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lovifie · 1 day

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Simon “I Will Never Be A Father” Riley, and how he ended up with a football team worth of kids.

CW: Like 2k words of fluffy Simon, and then 1k words of filth, massive breeding kink, creampie, disgusting sext talk mess. Enjoy! 🩷

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It's not his fault, it's yours.

He met you really early in both of your careers, before either of you had really any important ranks, nor years of experience.

But a mission together to recollect some intel was enough for the two of you to learn each other's names.

It was back when rage still blinded more of Simon's senses, the loss of her family still recent. But you didn't know, obviously, and he wouldn't tell you.

During that mission, he would constantly snap at you, unnecessary remarks and barks at you whenever you would ask something.

Not that you would back down because of the overgrown chihuahua, usually just shouting back and ignoring him. Letting him to simmer in his guilty feelings.

But the time together helped to learn what buttons to press and when to act as if you hadn’t seen something, and by the time you made it back to base, to your different units; you said goodbye shaking hands and saying: “Nice to meet you, Riley. Don't die.”

He didn't say it back, but he felt it more.

Years went by before he saw you again, and after a while, he simply assumed you did in fact, die.

He was higher in his career, already being respected by most and always addressed as Ghost. The rage of his past was already on a secondary level.

More mature, more knowledgeable, more experienced.

But for some reason, he couldn't forget you. He had come across so many different people who would back down just for him looking at them, yet when he screamed at you, you didn't let him win.

He missed you.

He would never admit it, but he missed the girl he met on that mission those years back. Maybe if he had said it back you would be alive.

Maybe.

“Riley?!” An unmistakable voice asks, radiant with happiness from his back.

He turns around, eyes wide open looking for the source, for the girl he met so long ago, for the girl he thought had died.

But he sees you.

The woman, on the same rank as his, grown, more mature, more knowledgeable and more experienced.

Scars and wounds adorning your body just like his.

“What is that mask, Riley?” You ask, smiling widely. “You turned emo?!”

You laugh loudly as you finally walk up to him, an awkward position of not knowing how to say hi after so long apart.

“Aye, didn't want people falling in love with me like you did.” He says, completely baffling but still hoping it was true.

“Argh.” You say, rolling your eyes as you slap his arm. “Well, excuse me, lover boy. Didn't know you have spent all this time fighting the ladies.”

There hasn't been any ladies. Not after you. He realises it in that moment.

“It's the uniform.” He explains, a stupid smug smirk under the mask. “And you? What have you been up to?”

“The usual, learned German, I knit now, killed a couple of hundred terrorists, and got my flying licence!” You enunciate, slightly jumping with the last.

He doesnt realizes that the mask is not covering his eyes, and that no matter how cold and stoic he tries to act; you can see clearly as day the affection and happiness from seeing you again.

This time, when you say goodbye, you keep each other numbers. A way to stay in contact, to check once a month if you are still alive.

But again, time goes by before meeting in person again.

And when it happens, Ghost is already on the 141; and it's not him the one that sees you first.

“We are having a surprise guest on the next operation.” Price says one morning while they are having breakfast. “She’s from another base, but has an amazing resume. She's a lieutenant too. And with an ugly character, like you” He says, pointing at Ghost.

And he knows it's you.

It gotta be.

And a couple of days later, when you enter the mess hall; walking behind him and slapping the back of his head, he is elated.

“I knew I was smelling trash.” You say, looking down on him. Barely a bit taller than him when he is seated.

He turns his body, resting his arm around your hips. “How long are going to be following me for, ya rat?”

“Hmm, not my fault you can't do your fucking job, useless bitch.” You say with a smile on your face as you rest your arm over his shoulders.

“Well, somebody gotta take out the trash, you cunt.” He says, a smug smile on his face.

“Aww, are you telling me to take you out, lover boy?” You say, resting your hand on your chest. That makes him bark a laugh, patting your side after, before saying. “I'm glad to see you are still in one piece, idiot.”

“The feeling is mutual, dickhead.”

And that was the first time that Simon’s hand was resting on your hips, but definitely not the last.

The first mission together with the 141 was an absolute shit show, everything that could have gone wrong… went wrong. And if it wasn't because of your stubbornness, it would have been Simon’s last mission.

Being trapped under debris, unable to get out of the burning building. Everyone was already out, only him inside, talking on the radio to tell the team to leave him behind.

Except you, who managed to slip through Price's orders and run into the obvious death trap. Able to take the debris keeping Simon trapped with his help, both of you using the extra strength that only comes out in emergencies. Unknowingly, both of you going to the extreme of your resistance to make sure the other didn't die inside the building.

And when he was in the hospital bed, days later, and you came to visit him, and you leaned forward and kissed him. It was the first kiss, but not the last one.

The two of you, already adults perfectly functional, able to instruct armies, take down terrorist organisations, and yet… it was not until 8 months after the first kiss that one of you managed to ask the other out.

“The team were going out for drinks tonight, but they bailed… do you want to go still? The two of us?”

To this day, Simon still believes it was his doing that the two of you went alone to the pub, and you still have not had the heart to tell him it was you the one who asked Price, Soap and Gaz to tell him they couldn't go.

And once the door was opened, everything went smoothly and easily. Not bothering to call the relationship in any way, as if the two of you haven't been exclusive to the other from the first moment you met.

Still, even more time went on before something more than kisses went down. Until the two of you went on separate missions, months spent apart from each other, only to reach base again at the same time.

And as if you had planned, you walked to each other room. Meeting exactly in the middle and jumping into each other arms.

Not that anyone else on the team had doubts about what went on between the two of you, but still was a surprising view. And you pulled Simon by his hand inside of his room, every doubt crumb was erased.

And once it started, everything else went in a blur. By the time you took notice, the two of you were already married for a couple of years, the honeymoon phase was still strong, and expecting your first child.

And Simon, who had always promised he would never have kids, now was obsessed with your pregnant self. During the pregnancy, he couldn't keep his hands away from your body.

Constantly feeling you up, every inch of skin, from your hips, to your breast, to your tummy. Completely obsessed and enamoured with your body, changing and adjusting to bear his child. His big-ass child. That had you wabling from the second trimester.

He missed the birth, away on a mission when you were in your seventh month. Promising the mission would last a week, but he didn't take a step into your house until three months later. He didn't look Price at his face for weeks after the due date passed.

The worst part was that there was no communication with you, complete radio silence. Again, like so many years ago; you could be dead and he wouldn't know.

And when the plane landed, he took the quickest shower of his life. Because the worst case scenario was coming home to an empty house, but the worst second was holding his child for the first time with the blood of his enemies still on his hands. He wouldn't taint such an innocent thing.

The door almost fell from the hinges when he entered, eyes looking through the house. Breathing only because he could see light from the bedroom, and then you walked out of the room.

Looking at him with tears on your eyes as you run to him, jumping on his arms and getting crushed by his hug. Muttering apologies as he kissed your head, he still has not forgiven himself for failing you that day.

You shake your head, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom. He freezes on his spot, as if he just remembered that he had a child; your abdomen way flatter than when he left.

“C’mon, Si… Do you not want to meet your son?”

A son.

He had a son.

He followed you into the room, unable to say a word as he saw the tiny human sleeping in the middle of the bed.

He walked behind you, waiting for instructions, his brain struggling to work normally. You tell him to sit down, picking the baby to lay him on his arms. The father finally holding his son for the first time.

And when the baby exhaled a satisfied sigh at the warmth pooling from Simon’s body, the first tear rolled down his cheek.

He didn't sleep that night, it didn't matter that he had barely been able to sleep the weeks before, he couldn't pull his eyes away from the baby. So that night, he stayed seated, with the baby on his arms and with you sleeping by his side.

The happiest night of his life.

He finally took his parental leave, almost smashing the phone against the wall when Price called him; even though it was to congratulate him.

And Simon, who always had believed he would never have kids, now had one. And that might have been the first child he had, but it was definitely not the last one.

Because a couple of weeks later, when the two of you went to base; to introduce the baby to his teammates, Simon couldn't stop thinking about how good you looked with his child strapped to your body.

His little head resting over your full breasts, sleeping and perfectly unaware of every problem in the world. But Simon couldn't stop looking at your chest, body changed to bear and care for his child; it was only fair he paid back.

So when Gaz asked if he could hold the baby, it was Simon who helped you take the baby out of the little koala backpack; letting him hold it.

And with a weak excuse, took you to his bedroom. Barely managing to close the door before bending you over his desk, pulling your pants down and stuffing your cunt with his thick fingers. Giving you barely any prep before the strain on his hardening shaft was too much for him to keep it away from your soaked cunt. Groaning in your ear as he thrusts fast and hard into your sweet pussy, rubbing your clit with his fingertip making you cling into the desk.

“Such a good fucking mama you are.” He moans into your ear. “Driving me fucking crazy every time I look at you, so fucking beautiful, so fucking breathtaking, darling.”

Half of what he says doesn't make sense and the other half you can't even hear from over the sounds of the moans.

“Gonna fuck you full of my child again, gonna keep you barefoot and pregnant, mama.” He moans again, kissing your neck from behind as his free hand keeps roaming your body, needing to feel more and more of you. “Looking like a bloody goddess with my child, gonna keep fucking you until it fucking catches, and then again, and again, and again… Do you want that, mama? Do you want it as much as me?”

“Fuck, yes!” You moan back, just as fuck out as him. The unforgiving pace pushing the breath out of your lungs, your legs barely able to hold your weight but it's not like Simon would let you fall.

More and more words and promises keep falling from Simon's mouth, making it hard for your orgasm to take any longer to wash over you.

But then Simon turns you around, laying you on your back and pulling your legs up, your knees beside your head; before he starts to thrust into you again, his happy trail rubbing against your clit.

“Gonna make it catch, gonna fuck you so deep it is not even going to spill. Gonna get you fucking pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna go away for a fucking second. Gotta give the little shit a sibling, ah?”

The stretch of your legs being pulled so back into your head making it almost uncomfortable if you were able to think at the moment. Your hands grabbing into his forearms to steady yourself.

“The best fucking mama in the world you are, ah? Taking such good care of him.” He groans, engulfing your boob with his enormous hand. “Getting these tits fucking massive just for him, fucking little shit don't know how lucky he is to get such a good fucking moma.”

And you are ashamed to admit it, but the disgusting praises are enough to throw you over the edge; your head falling back against the desk with a loud cry of his name.

“Fucking hell, darling.” He groans just like you. “That's it, choke my fucking cock, love. Milk it dry, suck it in. Fuck! Such a fucking perfect cunt, I would fucking live here. Sucking me in so good, such a greedy fucking cunt. I'm gonna fuck you so deep, I'm gonna give you twins, darling.”

And he doesn't give you time to breathe, his hips slapping hard against yours making you mewl at the overstimulation. Clenching down at the prolonged orgasm.

You hear him groan over your exhausted body. “Fuuuck… Shit, love. Yeah… just like that, take it in, love, take it in. Hold it in, don't let it go to waste love.”

You fill him spill deep inside of you, pulling your legs impossibly higher lifting your butt off the desk, bending you in half with your cunt completely exposed.

“Such a beautiful fucking cunt.” He says before leaning down, kissing your clit as if he was pecking your lips, only for him to literally make out with your cunt. Making you hiss and pull his hair back to make him stop and be able to breathe for a second.

He pulls his head back, only to accumulate the saliva and arousal on his mouth and spit it back over your cunt making you shudder. He lowers your legs, impaling you back on his still hard shaft, pulling the breath from your lungs once more.

“There you go, mama. Stuffed and plugged, so there is no risk.” He says, letting your legs rest down as he moves his hands to each side of your hips, pushing you impossibly closer to him, hitting as deep as he has ever reached. Slightly moving you up and down so your clit rubs against his pelvic bone, making you whine as you clench around him.

“Simon… Si, I need to fucking breathe.” You whine, trying to grab his hand.

“Nah, you got this…” He says without looking at your face, completely hypnotised by the way your folds part to take his cock in. “You are doing amazing, sweetheart.”

Is only hours later, that Simon comes out of his room. Clothes changed, showered and without you (who is currently sleeping on his bed, too exhausted to even stay awake), and he walks up to the mess hall, where he assumed the boys are.

Picking his beloved son from his captain's hands. “There you are, my boy.” He says softly, picking up the baby that looks ridiculously small in his arms. “Time for bed.”

“Oi, LT!” Soap calls him. “So when is his sibling being born?”

He looks at Soap, his expression changing to a stern one. “Don't be disgusting, Johnny. That's my family you are talking about, have some decency”.

Taglist:

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@thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock

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@rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting

@dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708

@katreintjie @sacvh @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr

@yuki2129 @mikaronn @idk-justkane @shanhalen @thatoneslvt

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sexlapis · 6 months

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i only see you

⤷ cw : jealousy, doubt, a little bit of arguing, angst to fluff but not too bad :)

actor! toji x gn actress/actor! reader

a/n: i decided to put these two asks together. great minds think alike!

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

you regret coming here.

arms crossed, lips downward, and brows so furrowed that they basically cast a shadow over your eyes as you watched toji and his…co-worker from afar.

toji was played a minor role in quite a popular tv series and that popular tv series included a..love interest. now of course, toji asked you first if it was okay - he would’ve never agreed to the role if it made you sad or uncomfortable. being the good partner that you were, not wanting to limit his career choices because of your own feelings, you easily gave him permission to do so.

you’re starting to regret that too.

the actress is so obviously into him, which of course wouldn’t have been a problem if toji wasn’t your boyfriend. she has been like this all of the times you have visited toji on set. you two haven’t decided to go public yet, but god right this second, you wish you had.

and she is gorgeous. tall, long and silky brown hair, bright green eyes, a model-like visage…you attempt to push down that nasty feeling of jealousy that builds up inside of you, but it’s useless. you hated seeing this, really. and if you are honest with yourself, you’d admit that you never want toji to take any acting roles where he would have a love interest, because you hated seeing toji being lovey dovey with another person. even if it was just ‘acting’.

toji sits in his directors chair on his phone while the model stands besides him, speaking. you can’t hear what they’re saying, but she’s clearly trying to look attractive for him - twirling her hair, discreetly pushing her cleavage together, biting and licking her lips…you know your boyfriend was hot but god, does she have to be so obvious? it made you kind of sick.

and then she does something unbelievable.

the model runs her finger up toji’s bicep, circling around him like he’s prey to stand behind where he sits and starts massaging his shoulders.

your jaw is basically on the floor at this point, shocked at her audacity (even thought she is doing this under the assumption that toji is a single man).

toji eyes widen a little, and he looks a little awkward. and then he looks up at her and smiles.

smiles?

your eyes wander around and you see that the crew members are also looking at this little display of…whatever the hell it was. they whisper amongst themselves, taking small glances at where you stand and you decide you’ve seen enough, already embarrassed enough, you leave the set without saying goodbye to toji. you want nothing more than to return home to the comfort of your apartment.

౨ৎ

it’s the next day and you haven’t spoken to toji since that..incident.

you decide to distract yourself with baking, reading, crocheting, painting, all of your hobbies to make you forget about what happened yesterday.

sure, you could just speak to toji, but this has happened twice now, so you think you have the right to give toji a little silent treatment.

you’re laying on your couch reading a booking when your phone buzzes on the coffee table. sighing, you pick it up, unlocking it. there’s a message from your friend shoko.

————

shoko

[link] ???????????

————

you hesitantly click on the link, lowkey scared for what it is. it’s a celebrity news article from a few hours ago, talking about how toji and his new co-worker are dating.

“inside sources have told us that toji and his co-worker, a model playing his love interest, are dating! sorry tojiyn lovers, your ship has sank!”

it’s mocking wording pisses you off and makes your eye twitch. no matter how long you have been famous for, the lies of the media are something you will never get used to.

————

shoko

it’s already trending on twitter…

————

that sets you off and you throw your phone across the room, screaming in your hands.

it was probably those crew members, you thought bitterly.

there is a knock at your door. that’s odd, you weren’t expecting any visitors or packages today.

sighing, you walk over the door but not before looking through the peephole first. the sight has you huffing.

you open the door and there stands toji.

“you ready to talk to me now or what?” he asks in his usual brash, straightforward manner.

you’re already walking away to the kitchen to make yourself tea, leaving the door open as an unspoken invitation. “wow, not even a ‘hello?’ she really has changed you, huh?”

“what?” toji walks to where you are, careful not to make any sudden movements that would piss you off more than you already are, “who’s she? what the hell are you talking about?”

you grunt, setting the water to boil and taking your favourite mug out. you turn to retrieve a teabag but toji is cornering you, pressing and trapping you against the counter.

“ugh, toji!” you groan, trying to escape his arms for barriers but he doesn’t budge.

“no.” he says firmly before taking on a softer tone. “talk to me..please.”

crossing your arms, you lean back on the counter and look at the floor. “what’d you wanna know?”

“i wanna know why you ain’t talkin’ to me.”

“i don’t know why don’t you go ask your new girlfriend!” you shout, ashamed to admit that a few tears formed in your eyes after that outburst of yours.

“my new-? _____, what are you…oh…this is about her.”

“her who?!” you almost shout again, impatient and throwing your arms around. “the one who you let just fucking touch you and massage you all the time?”

“oh, baby.” toji sighs, cupping your face, wiping the tears that you didn’t even know started to fall. “i know, i know. i shoulda told her to cut it out way sooner than i did..jus’ didn’t wanna make shit weird on set. but that don’t matter, i shoulda done it to make you feel okay..’m sorry..”

you hum, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. you missed his touch even thought it had only been a day.

i’m so lame.

toji hugs you and you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your face on his pectoral.

“..and i did tell her i’m with someone.” you look up, afraid he told her about your relationship. “i didn’t tell ‘er it was you, don’t worry. ‘said she was sorry and won’t push any boundaries.”

“…you believe her?” you ask, honestly doubtful and still a little jealous because of that whole fiasco.

“well, ‘m just gonna have to.” he kissing the top of you head before pulling your face away from his chest, making you look up at him. “but hey, you don’t gotta worry about anythin’ like that, sweetie. seriously. i only have eyes for you. nobody else. i…i only love you.. believe that.”

“toji..” you warble, pushing your face into his chest again.

toji chuckles, face a little red due to his own words and speaks again. “but you gotta promise me you’ll just talk to me if i do somethin’ that makes you sad, okay? i don’t wanna go around pissin’ my girlfriend off all the time.”

you laugh, sniffling. “yes, i promise.”

toji smiles down at you, kissing your forehead. you both stand there embracing each other for a few moments before he decides to break the silence.

“why don’t you make toji some tea too? ♡.”

a teabag is thrown in his face.

a/n i enjoyed writing this one a lot <3

#actor!toji #📫.toji #pls tell me if i forgot to tag u i’m not used to having a tag list #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro fluff #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you

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taintedcigs · 1 month

Text

— if you're feeling lucky

pairing: fwb!eddie munson x f!reader

summary: friends with benefit never ends well... or does it? based on this prompt by @dumplingsjinson (wc: 1.2k+)

warnings: just absolute fluff, maybe tiny angst, and a kiss, and thats it, oh and my shitty writing.

author's note: ignore the corny summary im lazy. the title has no meaning i just luv that song omfg. not proofread. based on this lovely request i got from angel @voyeurmunson i hope i did it justice i am so very rusty!!!! and the ending is rushed i AM SORRY

pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

You knew this would eventually happen. You agreed to this stupid "arrangement" knowing that this would be the outcome.

Just because you couldn't keep your feelings in check. Just because the two of you kissed hazily one night, minds filled with each other and the cheap weed Eddie provided. Like a knot that had been waiting to be undone, unraveling, so quickly, fading just as much—if not more quicker.

You should've seen it coming.

From the way your last rendezvous ended, when you accidentally kissed him goodbye on his way home. It was a simple, honest mistake.

Or was it?

The two of you had a set of rules; fucking with no feelings attached, make sure none of it got in the way of your friendship. It was supposed to be simple.

But that goodbye kiss was intimate, more than just fucking, and much more than your stupid friendship.

His cheeks burned a salmon pink, your plushy lips tainting his with something he had never experienced before; pure affection. Making him splutter, almost tripping on his way out of your house.

You barely registered what you did when he finally left, too enamored to even notice. Your son-of-a-bitch subconscious playing its tricks on you, feelings acting out before your logic can even kick in.

Stress ate away at you, but you assumed he wouldn't make a big deal of it. That this wouldn't ruin anything. He would forget this by Monday.

By the time he ignores your fifth call, and even goes as far as to avoid you in town, you start to blame your poor assumption skills. Try to ignore the insecure feelings that churn in your stomach.

Anger replaces those thoughts in an instant, because how could he just fucking end things without even talking to you?

Did he not even like you as a friend anymore?

Did one kiss really disgust him this much?

A lump sits in your throat at the unanswered questions, anxiety seeping through your skin, eating away at your organs, consuming you.

And after hours of endless anxious thoughts rummaging through your mind—and a long talk with your girlfriends where they urged you to talk to him, you end up at his door, arms crossed against your chest, wearing a scowl.

He opens the door with a bewildered gaze, your name falling softly from his lips, like a prayer, devoid of the lewdness it held than the last time you saw him. Much more affectionate, shattering your heart in every way possible.

"What is your problem?" You don't mean to go all out on him, especially when looks this good, bittersweet gaze meeting yours, tousled curly hair framing his face just in the way that has your heart skipping a beat.

"W—what?" He splutters.

You brush past him in a fury, "do you hate me now or something?" Your anger doesn't hold the same weight anymore, tone now laced with insecurity, a sadness that finds its way into your skin.

You don't let him talk, "do you realize how fucking childish this is? Ignoring my calls? Avoiding me?" He watches the way your brows quirk when you explain yourself, teeth pulling on your bottom lip worry, he wants to kiss it, your thoughts, worries away.

"That's not—"

"You could've just talked to me if—if you had any problem, ignoring me is fucked up."

Plushy lips open to speak, to explain himself, but you don't let him, fluttering your thick lashes at him, rambling on and getting more and more upset each time you spoke, tugging at his heartstrings, making him want to slap himself for being the source of your worries.

"We could've just talked this out, you know? W—we could've set up clearer boundaries and uh—" You were growing more and more frustrated, words getting mashed together with how emotional you were being.

"Will you let me—"

Again, you didn't let him speak, wanting to get it all out, knowing that this might've been the last time you spoke to him. Ever.

Your lip wobbled at the thought. "I—I just... 'm sorry, I broke the rules, okay? I—I swear it won't happen again, I don't want our friendship to be—"

"I can't be friends with you anymore!" He breathed, tone loud enough to startle you, the weight of his words taking a while to sink in.

You gulped, physically, mind too hazy to register what he said, that horrible feeling caging your chest, eating up the words that are unable to leave your lips. "Oh... uh—uhm, o—okay." You nervously nip at your nails, not knowing what to do.

"I can't do this anymore, either." He adds, pointing toward the space between the two of you, and you're unable to meet his gaze, too scared. The tears begging to be let out.

"Why—" You take a deep breath before you continue, prying your gaze from his stupid wooden floors, and back into those swirly caramel hues, now big enough to hypnotize you. Softening you in seconds. "Why not?"

"Fuck..." He mumbles, this time he's the nervous one, cheeks flushed with the prettiest pink all over. Fingertips trace against your features, settling on your cheekbones, and you let him. "Because I'm starting to get greedy, sweetheart."

Hope gnaws at your insides, the way something flashes in his gaze has you healing all over, the hold both of you have over each other is strong enough to gravitate you, yet both of you are too dumb to see it, notice it.

Until now.

"I can't just have that and be okay with it... I want—fuck that, I need more," He grumbles, desperate, a silent plea. Your mouth grows dry, lashes fluttering heavily to process it, the world stops spinning on its axis at the implication of his words.

"I need you." You can't help the way your gaze turns mellow, melting into his touch, everything you craved, and more, right in front of you.

A little taste of heaven.

Rolling your eyes playfully, plushy lips stretching into the prettiest smile, followed by a giggle—a heavenly sound he decides he can't fucking live without. "You absolute idiot," you breathe with a shake of your head.

"You didn't think to tell me that? Were you just gonna pull away? Bury your feelings away?"

He mocks a thinking face, "I'd write a few songs about it too, probably." Grin growing wider the more he looks at you, barely registering what the fuck is going on. That you even showed up at his door. That you're even entertaining the idea of being with him.

He's at the palm of your hand, and you don't even know it.

"Idiot."

Pushing a palm over his chest dramatically, he tilts his head in a manner that has you wanting to squeeze his cheeks. "An idiot you like back?"

"Unfortunately." His lips downturn, an exaggerated pout that has your smile stretching.

"An idiot I like too much that it's embarrassing," you add with a scrunch of your nose, a gesture Eddie wants to worship, want to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your face.

"I'll take embarrassing," he whispers, licking his lips before leaning in. You stare at his parted lips a millisecond longer, before pulling him by his stupid Hellfire shirt, pressing your lips hotly against his.

Eddie only freezes for a second before his instincts take over, a groan rumbling in the back of his throat, deepening the kiss, lips parting to taste you, fully, completely.

Only breaking the kiss once you consumed him, lazy smirk sitting on his lips, “Told ya we couldn’t be friends anymore,” he teases, that pretty dimple sitting on his cheeks. “Shut up,” you reply with a giggle, interrupting him before he can observe your features and try to drown you in compliments, fisting his shirt once again and pressing your plushy lips against his.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson drabbles #eddie munson fluff

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gyuwoncheol · 7 months

Text

Worth It

Pair: Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: Smut smut smut. Pwp. Fiancé!Mingyu, established relationship. 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: Basically what happens when you tell Mingyu you’re his for the whole night.

Warnings: Mingyu in a white button down (this deserves a warning, yes), pwp, slight soft dom!Mingyu, very brief mention of dying but more as an expression, marking, oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected piv sex (stay safe, children), wall sex, fingering, hand job, multiple orgasms, cum eating, brief light spanking, biting (it's actually just nipping), light anal rimming, squirting, overstimulation, use of color system, dirty talk, praise, use of pet names (good girl, greedy girl, baby), Gyu actually being really sweet if you look at the tiny details, mention of a married Jeonghan, speeding while driving (do NOT do this). Please let me know if I missed something!

WC: 3.5k

Author’s Note: I was working on 2 other wips when Mingyu just wouldn’t leave me alone. This is the result of that. Not my best work and not thoroughly proofread. But it is what it is. I just really needed to get this out of my system because the man is killing me. My inbox is very much open if you wanna thirst on Gyu with me!

Smut directly under the cut

“Gyu, if you keep touching me like that, i’m gonna wanna suck you off” you warned, swatting your fiancé’s hand away from your thigh

“I don’t see why that’s a problem” He shrugged happily, knuckles gripping onto the steering wheel tighter, excited at your proposition

“It’s a problem because you always close your eyes when you cum. You’re going to crash the car. I’d like to get fucked tonight, not die in an accident”

Mingyu laughed at your statement, not even disagreeing in the slightest bit. Yes you were both horny, but safety always came first, especially when it came to you. He wasn’t so sure what came over you. One moment you were both happily celebrating the wedding of your friends, and the next, you were whispering the dirtiest things in his ear during what he thought would be a romantic slow dance with you on the dancefloor.

Who could blame you though? Your fiancé looked every bit of scrumptious in his white button down today, plus he perfectly played his role of doting fiancé through the night: always holding your hand, always keeping you in his line of sight in the rare moments you two were separated, and always whispering 'i love you's'. He tried to be nice and not rush out the wedding venue right after the dance, and he succeeded for a while, but as the party drew on, it was getting more difficult to hide his boner so he practically dragged you to the car whilst waving a quick goodbye to your friends.

"It's not my fault you're getting me riled up the whole night" he reasoned

"It's also not my fault I'm engaged to the sexiest man in the world"

Mingyu raised his brow at you whilst stopped at a red light, "it kinda is though... You did say yes when I proposed"

"Then you better show me it was worth it" You challenged

Just as the lights turned green, Mingyu could feel his dick twitch in his pants and he swore he never pressed on that gas pedal faster than he did.

He couldn't even wait for you to unlock your doors before he was already kissing down your neck, his whole body pressed onto your back so you could feel his hard on. The feeling of his wet tongue on your burning skin had you fiddling for the wrong keys "Gyu! Slow down! I need to get us in" You pleaded with your source of distraction, "I'm yours the whole night, just let me get our keys right"

"That's funny, you definitely weren't telling me to slow down or wait longer while you whispered all those things on the dance floor... But I will take you up on the offer of having you all night. That is noted" he said the last sentence in a low growl, sending chills down your spine.

Thankfully, the right key finally clicked and your door flew wide open. Mingyu drove you to the closest wall, your head lightly thumping against the hard surface.

"shit! sorry baby" Mingyu's eyes grew wide, his hand immediately reaching over to the back of your head, worried he had just hurt you.

You couldn't even care less, pushing your lips back on his for another kiss but Mingyu stopped you with his free hand, keeping you at half an arm's length. "No, no. I need to know. Are you okay?"

You saw just how quickly his eyes went from horny to caring and it got you even more turned on.

"I'm okay baby, hardly even felt it" You rushed out, reaching for his neck to draw you closer to his lips again. This time, with his full cooperation.

It was everything but calm and collected. Mingyu didn't even leave you any room to fight for dominance as his tongue explored your mouth feverishly.

He groaned when he felt your nails scratch lightly at his chest, his buttons now all undone and giving you access to his tanned skin. You slowly made your way through his chest, leaving love bites where you could and stripping him off the shirt. When your knees hit the floor, you excitedly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his black slacks, exposing his very hard cock that was fighting for release from the confines of his boxers which you eventually freed.

His angry tip momentarily brushed your lips as it sprang up against his stomach and Mingyu let out a moan from the brief contact. He just about died when you gently held his shaft, your tongue sticking out and just centimeters away from where he wanted you. It was as if time stopped for Mingyu. If he just knew where his phone was, he would have definitely memorialized this in a photo.

Mingyu's precum was right there and you just needed to taste it, swiping your tongue fully on his tip before swirling it around him. You heard him curse which only prodded you even more, your thumb gently pressing down on where your tongue was just a few seconds ago as you slowly started to pump him up and down with both hands. The harder you worked him up, the more precum oozed out of him and everytime it did, you repeated the motion of pressing down on his tip before twisting your hands on his length.

"Fuck baby, pleaseee" His voice strained. There was something about seeing that diamond ring on your finger as it wrapped around his cock that always got him in a mess

"Hm?" you blinked innocently, looking up at him through your lashes

"Mouth.. Tongue.. Please, I—" He stuttered and that was all you needed to finally get your lips wrapped around him, sucking with a fervor that had your fiance's eyes rolling to the back of his head. The taste of him sending a gush of wetness between your legs.

Mingyu's mouth hung wide open, letting every whimper and moan come out in full volume as you slowly took more of his length with every bob of your head. You retracted when you were half way through, making sure your tongue was dragging on the underside of his cock to add to the sensation. A string of saliva connecting your lips to his dick.

"Been wanting this the whole night" you mumbled before letting more of your saliva drool onto his cock, earning a groan from your fiancé

You pumped him several more times with your hand before your mouth took him in again. This time, you took your time swirling your tongue and sucking him in, slowly making sure you were able to stuff as much of him down your throat.

"Babyy— fuck, k-keep going" He encouraged. His large hand still behind your head, not pushing but also not letting you move away.

You relaxed your jaw more and willed yourself to breathe through your nose. You moaned when he hit the back of your throat and it set goosebumps all over his body, a strained call of your name reverberating through the walls of your house. Your fingers covered what the rest of your mouth couldn’t and you synced your movements enough to have Mingyu jerking in no time

"So fucking good. Swallowing me so well"

Your tongue continued to move back and forth on the underside of his cock while your throat continued to spasm and your hand played with his balls. When you had adjusted well enough, you squeezed his right thigh to indicate you were good to go and he could fuck your face.

And fuck your face, he did.

With your mouth open wide and tongue sticking out, your fiancé went to town. His hand now fisted your hair in a ponytail as his cock continuously rammed through your throat, hitting the back every single time. You thanked yourself for wearing your toughest waterproof makeup and setting spray because at the rate Mingyu was going, you were definitely tearing up and drooling. As his movements stuttered, you held tightly to the back of his thighs so you could swallow as much of him as you can.

Mingyu closed his eyes shut at the feeling of your tight throat squeezing his cock, "Shit, baby I- I'm so c-close"

You moaned one more time, setting him off as his pelvis jerked and you saw his head fall back.with a groan. Thick spurts of his cum coated your throat and it only made you moan against him harder, fully adding onto the stimulation your fiancé was feeling. You swallowed thickly with all he had to give you, milking out Mingyu to the very last drop.

"FUCK" He exhaled, finally stilling you by the shoulders and slipping out. You gasped for air and wiped your face with the back of your hand, a tantalizing smile staring up at Mingyu

He noted how you swallowed him dry and wiped the tears that stained your cheek.

"My good girl.”

You smiled at him, proud of the work you've done and the praise you got. "Your good girl" you repeated

"Cmere" he called, helping you up hastily and trapping you against the wall for the second time that night

His hand found its place again behind your head, cushioning it from the wall, while the other was hiking up your long silky dress.

"Gyu..." You inhaled sharply when his mouth latched onto your collar bone, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. Just then you felt his fingers cup your pussy and you both moaned at the feeling

"Fuck baby, no panties?"

You shook your head, biting your lower lip to contain the cheeky smile forming

"Why didn't you tell me? We could've gone home as soon as Jeonghan said 'I Do'… y/n, you're leaking" Your fiance stated the obvious when he brushed your thighs, not even giving you the chance to answer his question

“All you, Gyu”

You saw his pupils blow out at your statement, a cocky smirk written all over his face, two thick fingers immediately slipping into your wet hole “What’s that?”

“S-shit..” you gasped, “it’s you. All cause of you.” you repeated, body jerking at the way his fingers hooked on your insides

“My good girl already so wet just sucking me off huh? Didn’t even need to touch you to have your sweet pussy soaking"

"oh my go— Oh god"

If the squelching sounds you could hear weren’t enough an indication to how wet you were, surely the slippery sensation in your pussy and thighs were

"Jump" you heard Mingyu demand and you lifted your feet off in no time. His strong arms supporting you by the thighs, his hands just below your pussy where he definitely felt some of your juices dripping. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you were now perfectly sandwiched between the concrete wall and your human wall.

"Mingyu" you mewled, forehead dropping to his shoulder when you felt the tip of his cock slip right into your cunt. Your body involuntarily moved higher but Mingyu was quick enough to pull you down, sheathing a few more inches of his length inside you

"Look at you, so wet, you don't even need prep to take me" He praised, pushing another inch further into you as another strangled moan ripped through your throat

Soon enough, your pussy was contracting against Mingyu's dick, the slight pain present awhile ago was now coming in waves of pleasure for you.

"S'good thing you're soaking baby 'case you're tight pussy's sucking me in so well"

Mingyu couldn't stop whispering dirty things in your ear, prodding you enough until you were exerting all your upper body strength to bounce on his cock. A couple times he would completely slip out with how wet you were but he was always quick enough to sheath himself back into your hole before you could fully whine.

"babyyyy" You moaned, the orgasm suddenly appearing hot in your heels already. "m'close. Please.."

"Please what, m' love?" Mingyu thrusted deeply, hitting your gspot with perfect accuracy. If he hadn't held you so tightly, you were sure you would’ve fallen out��

"Cum... P-please. Please let me cu--" the last word dying in your throat when he fully withdrew his cock only to push it right in with double the force of the last. You were seeing stars and the knot in your stomach was holding on for dear life.

"My good girl wants to cum?"

"YES!" You cried out, "Please.. was good. I w-was good"

Mingyu chuckled, thoroughly enjoying how broken you sounded when begging for release. With a low whisper to your ear, he let you have what you asked for "Let go, baby"

If Mingyu wasn't back to being fully erect awhile ago, then he is now with the way your gummy walls clamped so tightly around him, your orgasm flowing through you as your fiancé moved his body against yours in soft body rolls to help you ride out your orgasm.

"so good, Gyu. So good.. so good" you chanted with hushed tones

When he felt you calm down, Mingyu planted a kiss on your temple telling you to 'hang tight' when he suddenly lifted you off the wall and made large strides to the stairwell of your home, all while still being inside you. In a moment, he opened your bedroom door, stopping at the light switch for you to flick it on.

"Y/n" he called you in a tone that sent shivers down your spine. He was now standing at the edge of your king sized bed, eyes staring deep into your soul. "Dress off" he demanded.

It was only then you realised how he had been fully naked since forever ago while you were still definitely covered in silk and cotton. You threw the material on the floor at the same time Mingyu slipped out of you and threw you to the bed, your body lightly bouncing on the mattress sending you into a giggles

"I love you" you declared to the man still standing tall with his arms crossed at the edge of your bed. Your eyes glanced at his cock that stood against his stomach, still glistening with your slick, before raking up his toned abs and then back to his face.

"I love you baby" Mingyu replied with a smile that boasted his canines

It was romantic really, but only for a few seconds, because when Mingyu saw your cum drip out of your hole, his pointer finger made quick work to scoop it up and plug it back in your hole. The gasp you let out had him flashing you a devilish grin, one you knew all too well.

He lifted your legs slowly, placing them over his shoulders while he maintained eye contact with you, his face inching closer and closer. The smell of your sex just making his dick twitch for the nth time that night. When he deemed himself close enough, he blew cold air on your pussy, enough to make your hips buck up, immediately latching his mouth onto your wet folds. A strangled moan of his name was the first thing he heard, followed by the lewd squelches his mouth made against your cunt.

"Ooohhh my goooood, Mingyuuuuu" you drawled out when his tongue entered your hole, slurping all the cum he had just caught a few seconds ago

He beamed when he finished swallowing your juices, his face lifting up with a toothy grin, "So sweet. All mine" he declared, before licking a fat stripe from your hole to your clit.

Your moans got louder the more he controlled your writhing in bed, not at all caring that you were about to get wrecked with another orgasm with the way his mouth was making out with your pussy: licking through your folds, sucking and swirling on your clit, pumping his tongue in and out of your hole. He felt your fingers run through his hair before harshly pulling at the strands but it only prodded him more. Taking hold of your legs, he raised them forward so you were now folded in half. A growl rumbled through his chest when he saw just how puffy your pussy got from what he did.

Mingyu delivered two light spanks on your ass before he dove back in to nip and suck at your skin before soothing it with his tongue. The feeling of his teeth grazing your inner thigh was a welcomed addition to every sensation you were feeling down there.

"Keep going, Gyu" You panted, "Please"

Your fiancé didn't need to be told twice, making sure he didn't leave any area of your pussy uncovered. Between the light spanking, sucking and nipping, the skin on your thighs were now blooming a bright shade of pink.

He knew you were close when your right leg trembled with a jerk.

"Cmon, baby. Be my good girl and cum for me.."

Your eyes met his briefly before pushing his head down to meet your hip. Your orgasm was right there, you could feel it wanting to fall, to break, but you needed something more you couldn't exactly pin point. You squeezed your breasts with your free hand but to no avail. Your fiance's tongue was slurping from your hole, his nose stimulating your clit, yet it wasn't enough.

"Gyuuu.... So c-close, pleaaase! N-need mo-oore"

It's a good thing Mingyu knew your body more than you did, because the moment you felt his thumb tease the tight rim of your ass, you didn't only cum, you squirted.

“FUCK, YES” Mingyu celebrated

A silent scream racked through your chest, knocking all air out of your lungs. If your ears weren't just ringing so loudly, you would've heard Mingyu moan out more curse words before diving into your cunt to lap up everything he could. In just a few seconds, your back was arching again as you fought to push his mouth off you. Your whole body was shaking from that earth shattering orgasm, your pussy feeling like it was on fire as overstimulation crept in.

Mingyu laced his fingers through your hand but his attempt to ground you was contradicting the words that came out of his mouth.

"Don’t push me away, baby. Thought you needed more? didn't think my good girl was gonna be a greedy one tonight"

He was chuckling at how far gone you were, mumbling incoherent words to him. All he could really make out was the occasional call of his name.

"Baby.." you groaned desperately when you felt him leave light kisses on the knuckles of your hand that he was holding

"Hmm?"

"I—" you stammered, between the wetness of your sheets and your insides still trembling, you weren't really sure how to string words together

"Does my greedy girl want more?" Mingyu's brow raised, the tone in his voice suggesting that he was not done with you yet. You felt his whole body hover over you, a comforting warmth that made you feel safe and loved despite every single dirty thing he was just doing to you.

"You can give me more, right baby?" Your fiancé asked while one hand pumped his hard cock languidly

"you did say I could have you the whole night… you meant that, right?"

Mingyu saw you look at him in a daze, nodding eagerly even though he knew his words were still registering in your brain

"Y/n, baby… color." He cleared out, wanting to make sure you really did want this. He could read you well in moments like this, but even if he did, Mingyu always made sure he heard the words from you.

He saw you pause and he was ready to drop everything, ready to scoop you in a cuddle then run you a warm bath while he changed the sheets. He could care less if he didn't get to cum a second time tonight, at least he had his fair share awhile ago. But he waited patiently for your words.

The silence lingered long enough that he felt like asking the question again, just in case you didn't hear him.

"G-green, Gyu" you choked out, your throat feeling dry as the desert "But... could I get some water, please?" You asked, your face wincing at how difficult it was to form that one sentence alone.

You were sure it had only been two seconds since you asked, yet your fiancé was already helping you sit up, a jug of water with a straw in hand so you could quench your thirst. Mingyu gently cupped your cheek as you drank, his thumb caressing your skin before planting a soft kiss on your forehead

You smiled gratefully at him after drinking probably half the jug, "Thank you, babe"

He drank some water too before settling it down on the floor, and then facing you. The crinkles on his eyes were showing and despite having his hair stick out in odd places, he still was the most handsome man you've laid your eyes on.

"I love you, y/n"

You closed the gap between you, a chaste kiss on his lips despite getting a slight taste of yourself. "I love you, Gyu"

Your hand held the back of his neck, the mischievous glint in your eyes making a reappearance after that necessary water break. Mingyu's devilish grin followed suit too when you uttered your next words, a redeclaration of how this all began.

"I'm yours the whole night."

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drabblesandimagines · 2 months

Text

Been playing a lil' bit of Rebirth and found this in my drafts - dunno if I'll continue it but throwing it out into the world. Sephiroth x female reader (reader is President Shinra's daughter, no spoilers for Rebirth, just your average Sephiroth lore)

You wake up with a start as your book hits the floor with a thud. You’d fallen asleep on the sofa, reading. The only recreational activity you’re permitted these days.

“Hello, little one.”

You must be dreaming. You have to be, because you haven’t heard his voice in five years.

Not since he'd left on a mission - an awkward goodbye on your part at the door of your quarters. He'd pressed a kiss against the back of your hand, ever chivalrous.

But he’s there, towering, in the shadows of the corner, his eyes almost glowing. They said he was dead. You’d played the part of a war widow, despite the fact the two of you weren’t even married when he was killed in action. You were never sure if the wedding was truly going to happen - surely just a PR stunt to boost morale. The war hero and the darling of Shinra. When he hadn't returned, you'd been sent out to endless memorials, dressed head to toe in black, told not to speak, before you secluded yourself to process your grief - or at least that’s what the press releases said when your father or brother had been asked about your rare public appearances.

“I thought you’d be more pleased to see your betrothed.”

“You’re…” You swallow, though your throat remains as dry as it was. “You’re dead.”

Sephiroth steps forward into the dim light of the room and you hear something drip on the floor.

“Am I?” At first, you think he’s scowling at your statement, the fact that you’d think he, of all people, was dead. But within a blink, he’s somehow in front of you, one hand grasping your chin with firm fingers. “What happened to your face?”

“I… displeased the President.”

“He hit you.” It’s not a question. He turns your face to the side, taking in the purple and yellow bruising before tsking. “That won’t do.”

There’s another drip as he releases his hold on your chin.

“It is not as bad as it looks.”

“I do not tolerate others marring my things.”

Drip.

You should be indignant at being referred to as a thing, as his thing - you know you should - but perhaps it’s the shock of him standing before you, as if no time had passed at all, and the odd noise that appears to accompany him. Your eyes are drawn down to his left hand, the source of whatever was dripping on the linoleum. He notices your stare. “Allow me to make introductions. Little one, I’d like you to meet my mother, Jenova.” He holds his hand aloft, now practically beaming and it takes a moment for you to process what you actually see before you. "Mother, meet my soon to be wife." He’s holding a head.

Please do comment if you'd be interested in more!

#ghostdogwrites #sephiroth x reader #sephiroth x you #ffvii x reader #wips

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teabutmakeitazure · 6 months

Text

Dissimulation Continued

>Yan! Mafia! Childe x Fem! Student! Reader (modern au)

>Word count: 4.9k

>a/n: childe "leave your degree and be my wife" tartaglia. i dont think anything in this classifies as yan since its just a continuation of the original story but still tagging that since the original is yan. also, i wrote the beginning during my flight lol

Being housemates with a mafioso isn't a very ideal situation.

First Part

Airports are holes in the fabric of time. Minutes and hours are blurred, the signature beeping sound before the limitless number of announcements causing an odd fogginess in your mind. They're surreal but comforting. You are forever a traveller there, only at the mercy of your own mistakes and mishaps.

A familiar hair colour stands out in the distance, rising above the lake of heads. Your luggage trolley is pushed closer and closer to that lake, but instead of relief, only a subtle feeling of dread settles in. It is true that in airports you are at the mercy of your own mistakes, but it is the same for the outside world. The only difference is that simply existing and being alive is not considered a mistake in the former.

The voice you've been hearing through your phone for the past weeks finally greets you directly from the source. Everything is a blur, your eyes focusing on the person who makes way through the busy crowd to get closer as the sounds become exceedingly loud. Slowly, you stop in your tracks, mind still under the haze of indistinguishable time.

The first to go is your backpack, the item promptly removed from your shoulders. The next is the trolley. Your grip on it is gently loosened, and fingers snap in front of your face to dispel the haze from your mind.

"Earth to [Name]? Hey. You alright? The flight couldn't have been that bad, come on."

Your eyes blink a few times, the background chatter becoming more prominent and the face in front of you being focused on by your vision. Words refuse to form on your tongue, so you have to rely on your actions as a last resort. After closing your mouth with mild embarrassment, your eyes settle on his oversized t-shirt. Bare arms greet you when you look for a sleeve, so you settle with grabbing the side of his shirt instead.

It’s still summer. Of course he’s wearing cap sleeves. The display of what one could easily pass off as clinginess causes him to take a step closer, his arm reaching to wrap around your shoulders. You refuse to directly look him in the eye, but allow the arm to slither around you. ‘I am with this person,’ the arm announces. ‘And we are more than what a first glance can reveal.’

“Are you feeling alright?” The arm pulls you inside a half-hug, the warmth of his body comforting with the smell of familiar cologne. “Did something happen?”

A shake of your head is all you can manage, but it is not accepted.

“Hey,” voice low, the arm around you travels upwards to gently run up and down your head. “Tell me. We’ve talked about this. Don’t hide anything from me. I only want to help.”

To yield and share your feelings with someone such as him is not easy, but you do so anyway, surprised at how easily you were able to speak. “It’s something silly,” you say, eyes glued to the floor. “I just miss home.”

The arm strokes your back comfortingly. There is more than just comfort in his voice. There is sympathy. “I understand.” Commiseration drips from his tone, a hint of melancholy behind the way he holds you closer. “We’ll get through it. Don’t worry.”

The hand grabbing the shirt is now wrapped with another, the warmth from both palms and the touch more noticeable than you would have preferred. Calluses are barely felt, but you know they are there. You saw them in detail right before you left for home. How could you ever forget?

With the other free hand, the trolley is pushed along as both of you walk to the exit. You say goodbye to the building and the odd feeling of time passing inside it. A familiar routine and life is welcomed in its stead, but the welcome is short lived.

You both have stopped walking.

“[Name]?”

You raise your head but do not meet his eyes.

“You haven’t looked at me since you got here.”

Pointing out your actions is cruel, but so is your treatment. Thus, you capitulate like you always do. The sight of the familiar dull blues is something you did not want to welcome but you do.

“Sorry.” You try your best to give a smile even if it’s shaky and uncertain. “I’m just… shaken up. I’ll be alright in a few hours.”

Unfortunately for you, the devil has another demand. “Say my name. You haven’t even said my name yet.”

“Childe?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “My name.”

A light bulb shines above your head, and you immediately respond. “Ajax.”

He smiles. “Again.”

“Ajax.”

You’re near the car before you know it.

The sun is setting which paints the sky in a beautiful gradient of red and yellow, hints of magenta red peeking through the clouds. The car’s trunk opens and your luggage is promptly placed inside. Your company for the evening comes to stand in front of you, and your eyes instead go to the constellations of freckles dusting across his cheeks. Diverting your attention to him seems to please him because he’s smiling at you.

“It’ll be night by the time we’re there.”

Your statement makes Childe turn around and face the sunset as well. Somehow the mahogany coloured t-shirt is a perfect compliment to the sky’s colours, his hair glowing a fiery red with the sunset behind him.

“If it’ll be night,” he says, hand reaching for the phone inside his pocket, “you can go home and sleep. You need the rest.”

“No.” Childe turns to look at you, phone in hand, but you continue speaking. “I need to call my mom. She said to call when I reach the airport.”

The questioning look on his face turns into a smile. “What do you think I’m doing right now?”

You raise a brow. “Taking me home?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “With my phone. What do you think I’m doing with my phone?”

Your eyes widen when he clarifies, mouth agape before you compose yourself. “Oi. I’m supposed to talk to her, not you.”

Childe’s thumb presses something on his phone, cheeky grin infuriating you further. “Too late. I sent her a text. I told her I picked you up and that we’re on our way home.”

Mouth having fallen open again, you stomp towards him. Aiming for his phone doesn’t help, for he simply raises it above his head and takes a step back. Thus, you grab onto his shirt’s neckline and pull. The smile falls from his face only to return when he’s barely an inch away from your face, noses almost brushing.

“[Name],” he breathes, eyes staring into yours, “I’m sure this counts as public indecency. Let’s go home first.”

Unbothered, you simply sigh. “I told you. I’m supposed to talk to her. Not you.”

Childe pulls away, his hand gently undoing your grip on his shirt. “And why’s that? Maintaining a good relationship with your family is important.”

“If my mother finds out I’m with you so often, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

He blinks, obviously not having understood. “Isn’t that good?”

“No!”

Childe tilts his head, hair no longer glowing in the sunset. It’s starting to get dark now. “Explain.”

With a groan, you humour him, albeit begrudgingly. “She’ll scold me for being too carefree. I don’t want her on my case all the time.”

“Alright,” he whines. “Come on. Let’s go home. You need some dinner and rest.”

The car park’s street lights illuminate the area, and following Childe you get into the passenger seat. With a huff, you look at his smile - that upturn of his lips seemingly always present in front of you - and plop down onto the seat only to feel… ‘something’ under you. Childe raises a questioning brow as you halfway stand up, trying to grab whatever hard object was under you.

It would be a lie to say you weren’t daunted when a heavy, cold metal object sat in your palm.

Like throwing away a scalding hot piece of iron, you fling the gun to the back seat, eyes boring holes into the item as it lays in the back. Almost as on cue, memories of what had occurred pre-departure flood back in mockingly. It was foolish to be even slightly comfortable around him. Have you forgotten your differences?

“Woah! Careful there!” Childe glances at the firearm sitting on the back seat, but quickly turns back to you. Seeing how your chest is heaving as you look ahead, he breathes a sigh of relief. At least he used the safety lever so that it accidentally doesn’t fire. That would have ended badly.

He watches as you pay him no mind, eyes focused on what you can see through the dashboard’s glass. “Hey,” he whispers gently, “I left it there by mistake. My bad.”

You put a hand over your throat, fingers pressed to your right carotid artery. The continuously pumping blood grounds you. It grounds you, but it provides no comfort. Whatever strength remains in you after a long trip is what helps you compose yourself again.

“Let’s just go home.”

Your words are taken as a command, and Chide nods, immediately reversing the car out of the parking space. It’s completely dark now, the sky only illuminated by the moon and whatever stars are visible with the light pollution. As you exit the airport premises, you allow yourself to immerse in the silence.

Head resting against the window, you close your eyes. It’s a shame your family doesn’t know about your new living arrangements.

The first thing to greet you at your new accommodation is silence. The next is the sound of your phone ringing. The bag on your shoulders is eased off as you press the device to your ear, Childe leaving the thing on the sofa. Silver chalice coloured polished tiles stare back at you as you greet your mother while your new mafioso ‘housemate’ drags your luggage to your room.

After reassuring your mother that you have reached home safely, you excuse yourself with wanting to rest, something she respects and immediately cuts the call for. Now, your greatest conundrum faces you with crossed arms, dull blue eyes observing you instead of simply looking. It’s a test. You know it.

Thus, being the good student that you are, you play along. It is absolutely crucial that you do so because there is only one thing that may land you in hot water: your refusal to cooperate. Despite all that, there are boundaries you will not allow to be crossed, no matter how much he insists.

“Are you sure about the guest room?” Childe patiently eyes you as you mull over an answer. Eyes still taking in every minute detail of your body, he doesn’t miss you biting your lip for a moment.

With a meek voice that you know is his weakness, you mutter a yes. “I’m sorry,” you excuse yourself. “I don’t think I’ll be comfortable sharing a room just yet.”

“Well,” Childe tries again, grabbing the backrest of the sofa behind him for support, “maybe we could live in the same room, but uh, I’ll go to the guest room to sleep. Then we can slowly get comfortable with each other-”

“Childe.”

He blinks. “Yes?”

“Please.” You make it a point to slightly frown, just to garner his sympathy. “I promise I’m not being distant. I’m just… not comfortable yet.”

He sighs, the sound bouncing off the newly painted walls. “Fine. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” His commiseration, although begrudging, is welcomed on your end. Thus, to show your gratitude, you walk up to him and pat his cheek twice. The action makes his eyes widen as he looks at you, and you’re again reminded of how simple-minded he is at times. It’s almost cute… if you ignore the other stuff.

“Do you… want me to be next to you while you sleep?” Childe asks. “It’s a new environment for you. M-maybe my presence will help you fall asleep.”

You smile at him, thankful that he’s caring about your comfort. Nevertheless, you’ll be fine, so you decline. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine. I’m sure I’ll pass out as soon as I hit the pillow.”

He’s still looking at you like a sad puppy in hope you’ll change your mind. You do not. “Fine,” Childe yields. “Just call me if you need anything. I’ll… wake you up for dinner. You can nap until then.”

Just the thought of bed makes you sleepy, so you nod and head for your new living quarters. Unfortunately, you do not turn to look at your new housemate’s empty gaze.

It takes great strength to open your eyes, even if for just a moment, but you do not bother with waking up. Turning to the other side instead, you snuggle deeper into the cover with the contentment that your mother will come and wake you up whenever appropriate. And she does. The warm hand that rests on your cheek caresses the skin gently, a voice hesitantly calling your name.

The realisation that the hand and voice do not belong to your mother is cruel, but it suffices to instantly wake you up with a startle.

Blue. That is what you first see.

The mattress underneath you feels too hard for a moment, and you feel as though you are somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere you mustn't be. The feeling seems to be a mockery created by your mind, but you allow yourself to breathe before listening to the culprit of your disturbed sleep.

“Sorry.” You give no reaction to Childe’s apology. He continues, “It’s starting to get late, and I didn’t want to wake you up for dinner but decided against that because you probably haven’t eaten in a while.”

You continue to stare at him, giving him a look that says, ‘so?’ but he doesn’t seem bothered. Instead, he has the gall to grab your hand from underneath the cover.

“Let’s eat together.”

Childe ends up receiving a very tired raised eyebrow from you before you actually make a move to get up. However, before he could comment on your tired state and ask you to stay in bed, you have thrown the cover off your body and are already on your way to the living room. It makes him sigh, but he doesn’t complain.

Dinner is late and quiet. It’s around half past ten, but Childe doesn’t mind since you don’t have class in the morning. He took a day off as well, just to make up for lost time. The last time he saw you was weeks ago. Of course he wants to spend time with you.

You, on the other hand, down the home cooked meal without any second thought, brain still on autopilot. It makes you feel bad since you don’t have the energy to compliment his cooking, but hey. He woke you up from a deep sleep. He should feel bad. Nevertheless, the cook shamelessly asks about his cooking.

“Did you like it?”

You blink up at him, responding with a sigh. “I’m too tired to taste it.”

Hands folded over his chest, his portion of food is also gone. “I see. Want to go to bed again? I’ll lay down with you till you fall asleep.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Childe gives you a look again, one that reminds you just how easily his dull eyes make you acquiesce. Despite fighting it, you fail and give in like you always do. “Okay okay,” you grumble. His celebratory smile falls when you elaborate. “But no getting into bed with me. You can uh… just sit there.”

“Why not?” The tilt of his head is accentuated by his slightly furrowed brows. It honestly reminds you of a kid trying to negotiate a later bedtime with his mother. “I promised you I won’t try anything you don’t want me to.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is?”

Sensing an argument coming up, you decide to steer the conversation elsewhere. There is too much at stake to anger him just because you’re tired, and you would rather not act like a whining child simply to get what you want. No. You are better than his tactics. Better, but not necessarily perfect.

“I’m sorry,” you say, voice low and dejected, “I just want to be alone. I just got back from home and everything feels so weird.” You sigh, simply to make a point. “If I was living in the dorms, I would’ve still been in bed. I really appreciate you, truly, but I just want to be alone. Living alone isn’t easy.”

He counters almost instantly. “You aren’t alone.”

“I meant family,” you clarify. “Being away from family isn’t fun.”

A pensive expression takes over his face. Childe actually looks like he’s thinking, the gears in his head moving as he tries to make sense of your words. Though they were only to get him to back off and subtly establish your boundaries, not everything was a lie. Well, some of it at least.

“Alright,” he surrenders. “I’ll sit next to you.”

Funnily enough, sleep comes easy with his presence. The fact had baffled you when you woke up in the morning, but the plentiful rest ceased any thinking on your part.

Like a sponge slowly soaking up water as it’s left over a water stain, Childe has entered almost every part of your life. He has consumed it entirely, trapping you within his confines as every single activity remains scrutinised. You had first thought you were the sponge, but you were mistaken. Childe is the sponge. You are the water he has soaked up and gotten hold of.

The power is in his hands. Though it’s not unpleasant most of the time, his proprietorial behaviour never fails to remind you of the numerous differences in both your personalities and mentalities. At first, you were able to subtly manipulate him like you did when you first got back. Unfortunately, he has either realised your tactic or grown immune to your tired expressions with displeased frowns and sweet pleadings.

You have no idea what to do.

It absolutely does not help that you are under the added stress of your studies and with no means of clearing your mind because you aren’t sure how to go out with your friends. It also doesn’t help that you simply don’t have the time to go out with your friends.

Rubbing your eyes, you cross out the name of a particular course before clicking on the submit button. The word ‘submitted’ appears in front of ‘assignment 3’, and you instantly put your head down on the table. As usual, your laptop’s screen turns off after its three minute timer is up, prompting your mind to start thinking over your next assignment.

There’s around five days to the deadline and it’s an essay. Perhaps having it drip with affectation might impress the tutor. She is one for grandiose after all. All you’ll need is to find synonyms of every other word and make them sound pretentious. Yes, that’ll do. Just make a rough draft and then edit it with the synonyms so that it’s easier to write and organise your ideas.

Wait… you haven’t even done the reading yet. How are you supposed to write it without doing the required reading?

Taking a peek at the clock on the wall, you make a mental note of reading and writing down main points and ideas before bed. That’s the only thing you have the energy left to do. Maybe you’ll watch a movie tonight, forget any academic obligations and let the mistakes take over.

“Sulking? Or tired?”

Your beloved housemate’s voice calls out from somewhere behind. That gives you a very clear idea that he’s invited himself inside the room. The door was closed. You didn’t hear anything.

Without raising your head, you mumble out your reply. “Both.”

A chuckle, and you hear him sitting down on the bed. “Wow. You sound like you need a twelve hour sleep.”

“Maybe I need twenty.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles again, “you’re going to need drugs for that.”

With a sigh, you raise your head, eyes staring at Childe’s blurry reflection on your laptop’s screen. “Maybe a drug cartel-ish business would’ve been easier. How much do you make again?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I don’t really need to keep track. It’s more than enough.”

“Show-off.”

“To be fair there are no drugs involved.”

You raise a brow at his reflection. “Then what is?”

“Hm.” Childe crosses his arms, faking deep thought. “You would have to be assassinated if I told you. Which is obviously unpreferable.”

“Yeah. I’m good then. Keep your secrets.”

He laughs again, louder this time. “Technically, spouses are immune to that rule. You’re gonna have to marry me if you want to know.”

A click of your tongue and you turn to look at him. Your expression is anything but playful. “Keep your secrets.” Now that you see the burnt maroon shirt and black pants, you figure that he just came back home. He’s even wearing his gloves.

“Oh, come on [Name]. I’m not that bad.”

You don’t reply.

“I am…?”

“No comment,” you deadpan. With that, you turn back to your laptop and turn it back on. Quietly, you close the pdf files of your submitted assignment and open the ones relating to the essay you need to turn in. By your estimate, you need to do lots of brainstorming, so if you start right now, you can get it done in around three days.

A hand flat on the table next to yours and warm breath over your ear startle you as you attempt to start reading. “Week six,” Childe reads, “the emotional mind: emotion, reason, and consciousness. Discuss the argument the author of this document has laid out and present your own views on the topic he is discussing. There is no right or wrong answer. You will be graded over your coherency in your writing and skills in identifying any possible discrepancies or invalidity of arguments. Please feel free to contact me or your tutor if you need help. The format is the same as what we discussed in class. Good luck.”

You open the document that is your required reading for the assignment and hear a grumble from Childe. He moves closer to you and instinctively, you lean forward to maintain what little distance there was. Gently, he coaxes your hand off the touchpad and asks if there’s any unsaved progress in the tabs you’ve opened. Once you say no, he closes everything.

After shutting down the laptop, he picks it up and places it on a side table. “Take a break,” he says. “You don’t need to work so hard.”

Tired, you’re almost tempted into listening to him but snap out of it when you hear what he says next.

“I’m going to take care of you, so even if something happens and you can’t complete the degree, you don’t have to worry.”

The statement makes you frown and you clearly show your displeasure with your expression and words. "That's not very nice."

He simply shrugs. "All I'm saying is that there's no pressure on you. Take it easy."

"The kind of pressure you're talking about is irrelevant."

Childe shifts his weight from one foot to the other, hand on a hip. "Is it? In what way," he challenges. "You left home to come to a different country to study. Of course there's pressure to succeed. I'm just trying to ease that."

"No. You're not." You finally find the courage to look straight into his challenging stare, unyielding despite feeling your heart start to beat faster. "You might be trying on your end, but it just makes me feel worse."

Your chest rises with every beat of your heart, the lub dub clearly audible in your ears. Again, Childe shifts his weight onto the other foot. He’s still looking at you that way, and it’s freaking you out. How can his stare be so… overwhelming?

“If you really think,” he says, “that what I say makes it worse, then I’m sorry.”

Out of surprise, you look over his expression but the furrowed brows fail to show any sign of insincerity despite his flat tone. The discrepancy makes you frown again, but you don’t bother explaining the expression to him. “Alright,” you say. With that, you go back to your table only to stare at the empty space in front of you.

There’s eraser dust around the table, your stationery haphazardly lying around and a single notebook open. There’s also your phone and a little packet of salted peanuts to munch on while studying. You hear a deep inhale from somewhere behind you but don’t bother pausing your aimless staring. It’s the sudden physical presence behind you that demands your attention back.

“[Name].”

Be mature about this, you tell yourself. There’s no need to be petty and say something neither of you will like.

At your silence, he continues. “[Name], are you… mad at me?”

Of course not! I love it when you say that you’ve cemented the idea of the both of us together. You start, “Childe-”

“Ajax.”

“Ajax,” you correct yourself, “gosh I’m still not used to that name. Anyway, I’m not mad at you.”

There’s a sound of disbelief that comes from behind you. “You’re not even looking at me!”

“I’m processing not having to use my brain. Give me a moment.”

He scoffs this time. “I don’t believe you. You’re doing the same thing. You’re being distant again.”

“I’m not,” you defend.

“Yes. Yes, you are. I know how this will inevitably go down. You’re going to grow more distant and talk less until there’s a confrontation that leaves you crying.” Childe continues despite your silence. “I don’t want that.”

It forces you to think he’s selfish, that he only thinks for himself when he says that he doesn’t want that, but despite wanting to think so, you know that he says that for you. His countenance gives away what his words cannot, and you still remember the face he made when it had happened.

That pure horror and regret is one of the reasons why despite his actions you still respect this man. Maybe it’s the only reason you don’t scream at him everyday, be acrimonious and cry yourself to sleep over your predicament. He may have taken over your life, but he also undoubtedly and unequivocally loves and cares for you. Even if he sometimes looks at you like you’re hiding something.

You will ignore the occasional watchful eyes in favour of the care he is capable of. Perhaps, or even most likely, it is the only reason why you think twice before speaking when you’re in a bad mood.

“So,” Childe says, a hand now next to yours on the table as he leans closer behind you, “let’s talk it over, okay?"

A question pops up in your mind, and you voice it after pulling your hand under the table. “Talk over what? I was just about to say that I’ll try my best not to do that again. And as for right now, I’m really just processing things. I’m tired.”

“Hm,” he hums. “The offer is still on the table. I can make your life easy. All you need to do is give me one chance.”

You scoff. “Easy? I think my life is easy enough. I don’t have to work, only study. Heck, you even do the groceries and cook more than half of the time.”

“I suppose you have a point.” In one swift movement, your chair is grabbed by the backrest and dragged to the edge of the bed. There, Childe seats himself, satisfied at the eye contact. “But I could make it easier.”

Arms now crossed, you respond to his offer with a question. “What, so you’re a magician now? I didn’t know you had a side gig.”

He laughs, boyish and charming. “Of course not. I’m just telling you what I can do for you. Nothing more.”

The smile on his face unsettles you. It’s one of the scheming ones. The one he has when he’s cooking up something that definitely is not food. Nevertheless, his little ‘clarification’ is met with nothing more than nonchalance on your end.

“Alright,” you shrug. “Thanks for making me take a break. I really needed it.”

He’s still smiling, albeit differently this time. It’s morphed into something more sincere, something more warm and welcoming. The look in his eyes is no way the same. “Absolutely. There’s no way I wouldn’t help you.”

The conversation seems almost over, and you are about to get up to lie on your bed when a demand pauses your movements. “Say my name,” he says. “I love hearing my name from you.”

You know why he asks that of you sometimes. It grounds him, reminds him of who he is behind the red mask that lays next to the vase on the side table. Gloves are peeled off, and hypnotised by the reveal of the long fingers underneath them, you mindlessly give your reply.

“Ajax.”

“[Name],” he breathes.

You are just as breathless. “Ajax.”

Face now resting in his palm, his smile is small but affectionate. “[Name].” Eyes follow as well, turning into something more soft. You finally see the image of someone adoring and can’t help the almost desperate call that slips from your mouth.

“Ajax.”

You do not know who you were calling to.

#childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #tartaglia x reader

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adams-angels · 2 months

Note

I've been thinking about something Adam x Reader is an angel of death/a reaper can you do that please

(Sorry for mistakes English is not my native language)

Got a bit obsessed with this ask and made an oc for it 🤭 Went a totally different direction to my original idea but I kinda like it! Sorry for it being so short!

I definitely plan on making this a two parter!Reaper!reader needs to meet dickhead Adam.

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

Grim

The first time you saw Adam was the first time someone died. Only made sense for it to be the first man.

He was lying on the ground. His deathbed. "Hello, Adam."

He looked around, he couldn't see you yet. His eyes blurred with tears. "W-who are you?"

You thought about it for a moment. "I have no name." You replied softly. A voice of a serenity. "I'm here to collect you."

"collect me? What are you talking about?" The man asked, scared, desperately looking for the source of the voice. "You need not be afraid." You reassurance calmed his nerve. "What's happening to me?" He asked. A crack in his voice and tears spilled from him eyes. "You're dying, Adam."

Dying. No one told the first man about death. He was supposed to live in paradise. He would be if Lilith didn't leave him. If Eve didn't- he sobbed. "Is that bad? Why does it hurt?"

"I'm sorry, Adam. Truly." Your form appeared in front of him. You were beautiful. At least he thought so. "Why couldn't I of married you." He chuckled through a sob. You cocked your brow in confusion. "It's... A joke.. have you heard of jokes?" "I can't say I have." "I made them up." He sniffed, smiling at you. Boasting his creation. "You're supposed to laugh." He hissed in pain, gripping at his side.

"I don't want to die..." He sobbed. "Not yet." "It will stop the pain." You told him, stepping towards his body. He flinched. "What will happen?" You thought for a moment. You didn't truly know. This was the first soul you will have reaped. You weren't told much at your creation. Just reap souls. "You will be happy. No longer alone. Loved." You told him. You're not sure why you said it. There was no way he'd believe you. And that might not even happen. "Loved?" He sniffed, wiping his cheek. You replied with a nod. "That would be nice." He smiled, it was soft.

He was ready.

You kneel down and take his hand. As you stand back up his soul came with you. Still holding on to your hand. "Once I let go. You will be sent to the heavens." He nodded. "Will I see you again?" He asked with a smile. You weren't sure. "That would be nice." You smile, gently squeeze his hand. "Goodbye, Adam." "Goodbye."

You released his hand and watch as his soul returns to whence it came. Maybe you'll see him again.

Maybe.

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader

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kaurwreck · 7 months

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If you're considering when Dazai noticed Chuuya wasn't a vampire, keep in mind that if Chuuya were a vampire, he wouldn't have killed the guards in Meursault. He would have turned them into more vampires.

Also, if you think that it cheapens the scene in which Dazai drowns Fyodor and Chuuya for Dazai to have known Chuuya was human: it doesn't. Regardless of whether Dazai knew Chuuya would survive (he did; see his explanation of how he would kill Chuuya in Fifteen, the light novel, and further how he approached Verlaine in Storm Bringer):

Imagine how fucking miserable it must have been to do that to someone he loves and trusts. Imagine how difficult for Dazai to lean into and trust Chuuya to be okay, not only after Dazai drowned him, but in such close proximity to Fyodor, whose ability is touch-based. Imagine Dazai recalling that when he was 16, his botched timing meant that Chuuya was tortured. Imagine Dazai reminding himself that Chuuya suffered then because Dazai didn't trust him, didn't let him in on what he was doing, thought only he could pull the strings up until he was too late— and yet Chuuya remained okay anyway. Imagine Dazai considering how time and time again he's received Chuuya's unadulterated trust and choosing to reciprocate with unequivocal faith. Imagine Dazai being unable to express any of this to Chuuya typically, except for in moments when the demands of the circumstances and Chuuya's inability to respond together loosen his inhibitions and his tongue.

Further, usually when Dazai's batshit machinations are exposed, his eyes flatten, his voice slickens into condescension, and he palpably slips into a version of himself that even unnerved Mori. But, in Twilight Goodbye/ep 61, Dazai's eyes were honeyed and light, his voice playful, and his mannerisms bright and animated. Those were not his typical machinations, because rather than attempt to control the variables, which he admitted he couldn't, he responded to what happened as it unfolded, and trusted those he loved to do the same.

He trusted Chuuya, Chuuya trusted him. Because of that, everything was okay. It's not cheap that Chuuya was never a vampire, nor would it be cheap if Dazai knew as soon as Chuuya tore through Meursault that he wasn't really a vampire. Angst is not the source of Bungou Stray Dogs' intensity; hope, faith, and love are, and they're just as heady.

#bungou stray dogs #soukoku #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #bsd spoilers #twilight goodbye #bsd season 5 #bsd anime #anyway tired of seeing takes that discount how euphoric this reveal was #because i've spent the last several weeks dizzy over how much dazai has grown as a character #bsd meta

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zzleeper · 1 month

Text

Good

Jason Todd x Nurse!Reader

MAJOR hurt/comfort

authors note: tbh i do not put as much effort as i should when i write these fics so pls forgive any errors. ty to the internet for providing me with tutorials on how to heal burns :)

ALSO this happens after the end of under the red hood. if you dk what happens basically the building everyone is in explodes and jason is probably incredibly emotionally vulnerable

CW: wounds and burns

words: 2227 . playlist/vibes

There’s the squeak of your window opening, and despite the fact you know it’s Red Hood, you pick up the baseball bat you keep beside your nightstand.

You had met Red Hood at a side job of yours. As a nurse in Gotham with dogshit pay, sometimes you’ve got to have some more questionable sources of income. You were stitching up some criminal who’d been beaten to half a pulp by Batman in the back of some sketchy club/drug dealing front, and he had caught your eye. Later, you realized he was probably there to fuck with the guys in the area once the men you were patching up started muttering about “The Red Hood” like if they spoke too loud he was going to hear them.

He’d played into your advances, flirting back with as much enthusiasm as you had arrived with. It was flattering having such a fine-ass man show interest in you. It didn’t matter how genuine it was since he had proven how good a lay he could be a week after that when you two had found each other again at another base of operations for another gang.

Every other time he always found you. He probably knew where you lived before you brought him back to your apartment. And he never took the mask off. It was a little weird, how attached to it he was, but it’s Gotham, and you’re fucking with a criminal. You’re lucky that, as far as you can tell, he’s not an escapee from Arkham. He didn’t touch the mask, and you didn’t say anything. Maybe he was super disfigured or something. You didn’t care; he looked good and fucked good, so nothing could’ve been that bad.

Red Hood always left before you’d even fallen asleep. The post-orgasm haze was enjoyable until he untangled himself from you and left without saying goodbye. It was always a silent affair every time he left. He was so committed to leaving that he refused to stay the night during a thunderstorm, deciding to brave thunder and rain instead of sleeping in the same bed with you

It didn’t hurt, but it was a little disappointing. You had never defined your relationship with Red Hood, but you knew he wasn’t interested in anything but sex. You were, though. The dull ache in your chest every time he left was nothing unexpected; catching feelings, or at least thinking you are, is a natural progression of fucking someone once every week or two. It’s a pattern you’ve found forming every time you’ve tried to have a no-strings-attached sort of relationship, even if you haven’t even seen his face before.

Creeping out of your room with socked feet, you shuffle toward your window and flick the light on.

Your bat clatters to the ground, and you can see Red Hood flinch slightly.

“Oh my god, what the fuck happened?” You gasp in shock at the state of the man who’s just broken into your apartment. Red Hood is beaten and bloody and clutching his side. You can see blood oozing out from the gaps between his fingers, but that might just be from how burned his hand is. His mask is just gone. But he’s still wearing a domino mask over his eyes. Bruises bloom everywhere on his face; his eyebrow is sluggishly bleeding into his eye, which is puffing up under the mask. He’s leaning against the wall beside your window, looking more like he collapsed.

He groans quietly in response as you rush over to him, collapsing on your knees next to him, “Got in an–” He coughs quietly, that’s not good, “An explosion.”

You want to suggest a hospital, but you know that he would immediately refuse and–if he could walk–probably just leave. Talking to Red Hood in vulnerable moments was like coaxing a feral cat.

“Okay,” You mumble, “Okay,” You know how to do this. Maybe with more people and more hospital equipment and not in your apartment, but you know how to do this.

“Alright,” You shuffle next to him and wrap an arm around his torso, maneuvering his arm to rest on your shoulders, “I’m going to lift you on one, okay?”

Red Hood nods, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Hey,” You snap, nudging him with your shoulder, “Stay awake–and deep breaths, alright?” Shuffling into a crouching position, you adjust him slightly, “Three, two, and one,” You both grunt in unison as you lift him up and off the floor, “Up we go, come on.”

Stumbling to the bathroom, you nudge the door open with your hip and carefully sit Red Hood on the toilet with you crouching between his legs. He droops in a way you’ve never seen before. Red Hood has always been so confident, holding himself high, but right now, he looks bone-tired, something sleep can’t fix.

He feels raw and broken open, something thick with sadness and tragedy oozing out of him, and that’s not just the blood. You cup his cheek to make him look you in the eyes, “Tell me what hurts, honey,” You say, the endearment slipping out as if you’re talking to a patient. Or someone you love.

Red Hood pushes his face into your hand, making your heart squeeze in your chest, “I think I broke a few ribs, definitely a concussion too,” He lifts his hand, it’s bloody and burned, blisters forming in spots that make you cringe, “And my hand is burned like crazy,” He rasps, “Shot my gun with some shit blocking the barrel.”

“Okay, can you take off your shirt, or do you need help?” You ask, standing up to start running the water and grabbing two cloths made from old t-shirts from the hamper next to your tub. Red Hood shakes his head and pulls off his shirt in your peripherals. Glancing over, his chest looks just as bad as you thought it would, with bruises scattered everywhere. It makes your stomach drop just a little more. At least there aren’t any deep abrasions anywhere.

Once the water warms up enough, you wet the cloths and offer one to Red Hood, resting the other one down on the sink countertop, “Wrap that around your hand and keep it there. I’m going to go get some ice for your ribs,” You say quietly, leaving the bathroom to walk over to the kitchen.

Why was Red Hood even here? He’s the most secretive person you know, and doesn’t he have an entire gang to patch him up? He must have a lieutenant or something somewhere. You grab the towel you keep in your kitchen and stuff it with ice, heading back to the bathroom where Red Hood awaits you. Honestly, fucking one of the most dangerous men in Gotham and a notorious crime lord was not your brightest idea, but patching him up after he got into a fucking explosion? What the fuck.

This isn’t what you two do, especially with Hood being so vulnerable right now. He’s breaking the boundaries he had firmly set completely on his own.

“Hey,” You say, Red Hood’s leaning back against the toilet, his eyes closed, “Wake up, I’ve got your ice.” Thankfully, he opens his eyes and takes the makeshift icepack with his good hand, pressing it against his ribs with a slight grimace. You pull the t-shirt-cloth off the counter and stand in between his legs to clean his face.

Nudging his chin with your hand to make him look up at you, you peel off the domino mask with some hesitation, but Red Hood just closes his eyes. He rests his head in your hand when you carefully grip his chin to nudge his face in the direction you want. Starting to clean the cut on his eyebrow, you think about how familiar he looks. His eyes look like those you’ve seen before, but you have no idea where.

“What happened?” You ask, wiping the blood off his face as carefully as you can. You know he won’t answer honestly, the few times you two had talked about anything close to emotions he had fled or changed the subject as soon as possible.

“I told you,” Red Hood responds like the avoidant fuck he is, “Explosion.”

You tut, whacking him lightly with your t-shirt-towel, and he huffs good-naturedly, “You know what I fucking meant, dickhead.” You scold, but he just shakes his head minutely in response, a furrow forming between his brows.

You swipe your thumb over it, soft in a way you two have never been, “You don’t have to tell me, Red. If this is the best way to help, then I’ll fix you up and send you on your way.”

He takes a shaky breath, and his eyebrows scrunch together more. You’re scared he’s going to stand up and leave your apartment, but he pushes through your hands and presses his forehead into your stomach. He falls apart against you. You can’t tell if he’s crying, but it’s something close.

“Oh, sweetheart,” You mutter, curling a hand into his hair.

You both stay like that until he calms down, the sobs wracking his body slowing to a stop. Cupping his face in your hands, you push until he looks up at you.

You don’t have to push very hard. Wiping away the tear tracks with your thumbs, you smile sadly down at him. There’s a small wet spot on your shirt.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” You crouch down and start wiping the dirt and blood off his chest, pushing him until he leans against the back of the toilet. Repeating this on his back as well, you try to soothe as best you can with a hand stroking up and down his side with the least bruises.

Once you’re done you pull him around to face you, “I’m going to wash your hair, bandage your hand, and then you’re sleeping for a very long time.”

Red Hood visibly tenses at that, and you level him with an unimpressed stare, “Stay,” You say quietly, resting your hands on his biceps and avoiding his gaze, “I want to watch you if you have a concussion, and I can’t do that when you’re having a seizure in an alleyway because it’s given you brain damage.”

He deflates, but still rolls his eyes, “It’s not that bad,” He argues, “I’ve been through worse.” How bad, he doesn’t say, but from the amount of scars on his chest and back, you can pretty much tell.

You patronizingly pat his cheek, “That sucks for you,” You tease, your hand sliding down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, avoiding the burns on his hands, and gently tug him towards the shower. He follows without protest, and you both sit against the tub as you wait for the water to warm up. It’s calming, sitting beside Red Hood, your sides pressed together.

Once the water is at a heat you deem acceptable; you pull down the showerhead and maneuver Red Hood to kneel over the tub, still icing his ribs, and start washing his ashy hair with generous amounts of shampoo and conditioner. You can feel his breathing slow next to you as you massage his head with your hands, suds falling into the tub under him.

You wring out his hair with a towel and push him back up into a sitting position. Kneeling on the ground, you lean over to pull open the cabinet under your sink and carefully take the first aid kit from its precarious balance on top of your medicine hoard.

Wrapping his burn is easier than you thought, Red Hood pliant and willing under your hands. You do a once over of him and judge him fit to sleep. You lead him out of the bathroom with a hand on the small of his back.

“Sorry, I don’t have any underwear for you,” You whisper, scared to break the quiet vulnerability you two are sharing.

He smiles at you for the first time since he arrived, which really means it’s the first time ever. It’s soft around the corners with exhaustion, and he looks at you for a little while before responding, “It’s okay, I didn’t expect you to,” He whispers back, just as hushed as you.

You chuckle at his late reply, “Your concussion must be pretty bad if it takes you that long to process words,” You goad, slipping under the covers. Red Hood goes to follow after setting his icepack down on the nightstand, but you hold out a hand to stop him, “Pants. Off. I’m not getting your grime and soot all over my clean sheets.”

He smiles brighter, “Well, you could’ve asked nicer,” He huffs, unbuckling his utility belt and letting it fall to the floor. He undoes his real belt and kicks off his cargo pants, nestling down into the sheets with a groan that’s half pain and half satisfaction.

You’re lying on your stomach, your face smushed against the pillow facing Red Hood, who’s lying on his back, as he fucking should, staring up at the ceiling, “Good?” You mumble, more at the pillow than the man beside you, and he laughs slightly, turning his head to look at you.

“Yeah,” He whispers like a secret in the dark of your bedroom, “It's good.”

#jason todd #jason todd x female reader #jason todd x reader #hurt/comfort #i made myself sad #nvm that was the mitski

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lovelettersfromluna · 5 months

Text

Bloom

Summary: “Uh-oh, I’m falling in love”

an: it’s time to say goodbye to these two, I hope you’ve enjoyed them as much as I did. Thanks for reading 🥹

Warnings: SMUT!! MDNI! 18+, mentions hospitals, reader is an emotional wreck at one point, Ellie flirts with another girl, lots of angst in this one, scissoring, petnames, sex on the beach, love making, lmk if I missed anything!

You can read part 1 here, and part 2 here!

Taglist: @macaroni676 @aouiaa @skylerwhitwyo @callmewhenyoukan

They always say that no matter what, you’ll never truly be ready for your wedding day.

Everyone you’ve spoken to, always says the same thing. They tell you you can never really prepare for it, no matter what you do, the feelings that you’re going to feel are going to be like no other, you’ll feel things that you weren’t sure even existed before your wedding day, but despite everything, you are going to be the happiest girl on the entire planet.

So…why did you feel so fucking bad on the morning of it all?

There was a sinking feeling that followed you the entire week leading up to your wedding day, and no matter what you did, you couldn’t shake it. It loomed over you, and it made everything so fucking dark, and dreary, and it made you feel like there was something you were missing, the terrible feeling of forgetting something vital.

As you gave it more thought, trying to pinpoint when and where this feeling began, an attempt at trying to find the source of it all and get rid of it, you realized what it was that was making you feel this way.

It was Ellie.

It was the lack of her by your side through one of the biggest moments in your life. From the moment your fiancé proposed to you, you envisioned Ellie right there with you, through every step of the way, cheering you on.

But after the last phone call you had with her, it was clear that wasn’t going to happen.

The words that Ellie said to you, it was like you were speaking to a different person. It was as if someone had replaced your best friend, instead giving you a girl who treated you as a stranger, shouting at you, pushing you away.

It burned you from the inside out.

It left a bitter taste in your mouth, a burning sensation in your throat, and tear stained cheeks. Your fiancé tried to help, she held you the night after you got off the phone with Ellie, assuring you that it wasn’t you, that it was something she’s going through.

The woman that was marrying you held you as you cried over someone else.

And maybe that should’ve been a sign, a clue to your oblivious little mind that you should’ve second guessed the whole thing, taken a step back to look at the bigger picture.

But you didn’t.

You endured the pain, and pushed down the ugly feeling that settled at the pit of your stomach on the days leading up to your wedding, chalking it up the be the nerves that came with it all.

Because you can never truly prepare for your wedding day, right?

You didn’t even realize you were crying as you were sat in the chair in front of the vanity, a soft gasp falling from the lips of the makeup artist as she quickly reached over to the table and grabbed a tissue, bringing it to your cheek.

You frowned softly as your eyes focused on yourself in the mirror, watching as she gently dabbed away the tears on your face.

“Fuck…I’m so sorry…” you quickly apologized, gently taking the tissue from her and dabbing the tears away.

She giggled softly, shaking her head as she gave you a fond smile. “Oh please don’t apologize, I get it” she hummed out softly before she brushed a strand out of your hair and went back to doing your makeup.

“Wedding day jitters always creep up on you…I was a mess the entire morning of mine” she giggled softly before she gave you a reassuring nod.

She was simply trying to help, assuring you that whatever you were feeling was completely normal, something that came with the motives of being a bride.

But if she was trying to help, why did it only make you feel worse?

Because deep down, you knew this was different, and you knew that what you were feeling had little to do with the fact that you were getting married today.

It was like you were numb to it all, watching as everyone around you primped and tucked at you, making sure your hair was pinned in place, your dress was adjusted properly, your makeup was perfect, but it was like you weren’t even there, like everyone around you was simply dressing up a mannequin instead of a girl.

When it was finally time to step in front of the mirror to take a look at yourself, you couldn’t even recognize the person that stared back at you. The girl in the mirror looked beautiful, the perfect dress, the perfect hair and makeup, decked out in every brides dream.

But the eyes that stared back at you, they were hollow, they were vacant of something that used to twinkle in photos and videos, a spark of life that was once there, now almost completely gone.

The person in the mirror, wasn’t you anymore.

You inhaled deeply, cocking your head to the side a bit as you eyed yourself, the room now only filled with you, your bridesmaid giving you a moment alone while they got dressed before it was time for the ceremony. You tried so hard to feel something, anything other than what was filling your heart currently, which was the ugly, bitter feeling that had settled in months ago.

You didn’t even hear the knock at the door, and you probably wouldn’t have turned around at all if you didn’t hear the gentle jiggle of the doorknob paired with the creaking of the door. It made you turn around, only to see a familiar face peeking in.

“Can I um…is it alright if I come in?” Joel grumbled out softly, his hand covering his eyes as he stayed a small ways away from the door.

You gasped softly, grabbing two fistfuls of your dress and hiking it up a bit as you rushed towards the door. You tugged the man’s arm gently, pulling him into the room before you wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your face to his chest, and inhaling deeply.

“You came…” you sighed softly against him, cuddling further into the man.

Joel chuckled softly, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you close, one of his hands coming up and gently cradling your head, the man clearly afraid to ruin your perfectly styled hair.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, kid…you know that” he hummed out before he pulled you away gently, either of his hands gripping your arms gently.

“Come on then…lemme get a good look at ya” His eyes twinkled as he smiled down at you, the crinkled up at the edges as he gave you a smile, a sense of pride radiating off of him and washing over you, just from the way he looked at you.

And for some reason, it made your chin wobble, and you felt your throat burn as he stared down at you, because it actually makes you feel something. Joel can’t be around you without reminding you of Ellie, the two so similar, so reminiscent of each other.

It makes you wish that Ellie was the one with you instead.

His eyes widen a bit as he watches your eyes well up with tears, and he gives you a gentle shake, paired with a reassuring smile.

“You’ll ruin that pretty makeup if you start cryin’ on me kid…can’t walk down the aisle like that” he smiled down at you.

You giggled softly at his words before you nodded, inhaling deeply as you tried to suck it up and fight back the tears, no matter how much his words twisted the knife that was already jabbed into your chest.

“Sorry…I just…didn’t expect you to be here” you breathed out softly before you began tugging him over to a small couch near a window in your room.

You let out a soft sigh as you looked out the big bay windows. It was almost like a sick joke, because you couldn’t have picked a more perfect day to get married. The sun was shining, the breeze was blowing, birds chirping, all of it looking too similarly to something out of a fucking fairytale.

Yet you were just so…unhappy.

“Is it stupid for me to ask if she came with you?” You mumbled softly, already knowing the answer to the question.

Deep down, you could only hope you were wrong. You hoped she was down there, sitting with all of your guests, an empty spot next to her for Joel. It would’ve been the perfect surprise, seeing here there, waiting for you, happy for you.

Joel let out a soft sigh as he eyed you for a moment before he hunched over a bit, resting his elbows on his thighs.

He saw it in your eyes the second he caught sight of you, just how much the lack of his daughter’s presence affected you, and how much your marriage affected her. It was almost stupid how oblivious you two were to it all, to the clear connection you had, opting to suffer in silence when all that would solve this is simply sitting down with one another and talking it over.

But he never wanted to pry on you and Ellie, he always banked on you two working it out eventually and realizing just how perfect you were for each other.

He lost that how when he had to hold his crying daughter after she received her wedding invitation from you.

“Ellie is….shes really not doing well right now…” he sighed out softly, the man trying his best to dance around what was truly going on with his daughter.

She begged him to never tell you about her condition.

You let out a gentle hum as you nodded, eyes still staring out of the window.

“She’s sick…she told me” you responded.

Joel raised his eyebrows at your words, confusion written over his face as he registered your response.

“Ellie…told you about what’s going on with her right now?” He questioned wearily.

If you knew, how on earth were you so nonchalant about the whole thing?

You let out a gentle as you nodded, finally turning your attention back to Joel.

“She told me she’s got a cold…I’m not sure how a regular cold is supposed to last though” you mumbled out, a bitter, sad edge to your words as they fell from your lips.

Joel let out another sigh before he brought his hand up to his face, rubbing his eyes. He knew he was going to regret what he was about to do, and although he promised Ellie he wouldn’t say anything, he couldn’t do this anymore.

He refused to sit back and watch you destroy each other.

“I…I gotta be honest with you, kid…there’s more to it than she’s lettin’ on..” he sighed out.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him, suddenly eager for the man to continue speaking, you stayed quiet as you let him continue.

“She…she’s real sick….shes got some strange condition that…it….” Joel wasn’t sure how to say it, how to explain to you that you were the cause of his daughter being so ill, being so unhappy. How were you even supposed to explain that to someone? Telling them that the person closest to them has fallen ill because you don’t love them back?

You reached over to Joel, bending over a bit and grabbing his large, calloused hands in yours, forcing him to look at you.

Your eyes were desperate, shining with a sense of eagerness that Joel rarely saw in people.

“Joel…please” your voice was above a whisper, anticipating his words even more than you were your fucking wedding downstairs.

Joel frowned deeply as he watched you, wide eyes, desperate to know where Ellie was.

He couldn’t hide it from you anymore.

He swallowed thickly before he let out a sigh.

“She’s sick because you don’t love her…that’s why she’s been away, and it’s why she’s not here” he admitted, his words heavy with a sense of sadness that made your heart break.

And it’s like everything clicks all at once, and you hate yourself for being so fucking stupid, being so blind. Your eyes are welling up with tears, and you feel your throat closing up as you stare into Joel’s eyes, feeling as if the world had stopped, and the only thing that mattered in that very moment was getting to Ellie.

“Where is she” you deadpan, voice quivering as shiny tears threaten to spill out onto your cheeks.

“Listen…it won’t change anything. She’s already made up her mind about it the whole thing, just thought you deserved to know before she-“ you’re quit to cut him off, griping the man’s hands tighter, eyebrows furrowing as you practically beg him once more.

“Joel…where is she” From the way you’re looking at him, he knows you aren’t one to mess with. You aren’t going to drop it, not after what he’s told you.

He lets out a sigh of defeat, blinking his eyes a few times before he speaks.

“Shes about to go into surgery..they’re gonna try and fix her up” he mumbled out softly.

And you don’t even need to think twice, because you’re letting go of his hands, grabbing your phone, and making your way to the door of your dressing room.

Joel stands up when he sees you, realizing he’s made a mistake. You hear him calling out for you, trying to grab your arm.

“C’mon kid, where are you goin’. It’s your wedding day” he tried, his hand circled around your wrist as he tried pulling you back, bringing you back to earth from what you were feeling.

When you turn around, your eyes are twinkling with tears, and you stare at him in disbelief.

“My best friend is going into surgery because of me. I’m getting the fuck out of here” you breath out before you tug you arm from his grasp, and leave the room.

It’s almost like life begins to move in slow motion.

You don’t hear anything. The calls of your friends and family as your thinning down the halls of the wedding venue, your dress in hand as you focus on getting out as soon as fucking possible.

You don’t even hear the calls of your fiancé when you’re stepping out of the building.

Because all you can think about, is Ellie.

Your feet are carrying you out onto the road, immediately flagging down the first taxi cab you see and getting in. There are so many people running out behind you, standing outside of the venue and shouting at you, trying to figure out what’s happened, what they can do to help.

And you ignore every single one of them, and simply tell the driver to take you to the hospital as quickly as he can.

Running into the hospital is just the same. You don’t notice the strange stares from the people in the waiting room, or from the woman at the desk, you don’t even hear the little girl gasping when she sees you, urging her mother to look at the princess running through the hospital as she points at you.

You’re gasping for air when you reach the desk, palms pressing against the cool table as you stare down at the wide eyed woman.

“Ellie Williams. I need to find Ellie Williams” you breathe out.

The woman blinks a few times, staring up at you in disbelief before she quickly flips through some pages in the binder in front of her.

“I..um….may I ask your relation to the patient?” She stutters out, her eyes quickly shifting from the paper up to you.

“I’m her girlfriend” you blurt out without a second thought

The woman nods, looked back down at her paper before she looks towards her screen, clicking on her mouse before typing something in.

“She’s in room 404 but she-“ you mumble a quick thank you to the woman before you quickly tug your dress into your hands, rushing down the hallway as you ignore her calls for you.

Your eyes frantically shift from both walls as you search for the room number that’s front and center in your mind, running down hallways as you eagerly try to get to the room that Ellie’s in.

When you finally reach the hallway her room is in, you see a doctor walking out of the room you assume is hers, and before you can rush into Ellie’s room, he’s quickly stopping you.

“Woah woah…slow down there ma’am…where are you headed?” He asked gently, trying his best to calm you down. You could barely listen to him, or even register the words that he was saying to you, you just knew that you had to get to Ellie.

"My best friend...I need to see my best friend" You managed to get out between shallow breaths, your eyes shifting rapidly between him and the door behind him, yet every attempt you made at trying to get around the doctor to get to the door that Ellie was behind, he stopped.

Once the doctor finally took in your appearance, the big white wedding dress that you wore, tiny strands of hair falling from your hair, eyes wide and chest heaving..

He knew who you were immediately.

He gripped your shoulders, stopping you from getting around him, and forcing you to look up at him.

"She's fine...but before you go in there, you need to know a few things" He sighed out, already knowing that he would have to break the news to you.

The tone of his voice made you slow down, and it forced you to stare up at the stranger in front of you, because you knew deep down, he probably had all of the information that you could have possibly needed about your friend.

He explained your worst nightmare. He told you that Ellies surgery went well, and she was currently recovering. He and a team of other doctors has worked on her that morning...

She had scheduled her surgery for the day of your wedding.

The look on your face made the doctor sigh, because he had seen this far too many times. It was a case of love hitting someone too late, and in your case, you were the one that was late.

You were too fucking late.

"I need to warn you that...your friend won't be the same after she wakes up, not to you at least..it'll be like she barely even remembers you" He explained almost wearily, the man feeling the magnitude of your feelings, and the new lack of your friends.

But although you were late, you still had to be there for her.

You inhaled deeply, giving the doctor a silent nod before you grabbed your dress into your hands, lifted it up off the ground, and made your way to Ellie's door.

She looked like a fucking angel laying there, and it made you realize just how long it had been since you had seen her in person.

The sun was shining down on her face through her window, her lips slightly parted as tiny breaths escaped, her chest rising and falling slowly, it made you want to do nothing but crawl into bed with her and hold her, apologize for all the wasted time you had with her, and everything you wished you would have done right when you had the chance.

You moved to sit on the edge of her bed, your eyes already welling up with tears as you took her hand in yours. Your fingers traced over her tattoo gently, and for a split second, you felt her hand twitch, slightly holding yours back.

"Im so sorry, El..." you whispered out softly, tears blurring your vision, and falling down against the white bed sheets of the hospital bed.

"You didn't....you didn't deserve any of this....had I just...been there for you...and...and..." you hiccuped, your shoulders shaking as you cried to the unconscious girl, bringing her hand to your lips and pressing the softest kiss to it.

You looked up at her, watching as she slept so peacefully, unaware of the complete break down you were having a few inches away from her.

"You're gonna find someone who loves you so much...you deserve it more than anything..." You quietly promised her, pressing another soft kiss to her hand before you gently set it back onto her bed.

As you got up to leave, you looked down at your dress, a gentle scoff leaving your lips. You looked so fucking ridiculous, crying over your best friend who you would probably never see again, as a runaway fucking bride.

You felt pathetic.

You were a few feet away from the door, and you heard Ellie grumble softly in her sleep, the sound making your heart beat a bit faster, the sound of her voice making your insides flutter, just like she was always able to do.

"Maybe in another lifetime, it'll be our turn.." You whispered softly, giving a sad smile as tears continued streaming down your face.

You put your hand on the doorknob of her room, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you left her room, trying to control the violent, burning tears that wanted so badly to escape, to come out in screams and wails from your mouth.

If only you had known, that Ellie was mumbling your name in her sleep.

An entire year.

You don’t see Ellie…for an entire year.

After you left the hospital on the day you were supposed to get married, Joel called you. He told you everything you knew was true, but didn’t want to hear. He told you that your fiance was good for you, that you shouldn’t hold the guilt of what happened to Ellie because you didn’t know…

He also told you that it was best if you stayed away from Ellie.

The doctors advised it, something about her road to recovery. In that, meant that you had to stay away completely to ensure that the surgery had worked.

And god, was it the hardest thing you’d ever fucking done…

It’s ironic, but it only took you a day to realize just how in love you were with Ellie.

You went home and immediately packed your things, and in that, you found so many of Ellie’s things.

Flashes of memories between the two of you scattered before you, bringing it all back like a movie in your mind….

You found the bracelet she gave to you in high school, you don’t remember when you stopped wearing it. You found her hoodie that you wore so often, so she ended up just giving it to you, it was hard to remember when it went from being your favorite article of clothing to being stuffed at the bottom of your dresser. You found countless photos of the two of you, one of Ellie sitting between your legs on the floor as you tugged her hair back into a ponytail, laughing at something someone else was saying, another of you two at the beach, Ellie chasing you with a dead jellyfish she found washed up on the shore, a look of pure panic on your face, hers bright with laughter, and then there was your favorite…

A photo of you and Ellie on her couch, your face barely visible as you slept against her chest, her arm draped protectively around you as you both slept.

You cried until you couldn’t breathe that night.

It was hard, looking back at all of the memories you’d made with Ellie, hating yourself for never realizing just how big the Ellie shaped space in your heart was. It was like you were so busy chasing a fantasy, worried that you wouldn’t get the fairy tale ending that you’d dreamt about since you were a child…

You couldn’t see that the person for you was right by your side the entire time.

So? You left.

You went against every urge in your body that yearned for Ellie, yearned to be by her side in all of this, even if she didn’t see you the same way she used to, you cared about her, and you wanted nothing more than to be with her.

But you left, because you knew you’d caused enough pain to enough people.

Leaving was hard, but it was something you knew you had to do, for yourself, and for Ellie. You had packed up your things from your ex fiancés apartment after having a heart to heart with her. You didn’t deserve it at all, but she was understanding, far too understanding for someone who you’d left at the fucking alter.

You traveled, and took time to heal your soul, heal the person who had trouble seeing how much she was worth, and how much she deserved the love that someone was once willing to give.

And wishing on every single star, that someday, someone else might love you the way Ellie loved you.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t let go of her, you couldn’t leave all of these loose ends untied.

Being in love was so fucking hard.

It’s exactly a year later, and you’re stood outside of the comic book store that Ellie works at.

Or, at least you hoped she still worked there, a lot could change in a year, you could only bank on the idea that she was still working at the dorky job a year later.

The thought makes you smile softly to yourself, thinking back to all the times you teased the girl for her love of comic books, watching as that manifested in her job years later when you two were adults.

You gripped the strap of your cross body bag, inhaling deeply as you stared up at the store as you stood on the city side walk, a gentle huff leaving your lips before you walked in.

The bell at the top of the door dings softly, and your eyes scan the store, barely giving the man behind the counter a nod as he welcomes you in.

It’s empty, music playing in the background, the smell of books and ink filling your nose as you looked around the colorful shop. It had been so long since you’d been there, often times showing up at Ellie’s job to harass her when you were close by, eager to bring her home with you the second she was off the clock.

“Um…can I help you?” The man asks softly, watching as your eyes scanned the room slowly, clearly looking for someone.

Your head turns in his direction, and you clear your throat as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, nodding as you walked over to him. You looked behind the counter as you spoke, barely interested in the man with the thick glasses.

“Yeah…uh…does Ellie still work here? Ellie Williams?” You ask gently, your eyes finally settling on the man.

He hums softly, rolling his eyes gently as he nods. “Should’ve guessed it, all the hot girls come in looking for her” he scoffed, jealously dripping from his tongue as he nodded his head towards one of the aisles of books more towards the back, his eyes drifting back down to the comic book he was reading.

“She’s already pretty occupied…gonna have to get in line” he mumbled softly.

And your heart almost fucking stops when you see her.

She’s leaned up against the aisle, you can only see her back, but you know it’s her. Her hair is shorter, and she seems to have put on a bit more muscle since you last saw her, she’s got more tattoos now too.

And there’s probably the prettiest fucking girl standing in front of her, twirling her hair between her fingers as she giggles at something Ellie’s saying.

You want to just fucking die right then and there.

Because all of this is a mistake, how could you ever think this would work? That Ellie wouldn’t be fine? Moved on and completely past what happened between you and her, she had surgery to get rid of her fucking feelings for you for gods sake.

You want to disappear, and pretend like none of this never happened and you didn’t even come out all this way in the first place.

“Fuck…I…um…thanks..” you mumble quickly, giving the man a gentle nod before you turn on your heels to leave.

You faintly hear someone emerge from the back, a loud, annoyed groan rumbling from their chest. “Williams! Quit flirting and get back to work” the mystery woman calls out, which earns an annoyed, ur exaggerated groan from Ellie.

“I am working! She was asking for-“ Ellie’s words are cut short when she catches your behind making it for the door.

Because no matter what, Ellie recognizes you.

You cringe when you hear her call out your name, your hand on the door handle. For a moment, you almost want to play it off, pretend like you didn’t hear her, or you aren’t the person she’s thinking of in the first place.

But the sound of your name falling from her lips is one you’ve wanted to hear for so fucking long.

Turning around and locking eyes with her nearly knocks the air right out of your chest, forcing you to take a deep inhale to hide the way your breath hitches. Her eyes are so fucking pretty, she’s so fucking pretty..

God, she always had been.

You give her a half smile, your fingers tugging at the strap of your bag as you give her a small wave.

“Hey, Ellie…” you breath out, watching as she walks towards you, nodding at your words.

“Been a long time…where you been?” She questions.

Her tone is too casual, and she’s looking right fucking through you. You’ve seen Ellie treat people like this before, that awful, polite demeanor she’d put on for strangers, or new people that you’d introduce her too. She doesn’t give you that shy smile that you love so much, the one you see right before her strong arms wrap around your body and pull you in close, her nose pressing against your neck and inhaling deeply.

You blink a few times, seemingly breaking yourself out of your trance as you stare up at her, clearing your throat as you nod.

“Yeah…works been pretty hectic” you mutter out sheepishly, to which she gives a nod, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Right…you’re um…a writer, right?” She squinted as she spoke, as if searching for a sliver of a memory that she had of you.

It makes you feel fucking sick, because there was once a time where Ellie knew everything about you.

You bit your bottom lip softly before you gave her a nod. “Yup…I am” you breathed out softly, hating the slow, awkward build up that came with talking to her now.

You simply stared up at her for a moment before you cleared your throat, flipping your bag open and shoving your hand, rummaging around in it before you finally got hold of the small envelope that you’d been hanging onto for far too long.

You stared down at the letter for a moment, inhaling deeply before you handed it to her.

“I just came to give this to you…” you explained, watching as the girl looked down at the paper with a confused expression before she took it from your hand.

When she took it, her fingers brushed against yours. You flinched when this happened, because you felt a jolt of electricity shoot through your finger tips, Ellie must’ve felt it too, because she groaned softly before she brought her fingers to her lips, her tongue running over where it must’ve hurt.

You muttered a quick apology, yet she still stared down at the letter before she looked back at you.

“You came here to deliver…a letter? From who?” She questioned you.

You inhaled deeply before you nodded. “Just…read it whenever…okay?” You asked gently, eyeing the girl, needing to hear that she’d read it.

“Um…yeah…okay” she nodded slowly as she watched the letter closely before she pushed it into her back pocket, one of her hands coming up to scratch the back of her neck awkwardly.

“Was good seein’ you I guess…” she mumbled out.

Her awkward tone made you want to cringe, because you knew she got like this when she didn’t know what to say, or wanted the conversation to just end to she could get back to something she enjoyed more…

Probably that girl she was talking to.

You inhaled deeply before giving her a quick nod. “Right!…I’ll um…see you around” you smiled softly before giving her a small wave.

When you turned around to leave, you let out an exhale that felt as thought you had been holding it in from the moment you found out about Ellie’s condition, holding the weight on your shoulders with it.

You could only hope, that this final goodbye would give you both what you needed.

Contrary to what you might’ve thought, Ellie remembered most things from your friendship.

She remembers how you two met, she remembers most memories you have together, and she sure as hell remembers the way you used to make her feel…

But now she just…didn’t really feel any of it anymore.

It wasn’t like she woke up after having her surgery with zero recollection of you. She knew why she was there, and she knew what procedure she had done, but it was all just…different after she woke up. It was like the pain in her chest was gone, and the icky, hollow feeling she had when she thought about you had left completely. After Ellie got rid of the flowers in her lungs, her life was completely normal.

Almost completely normal.

Ellie had this nagging feeling, one that made her feel like she was always forgetting something, or leaving something behind. It would come and go, but when it was present, it would settle on her shoulders, and annoy her to no fucking end.

In all honesty? She chalked up that feeling to be the lingering memories she had of you that were slowly drifting away.

Every day, she forgot more things about you. They’d fall through the cracks so easily, like the memories that she used to hold so dearly to her heart were now so insignificant that there was no use in forgetting them.

Her doctor told her just to ignore them, for her own sake.

So? She carried on. Ellie was happy, there were barely any lingering thoughts of you, no pain in her heart or in her lungs. She could rest easy, and she felt she was forever indebted to her doctors for helping her through one of the toughest points in her entire life.

She was drawn to girls like you, though. She didn’t realize it at first, but they’d always have at least one thing that reminded her of you. One girl had your smile, another had your eyes, one even had a laugh that was nearly identical to yours, all of them making her heart jolt only for a second, her frown coming soon after she realized just why those girls evoked such strong emotions from her.

Seeing you at the comic book store was fucking weird, though.

It was like seeing an old friend from high school. You know? The ones you’re so close with, the ones you lay in bed with and plan futures together, your adolescent minds sure that nothing and no one could ever come between you two or the life you have planned together. And then you graduate, and as much as you try to keep in touch and make those dreams happen, the inevitable happens, and the person you once saw as your soulmate, turns into a stranger.

That’s what seeing you for the first time after her surgery is like.

And you looked so…different. She had almost forgotten your face completely, bur she knew for a fact you’d changed. Your hair was a bit longer, and you still had the same old red bag you loved so much, the one with a star on the front and rips on the side. You were still you..

But you weren’t at the same time.

There was something missing from your eyes, a certain glare, or shine…

A twinkle, that wasn’t there anymore.

It makes Ellie frown to herself when you turn around and leave. She couldn’t help herself from being awkward around you, because what are you even supposed to say to the person that forced you into having one of the worst conditions she’d ever had in her entire life? Hi? How are you?

She’d almost completely forgotten about the letter you gave her until she got home.

Ellie let out a gentle sigh, tugging off her headphones from her head, and tossing her denim jacket to the side. She was so fucking tired, and all she wanted to do was seep for the rest of the weekend.

She was in her bedroom, tugging off her loose jeans and tossing them into her laundry hamper. When she did that, she caught a sliver of the white paper peeking out from her back pocket, making her remember the interaction she had with you earlier that day.

Her hands outstretched to grab it from the hamper, a gentle hum leaving her lips as she moved to sit down on her bed, her eyes scanning over the paper carefully, a gentle confused frown on her lips.

When she opens it, she sees that there are a few things inside. She decides to focus on the letter that’s neatly folded up first.

Hey El

It’s been a year since I’ve seen you, and a year since a couple of other things…but I wanted to give this to you just for the sake of it. I’m not even sure if you remember me, or our friendship, I’m not sure how far the surgery goes, so there’s a few things in here that’ll help you remember if you’d like to, it’s up to you.

How are you? I hope you’re doing well, eating well, taking care of yourself and all that. I’ve talked to Joel a few times and he says you’re doing good, which is always great to hear.

Writing this, all I can think about is when we first met, I’d go as far as to say you had my heart from that point but I won’t, seems pretty pointless to say that now. It was almost like the world brought us together to fight the forces of evil or something, at least that’s how I looked at it when I was a kid.

I love you so much, Ellie. Even after all this time, my love never faded, not once, and it kills me to think you had to endure this for so long and I simply sat back and let it happen, let you suffer. I hope that if you haven’t found her yet, you’ll find a girl that can see what I couldn’t.

Maybe this letter is more for me than it is for you, and maybe I’m stupid for even doing this, but I feel it’s fitting as a final goodbye. It’s time I let you go, but I couldn’t do that without letting you know just how much you’ve impacted my life, and how you’ll do so for as long as I live.

If you read this, thanks. If you didn’t, I don’t blame you. Just wanted to let you know that I love you, El…always and forever

Ellie didn’t even realize her vision was becoming blurry as she read your letter, your handwriting so neat, so pretty, scribbling out such sad words. She could practically feel your sorrow seeping from the paper and into her heart.

Her throat burned, and if it wasn’t for her own tears sliding down her cheeks and falling onto the paper, she wouldn’t even have realized just how much reading it was affecting her.

She sniffled, eyes scanning over the paper once more before she gently set it to the side. She grabbed the envelope and looked inside.

Tucked inside of it, were a few photos. It was the ones you had found when you were packing up your apartment, the one of you and her at the beach, the one of you playing with her hair, and the one of you and her sleeping on the couch.

There’s one thing left in the envelope, and if all of the other things you put in wasn’t enough to make her cry, then this was…

It was the bracelet that Ellie had made you when you were kids.

Ellie could never forget about you, she could never forget about what you both went through and what you made her feel, but god was she close. She was so close to overcoming it all, and getting passed the phase where she still had any memories and feelings of you still at the forefront of her brain.

But the thought of it all just disappearing with you made an area of her heart deep so hard, it almost hurt.

It was an area that had laid dormant for so long, an area that had once been reserved for you. It was slowly becoming a gray space in her soul, something that no longer belonged to anyone.

Deep down she always knew it would always be reserved for you.

It’s like everything comes flooding back in, reminding her of just how much she felt for you, how strong her feelings were for you. It’s like she never even had the surgery, because she can suddenly feel everything return just as strong as before, if not stronger.

It’s all back, a swarm of feelings returning and settling right where they used to be, putting her right back in the position that she was in a year ago…

Only this time, there’s no pain.

The love has returned, but the nagging pain in her chest hasn’t. It feels pure, and the ugly feeling that she used to hold in her heart seems to have disappeared completely.

Because finally, Ellie’s love was reciprocated.

She can’t even think anything through, because suddenly she’s getting up off her bed. There aren’t many thoughts in her head, her own feet moving beneath her before she can form a coherent plan of what her next move is, what she wants to do with the feelings blooming in her heart, the ones that once laid dormant.

All Ellie knows, is that she needs to find you, and she needs to find you now.

When you were 19 years old, you told Ellie Williams you’d marry her one day.

The promise fell from your lips with a drunk giggle, barely aware of what it was that you were saying, barely aware of the fact that you were revealing one of your biggest secrets, pulling the curtains away and giving yourself bare to Ellie.

Although you didn’t remember telling her, marrying her was still a dream of yours.

And maybe you never said anything sober because you felt it was too out of reach. Maybe you kept it to yourself as a form of self sabotage, keeping your friendship with Ellie as safe as possible, because you treasured it, and her, and you didn’t want to ever lose her.

When you’re 22, when you ran away from your first wedding, white dress in hand, tears ruining your makeup, wanting nothing more than to be with your best friend, the girl who had your heart all this time, but you were use too stubborn to realize it.

It was one of the lowest moments for you, a time where you had to look back at all of your decisions, everything that had lead you to that point, wondering where you went wrong, why the hell you didn’t pay enough attention to your best friend to notice that she was suffering.

All because of you.

You felt like you didn’t deserve any second chances, and a year later, when you delivered the letter to her, you were ready to let it go, to let any and all dreams of being with Ellie disappear with you in the wind.

But now, you’re 25, and you’re getting ready to walk down the aisle to her.

Because the night that Ellie read your letter, she ran to you. She ran out of her apartment, to her car, and drove straight to where she hoped you were still living, all so that she could tell you to not leave, to tell you that you brought it back, all of her feelings resurfacing, bubbling to the top as if they’d been waiting to do so that entire time.

Doctors said it was a miracle, having never seen someone’s feeling so strong that they withstood the surgery, fighting against it all and coming back as if they’d never left.

Looking at yourself in the mirror for the second time, in a different dress, a different dressing room, a different engagement ring on your finger, almost felt surreal. You felt like you didn’t deserve it, like you didn’t deserve Ellie and the second chance that she had given you.

But there was no way in hell you’d run away, not again.

Not with Ellie.

And it’s just like the movies. Because as you’re walking down the aisle to her, it’s like no one is there, there’s no one in the room but you and her, and you can’t bring yourself to care about deserving it, or her, or a second chance.

Because you deserve love, both of you do.

You found it in each other.

And all of a sudden, you’re on your honeymoon with her. It’s a beautiful secluded island, the moon shining down on the calm beach, it looks almost identical to the night that you told Ellie you’d marry her.

You’re on top of her, your pussy slotted down onto hers as you make love to her on the beach.

Ellie’s eyes never leave yours, the moon shining down brightly into them, tattooed hands gripping your hips and ass tightly as she helped you grind down onto her sopping wet core, watching in awe as your tits bounced above her.

Your back arched as you threw your head back, a loud moan leaving your lips before you looked back down at your wife.

“L-love you so much, El….im…fuck…my pretty girl” you whined out, eyes never leaving hers.

She smirked softly as she watched you before a soft moan left her lips, giving you an encouraging nod. “Your girl…all yours…fuck…keep going baby, doing so good for me” she groaned out, her bottom lip tugging beneath her teeth as she bit down on the soft skin.

“All mine..” you whimpered out softly before you bent down, your chest pressing against hers as you captured her lips in a feverish kiss, filled with love and passion, enough so that it’s nearly enough to make you cry.

Ellie moans into your mouth, her tongue pushing in and rubbing against yours, her hips desperately jerking up to meet your movements, matching the way you rolled your hips against her.

When you break the kiss, you rest your forehead against hers, one of your hands reaching down and pulling hers from your hip, pressing it against the blanket that was laid out on the sand and interlocking it with yours.

“Wanna…wanna feel you cum with me…fuck…please” you practically begged, making Ellie nod quickly as she stared into your eyes.

“I’m close…fuck…I’m….i love you so fucking much…fuck” she gritted out, followed by a needy moan as she squeezed your hand.

The sound of your orgasms mixes in with the gentle waves of the ocean, like a harmony that’s purely made up of you, Ellie, and the earth. It’s beautiful, and you wish you had it on tape or something because it’s such beautiful sound of love that’s made from you and her.

When you both calm down, a blanket is tugged over your naked bodies as you both lay there on the beach, staring up at the sky. Ellie’s arms are wrapped around you, your head resting on her shoulder, legs tangled up in one another as you simply stare up at the stars, enjoying each others presence.

“You think anyone’s out there doing this same thing right now?” You asked softly, a gentle smile on your lips as you repeat the words that you’d said years ago, in the same situation that you were in now.

Ellie chuckles softly, a deep breath falling from her lips followed by a gentle hum.

“None like us baby….” She said, her words muffled as she pressed a kiss to your temple.

And she’s right, because none will ever love like you love each other.

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