Hardly,” you set the bottle down on the kitchen counter and chanced a look at the man on the sofa, oddly pleased to see him so at ease in the midst of your cluttered home. “I’d much rather downsize the collection. I don’t even need the majority of what I have– I’ve read through it all ten times over.”

He nodded, “Fair enough.”

“Anyway, I imagined you’d be hungry, so dinner’s almost ready.”

“Oh, damn,” Sebastian mumbled, sitting forward to run a hand through his drying hair as you flitted around the kitchen. “You didn’t have to.”

“Unless you planned on feeding yourself later, I think most shops will be closed by the time you leave,” you said pointedly, turning to hide your grin when you observed the brunet flushing bright red. Miraculously you resisted the urge to add ‘if at all’ to the end of your statement. You unearthed the corkscrew buried deep within the kitchen drawers and popped open the wine bottle, filling two glasses before striding back into the living room to hand one over to Sebastian. “Feel free to take a look at any of the books, see if any of them might be worth taking to the Archives.”

The larger man gave you a lopsided smirk as he took the offered glass and clinked it gently against yours, muttering his agreement before shamelessly ogling your retreating form returning to the kitchen. The cinched waist of your otherwise simple dress was incredibly distracting. He elected not to sift through the piles upon piles of books, opting to instead watch as you hummed to yourself and stirred something on the stove, which Sebastian was beginning to realize smelled pretty fantastic. He was grateful for the distance between you both so you couldn’t hear his stomach growling.

Once the food was ready, you ate with comfortable conversation flowing between the two of you the entire time. You asked Sebastian what he did in his soon to be nonexistent free time, and you were surprised to hear that he had taken on the role of Feldcroft’s token handyman. In his own words, the muggle approach to fixing things was relatively therapeutic, and he loved getting his hands dirty almost as much as he loved having his nose burrowed in book pages. It explained his physical appearance, at the very least. Until now, you’d just assumed he had a habit of squatting massive stacks of books in the Archives when he was bored.

In turn he had asked you about your hobbies, about the ancient magic sites you visited, and about living on-the-go so regularly. It was so normal for you now that you barely batted an eye at being away from home for weeks at a time, and you told him as much with a half-hearted shrug.

Lazily, you swirled the remaining wine around in your glass, bringing it to your mouth as you murmured, “It’s not like there’s anything waiting for me here, so I don’t mind it.”

Sebastian watched you intently as you finished off your drink, taking in the pretty flush decorating your cheeks and the delectable way you licked your wine-stained lips in the moment that followed. “Anything, or anyone?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t have anyone to come home to? No pets, no kids…” he trailed off, the rest of his question dangling in the air like a lone cloud. Your eyes fell to Sebastian’s hand as he sensually ran his pinched fingers along the stem of his own glass, and his half-hooded eyes hidden behind his glasses said everything in place of the missing portion of his sentence.

No lover, is what you knew he was indirectly asking.

“Do you see anyone else here?” you teased, the sides of your mouth curling into a coy smile.

“No,” Sebastian retorted, pushing his empty glass away as he sat back in his seat, amusement etched across his handsome face. “Then again, it doesn’t hurt to check. Had to make sure I was reading things correctly.”

You perched your elbow on the armrest of your chair and balanced your chin on top of your fist casually before asking, “Was that another one of your jokes?” Hoping that you looked more confident than you felt, you mirrored his position and crossed one of your legs over the other, taking immense satisfaction in the way the brunet’s throat bobbed at the sight of your legs outlined through your attire.

Sebastian looked puzzled for a moment before realizing what he’d said, and he rolled his eyes at the same time an airy laugh spilled from your lips. “An accidental one, make no mistake,” he moved forward to the edge of his seat, leaning forward to play with one of the folds of your dress with his index finger. “But I have been thinking about you all day, and I may or may not have convinced myself that you’re way out of my league.”

“You should be more confident,” you whispered, dropping your hand to clutch at the one the Archivist was inching towards your leg with. His fingers immediately spread to accommodate your smaller ones, and you tugged him a smidge closer so your noses were mere inches apart. Jokingly, you taunted him further by asking, “Did you still want to look at my book collection?”

Before you could so much as yelp, Sebastian closed the distance between the two of you in a flash and pressed his lips to yours fervently, any lingering awkwardness falling away like leaves on a tree. His free hand came to curl around the back of your neck, holding you firmly against his mouth as he angled his head to the side to deepen the kiss further, and you couldn’t help but moan against him at the brutish feeling of his broad hand holding you in place.

He pulled away just enough to brush a tinier, more delicate kiss against the tip of your nose before he sighed, “I really don’t give a damn about the books right now.”

A budding Archivist not caring about books? The scandal, is what you wanted to say, but then Sebastian’s lips were back on yours, swallowing your pending comment with a ferocity that had your stomach churning wantonly. Those brilliant hands of his left your neck and your hand to trail along your waist, his fingers digging firmly into the bodice of your dress to pull you towards him, and you followed his guidance all too willingly as he urged you from your seat. Within seconds you were in his lap, melting against him as he ground his hips up into yours while simultaneously using his hands to rock you against his hardening cock, and a satisfied groan emitted from him as you allowed him to move you as he pleased.

In-between kisses, Sebastian managed to croak out, “Bedroom?”

You barely managed a nod, too enthralled by the man under you to form actual words, and at the same time you dove back in for another heated kiss, Sebastian looped an arm around your back and the other under your ass as he stood up, lifting you with him as though you weighed nothing. Instinctively you hooked your legs around his hips, letting him haul you along to your bedroom while your hands flew to his neck to clutch at him ardently in a bid to keep your mouth glued to his. His ability to multi-task was something to compliment later on, because he kept walking and working his mouth over yours with a finesse that bordered on inhuman.

The next thing you knew you were being thrown down on the mattress, bouncing in place briefly before you had to bite your lip to stifle a curse as you watched Sebastian fucking crawl up the bed towards you, predatory and sexy as hell. As soon as he was within reach, you grabbed for one of his suspender straps and pulled him closer, kissing him once again and moaning eagerly when you felt his hand grip at the seductive curve of your waist to squeeze before he settled on top of you. With his knees on either side of you, it was impossible to overlook the feeling of his achingly hard cock pressing down against your leg, and Sebastian groaned loudly when you tried lifting your hips to convey your impatience.

“Someone’s excited,” he murmured against your swollen lips, grinning to himself as you worked to catch your breath. “Have you been thinking about me, too?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your train of thought momentarily derailing when Sebastian moved so his chest was pressing against your clothed breasts, his hips flush with yours to better grind against you. “Don’t you own a mirror?”

Instead of replying to your thinly veiled compliment, Sebastian dipped his head into the crook of your neck to nip and kiss his way along your jaw with a rumbling moan, the force of his ministrations forcing your head back against the pillows. He was as eager as you were, that much was certain. As he rutted his concealed cock against your thigh, you heard and felt him shudder against you, and in an attempt to silence himself, the Archivist’s plush lips latched firmly onto a patch of skin under your jaw to suck a mark there.

The stinging sensation of him biting down had your eyes fluttering shut, your entire being relishing in the light pain his teeth bestowed upon you, and Sebastian blindly reached for your wrist to pin your arm above your head. The dominant display had you voicing your approval in the form of a low moan, enjoying how being stretched out for him allowed for his other hand to rake down your side to start bunching up your dress. His movements didn’t cease as he lifted his hips slightly to free up the rest of the fabric trapped beneath him, and he expertly collected the material into a disheveled heap below your navel. When his dexterous fingers ghosted along the waistband of your undergarments, your next breath caught in your throat and caused you to gasp shakily.

You felt as Sebastian’s lips curved into a smirk against your spit-slick skin before sitting back on his heels to murmur, “You’re so noisy.”

Through his lashes, he watched as a brilliant flush swept up your neck to cover your face, and you timidly tried to hide your cheeks with the back of your free hand. “S-Sorry,” you stammered, but the man above you was having absolutely none of your self-consciousness.

Your mediocre shield was wrenched away from your face and pinned up alongside your other hand in an instant, and you blinked up at Sebastian in blatant surprise as he leaned menacingly over you. “Don’t stop,” he implored you, biting his lip as he took in the sight of you beneath him. “I love it.

The brunet secured your wrists into one of his hands so he could drop the other one back to your aching center, swiping two of his fingers up your slit through your underwear to feel the wetness that had collected there. The sensation left you breathless, another choked gasp weaseling its way past your lips and earning a dark chuckle from Sebastian. His digits moved up to slide beneath the fabric blocking his path, and a low groan sounded from him as he felt how truly soaked you were from his efforts. Without looking away from your pinched features, he gingerly slid a single finger in, biting his lip hungrily at the way your lips parted and your head rolled to the side when he began steadily pumping in and out of you.

When you felt his thumb begin to rub against your clit, your eyelids fluttered shut from the intense pleasure that washed over you, pulling a strangled whimper from you. “Fuck, Sebastian–”

The hand he had securely wrapped around your wrists tightened a fraction to draw your mind out of the gutter, and he roughly gritted out, “Look at me, darling– open those pretty eyes for me.” You couldn’t help but oblige him when he referred to you so sweetly, and when you cracked your eyes open once again, his body seemed to shudder with delight as he growled, “So fucking perfect. My name sounds damn good when you say it like that.”

With his gaze burning into yours and the close proximity between the two of you, you didn’t think the overwhelming euphoria you felt could get any better. That is, until he added a second finger into the mix. The initial stretch was felt only briefly before his thumb pressed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the persistent ministrations against your clit muting any discomfort and leaving you arching brainlessly beneath him as that hot, incessant feeling in your gut roared to life. It was tantalizing, and your hips bucked off the mattress in an attempt to chase his movements and reach the climax you were utterly desperate for.

“Please, please,” you begged mindlessly, your desire to come so potent that it was almost painful. “Please, Sebastian, please.”

“Already?” he tsk’d mockingly, shaking his head minutely as he eagerly wet his bottom lip and removed his thumb from your center. “I think you can hold on a bit longer, don’t you? I’d much rather end this with my cock, if it’s all the same to you.”

The lack of friction sobered you up instantly, and the lustful haze that had clouded your mind cleared enough for you to blink blearily up at him, a small frown playing on your lips. “Really?”

Sebastian cocked a brow at you, as though daring you to tell him he was being unreasonable. “Would you rather this end with my hands?”

You tried to roll your hips up into his hand before relenting rather quickly, and you muttered, “F-Fine. Just hurry up, I might throttle you if I have to wait any longer.”

Sebastian grinned wickedly at the way your back arched when he curled his fingers inside of you before torturously withdrawing them. A small sigh slipped from you when he let go of your wrists and slid away to hastily begin shedding his clothing, taking care to be gentler with his glasses as he set them down on the nightstand, and once he was wholly bare before you, the only thing you could do was stare.

His physique was mind boggling; toned, defined muscles made up every inch of his torso, accentuated by broad shoulders that you were convinced didn’t belong anywhere near someone who worked in a glorified library of all places. His skin was sun-kissed and peppered with freckles, a testament to the aforementioned physical labor he claimed to enjoy. It hadn’t made much sense to you before when he’d told you– forgoing magic to use his own hands to help fix things. But if a habit like that gave a man a body like his, you would never doubt his preferences again.

All of Sebastian looked positively divine, including his cock. Thick, hard, and twitching tellingly, it arched proudly against his taut stomach, the head violently red and already leaking beads of pre-cum in response to the situation at hand. You swallowed thickly when you realized that that would be inside of you, and you were suddenly grateful that he’d told you to wait. Not to discredit his fingers or anything, but you had a nagging feeling that you would enjoy his lower parts far more than his hands.

Ignoring the nervousness that settled in your stomach, you sat up to quickly pull the sleeves of your dress down your arms, wriggling out of the attire quickly before throwing the bunched up material to the floor. As you reached down to slide your underwear off, Sebastian returned to kneel in front of you and stopped you by lightly pushing you flat against the pillows, then ran his hands along the plane of your stomach.

“Allow me,” he said chivalrously, taking care to gently slip his fingers under the waistband and sensually remove the material entirely. With nothing else separating you from him, Sebastian took his time eating you alive with his eyes, letting his hands drag up your thighs and squeeze at your knees before pushing your legs apart so he had space to siddle forward. The blunt head of his cock bumped against your slick cunt, and a barely there shudder ran down your spine in anticipation.

It took a good amount of self-control for you to let Sebastian press into you achingly slow, his eyes pinching shut while his teeth savaged his bottom lip, and when he was finally sheathed inside of you fully, the brunet was practically shaking with the desire to fuck your brains out. He waited, though, his palms sliding from your knees to your upper thighs to dig his fingers into the skin there, raking his hungry gaze over you while he gave you a moment to adjust.

You appreciated the sentiment, because Merlin– he was big. It was impossible to overlook every delicious inch of him pressing against your inner walls, the subtle grinding of his hips stretching you out more and more to the point where your breath continuously caught in your throat. It felt good, though. Good enough to leave you wondering why you’d never sought him out when the two of you were still in school together.

At some point, however, you realized Sebastian was fucking with you. It probably had something to do with the repetitive, shallow thrusts he teased you with, and when you craned your neck up to look at him, he was already staring at you with a wide grin splitting his face, his tongue poking out between his teeth.

“W-What?” you grumbled, your hands fisting in the sheets. “Are you going to make me beg or something? I already said please.”

“I was just enjoying the face you were making,” Sebastian said, rocking his hips just enough to leave you arching towards him. “You look like you’re trying really hard to keep it together. It’s cute.”

“I’m flattered,” you breathed out around an airy laugh, then wriggled your hips down in an attempt to bait the Archivist into moving. Mercifully, it worked.

Sebastian gave a throaty moan, leaning forward to brace one hand on the side of your waist while the other gripped at your thigh tighter, and he withdrew his cock languidly before plunging back in. Your breathing hitched and your head fell back against the pillows at the abrupt sensation, and the sight of you so obviously enthralled by his efforts was what expelled the remainder of his patience.

Holding onto your thigh with bruising strength, Sebastian fell into a steady, toe-curling pace. He pulled you onto his cock with every deep plunge, digging his feet into the bed to lend some force to his thrusts, and his reward was the sound of your shaky voice reverberating off of the bedroom walls as your spine rounded. You keened loudly, overcome with both the feeling and the sight of Sebastian– because not only was he deceptively good at rendering your mind into a puddle of mush, he looked amazing while he was doing it. The muscles in his arms rippled as he supported himself above you, his brown curls falling into his face as his head hung heavy between his sculpted shoulders, and when your arousal had you clamping down on his cock harder, those full, kissable lips of his fell open around a guttural groan.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he grit out through his clenched teeth, gazing down at you with lust-dark eyes that made your blood burn hot in your veins. “So bloody gorgeous– like a fucking work of art.”

His praises left you whining in earnest, and you didn’t bother to keep your voice down in the slightest. With every sinful noise that escaped you, Sebastian’s hold on you seemed to intensify, and his thick cock filled you harder with every desperate pump of his hips. His ragged breathing left you craving more of him– all of him– and you rutted against him as much as was physically possible in a bid to take him deeper.

Sebastian picked up on your desires wordlessly, and he shifted his hold on your thigh so his hand was looped around it to better pull it to the side, giving him the room he needed to spear into you with wicked precision. It also allowed him to discover what you sounded like crying out for more, your voice reedy and strident within the four walls of the bedroom, and when he shifted his hips down to achieve new depths, your moans echoed around him. He had to be hitting a good spot.

“Right there, Sebastian, fuck– right there–”

Your lower half was positively shaking, and Sebastian was honestly at his limit. He sat up momentarily before grabbing both of your legs, watching as you blearily tried to figure out what was going on while he pulled your knees over his shoulders. Moving over you swiftly and urgently, he bent you back and rammed his thick cock back into your tight heat, animalistic grunts sounding from him as you arched tight and cried out, but you were barely given the space to breathe before he was fucking you hard– hips bucking rough and deep and so fucking good that you were left screaming and gasping helplessly at the sheets.

Sebastian pinned you to the bed and pounded into you, his own moans dripping loud from his lips as his hands grasped at the sweaty, flushed skin of your waist, pulling you close while he filled you over and over and drank in your noisy pleas for more until your back was arching clear off the bed and your thighs were shaking. You were barely holding on, your climax from earlier roaring back to life in your gut and rendering your tongue a lead weight in your mouth.

Forming words was damn near impossible, but you still managed to babble out, “Like that, Sebastian, fuck, just like that– I’m close– please, I’m–”

He obliged you instantly, keeping up his pace while he brought his hand between your legs to thumb over your bundle of nerves, his hips angling upwards with every deep, precise plunge. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, you watched through your slitted eyes as he bent forward to press a chaste kiss to your parted lips, swallowing your breathy whines with a satisfied expression playing over his face. “Come on, darling. Let’s hear how you sound falling apart on my cock, yeah?”

As if you even needed the encouragement.

Every muscle in your body tensed as a wave of unparalleled ecstasy crashed over you, and your hands flew to Sebastian’s shoulders to absentmindedly attempt to grasp at something to ground yourself. His movements didn’t stop as you writhed beneath him– milking every possible noise out of you with unconcealed fervor– and it was only when you sagged into the sheets twitching and whimpering that Sebastian let your legs drop to the sides so he could wrap his arms around you to give you the last of his deep, quick thrusts before he was coming too, your name tumbling over his lips as he fell alongside you.

“Fuck,” Sebastian murmured directly beside your ear, still draped in a boneless heap on top of you as you trembled against him. One of your hands slid up to bury your fingers in his tangled curls, and you mumbled something unintelligibly into the crook of his neck. He pulled back slightly to hear you better, “What?”

Your eyes were still glazed over as you came down from your post-coital high, “Are the Archives chock-full of sex books or something?”

Sebastian smirked tiredly at you, pulling out gently before collapsing beside you with his arms still wrapped securely around your waist. “One or two. Why?”

You stared up at the ceiling in a daze and shook your head softly to yourself, “Because you’re a little too good at that. It’s kind of scary.”

“Good scary or bad scary?”

“Good scary,” you clarified, turning over so you could face the brunet and smile softly at him. The way his entire face lit up at the sight of you would live on in your mind for years to come, you were sure, so you wistfully said, “We should do this again sometime.”

Sebastian paused, leaving you worried for a short second until he wriggled in a way that let him press his hard cock against your stomach, and he closed the distance between the two of you to give you a chaste kiss on your nose before grinning mischievously. “Like right now?”

You raised your eyebrows in silent surprise before laughing playfully, rolling over onto him before taking his face in your hands to kiss him deeply. It was a sweet moment– tender, affectionate, and heartwarming. It only ceased when you let go of his cheeks to move down his larger body, already itching to put your hands to better use.

The only thing that stopped Sebastian from staying holed up within the warm, comfortable confines of your bedroom with you forever was the imminent arrival of Monday, but Saturday and Sunday were days well spent. You were rather disappointed when your time together came to an end– enough so that you actually pouted when Sebastian had slid out from beneath the covers to get ready for work. Thankfully though, the Archivist was as unwilling as you were to call it quits after everything, and following a heated, lengthy kiss, he promised to come back as soon as he was able.

It only took him eight hours to find himself back in your bed, but you knew then that it would be impossible to stay away from him for very long from here on out.

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x female!reader #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy oneshot #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow oneshot #my writing #the final word count for this being 6969 is honestly the highlight of my fucking month who would have thought #I'm just a large child

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zablife · 6 months

Note

🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ screeching in here now that my coffee has kicked in and I can type sentences again. Very excited that your requests are open again!

Please could I have something based around ‘Are you jealous?’ with Tommy?

Sorry I know you’ll get a million Tommy requests but I’m just a girl 🙈 I am not immune. Ideally the filthier the better 🤭 but just wherever the muse takes you babe! xxx

Thanks for the request, Alex! I've combined your ask for smut with another lovely anon's request for a Cillian character w/ breeding kink. I hope this is ok! (Slight warning for hints of dark, possessive Tommy, but not to worry bc it turns to fluff at the end.)

All Mine 🔞

Tommy x gf reader

Tommy's nails dug into your forearm as he dragged you away from the party you were hosting. "Where are we going?" you whispered, stumbling slightly to keep pace with his strides. Taking one last glance over your shoulder, you flashed an apologetic smile to your guests, realizing they were as confused as you were.

Once out of earshot, Tommy's composure shattered, rage melting his icy blue eyes. "Why didn't you tell me you'd fucked my new business partner?" he seethed.

You shook free of his hold with an indignant look. "Jesus, Tommy! That was five years ago!" You rolled your eyes as he began pacing the long corridor. In his haste to leave the table, he'd forgotten his cigarette case and without the distraction, his agitation grew.

Throwing your hands up, you exclaimed, "Yes, I have a past! But I didn't think someone like you would hold that against me."

He stalked toward you, narrowing his eyes as he came close enough for you to smell the whisky on his breath. "But I do, especially when you spend half the fucking night whispering in his ear!"

You gathered your long skirt over your arm in preparation to leave, shaking your head at him in disbelief. Every conversation you'd had that evening was in promotion of Shelby Company Limited. Frankly, you were fed up with all the business talk and ready to scream at him for his ungrateful attitude. However something stirred inside when you glimpsed the tortured look in his eye. Your shoulders relaxed, backing down from the fight when you realized he was nothing more than a hurt little boy lashing out.

"Are you jealous?" you asked incredulously, an irrepressible giggle bubbling up from your chest at the idea of him pouting like a child.

"You're the one making a fool of yourself," he grumbled, not in the mood for teasing.

Caressing his face with your hand, you attempted to bring back the confident man you knew. In these moments he needed you to quiet his inner voice of inadequacy. "Where do you get these ridiculous notions and when will you give them up?" you scolded with a peck to his lips. You only intended a brief moment of affection before returning to your guests, but Tommy had other ideas.

Leaning down to hook a strong arm beneath your knees, he lifted you off the ground. Yelping in surprise, you threw your arms around his neck to brace yourself. You couldn't be sure, but you thought you detected a hint of a smirk tug at Tommy's lips as he carried you toward the staircase and away from the noise of the first floor.

Alone in the quiet of the bedroom, Tommy's intentions were clear. Hands roving your body, he hitched up your skirt, squeezing the flesh of your ass appreciatively. His body pressed into yours insistently, slamming your back against the vanity mirror with enough force to break it.

"Tommy, slow down," you begged, unable to keep up with his feverish kisses. However, his ministrations did not stop, his large hand encircling your throat possessively as the other dipped between your legs. He unexpectedly forced your underwear aside to push two fingers into your sopping heat.

"Is this for him or me?" he demanded in a low voice, pumping his digits into you the way he knew drove you wild. You could scarcely think as he worked you into a frenzy matching his own, but you knew he expected an answer.

"You...always you, Tom," you huffed out in uneven breaths, gripping his shoulder for support when he began biting and sucking near your collarbone. With that declaration Tommy abruptly stopped, staring into your eyes to determine the truth. Finding them glossy with unshed tears and feeling the flutter of your desire around his fingers, he was satisfied you were being honest with him. He rewarded you by hooking his fingers against the achingly delicious spot within you that set stars dancing behind your eyelids.

"So perfect," he praised, pressing his forehead to yours. "And loyal?"

"Yes," you whimpered as his thumb grazed your clit, sending sparks shooting through you.

"Then there's one more thing you need to do to prove it," he pronounced, withdrawing his hand and denying your pleasure so as to have your undivided attention. You whined at the sudden loss of stimulation, tears nearly spilling onto your flushed cheeks in protest.

The hand at your throat stroked your delicate skin gently as he fed you his soaked fingers. You sucked wantonly on your own juices while he nuzzled his nose against yours and whispered to you softly. "If you give me a child, there won't be any more doubts."

Your eyes went wide at his request, but he scarcely noticed, rubbing himself against your thigh to show how eager he was to begin. "Take off your dress," he commanded in a low voice.

"Now? We have guests," you reminded him, but he wouldn't hear any arguments.

A growl of frustration rumbled in his chest as he answered, "I don't give a fuck. Take it off now or I'll do it for you."

Apparently you didn't make your decision quickly enough because you heard the snag of fabric before catching the rapid motion of his hands out of the corner of your eye. Within moments the slit at your thigh was torn to your waist, exposing your lower half and sending shivers through your entire body.

With a harsh gulp, you removed the damaged garments as Tommy watched with lust filled eyes, stroking himself before you shamelessly. "That's better," he hummed in satisfaction, palming the globe of your breast. You nodded, biting your lip. You'd learned long ago you were powerless against Tommy's will, his desires becoming your own.

"Have to show that bastard who you belong to," he said through gritted teeth as he pushed you onto the mattress. You could only nod in agreement as he entered you swiftly, setting a brutal pace from the start. It was unlike anything you'd experienced before with Tommy rutting into you with reckless abandon. His hips slammed into yours with punishing force, fingers at your hips wrapped tightly enough to leave crescent shaped bruises.

Your cries soon echoed through the room and he did nothing to quiet you. In fact he spurred you on, demanding to hear how much you wanted his seed. You had no trouble complying, cries falling from your lips with each deep stroke. "Please, Tommy," you pleaded in a high pitched whine you barely recognized as your own, needing his comforting warmth within you instead of spurting across your chest or stomach.

The sight of you with half lidded eyes, begging for his cum was all Tommy needed to tumble over the edge. Quickly losing rhythm, he clutched your waist mumbling, "Going to fill you up." Suddenly his hips stuttered to a halt as he seated himself deep within you. You moaned at the intoxicating feeling of rope after rope of hot cum coating your insides, his release triggering your own. While you rubbed your clit to prolong the waves of pleasure, you heard Tommy moan at the way your cunt continued to milk him. "Such a good girl, taking every last drop," he praised.

He took a moment to admire you, watching your ample chest heaving and plump lips parted in ecstasy. He'd never felt so satisfied, but he soon collapsed upon you in contented exhaustion.

The enormity of what you'd just done came rushing toward you, but you were calmed by the weight of his body holding you down. Running your fingertips through the soft, shorn sides of his hair you mused, "Tommy, what is it you really want?" You could still feel the way his heart beat against his ribcage, transferring vibration through your body. It felt as though you could share anything with each other in this moment, while you were still joined as one.

He raised his face from the crook of your neck to place a tender kiss to your lips. "You," he stated simply. Running a hand down your body to rest over your stomach, he added, "Can you blame me? You're the most incredible woman I've ever met. Of course I want you to have my children."

You beamed at him, heart swelling with pride at his admission. He wasn't normally so effusive. Leaning in to kiss him, he withdrew from you and you let out a whimper at the aching emptiness. As sticky white rivulets of his spend ran down your inner thighs, Tommy scooped it up with his fingers, pushing it back inside you.

You sighed contentedly as he placed a kiss to your temple, aftershocks from your orgasm causing you to clench onto his fingers, drawing his cum further inside you. "Good girl, keep it in," he instructed, peppering your face with kisses as you grew sleepy.

However, one thought lingered in the back of your mind. "How could you have thought I wanted anyone else? You know I'm all yours," you declared, hoping to dispel any lingering worry he might have. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt Tommy's cock stir against your thigh.

Removing his fingers from you, he replaced them with his cock and began slow, gentle thrusts against your opening until he was hard enough to bury himself into you once more. He groaned at the sight of your tightness split around him, looking as though you were made just for him. Leaning down to cradle your neck and shoulders under his arms, he held you close. Hot breath fanning over your ear, he murmured, "When I see your beautiful body swollen with my child, then I'll know you're all mine."

A needy cry escaped your throat as his cock dragged against your oversensitive walls, your nails clawing at his back to urge him back inside. "S'alright," he hushed, "I'm going to keep you full," he promised with a snap of his hips. You wrapped your legs around him, heels eagerly pressing into his back to accept everything he could give.

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

Tag List:

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@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

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@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

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@look-at-the-soul

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@little-diable

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@call-sign-shark

@thomashelbyswife

@peakyltd

@shelby-fangirl00

@dandelionprints

@scorpiussage

@l1-l4

@allie131313

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby #Cillian Murphy

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chenfleur · 7 months

Text

dreamy nights

summary. you finally make your grand appearance on jake's subathon.

pairing. streamer!jake x y/n ft twitch chat

genre. fluff, twitch streamer au

word count. 1.9k

released. 10.18.2023

author’s note. feedback is appreciated! i don't know if this requires context but just in case: a subathon is a stream where each time the streamer gets a sub, it adds time to the length of the stream!

masterlist

"That's not how the game works, chat!"

Even with a door separating you, Jake's whines still manage to reach your ears. Pushing down a smile, you delicately knock your first against the cold wood before slowly pushing in.

The room is shrouded in darkness, with the only source of light being the two large monitor screens set up; they're terribly blinding, causing you to recoil ever so slightly.

Too invested in the game in front of him, your boyfriend doesn't notice you've entered the room. This realization dawns on you, and instead of making your way towards him like you'd originally planned, you lean your weight against his doorway, simply watching him.

A fond smile dances on your lips.

The subathon's something he's been planning for ages.

It's something he had promised to his viewers, promised to himself that he'd carry out at least once in his streaming career. He's taken practically everything into consideration—what games he'd play, what guests he'd bring onto his stream, what would serve as entertainment while he's asleep. At the end, a chunk of the proceeds would go towards your local children's charity.

"Why?" you'd asked when he initially introduced the idea months ago.

He'd brought it up over some late night takeout—the two of you sharing food with distant sounds of traffic and quiet, curious conversations woven in between.

The plastic bag rustled as Jake pulled it closer to him, reaching in and taking out two bubble teas. As he slid your drink over to you, he had replied softly:

"Because I don't remember a time where I haven't wanted to do this. I've been given the privilege to give back to all of the people who have made my dream come true. I want this."

Jake Sim never fails to amaze you. You can't fathom how someone has been crafted with so much raw kindness—much less that you had managed to land that someone as your better half.

ari_01: look behind you bozo

"Look behind you, bozo- huh?"

Jake hastily spins his chair around. His eyes search through the dark before landing on you, tucked away in the safety of his doorway.

The sight of you eliminates tension in his body that he didn't even realize existed. A soft smile finds its way onto his face at the way your figure is illuminated from the pale blue glow of his monitor screens.

"Hi, beautiful."

It's been years and he still manages to make you reel at the simplest of compliments.

"Hi," you whisper back.

Turning back towards his monitor, Jake pauses his game. "Alright chat, Y/N's here. She's still a bit camera shy, so no monkey business, okay? You'll scare her," he scolds. You have to press a hand to your mouth to contain your laughter.

milkbread: MONKEY BUSINESS?

user1993: jake get out we want y/n

mariluvr: OMG ITS THE PRETTY GIRL!!! HIHIHIIIIIII

Jake playfully rolls his eyes before beckoning for you to join him. You oblige, pulling out a chair from the side and taking a seat. Habitually your hand reaches for his, fingers intertwining underneath the desk.

"Hi chat," you greet, a smile growing on your face as an influx of enthusiastic greeting messages appear on the screen.

A huff sounds from beside you. "Gosh, they're never this excited to see me."

"Don't dwell on it. I'm just naturally likeable," you tease, casting a brief glance off to the side. You expect a retort, yet it never comes.

Instead, you feel a squeeze of your hand. "How come you're up? It's late."

You purse your lips together, embarrassment filling your body at the thought of being in front of an audience of thousands of people.

"Go on," Jake presses.

"Just... missed you."

Jake swears his entire stream can see the way your words makes him melt into a puddle. He tries to—and fails spectacularly at—keeping his smile at bay.

"Yeah? Missed me?" he whispers. You nod, head lowered.

It's day four of what Jake had predicted to be an around week-long endeavour, but clearly he's underestimated how much his viewers love him (or hate him?) as the timer seems to see no end in sight. The only moments you've really gotten to spend with him over the course of the past few days are when he stumbles into bed late at night.

You've spent longer time periods apart, but you're still stirred by longing.

A small sigh leaves his lips. He runs his tongue over his teeth before lightly tugging you towards him.

"C'mere," he says, motioning towards his lap.

You look at him in bewilderment, reluctance etching itself into each of your facial features. "Jake, you're streaming-"

"Mmm," he hums, shaking his head childishly. "Don't care. They already know how far I'm gone. Besides, I need to prove them wrong—they keep calling me rizzless."

A laugh leaves your lips, but you still don't make any move towards him. Sensing your unwillingness, he places a gentle hand on your shoulder to encourage you.

"It's okay," he cooes. "It's okay, I promise."

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, as if challenging one another. His gaze is heavy on you, and eventually, you find yourself folding.

Carefully, you place yourself into his lap, the warmth emanating off of him instantly making you relax. His arms wrap around you loosely, resting on the curve of your hips.

"Stop subbing, chat. You're making my girlfriend miss me."

h3artz: i will literally gift 20 rn. do not start

minlmn: sounds like smth a PISSBABY would say

user0304: think about the children jake

"Think about the childr- Okay! Okay. Of course, for the kids," he laughs, rolling his eyes before redirecting his attention to you.

"Tired?" he asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You nod, sinking further into his embrace. "Are you gonna start up the mods segment soon?" you mumble into the soft fabric of his sweater.

Whenever it's time for him to go to bed, his moderators take over the stream for the night to ensure that there's always something going on—whether that's playing games or hosting a makeshift podcast.

"Yeah, soon. Via told me she wasn't available until midnight, so just a little longer. Then we can go to bed," he whispers, fingers gently tapping a rhythm on your lower back. When he feels you nod against him, he turns his attention back to his screen.

mi11: u guys r the reason why i believe in love

urmom123: BOOOOOOO YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE LAME LIKE THE REST OF US #NOTMYSTREAMER

streetfighter: u literally played league for 8 hours yesterday... what am i doing wrong with my life...

"Chat, stop being annoying. You should be happy for me," Jake grumbles. "And hey, to any league players out there-" he points at his webcam. "This is a sign. Don't lose hope, soldiers."

You erupt into soft laughter, removing your face from the crook of his neck and slapping him on the shoulder.

"Shut the hell up," you groan, eliciting a loud laugh from him.

Eyes scanning the live chat, you point out a message. "Look, Jake. Someone said 'not my streamer'," you snort.

"I'm used to it. I think I was collectively disowned yesterday during Uno."

"I heard about that from Jay. You must really suck at Uno."

He grins, hands travelling up to your waist. "But you still love me right?"

You scoff incredulously. "I loved you when you wore highlighter clothing to school everyday. It's going to take more than sucking at Uno for me to stop loving you, idiot."

Jake affectionately pinches your sides, causing you to yelp. Scowling, you begin to berate your snickering boyfriend before the sound of a notification interrupts you.

Upon reading it, Jake groans. "Oh, lord. Thank you for the twenty gifted."

You watch as the timer instantly shoots up another two hours, making your boyfriend close his eyes in defeat, leaning his head back against the headrest of his chair. Smiling, you brush some hair out of his face.

"They keep subbing," he whines. "It's like they enjoy watching my suffering."

You chuckle. "I don't think you should be badmouthing them. They're the ones who fund your stupid financial decisions, like buying a cardboard cutout of Heeseung. Which, by the way, came in today."

"Oh. You weren't supposed to see that."

"What is that even for?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

The two of you spend some more time talking with chat. You share what you've been doing for the past few days since Jake's been preoccupied with the subathon, recounting the bowling night you did with Jay and Sunghoon the other day. It takes you physically shutting Jake up with your hand to make him stop whining.

Exhaustion finally fully catches up to you, making you yawn. Jake watches you fondly before turning towards his monitor and swiftly muting his microphone.

"Go to bed," he coaxes, a hand smoothing over your hair.

You nod drowsily, slowly peeling yourself up from his hold. "Okay. Bye, chat."

"Mic's muted, baby."

"Oh."

You settle for some waves towards the camera, watching as messages bidding you goodnight flood in with a small smile. You think that you're incredibly lucky to be so well-received by his chat.

Jake's hand lingers on the small of your back. "I'll come join you in a bit, okay? I love you."

"Love you too," you mumble.

You begin to step towards the exit when suddenly, you're jerked backwards. A yell would've escaped you if it weren't for the fact that in a fraction of a second, your lips are on Jake's.

One of his hands is at the back of your neck gently pulling you down towards him, while the other one comes up into your hair.

For a second, you completely forget that you're on camera. The feeling of his plush lips on yours overwhelms you—your mind can't help but go blank.

But when that second is over, your eyes immediately snap open. You push at his shoulders, quickly stepping away from him. A scowl overtakes your face as he snickers at your reaction.

You flush crimson. "Next time, if you're going do that, turn off your webcam," you hiss.

"Mhm. Whatever you say, angel."

When you stumble out the door and frantically close it behind you, Jake turns back towards his stream and unmutes his microphone.

user899: MY EYES

redskies: highway looking so comfy rn

plays101: mom and dad get a fucking ROOM challenge

user555: this guy's asking to be slammed with a ban LMAO

Leaning back in his chair with a slight smirk, Jake's hands rest behind his head.

"Relax, chat. I'm not going to get banned. You know-" he pauses, his bottom lip between his teeth as he fails to contain his smile for the hundredth time since you appeared.

Jake hears you turn on the sink in the bathroom, yet the ghost of your presence still lingers in the way his body is still warm from your touch—the way he can smell the citrusy undertones of your shampoo.

"...that's what love is. Makes you do all sorts of stupid shit."

#im back on my twitch streamer shit 🔥🔥#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enhypen jake #jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #jake fluff #jake imagines #jake scenarios

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dazed-and-confused23 · 28 days

Text

Dear Heart and Gentle People 3

Summary: It's been a couple of months since you've seen your ghoul. Neither of you expects to cross paths in the Mojave.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings. Some heavy putting and kissing here. Alcohol as well, i guess exhibitionist behavior?

Part 4 -> HERE

Freeside is one of the largest and relatively safest cities that Cooper has been to in his two hundred years on this cursed Earth. People still try to kill him, what's new, but this place has tall stone walls and well-meaning gangs that patrol the broken streets. The Kings make him huff and twist his lips as nostalgia hits him like a deathclaw.

The only bar in town is called The Atomic Wrangler, and Cooper castes his gazes across the bar and stage before he turns to the twins who own the establishment. They introduce themselves as Francsine and James Garrett, and Cooper tilts his hat in a greeting and orders a stiff drink.

Several hours later, he sits at a table, legs extended and pleasantly drunk as he laughs with the other patrons of the bar at the comedian on stage. He makes a sound of confusion when a shadow suddenly falls upon him, and then there is a smoothskin blocking his view. The curse that bubbles falls to the wayside when he looks up and realizes that it's not just any smoothskin. It was his.

You smile down at the Ghoul, that familiar amused quirk of your lips that Cooper hadn't realized he'd missed so much. So much had changed since the last time he had seen you, that this almost felt like meeting you for the first time all over again. Coop blinked up at you, jaw dropping as you step between his open legs, and proceeded to sit in his lap.

"Fancy meeting you here, cowpoke," you say, and despite his brain being soaked in alcohol, Cooper wasn't a complete fucking idiot. His hands find your hips and drag you close, manhandling you until you sit pressed flush to his front, your core already hot and pulsing with need. His cock throbs in his pants, and Coop bucks forward, a quiet sigh of pleasure escaping him at the friction.

"I'm too drunk for pillow talk, baby," the ghoul rumbles and his hands find your ass, massaging the globes harshly, and ruts up in a slow grind against your covered cunt. He finds your eyes, licks his teeth, and dives in to bite along the collom of your throat. He trails up your jaw and then your cheeks, lingering there as he hisses in your ear.

"Better get me outta here before I fuck you in front of all thae people. Give 'em a real show."

Your thighs quake at the dark promise, and you have to really think to yourself. Would anyone notice? Would anyone care?

Cooper watches your reaction, and a slow, evil grin creeps along his face. One hand leaves your ass and slides around, his thumb slipping between the apex of your legs and rubbing against your clothed clit. The pressure has you cursing quietly and falling forward, your face resting in the crook of the ghoul's neck. He laughs, rough and deep in your ear.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Darlin'. You'd want to show everyone in here just who you fuckin belong to."

You hiss through your teeth, already feeling like you're at the end of the rope. You hump against his hand, wanting to come so badly it hurts. Cooper goes back to sucking dark marks into your flesh, teeth nipping harshly, and it takes an embarrassingly quick time for you to tip over the edge.

Cooper swallows your whine with a kiss, shoving his tongue past your lips and tasting the nuka and rum you'd had earlier. He keeps you close as you come down from your high, kissing you until you have to push yourself away from him.

You already look fucked out, but Coop isn't nearly done with you, and tucks his arms under your ass and stands from his seat. He marches to the bar, where James hands him a key to the corner room upstairs without a word.

#cooper howard #fallout #fallout prime #fallout tv series #x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #dear hears and gentle people

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dotster001 · 3 months

Text

When You Escape Him; Diasomnia

Summary: Yandere Diasomnia x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

A/N: so, turns out the burnout was actually sleep deprivation. Who knew!

Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Non NRC Staff

CW: major spoiler under the cut, but it does need a content warning, so if you want to see it, it's there, if not, skip straight to Mal's picture. yandere stuff, capture, forced sleep, implied past forced sleep, threats to innocents, Lilia is a shit in 3/4 of these,blood, implied previous injury, implied minor character death

Spoiler Content Warning: reader dies in Sebek 's part.

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

Malleus had done something. Something unnatural. You'd at first kind of believed him. But the horns had started growing in on your son. This was your and Malleus' biological child. As unnatural and impossible as it was, you had no doubt.

The woman who ran the safe house had told you to put him up for adoption. She'd smiled sympathetically, but she told you in no uncertain terms that this child would damn everyone there. So either the child had to go, or you'd both have to go. She gave you until the next morning to leave. She'd send you with food and money, but you couldn't stay there.

But an hour later, as your son had summoned a storm with his crying, she had knocked on your door and told you she couldn't give you until the next day anymore. It just wasn't safe. And you understood, so you quickly began to pack, hastily hushing your infant son, who seemed in no hurry to stop crying.

You froze as you heard a boom. Not a boom from the storm your son had summoned. But a boom you recognized.

You heard screams in the safe house as vines crawled up the outer walls and windows. You looked at the sad little boy that you'd tried to save from a life in a cold palace, with a possessive and jealous father. You shouldn't have even made it this far. But that's exactly why you thought….

It didn't matter now.

You picked him up, and ran out of your room, straight out the door and into the rain.

“Malleus! Enough!” You shouted. “I'll go with you! Just leave them alone!”

Before you stood a huge dragon, surrounded by his army. But as the dragon looked down at you, its eyes softened, and he began to shrink back into the man you married.

He smiled wildly, extending his arms wide.

“Beloved,” he purred, momentarily forgetting his anger as relief filled him.

You walked slowly through the mud, ignoring the cold that seeped in your bones from the excessive rain caused by two separate storms. You took a shuddering breath and stepped into his embrace, fighting off a shiver of a different kind as his arms wrapped around you and your son.

“Don't hurt them. They're all just innocent people who need someplace to stay,” you whispered in his ear.

He pressed his lips to your ears, continuing to purr, as he said, “They tried to hide their king's spouse from him. They must face some sort of punishment.”

“Mal,” you said firmly, gently pulling far enough back that you could look in his eyes. “They weren't hiding me. They were about to tell you where I was.”

A lie. But the only way to keep the people in that building safe.

“I shall spare them then,” he hummed.

The change was instant. A flicker in his eyes that only you knew well enough to pick up on.

“Lilia, please escort my son home,” he ordered, his eyes not leaving yours as you felt the boy wrenched from your arms. Immediately, Malleus' grip shifted to your arm, and he dragged you along with him, straight into a glowing green portal…

Which led to a tower you recognized.

“Wait, no, no, I'm sorry-”

“If I don't punish you, how will you ever learn?” He waved his staff, summoning a stone table.

“Mal, please, our son-”

“You don't love him, but this will teach you to.”

“I do so love him!”

“Then you wouldn't have broken his family,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

There was nowhere to run in the windowless tower, but you knew what came next. So you tried to yank yourself out of his grip, even if it was fruitless.

“What if he doesn't live another hundred years?” You cried as he wrestled you onto the table.

“He will. He has his father's blood.”

At least he admitted it.

His hand covered your eyes, a green glow beginning to fill your vision.

“He won't remember me,” you pleaded as your body began to grow numb.

“I'll ensure he does.”

You drifted off, falling into dreams designed to “open your heart.” Dreams where the three of you lived happily.

After another hundred years of that, surely you'd become the well behaved spouse he needed. And if not, he had a hundred more years to spend on you. And one day? One day his perfect family would be a reality.

You were elbows deep in another explosion your son had caused through his “science experiments” when you heard a knock on the door.

You blew a hair out of your face, before turning to your son.

“Can you get that, baby?”

He nodded quickly, happy to do anything to lower his punishment. You dug through some more goo (you didn't want to know what exactly he made) and finally found the bathtub drain. You pulled the plug and…

Nothing.

You groaned. Guess you had to clean it the hard way. Again.

You heard excited noises from the front door, and smiled softly. Your son's partner was prone to making surprise visits, so you figured he was telling them all about his latest explosion. Young love was cute. You hoped it stayed that way.

You pulled your goo covered arms out of the bathtub, and pulled over the bucket that had seen horrors. You began scooping handfuls into it, hoping that less goo would force the drain to go down, when your son came back to the door, looking ecstatic.

“Hey, um, there's someone here to see you.”

You smirked, and said, “Well, as you can see I'm a little busy. Tell them to wait.”

He shook his head vehemently.

“Uh uh, you gotta come see them now.”

The way he was bouncing up and down, it must have been Uncle Epel. He was the favorite Uncle, mainly because he always brought treats with him.

“Well, tell him if he wants to chat, he has to help me clean-”

No sooner had the words left your mouth when some familiar pink magic flew over your shoulder, and made the goo in the bath dissipate. You froze in your place, too scared to look.

“Easy peasy. Luckily I've had a lot of experience with kid's messes, fu fu.”

You were a coward, who was too scared to face fate. As though refusing to face it would mean it would never come up behind you, and wrap his arms around you, affectionately nuzzling your neck.

“How was your vacation?” Lilia hummed.

“That's my dad!” Your son interrupted, excitedly. “It all makes sense now! Why I look fae, why I'm so skilled at magic, why I have a hard time connecting with my peers…”

If Lilia was anyone else, you'd quickly explain it didn't make sense, it was just a sick coincidence. But with him wrapped around you like a python…

You weren't in a position to be dealing with broken ribs, again.

“Not only that, but you have a big brother!” Lilia said happily.

“I do!”

“He's probably downstairs waiting for you! Let's go!”

You couldn't blame your son for falling for Lilia's charms. You'd also made that mistake many years ago. Lilia excitedly took your hand, floating down the stairs while dragging you, your son behind you.

At the bottom of the steps was Silver, who was looking anywhere but at you. Lilia summoned a portal, and you were quickly pulled through it, followed by the two boys.

Your son stared in awe at the mansion that haunted your nightmares.

“We get to live here now?”

“Yes! I have a room all for you, Silver will show you the way, then he'll take you to get a new wardrobe.”

Your son took the stairs two at a time, then paused to look back at you, confused.

“Why haven't we been a family the entire time?”

You stiffened again, but Lilia was a wonderful actor.

“You see, your father is fae and loses track of time. I was supposed to come pick you up. I only just realized how much time passed. I'm so sorry.”

He turned to you, he laced his fingers through your hair, kissing you passionately. He pulled slightly away, whispering,

“Forgive me?”

In an attempt to ease whatever punishment was coming your way, you slowly nodded. You son beamed happily, then looked at you both.

“This is the best day ever! I can't wait to tell my partner!” He pulled out his phone, immediately beginning the call as he continued up the stairs.

“Well? Was that enough of a vacation for you?” Lilia asked coldly.

“How long-”

“Sevens, I knew where you were the whole time. Quite frankly, I'm insulted that you felt otherwise.”

He sounded genuinely insulted. Fuck.

“So…” you trailed off.

“I haven't decided what to do with you yet. You know how important you and my family are to me, yet you ran from me, and stole our son.” He grabbed you by the hair, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“But rest assured, if this happens again, I'll come up with a punishment that leans more…irreversible.”

“Y/N?”

Fuck. You knew that soft voice. It had a slight tremble of disbelief and shock, so you weren't surprised when you felt a hand gently take your chin, and direct it to a pair of gorgeous auroral hues.

You had thought enough time would pass that you would be unfindable. So here you were, at a cafe with your teenage son, thinking you were safe. What a joke.

“Y/N, where have you been? I missed you.”

You believed him. God, you wish you didn't, but you did. The problem with Silver was that he never knew what he did wrong. He didn't understand. To him, you just vanished one day, for no reason.

“Oh-” you started, but your son interrupted you.

“Hey, back off,” he said firmly, grabbing his table knife as though that would defend against Silver's sword fighting skills.

Or Lilia's anything, for that matter, as you realized he stood behind his son with a scary look in his eyes. A look you had experience with. A look that said, behave.

“S/N, don't,” you whispered, not daring to pull away from Silver.

“I'm not going to let him take you!” He stood from his seat, causing Silver's eyes to flicker over to him, and grow soft with fondness.

“You're all grown up!”

“Back off-”

“That's enough of that. I appreciate your loyalty, but it would be better suited elsewhere,” Lilia finally spoke, disarming your boy.

“Let go of me-”

“Father, please don't-”

“It's alright, Silver. I've raised two boys, I know how to handle a tantrum,” Lilia said lightly, pinning your son's arms to his sides. “As for you, young man, that's no way to speak to your father, or your grandfather.”

“We're not even related!” He shouted, and it was only then you realized the cafe was empty. They had planned this. Or, more accurately, Lilia had planned this, and probably surprised Silver.

“Enough. I'm putting you in timeout.”

He summoned a portal, and dragged your son towards it.

He turned back towards Silver with a firm look on his face, “Silver. Remember what I taught you.” And then he walked through the portal.

Silver held out a hand for you, and you swallowed your bile as you took it. You walked through the portal together, and found yourself in Silver’s room in the Castle in the Valley of Thorns.

He released your hand, dissipated the portal, and went to lock the door. You took the opportunity to sit on the bed.

Silver sighed as he stared at the floor.

“Father says that if I want to keep you in my life, I have to be more firm.”

He looked back up at you, something new swimming in his eyes. Something that frightened you.

“I don't want to hurt you. But today, seeing you for the first time in so long, I realized he was right.”

The frightening look wavered for a moment, as he said, “Why did you make my son hate me? Do you not think I'd be a good father?”

You sighed, remembering how easy it was to fall prey to Silver's everything. “If it were just you I had to worry about, I know you'd be a great father.”

“Then why…” the look cemented back into frightening again, and he stood stiffly, like a general deciding whether to spare an enemy soldier.

“I've given you a good life, a husband, and a family, but you are taking it for granted. You need to learn to appreciate what you have.”

That was all Lilia. Maybe if you had run away with Silver, you might have saved the last embers of your love for him. But then you might also be killed.

“I have arranged a cell in the dungeon for you. It's comfortable, but isolated. You will stay there until you learn your place.”

You fought to escape his grip as he dragged you down the stairs, pleading with him to see reason. But it was too late, and when the door was latched behind you, you couldn't help but wish you'd thought to try things differently.

You couldn't imagine how it took so long for him to find you. But as you and your son ran in the night, you wished it had been longer.

Ten minutes prior, you'd gotten a call from a wheezing voice you almost didn't recognize.

“Sebek…he…he's coming.”

“Lilia? What are you talking about? Where did you get my number?”

You heard a hard cough, followed by a tired laugh. “Who did you think was your fairy godmother? Run Y/N.”

The call hung up, and you grabbed a bag to start packing, only to hear a loud bang as your front door splintered. Your son had wanted to fight him off, but bless his heart he'd never win. So you'd both escaped out a window and ran.

You knew he was much too fast for you, but your son was fae as well, so he had a chance of getting away. And if you could just wear Sebek out…

You screamed out in pain as you felt something pierce you from behind.

You collapsed to your knees, staring down at the sword poking through your chest.

“No!” Your son screamed, and you choked back the pain long enough to say, “keep running!”

He looked at you regretfully, then angrily stared at something over your shoulder.

“I'll kill you!” He shouted, before running off, and disappearing down an alley.

You swayed from the position on your knees, your vision growing spotty. You turned over your shoulder, vaguely aware of a green haired man staring at you in shock.

Oh. That was Sebek! You had a date today, right? You didn't feel so good though, so maybe you should tell him you had to cancel.

“I… I didn't mean to,” he cried shakily, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. You collapsed again, this time not having the strength to get off your side. He knelt next to you, and felt a sharp pain from something pulling. He laid you on your back, and pressed his hands to your chest, muttering something you couldn't quite hear. His voice sounded like water, moving in and out of your ears.

“Y/N…..don…please…I”

You nodded like you understood.

His hands came to cup your face. It must be raining, because his hands were all wet. You'd have to make sure Grim remembered to grab an umbrella before class.

You slowly lifted your hand to cup Sebek 's hands that were clutching your face. His cheeks were covered in raindrops, and he seemed to be trying to tell you something important. But you were so tired, it was hard to keep your eyes open.

You had a final moment of clarity, where you stared at Sebek 's broken face, and felt momentary pity for him. But maybe this would teach him something that he would never forget over the course of his long life.

And you thought of your wonderful son escaping this creature, and the black finally completely took your vision.

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